#i think that all three of these WILDLY differ in their mood and tone but oh well *shrugs*

[anotherobeymeblog]

Which of the characters are the loudest in bed? 👀

I had to rewrite some of these parts three times because tumblr kept not saving the draft when I clicked "save draft" so forgive me if some of them sound a little clipped, I'm pretty annoyed about it lol

Loud

Mammon: Yeah, Mammon has absolutely no concept of volume control. Naturally, he's wildly embarrassed by this and will try to deny how loud he is even in between moans. It's pretty fun to tease him about this. It almost makes it worth all the times someone will bang on the door demanding you keep it down. Almost.

Diavolo: Idk what you expected. He sees no reason to try to hide what you're doing, so he doesn't bother keeping his voice down. And, tbh, I'm not convinced he could be quiet if he tried. This man has a big, booming voice and even his dirty talk sounds more like shouting. Barbatos isn't paid enough for this shit.

Solomon: Whore 💖 He's absolutely shameless, so you better hope no one else is in the same building as you when you fuck. Of course, if you ask him to try to be quiet, he'll happily make even more obnoxiously obscene noises just to annoy you.

Moderate

Leviathan: Levi will bite his lip raw to try to stifle his noises if you don't stop him. He's actually pretty quiet as far as like... decibels go, but his tone is so shrill, his voice carries much farther than it would otherwise. He sounds absolutely pathetic, and if you call him out for this, he will cry, but he will also cum on the spot.

Asmodeus: Okay, I know this is a hot take, but considering his vast uh. Experience, there's no way Asmo doesn't know how to adjust his volume for the situation. Much like everything else related to sex with Asmo, YMMV because he will try to shape himself into your ideal partner. However, if you do manage to get him to loosen up and stop trying to impress you, he naturally makes these clipped, high-pitched whines that are super cute, but not that loud.

Belphegor: So sex with Belphie can really be divided into two categories. Sometimes, it's slow, lazy sex where he's still half asleep and adorably clingy. In these cases, he's almost silent, with the only noises he's making being little sighs and incoherent mumbling that you think might be your name. But on the other hand, when he's in a particularly bratty mood and wants you to wreck his shit, it's a totally different story, and he will be spitting taunts at you even as the words keep getting cut off by choked moans.

Simeon: Simeon is prone to crying during sex and everyone else can fight me. He tries to maintain some semblance of dignity at first, but it never takes long before he falls apart and starts crying out freely.

Quiet

Lucifer: Yeah, the most you're getting from him is the occasional tremor in his voice. He's bad at showing vulnerability at the best of times, so you just have to get used to picking up on the way his mouth twists or his brow furrows, because you won't be getting any more obvious reactions than that. (Unless he's drunk, but that's another story altogether.)

Satan: Depending on his mood, the sounds he makes range from low growls to soft, breathy moans. Either way, it's gonna be pretty quiet, and you'd need to be within a couple feet of him to be able to hear them at all.

Beelzebub: If you're doing something particularly intense, you may be treated to some choked grunts, but otherwise, the only noises he really makes are his breath getting heavier and whispered praises that grow increasingly incoherent as he approaches his orgasm, at which point he seems to stop breathing altogether.

Barbatos: Barbatos makes these drawn-out, airy noises that are very cute, but almost inaudible if your faces aren't right up against each other. If you make it known that you want to hear him better, he won't get any louder, but instead will lean towards you to moan right in your ear.

[dreaming-marchling]

With all the POVs in all the fandoms you’ve done including the latest in marked in faith which character has been the hardest to write for or get in their mind? Conversely what character has been the easiest to slide into.

Also, how do you maintain those character separations and characterization so well in the stories especially when there’s a large cast like sometimes in the market in trust series?

When I DM in DnD I have a very hard time keeping NPCs apart before they blend in as a mesh of one character archetype.

This is such a fun question! I live for nitty-gritty writing stuff like this :)

I suppose the characters who are hardest are the ones I've avoided , for instance I'm writing a Malec story where Izzy gets her (I believe) first POV from me and I'm having a hard time finding her voice. The plot means she’s in a tense leadership position so the seriousness is I think conflicting with how I might normally have written her and striking that kind of tone with a character I don't write as much is a challenge. I don't think it would bother me as much if I was more used to her. Jesse in MiT is now the last of the team who doesn't have his own MiF story and though I would love to write for him and do intend to he's got a brain that works very quickly and randomly and I want to do it justice. In terms of who I find hard from characters I have actually posted, I have to be in the right mood for Letty. We're very different, lol. Easiest are Brian and Magnus for sure. They're closest to my own voice and I've written a lot for them so I'm used to them.

On the rest, I'll put under a cut so no one hates me

Re: How I differentiate characters - Firstly, thank you for saying that I differentiate characters well, that's a huge concern of mine so I'm really thrilled you feel that way!

Here are some key ways I like to make their voices distinct (according to how I view the characters, of course, opinions on the below can certainly vary):

Word Choice - It's a very quick way to differentiate characters even in a scene where they're all united and sharing the same sentiment

For instance, Magnus uses often more ornate words than Alec does. Or Letty swears when Mia rarely does. Would the character say that someone was heartbroken or upset or pissed? Letty might say upset or pissed but for me, she’s less likely to use heartbroken. Mia would be much more likely to use heartbroken or upset and sometimes she would used pissed but it wouldn’t be the first word she would reach for unless she was very upset herself. Magnus would use all three but he would absolutely use heartbroken very freely and I would often pair it with a word that would sound ridiculous if Jace said it like “terribly heartbroken” or something. Is Jace saying someone is terribly heartbroken? Probably not, lol, in my opinion. But Magnus totally would.

Sentence Phrasing

For MiT it can often be a little more challenging because they're all roughly the same age. Word choice is still important but I think phrasing is ultimately more key when you don’t have characters who are wildly different like Alec and Magnus. Dom, for instance, doesn't *like* talking so much but he does it for Brian. I often have him drop filler words to kind of give that impression so the way he makes a sentence is more bare bones than the other characters. Vince and Letty speak more similarly but Vince is less casually explosive than Letty so he's not exclaiming things as much. Mia and Leon are similar because they're both much more calm people who speak both gently but also pretty matter of fact to Brian but Mia has a more optimistic tone whereas Leon's is more neutral. Mia often has an undercurrent of concern but Leon tends to be more chill. Is the character supposed to be laugh out loud funny? I put way more effort into giving Brian his weird little one-liners but I don't do much of that for Mia or Alec.

I think re: your character archetype challenge, maybe adding in another qualifier or two could help differentiate tones? I think you could probably cite Foggy, Letty and Brian as sarcastic characters but Foggy is a sarcastic worrier with mothering tendencies, Letty is a sarcastic badass who doesn’t like to be soft, Brian is a sarcastic brat who has a hard time interacting with people. You can further break them down as well with Foggy’s very smooth and intelligent sarcasm that maybe tends more towards wit, Letty’s very blunt sarcasm and Brian’s very defensive sarcasm. Foggy is often wanting to be funny, Letty is aiming not for funny but for cool and Brian is often unaware. What is the character’s background? Do they lend towards highbrow humor or lowbrow humor? Is the sarcasm meant to attack or make them seem lovable?

I hope any of that helps! I feel compelled to apologize for making you read so much, lol, I just love shit like this. Thank you for asking!

[ddejavvu]

Spring Fling - Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader (Part Two) (18+) / Part One | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five

Summary: You should have known the ‘no refunds’ detail on the website for Spring Fling was a red flag. But you paid no mind to it, eager to be assigned a quick fuck for spring break. When the man that walks through your cabin door is none other than Jake 'Hangman' Seresin, your wildly infuriating fellow pilot, you have two choices: bicker the entire time and have a miserable spring break, or fuck.

Contents/Warnings: smut, minors dni. fem!reader, pilot!reader, enemies/rivals to lovers, lots and lots of arguing, could these two people be any less cooperative, sex seven ways to sunday and then some, seriously like so much smut it'll make your eyes bleed, makeouts, rough sex, oral (m+f receiving), penetrative sex, will add as i post

WC: 5.3K / navigation / inbox

A/N: if you've been on my blog anytime since last year and you've heard me mention 'my big hangman fic', this is it! I've been working on Spring Fling for almost a year now, and I'm so excited to share it with you. I hope you enjoy this, and I'm glad so many new people are making their way into our top gun fandom because of twisters and Glen's role in it. Welcome, and enjoy!

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

An uncomfortable nap taken out of sheer spite does nothing to improve your mood. Your neck is stiff now, as is your spine, and it pops when you stretch from your place on the tiny loveseat.

“Well, Sleeping Beauty has risen,” Jake grins, the cocky expression boiling your blood, “Ready for dinner, sunshine?”

“I’m going to push you off of this boat.” You grumble, and Jake blinks, toning his smile down into a grimace.

“Well, maybe some food’ll improve your mood.” Jake rises from where he’d been presumably sleeping as well, though you’re surprised he fell asleep after you and woke up before you. His bedhead gives him away, and he runs his fingers through it, “We’ve got a table reserved in the restaurant for 6, darlin’. We should get there a little early, though, wanna head out now?”

Your nose wrinkles involuntarily, though you wouldn’t have stopped it, “You reserved us a table? I’m not eating with you.”

“We eat together all the time,” He scoffs, “Come on, Y/L/N, this is no different from eating in the mess hall.”

“It’s different because everyone who sees us is either going to think we just had sex, or that we’re about to,” You protest, but he’s out of sympathy to feign.

“Or both,” He grins, running a hand once more through his slightly less messy hair. He’s still barely dressed, and it takes effort for your eyes not to naturally drift away from his face. 

“You’re usually wearing a uniform when we eat in the mess hall, Hangman,” You narrow your eyes at him, glancing pointedly below his neck to his bare chest, but straying no further, “Unless they’ve hired you to be a stripper on board, and I’m just now finding out?”

“Nah, I auditioned but they said I was too good,” He crosses his bulging biceps over his chest, a haughty smirk on his face, “I didn’t wanna steal any tips from the ladies.”

“Right,” You drawl, aiming to move past him to reach your suitcase that’s been mysteriously moved from beside your head to the side of the bed opposite from where Jake had been sleeping. Except, the man blocking your path doesn’t move, and you’re stuck in the small hallway-like space that the loveseat is squished into.

“Hangman,” Your teeth are gritted, and they warp your words slightly, “Move. I need my suitcase, I’m going to change for dinner.”

“I don’t see anything wrong with your dress,” He eyes the fabric with feigned consideration, “Except of course that it’s a little long. It only needs to go up to about here,” He snakes a hand towards your waist, laying two hefty smacks against the skin on your hip that lines up just beneath the curve of your ass. He moves faster than you can back away, but you land a valiant smack against his hand when he withdraws it, “Then you could join my stripping act.”

“Hangman, if you touch me again, I’ll rip off your balls,” You swear, but there’s still a glint of mischief far too bright in his eyes for your liking, so you shove past him, making sure to tap your knuckles gently between his legs for good measure.

He groans, hunching over and breathing heavily, “Shit, Y/L/N, you trying to take out the Seresin line?”

“It’s not that bad,” You drawl, setting your suitcase on the bed and delving into its contents, “But a world where you can’t reproduce sounds like one I want to live in.”

You’re already halfway to the bathroom, your evening dress in hand when he calls back, “You act all high and mighty now,” You can hear the grin that Jake’s voice indicates, even if he’s rummaging through his own suitcase for something to wear, “But later tonight I’m gonna have you beggin’ for me to knock you up, darlin’.”

Jake’s efforts to break into the bathroom you’re changing in are certainly impressive, if nothing else. He tries the knob at first, like you’d have forgotten to turn the lock before stripping naked. When you demand a reason he claims he’d forgotten his deodorant, which is a perfect excuse seeing as you miss no chances to point out his sweat-stench after training.

You spot the stick on the counter and give yourself the satisfaction of rolling your eyes, even if he’s not present to see it.

The second time he knocks, having learned his lesson, “Y/N, I need to pee.”

“I’m changing!” You cry, the straps on your dress proving impossible to untangle. Apparently being jostled in a suitcase wasn’t ideal for the dress’s shape.

“Changing what, seasons? By the time you get dressed our leave will be over, and you’re gonna have to get back into uniform.”

“If you’re so anxious to get to dinner, go by yourself!” You insist, frustration laced tight to your tone, “I’ll figure this fucking dress out, enjoy a leisurely meal, and then I’ll meet up with Daniel afterwards!”

You’re so used to Jake’s rapidfire quips that the silence ensuing after your declaration feels awkward. But it’s a victory, one that you don’t often win against the man outside the bathroom door, and you let it ease the sharp sting of annoyance that your dress is needling into you.

A fist lands heavy against the door, and Jake’s voice is unusually devoid of mirth, “Open up.”

“Jake, no!” You spit out his first name like a hex, “I fucking told you-”

“I’m going to help you,” He calls through the door, knocking incessantly, “Come on, you said you can’t figure out your dress, I’ll help you.”

“Nice try!” You scoff, finally pulling at the correct string and watching as the others fall into precarious place around them. You jab your arm into the hole it’s created and slip the rest of them into formation, standing triumphant in front of the mirror and realizing you look quite like you’ve had sex after all.

You smooth down a few flyaway hairs, grab Jake’s deodorant, and fling the door open, just as Jake flattens his hand to slam his palm into the wood, no doubt trying to make more noise than a simple knock.

You’re looking at his face, and he’s looking at yours, but both of you can feel his hand pressed firmly into your tit. You don’t doubt that he’d intended to hit the door instead of you, but he’s not moving away, either. You both stand paralyzed until his brain catches up with his body and he jerks his hand away, lashes fluttering as he blinks bewilderedly despite the wry grin purposefully etched into his features in an attempt to remain nonchalant.

“Didn’t mean to do that,” He simpers, and you’re certain that’s the closest to ‘I’m sorry’ he’s ever given you. You know him well enough to know he’s adequately flustered, but outsiders might not catch the barely-there pink tinge to his tan cheeks, too distracted by his charming smile.

You overlook the accident if only to save yourself the awkward confrontation, ducking your head and shoving the deodorant stick against his chest. His hands come up to catch it and you make a break for the heels you’d set out by the closet, intent on strapping them on instead of talking to him.

He mumbles a distracted, ‘Thanks,’ when you hand him his deodorant, but the stick remains firmly capped in his hands as his gaze trails after you.

“Your dress looks nice.” He concludes, voice a tone softer than it normally is. It’s- nice. You’re too used to the bite of his southern drawl, the way he pairs a cocky quip with an eye-roll more vicious than even the most belligerent teenager. Now they’re soft and gooey-brown as he stares at the straps on your shoulders. This isn’t the first kind thing he’s ever said to you, but it’s certainly the first in a long time, and you swallow the urge to use it against him.

“Thank you.” You grumble, then, to steer away from the thick silence you’ve been enveloped in, “Not sure it’s worth it, though, those straps were fucking confusing.”

You swear you hear a mumbled, ‘It was,’, but Jake’s back is turned to you as he sets his still-capped deodorant on the bathroom counter, so you can’t be sure.

You’re surprised to find that the elevator is just as empty as you’d left it when you and Jake board to head to the 9th floor. The restaurant Jake had reserved your table at is upscale, and you presume everyone else is too busy boning to manage a sit-down meal. You settle against the back wall of the elevator in silence, looking but not watching as Jake presses the 9 button with a thick finger.

The last time you were in this elevator, Daniel was backing you up against the railing and kissing you.

Just the thought brings heat to your cheeks, and you’re thankful for the support that the wall behind you offers. If it wasn’t there, you’re not sure your weak knees would withstand the crushing weight of your weighty crush.

“Was that where he sucked your face?” Jake’s voice shatters your reverie into a million tiny, unsalvageable pieces, and you forget any momentary truce that you might have had with him only moments ago.

“Excuse me?” You level a glare at the man across from you, unimpressed with his accusation even though it was accurate, “He did not suck my face. He kissed me like a gentleman.”

Jake lets out a bark of laughter, “Right. Because gentlemen smear a woman’s lipstick halfway over her chin.”

Despite knowing you’d have seen any makeup smudges when you’d been in the bathroom earlier, your hand darts to your chin.

Jake takes it as an admission of guilt, and his sharp grin only grows, “Exactly. I’ve sucked faces before, I know what the result is.”

A rather unsavory memory assaults you of Jake crowding a vacationing New Yorker up against a wall of the Hard Deck. You push away the nauseating burning in your chest at the image, intent on never seeing Jake Seresin’s tongue inside of anyone’s mouth but his own again.

“You suck faces,” You conclude, still slightly bothered by what you’d recalled, “Daniel kisses.”

“Daniel,” Jake snorts, grasping for something to tease, “That’s not a very moan-able name, is it?”

“Neither is Jake,” You retort, “Jake sounds like a toddler running loose at the mall.”

“That’s why the ladies call me Hangman,” Jake grins, his eyes narrowed in an attempt at a smirk, “Well, some of ‘em call me Hungman by the end of the night.”

“Oh,” Your face twists into a grimace, and you’re thankful for the dinging of the elevator, “You’re not allowed to talk at dinner.”

“Only way you’ll get me to shut up is if you gag me, darlin’.” Jake laughs, stepping out of the elevator and following behind you even as you storm ahead towards the entrance to the dining room.

It’s an opulent room, chandeliers and crystal adorning every surface. You slow your pace before you reach the reception desk, so that the poor employee doesn’t think you’re going to vault over the counter and attack him, but you’re fairly certain there’s still a scowl on your face when you attempt to speak with him.

“We have a table reserved,” You inform the man, conscious of Jake’s impressive build lingering behind you, present and firm, “Room 838?”

With a quick few buttons pressed on the screen before him, the host nods, customer service smile on full force as he gestures to his left, “Of course, right this way.”

You let him lead, and you try not to get distracted by the grandiose decor. Whether it’s authentic material, or just plastic spray-painted gold, it’s beautiful, and you’re so absent-minded that you don’t acknowledge your table until you’re stopped in front of it.

“Here you are; have a lovely meal.” The man politely excuses himself, heading back to the front to greet whoever else is waiting to be checked in for their tables.

You’d been too overwhelmed by finding out that your hot sexy mystery man was actually your brutally combative fellow pilot to think about what dinner would entail beyond heated bickering. He’d drawn a comparison to the mess hall and your brain had run with it, but this is decidedly different from the drab benches you’re used to.

This is a small, delicate, round table, a white tablecloth draped elegantly overtop. It’s two candles, giving off a small aura of warm light around the dim restaurant, crystalline dishes framed with polished silverware. It’s an enclosed space, it’s knees brushing and eyes twinkling with candlelight, it’s electric shocks when skin meets skin. It’s romantic by design, and you refuse to share it with Hangman.

But you can’t refuse.

The waitstaff is limited and overworked, evidenced by the mountain of covered trays you see them rushing to different tables. It would be rude to storm out, and while you’re not worried about offending Jake, you don’t want to inconvenience the staff.

Jake sniffs out your internal conflict by only a glance at your stiff stance, a skill he’s acquired after years of working out the perfect way to get under your skin. He can read you like a book, and he knows fury and guilt are waging war in your head right now.

You’d like to think he thought fury would win, but it’s guilt in the end. You step towards your chair, reaching out with two fingers to pinch the candle on your side of the table. The flame snuffs out beneath your touch, and the mild burning sensation is worth it to hear Jake scoff.

“Nicely done, killer,” He drawls, sounding offensively unperturbed by your obvious dislike of him. To your complete and utter indignance he reaches behind your back to pull the chair out from it’s seat, offering it to you as a peace treaty.

You are not a peaceful person, not when it comes to Hangman.

You take the opposite seat, maintaining sharp eye contact with Jake as you sit down. He inhales, and you take satisfaction in the puff of his chest, a telltale sign that he’s beginning to get aggravated. He lowers himself into his own seat, but notices the way your hand darts for the one candle that’s still lit, and he snatches it out of your way before you can snuff it out. It causes the silverware on the table to rattle, and you and Jake are required to send placatingly charming smiles to the people at nearby tables who turned at the commotion.

He turns that once-dazzling grin on you like a weapon as he relights the blackened wick of the candle you’d pinched, letting it burn once more to illuminate his features.

You don’t waste a second in snuffing it out again, “The point was so that I didn’t have to see your ugly face.”

“You are the most charming dinner guest I’ve ever had the pleasure of dining with,” Jake croons, unflappable as ever, “Put your napkin on your lap, Y/N, it’ll keep your dress dry when you’re drooling over me.”

You take ash-stained fingers and leave streaky, dark prints on the white cloth napkin, draping it over your lap and folding your hands neatly over it.

“Careful, Hangman,” You warn, your voice low and your face deceptively cheery as you nod kindly at a passing waiter, “They gave me two different knives to stab you with.”

“God, why are you so pissy?” He asks, and for a moment, you don’t know the answer. It catches you off guard, and that’s never supposed to happen, not around Hangman. He speaks again before you have the chance to respond- typical.

“So, we ended up on the same sex boat. Whatever, Y/L/N, shit happens.” His jaw is tense, fraught with annoyance while his eyes blaze like the jet engines he’s so used to gunning, “I’m just teasing, y’know. You know me, I’m not a monster, I’m not going to force you to have sex with me. If you don’t want to, then we won’t, and that’s that. You don’t have to keep snapping at me, I won’t bite you.”

It’s possibly the most heartfelt, sincere thing that Hangman has ever said to you, albeit in exasperation, and you’re not sure you’re comfortable with that. Your rapport with the man has always been full of quips and jabs, nothing like what he’s just unleashed. You’d known he must have had a soft side, but you thought perhaps he’d left it back in Texas, because this is something new. You see a waiter approaching from behind Jake and smile politely at them, clueing your dinner date in to their appearance.

“Unless you want me to,” Jake adds with an insufferable wink, using the last few seconds that you’re able to speak freely to tease you. 

“Welcome,” The waiter smiles, once more with that impeccably tuned customer service politeness as he hands a wine list to Jake, “What can I get started for you this evening?”

As much as you hate to admit it, Jake’s teasing quip is familiar, a well-worn blanket you find comfort shrouding yourself in, and it breaks the awkward tension that had arisen when Hangman had spoken so sincerely towards you.

You don’t dare let a smile grace your features, but one tries; instead you settle for a kick to his shin beneath the elegant white tablecloth.

“We’ll have- mm! The- uh, the…” Jake trails off, eyes roving down the selection and realizing too late that he’s more attuned to cheap liquor in a beachside bar than he is to elegant pairings of food and wine. He recovers quickly, that special brand of Seresin charm, grinning across the table at you, “Actually, we’d like it if you surprised us. Money’s no object,” He throws in a grotesquely over-the-top wink, “Just make it special for my roommate here.”

Your teeth ache as you grind them together in a smile, and you swear you can feel your right eye begging to twitch, “How considerate of you, Jake.”

“Anything for you, dear,” He replies easily, accepting two dinner menus from the waiter and thanking him. You maintain the common courtesy of waiting until the poor man is out of earshot before tearing into Jake, and he’s lucky he’s got both of the menus still in his hands, or you’d smack him upside the head with one.

“I’m not paying out of my ass to get drunk at a candlelight dinner with you.” You hiss, courteous of the other patrons, but barely able to contain yourself.

“No, you’re not.” He agrees, blinking like he’s not sure why you’re close to shouting, “I am.”

“That’s- ooh!” You fume, eyes clamped shut and jaw so tight it hurts. You take a second to breathe, “Hangman, you know damn well I don’t like owing you money.”

You have a very strict no-loans policy, though it only applies to yourself. You have no problem spotting Natasha for a few drinks, or treating Javy to animal fries at In-N-Out, but you’d rather die than let someone use their dollar for your snack at a vending machine. Feeling like you owe something makes your skin crawl, and it’s something your friends have all had to accept. All, of course, except for Hangman, who seems to delight in making your skin crawl.

“You don’t owe me money,” He laughs, taking a sip of the glass of ice water that had been waiting at his place on the table, “And you don’t owe me anything else either, darlin’. I’m paying for the wine.”

“Then I’m not drinking it,” You decide, still caught in your blustering fury, “I’m too tired to deal with your bullshit - you can mill around the ship and beg some poor woman to drink with you, and I’ll go back to our cabin and sleep.”

You wish that the man across from you wasn’t so adept at setting your nerves on fire. You chalk it up to years and years of flying together, at each other’s throats despite being on the same team, but Jake really is able to infuriate you with something as simple as a grin. The way that hollow manipulation glazes over his eyes each time he doles out a charming smile makes your chest burn, and you wish you could get a handle on your frustration. It’s embarrassing, really, that he knows how to pick you apart and induce insanity; you wish you improved at resisting him through practice, but that’s not how it works. It only gets worse, worse and worse and worse until you’re sitting across from him at a candlelit table, yearning to whack him over the head with a black-foldered menu.

“Fine,” Jake snorts, setting the glass down in the wet indent it had made on the tablecloth before, condensation beading at its base, “You don’t have to have any. But you have to take me back to our room - if I get wine drunk, you’ll have to stop me from kissing everyone.”

The startling admission does exactly what Jake intended it to, and you’re caught off guard, the rapidly ticking bomb of frustration inside your chest temporarily disarmed. 

“You’re a drunk kisser?”

“A winedrunk kisser, yes ma’am,” Jake nods, the ammunition he supplies you with a far cry from his typically competitive nature, “First and only time I’ve ever had wine was at my sister’s wedding a few years back.” He reminisces, still holding tight to both menus as candlelight flickers on his tanned face, “She wasn’t necessarily thrilled that I started kissin’ on the groom, but I looked good in the veil when the photographer came around.”

He’s good-natured about the snort you let out in response, and finally he offers the menu to you like an olive branch, “You gonna whack me with this thing?”

“How’d you know I wanted to?” You arch an eyebrow, taking the menu from him. Prices aren’t listed - the cost of your meals was included with the boarding pass, but extras like drinks are something you’ll need to pay a tab on later. Nevertheless, the food looks to be worth your money.

“You get this look in your eye when you’re feelin’ feisty,” Jake notes, taking a look at his own menu, “Your jaw gets all tight, and I start gettin’ the urge to cover my crotch.”

Today was not the first time you’ve ever whacked him in the balls; evidently he does learn, even if he chooses not to apply that knowledge.

You neglect to respond, no longer irritated enough to tell Jake that he’s deserved every hit he’s taken from you, but never vulnerable enough to apologize. Instead you bury yourself in the menu, appreciating the array of cuisine that you’re not often treated to on a naval base. 

Jake lets you remain silent until the waiter comes back with the wine that he’d ordered, and you nod in thanks with a poorly-concealed clenched jaw to the man when he pours you a glass.

“That looks wonderful, thank you,” Jake gushes, eyes slightly narrowed as he raises his glass to his nose, inhaling the aroma wafting from the wine that he swirls gently, “Smell that, darlin’, ain’t it good?”

You reach for your portion with tense fingers that nearly shatter the stem of the glass as they wrap around it. The scent of the wine is oh-so-tempting; surely Jake’s objective for getting you to smell it was to wear you down into tasting it.

You won’t give in.

“Smells fantastic,” You concede, and if the waiter’s realized he’s in the lion’s den, pinned between two aggressors ready to rip into each other’s throats once more, he doesn’t show it. He merely bows, stepping away again and leaving the bottle on your table.

“That’s good,” Jake muses nonchalantly after a sip, glancing down at the menu in his lap as if you’ll believe he’s perusing it instead of plotting a way to make you explode at the table. 

“Well I’m glad you like it, because you’ve got a whole bottle to finish,” You snipe, “I’m not a toddler, Jake, you can’t trick me into eating my broccoli by pretending it’s the best thing you’ve ever tasted.”

“Who said anything about tricking you?” He leans back in his chair, wine set back on the table, “Y/N, I can enjoy a nice glass of wine without it being about you, thank you very much. Believe it or not, the world doesn’t revolve around you, and you’re not the only thing I think about.”

You’re more than used to Jake’s accusations of your egocentrism, not because it’s true, but because it’s what he defaults to whenever he can’t think of a response, but is too stubborn to let the issue go. They don’t worry you anymore like they used to, but they do irritate you, and you’re glad for the deep, smooth voice that calls your name from your left to distract you from Jake’s insults.

You know it before you turn; Daniel is there with his roommate. She’s gorgeous, her dark hair intricately braided and styled, a compliment to her skin that’s only a shade lighter, and you’re only slightly jealous of the way his arm is draped around her middle. You quell it by reminding yourself that you’d frenched him in an elevator only hours after meeting him, and this is a cruise meant for casual sex.

Perhaps your voice is a notch too sincere when you greet him, “Daniel.”

You miss it, your attention fixed on the couple approaching your table, but a muscle jumps in Jake’s jaw as it tightens. 

“Well, I guess you’re all some people think about,” Jake drawls, his grin now wolfish and lethal, and while your voice was slightly too kind, his voice is slightly the opposite, scathing in a way, “So you’re- uh, Elevator Boy?”

Daniel’s slight smirk is bashful where he bites the inside of his cheek and nods, “I guess that’s accurate. I- uh, I hope you don’t mind.”

“He doesn’t,” You reply before Jake can conjure up any more misplaced snark, “We’re not hooking up.”

Daniel’s brows furrow for only a split second, a confused reaction he hadn’t been able to politely mask in time. His roommate glances back at Jake, and the knit of her brow is less fleeting; clearly she’s thinking you’re out of your mind for not fucking him.

“Random roommates don’t always work out, I guess,” Daniel smooths over the awkward silence that’s befallen your table, and you want to kiss him for it. Well, you want to kiss him regardless, but now you’re positively fiending for a repeat of earlier.

“He’s my coworker,” You explain, “We really can’t.”

“Oh!” He laughs, and his roommate seems equally amused by your poor fortune, “That’s crazy, and- there’s no changing roommates, is there?”

“She’s stuck with me,” Jake continues aiming that deadly grin towards Daniel, and you’re surprised he hasn’t caught on fire yet. 

“Well, if you ever want to switch for a night,” Daniel squeezes his roommate’s side, his fingers ghosting over her exposed skin in the cutout dress she’s sporting, “I’m not an idiot; Danica’s ogling you.”

You marvel at the friendly banter they share after only a few hours of knowing each other, but Daniel seems fantastic to get along with. Danica laughs at his teasing and manages to look barely bashful when she nods at you, “I wasn’t gonna say anything when I thought you two were enjoying yourselves, but I’d be happy to step in if you wanna get lucky for a night.” 

“That sounds great,” You jump at the offer, but Jake speaks at the same time, voice a hair louder than your own.

“We’re not interested.” He dismisses Danica’s offer but he looks at Daniel to do it, something dangerous gleaming in his eyes that you’re only used to seeing on the tarmac.

A laugh escapes your throat, horridly disguised as something casual and not your breaking point, “Oh, we aren’t interested? I am.”

Jake blinks, shifting his sharp gaze towards you, “No switching rooms, Y/N.”

“That’s for official placements,” You sit up straighter in your chair, turned fully towards Jake now instead of angled towards Daniel, “But they’re not gonna come check on us at two in the morning to make sure we’re all in our bunks. We can swap for a night.”

“I don’t know why you’re fighting so hard for a night in his bed, the elevator seemed to work just fine. Maybe Danica and I can have a few drinks tonight, and you can slip off and defile floors 1-4.”

“That’s not-” You’re hot on Jake’s trail, intent on defending Daniel and pointing out the hypocrisy in Jake’s scathing statements, but a firm hand falls on your shoulder that silences you. Daniel’s grip is firm, but not painful, more grounding as his touch practically sucks the fire out of your veins and replaces it with calm.

“I think drinks after dinner are a great idea.” Daniel speaks coolly, with all the perfect composure you wish you had around Jake, instead of the barrel of gunfire perpetually smoldering inside of you.

“Me too,” You add, and one of Jake’s eyebrows ticks up.

“Really? I thought you said you were going to bed after this. Something about being too tired to deal with-”

“Your bullshit, Hangman.”

What you engage in next would preferably be described as a battle of wills, but to the outside eye, might look like a staring contest. It’s your vicious glare against Jake’s lazy grin, eyes alight with mischief as he does what he does best - piss you off.

“We’ll plan on drinks, then,” Danica breaks the ice, and you’re grateful for the tones of her sweet voice, “There’s a bar on the ninth deck, do you want to meet there?”

“That sounds great,” You hope she takes your kind smile for what it is; gratitude, “We’ll head there when we’re finished with our food.”

“Right,” Daniel nods, squeezing your shoulder and letting go, taking Danica by the waist once more to lead her to the table their water had pointed at, “See you then.”

Whatever farewell you murmur is lost in the general hubbub of the restaurant, something that you wish would happen to the grating tone of Jake’s drawl.

“So,” He muses, playing coy, but you won’t have it, “You’re not tired anymore?”

“I don’t know what’s wrong with you,” You steel yourself, inhaling and letting your chest puff with the breath, “But whatever you’re doing here; trying to ruin this for me just for shits and giggles - it’s gotta stop. I’ll leave you alone, and you can fuck as many people as you want on this ship, okay? You can have what you came here for, a week-long hookup, and all I’m asking in return is for one chance. I just want one. fucking. chance. to enjoy myself. Okay?”

His eyes cloud over throughout the duration of your speech, and it’s a look you’ve never seen on him before. It’s unsettling, like something’s dimming his spirit, though you can’t tell what. You’ve quipped back at him before, practically every time he’s ever teased you. But perhaps he’s just as unsettled with your newfound sincerity as you were with his, because his face settles into a hesitant expression. You press on.

“You told me earlier that you’re just teasing me, and that you’re not a monster. If that’s true, then leave me alone.”

He looks wounded only by a slight twitch of his eye; perhaps the prospect of being around you and not lunging teeth-bared at your throat is too much to bear. But he nods, slow and rickety like the joints in his neck protest the movement, “Fine. If that’s what you want, I’ll leave you alone.”

“Thank you.” You respond stiffly, glad for the menu in your lap as it provides an easy out for you; you’re not sure if you can stand looking him in the eyes. You’re afraid you’ll see disappointment there, perhaps real dislike, and you don’t want to find out that the only reason he speaks to you is to mess around with you. You’re content in feeling like you’re friends as well, and if he gives himself away now that you’ve asked him to ease up on the teasing, you’re not sure you’ll enjoy yourself at all on this vacation, no matter how much cheap, distracting sex you have. The truth of the matter is that you value the blossom of his friendship no matter how thorny it can be, and you’re not sure if he’s capable of playing nice without an occasional bite. 

You’re sure things will go back to normal on the weathered tarmac, but until then, bobbing along on ocean waves, you want Jake Seresin to be your friend, not your frenemy. If he’s incapable, you want no part of him.

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Everybody Talks Too Much (Cassandra Dimitrescu/Mute!Reader)

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T for language, brief violence Summary: Whenever Cassandra gets angry, no one wants to deal with her. Well, no one but you, that is. Thankfully, the middle child appreciates your company... not that she'd ever admit it. Notes: Another self-indulgent fic with a selectively mute reader. This one's a lil different. Sections in italic are mostly indications that the reader is miming actions in order to communicate, though there are a few internal thoughts that are marked as such. Unlike the past two I've done, this takes place pre-relationship, so there's some mutual pining of sorts. I think that's the word.

--------------------------

Among the many servants of Castle Dimitrescu, there were a number of secret rules to be followed. Guidelines that were never written down, only spoken in hushed whispers, for specific (and dangerous) circumstances. Most could be divided into one of two categories: 1, how to reduce the chances of a Lady of the house killing someone. 2, how to make sure that if they kill someone, it will not be you. Of these rules, there was one that you knew best of all, despite never having been told it. Why? Because you have observed it time and time again. After all, the rule revolved around you. To put it plainly… If Cassandra Dimitrescu was in an awful mood, but had yet to draw blood, send in the mute.

Even now, as you rushed down a corridor, you did not know why this rule was in place. You simply knew that you had been summoned countless times by frantic maidens, to go serve their volatile mistress. Admittedly you did understand their eagerness to thrust the task upon someone else. Cassandra was often considered the deadliest of the Dimitrescu daughters, for she was the quickest to anger, the one with the deepest bloodlust, and took the longest to calm down. Personally, you disagreed, believing that it wasn’t terribly hard to know what she did and did not like. All it took was some observation. It was Daniela who scared you, seeing as she was unpredictable. She didn’t even need to be in a bad mood to want to kill you.

Of course, that didn’t necessarily mean that you saw no danger in working with Cassandra. In fact, you saw a fair bit, such as now: Right as you round the corner, a shiny object hurls past your head, embedding itself into the wall. Had you been walking ever so slightly faster… Well, you preferred not to dwell on such things, especially not when the one who threw the thing was still nearby. Based on the howling laughter and swarm of insects that moves around you, the intended target was Lady Daniela. Across the room is the markswoman herself; Cassandra stood tall, huffing in anger, staring at the spot her sister had just vacated from.

“Damn it!” She yelled, stomping her foot as if the resulting shockwave might do what her weapon had not. Oddly amused, you’re quick to remove the sickle from the wall, careful as to not damage it. It’s a tad dirty, but nothing you can’t fix with your handy pocket cloth. Cleaning as you walk, you slowly move towards your employer, not even bothering to spare her a glance. After all, you had your own rules for dealing with her.

(1: Avoid eye contact for at least one minute after an outburst.)

By the time you make it to Cassandra, the minute has come and gone, allowing you to ever-so politely look her in the eyes when you return her blade. She scoffs, then practically rips the sickle from your hands. This was your job, however, so you made no complaints. Not that you could, at least not verbally. Instead, you gave a short bow of acknowledgement. Afterwards you stood still, awaiting either instructions or a dismissal. Neither came.

“I can’t believe that little shit tried to take my favorite dagger and thought she could get away with it! Agh, the nerve of her! Can you believe this?” Cassandra snapped, turning to you as if you might agree with her. Nod, simple yet effective. “At least you know how to handle a blade. Damn Daniela is lucky she didn’t get any scratches on mine.” Then she pulls the knife in question from its place on her belt, letting it gleam in the light. A soft exhale, head tipping to the side, wow is it pretty. So is the one holding it. Your mind wanders but your gaze does not. Always polite, always ready to serve.

(2: Do not get distracted; she is no patient lover, rather a demanding boss.)

“Cassandra! What was all that noise a minute ago?” Someone called, interrupting your ‘conversation’. The speaker soon appears, being none other than Lady Bela, the most reasonable of the castle residents. Though that meant little, considering the nature of her family. As if to prove your point, Cassandra merely rolls her eyes in reply, refusing to divulge the truth. And so Bela turned her gaze to you, perking a brow. “Feeling up to talking today?” She asked, already knowing the answer. Of course, your hands are already moving, not even waiting for her to finish speaking. This is a game you know intimately.

A hand goes to your belt, moving to pull a nonexistent blade from its sheath. Raising it, moving it forward then back several times, launching it towards the wall- towards the hole left behind. Then shifting, waving your hand in front of your face while exhaling a sharp breath. Flinching. An exaggerated gulp, pretending to check if your nose is still attached, sighing in relief. Lastly, an inclination of your head towards the culprit. Cassandra.

“I was aiming for Daniela. Not that it matters, nobody got hurt,” she stated, confident. Both hands clasped together, then tapping the palms together, mimicking a heartbeat at a reasonable pace. Suddenly a stomp. The beating stops, and you hold your hands next to your ear, as if listening for signs of life. Pause. Three seconds. Worried expression, eyes wide. Finally, fast as a gunshot, the heart beats again, wildly. At this, Bela shoots her sister a look of doubt, as well as judgement. Hoping to change the subject, Cassandra looks to you. “What are you doing here anyway?”

Rubbing your chin, thinking. Squinting for effect. Ah, got it! Both hands go to your sides, lifting the imaginary hem of a dress you aren’t wearing. Waltzing forward, yet in place, with the poise expected of a professional maid. Then the focus shifts to your face. Fear. A silent scream, a hand at your forehead, feeling like you… might… faint. Falling backwards, making a step at the very last second to prevent a real collapse. End scene.

“Someone was scared?” Bela asked, sounding uncharacteristically unsure of herself. When you nod, she does as well, considering the implications. “Why would they send you?”

“I hardly care why, I just want to know who so I can kick their ass,” Cassandra interjects, taking a step closer to you. All you do in response is shrug. Unsurprisingly this is not enough to please her, and before you know it she’s wrapped a hand around your throat. “Give. Me. A. Name. Now.” A perked brow. Thoughts practically telegraphed. ‘What do you expect?’ Opening your mouth, slightly, then wide, back to almost closed. No sound comes out. Obviously. It’s not like you wanted to break your own rule, but in this case you had no choice.

(3: Give her whatever she wants, consequences be damned.)

Luckily for you, Bela acts as a foil to Cassandra, there to smooth the seas. Moving behind you, she reaches into your back pocket and retrieves the notepad you keep there. Then she’s handing it to you while making eye contact with her sister. Cassandra promptly releases you, though she’s clearly not pleased, going so far as to push you away in one last act of anger. Internally you roll your eyes. On the outside, however, you quickly write down everything you know… which isn’t much.

“I don’t remember who it was. A lot of people have asked. This happens a lot.” Then you hand the paper to Bela, who soon looks back up at you in confusion. Too antsy to wait for her own turn, Cassandra yoinks the notepad from her sister’s hands, reading it over several times before reacting.

“What the fuck? Why would they send you to me because somebody pissed their pants in fear? I’m going to kill someone. Ugh, I don’t- this doesn’t make any goddamn sense,” Cassandra ranted, pacing back and forth, looking like she wanted to destroy something immediately. To your surprise, Bela doesn’t look the slightest bit concerned. If anything, she looks amused, and smiles when the two of you make eye contact. Something tells you that she knows something that you don’t. Before you can react, she quietly retrieves your notepad and returns it to you. Then she pauses, thinking, eying you with curiosity.

“Why don’t you go for now? See if anyone thanks you for stepping in, hmm?” She suggested, tone implying that this was absolutely about something else entirely. Still, you don’t care to disobey, and so you bid the two of them farewell with a deep bow. As you leave, you can almost make out part of what they say next. But you’re certain that you must have heard incorrectly. “Showing your favoritism a little too much, sister? If even the servants can see it-” the rest of the sentence is cut off by angry muttering from Cassandra. After that you’re too far away to hear anymore. What a strange day...

--------------------------

“Hey, you know where Lady Cassandra’s room is, right?” Ygritte asked, casually, definitely not having just been told by someone else that you were the solution to her problem. Pretending that you were unaware of this, you give her a smile and a nod. Later, behind her back, you will mentally add her to your list of people to watch out for. Maybe even decide to refuse to share your biscuits with her. In the meantime, you pretend that you don’t mind whatever task she’s about to dump on you. “Can you bring these books to her? I really have to get back to the kitchen soon, and that’s in the opposite direction…”

Technically true. Something told you that the real problem was that Cassandra had been extra loud the past few days. Regardless, you accept the books from her, leaving before she even finishes thanking you. Why do people do this? I don’t get it, you think. It’s like they think I’m immune to her rage. If that were true, I’d gladly throw myself between her and others. But no, that’s not the case. Hmmph, if only they saw my scars. Shaking your head to clear your thoughts, you keep walking, subconsciously rubbing the spot on your arm where Cassandra had cut you. Well, the worst spot. Being pain tolerant had made her take interest in you, during your first few weeks, but it’s what allowed you to learn her rules. Your rules, really.

Knock. Knock. A pause… three more, much softer. The door swings open, revealing your Lady, whose eyes widen at the sight of you. Tipping your hat (which you are not wearing), you greet her, forcing another smile. Then you present the books, free hand gesturing with a spiral motion towards them. She doesn’t respond. No, wait, she glances at the door hinges, considering closing the door in your face. Now both of you are staring at each other, daring the other to move.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” she finally said. There’s a gruffness to her voice that you hadn’t expected. It’s unlike her usual tone, less angry, more tired. Were those bags under her eyes?... No, just smudged makeup. “Don’t just stand there- tell me why you’re here.” Again, you gesture to the books, extending your hands further towards her. This time she takes a half-step backwards to avoid you. Peculiar. “Someone else was supposed to bring them, dipshit. Fucking hell, why can’t anyone around here do their damn jobs?” At last, she takes the books from you, carrying them deeper into your room. Though she does not close the door, you assume that your job is done. Or maybe you simply do not wish to deal with a Cassandra who’s frustrated by your specific presence. Either way, it breaks one of your rules, though you do not remember until it is too late.

(4: Do not leave until dismissed by a member of the family.)

“Where the hell are you going?” The sound of buzzing flies, a blur of motion around you, then the form of Cassandra solidifying in front of you. One of her hands is raised, pressing against the center of your chest. She pushes you, hard, making you stumble backwards into her room. Next thing you know you’ve crashed onto her floor. A tad stunned, you bring a hand up to hold your head, blinking rapidly for a few seconds. There’s the sound of a door closing, and then someone’s trying to help you stand. “I didn’t say you could leave yet. Now c’mon, I’ve got stuff for you to do.” Then she’s guiding you to her bed, making you sit down on the end. Panicked thoughts race through your mind one after another. What exactly was she intending? Thankfully you don’t have to wait long to find out. “Read through these, and-” a pause, like she hadn’t known what she was going to say until she was already speaking- “take notes. Make a summary of the bookmarked sections, or whatever.” Handing you a couple books (neither of which being ones you had just brought to her), she sits on the other side of the bed, refusing to look at you. She does, however, say one last thing, voice barely above a whisper. “Just stay for a while, okay?”

Inside your head, you make a mental note to amend your list of rules.

(4.b: Do not leave until dismissed by a member of the family. If Cassandra asks you to stay, you stay, no matter what. It’s worth it.)

[shitty-marvel-fan732]

Hi can I request a peter parker x barnes-Rogers reader (steve and Bucky's daughter) and me and Peter find out I'm pregnant with Peter's baby and we try to keep it a secret but everyone is suspicious of us cause I've been really poorly lately and Peter is being overprotective and one day Peter accidentally says "don't do that it could hurt the baby" or "and everyone freaks out and me, Peter and my dads have a long talk but everything is fine thanks xx

Unexpected

Pairing: Peter Parker x Barnes-Rogers! Reader

Requested?: Yes!

Word count: Almost 7k

Warnings: Pregnancy, some angst but thats it I think?

Author's Note: Yessssss this was so fun to write! Very excited to be back to posting on this page again. Thank you so much for the request! Hope to start adding in more content soon, so if yall have any requests feel free to send them in! And if you have requests sent in already, know that I love you and I will be getting to clearing out my inbox here pretty soon 🥰

Taglist: @just-that-bi-girl , @winterfrostsarmy

---------------------------

In retrospect, the entire team should have realized what was going on with you a lot sooner. To their credit, most of them had noticed that something was different about you, but other than Nat and Wanda none of them had a guess as to what exactly that was. 

The men appeared completely clueless in respect to the cause of the recent changes in you. Even Clint, a married father of three, hadn't caught on even after he'd seen you leaving the bathroom having clearly just thrown up. Tony had been the closest to figuring it out of the all men, having noticed your odd mood swings and crying fits as they became more and more frequent. He noted the same behavioral pattern as he'd found himself stuck in after the Battle of New York, and secretly worried for your mental well-being. He hadn't felt comfortable enough to broach the topic with you just yet though, instead opting to watch you from a distance for the time being. 

The women, however, seemed to understand almost instantly what was going on. Nat had figured things out once she realized that you had been skipping training lately and noticed that you and Peter barely appeared to leave one another's sides for even a moment. Wanda based her guess almost solely upon the fact that she could just feel that something was different about you; your entire energy had changed in the last few weeks and she noted it even before Peter had. Both women had their suspicions, but had seemingly agreed to keep their thoughts to themselves until you were ready to tell the team what was going on. 

Your dads were a different story altogether. 

It took Steve and Bucky much longer to notice something had changed with their daughter, Steve longest of all. Either you'd done a great job of avoiding your Pops or he'd been incredibly unobservant (or more likely both), but he hadn't seen anything that he would've considered out of the ordinary for you. 

That is, until today. 

"AAAAUUUUUUGGGGH"

Steve was on his feet in an instant, sprinting into the kitchen at the sound of your enraged scream. He skidded to a stop and surveyed the room with a trained look for the source of danger, but found none. In fact, you and Sam were the only two in the space as far as he could tell. Sam's back was pressed snugly against the furthermore countertop as you practically cornered him, the older man clearly caught off guard by your sudden burst of rage. You flung your hands around wildly as you yelled, one gripping a box so tightly that your knuckles were beginning to turn a concerning shade of white.

Completely bewildered, Steve watched in stunned silence for moment as you fumed and screamed expletives at the slightly-terrified looking Sam, without any clear indication as to what had happened. 

"I CANNOT FUCKING BELIEVE YOU, YOU GODDAMNED ASSHO-"

"Y/N Barnes-Rodgers!" Steve scolded you finally, momentarily stopping your verbal assault. "What in God's name is going on here?" 

Your eyes turned to your Pops' briefly before flickering back to glare in Sam's direction. 

"Pigeon-brain ate the last of my oreos," you seethed, walking forward and jabbing an accusatory finger to Sam's chest, his hands instantly flying upwards in surrender.

 Steve felt his jaw drop in utter disbelief.

“You-,” 

“What’s with all the commotion in here?” Bucky interrupted, striding into the kitchen much as Steve had moments ago and joining his husband's side with a confused look on his face. Steve crossed his arms and frowned at their daughter. 

“Apparently our daughter is screaming at Sam because he ate her cookies.” your Pops explained tersely.

“Not cookies, oreos,” you muttered, glare never wavering from Sam. You furiously threw the offending empty package roughly at his still bewildered face in lieu of another expletive. Sam was evidently so bewildered, in fact, that he didn't even flinch as the box hit his head and bounced pathetically to the floor. 

Bucky raised his eyebrow. 

“And that’s why you’ve been screaming like that?” he confirmed. You nodded, arms crossing your chest stubbornly. 

Bucky shrugged, looking towards his husband with a look of indifference. “Makes sense.”

“No, it absolutely does not make sense,” Steve lightly scolded, glancing at Bucky with a pointed look before returning his gaze to you. “Y/N you’re completely overreacting. Apologise to Sam right now.”

Your mouth dropped open, and you gaped at your dads with an expression that was equal parts betrayal and rage. 

“No.”

“No?” Steve repeated incredulously. He stared at you with disbelief, looking between you and Bucky like he was hoping he’d somehow misheard you. You met his glance with an equally stubborn look as you planted your feet solidly beneath you and tightened the cross of your arms. “What do you mean, no?”

“You heard me,” you spat, unwavering. 

Sam merely looked confused as he watched the two of you argue, if albeit still a bit scared, but Bucky was sure his shock was evident on his face. You never back-sassed your Pops, not even when you were really angry, and Bucky only felt his disbelief grow at the prospect that your attitude was all due to a few cookies. 

"Y/N, you don't get to tell me no," Steve ground out carefully, voice stern with a rare sort of parental authority he seldom had to use with you. In fact, Bucky was pretty sure he hadn't actually heard him use this particular tone since way back when you were a toddler testing the limits of your dads' patience. But unlike your three-year-old self, you didn't back down at your Pops' disapproving tone; in fact, you met his intense stare with a flippant roll of your eyes, deepening your dad's shock at your abrupt behavioral shift. 

"He fucking knows what he did, everyone knows those oreos are mine," you snapped, eyes alight with a kind of fury the likes of which your dads had never seen from you before. 

"Language!" Steve gasped at his daughter, his authoritative tone giving way to a spluttering one of complete disbelief. 

"FUCK OFF!" you shouted instantly. 

"HEY!"

Bucky had officially had enough. Irritation blossomed deep within his chest at the hurt he saw wash through his husband's eyes at your vulgar screech. Teenaged angst was one thing, but it was entirely another to blatantly disrespect Steve like you were. He still didn't know what was really causing you to act like this--because no way in hell could this be all over some oreos-- but he'd definitely passed the point where he even cared. 

"Doll, that’s enough. Clearly you're upset, but you cannot speak to your Pops like that," he practically growled. You turned your attention to your dad with the same kind of indignant irritation in your eyes, a flash of fresh anger rolling across your face at the sight of Bucky's equally irate expression. 

"You can fuck off too," you spat.

 Bucky's jaw clenched dangerously, the muscle in his cheek jumping and twitching as he took in his daughter's crass retort. Sam had long since left the scene, the nearly suffocating tension officially too much for him to take. Steve's eyes went wide for what felt like the millionth time since he'd first walked into the kitchen. If he hadn't known something was wrong before, he undoubtedly did now. 

You may not disobey him often, but you never snapped at Bucky. 

Steve had long since accepted that, though you loved the two of them the same, you'd always liked Bucky more. A daddy's girl from birth, you and Bucky had always been inseparable-- so for you to now scream and curse at him like this was like a flaming-red flag in Steve's mind. 

Something was definitely wrong. 

"Excuse me?" Bucky hissed. The two of you faced one another, arms crossed and expressions grim. You planted your feet even more solidly underneath you, staring your dad down with a fury so intense it was almost palpable. If it weren't for the overall tension of the situation, Steve might've teased the two of you for your near-mirrored positions. 

"Y/N? What's going on, I thought I heard yelling?" Peter asked as he practically skidded into the kitchen. He immediately joined you, face morphing into a look of utter concern at the sight of yours and Bucky's standoff. Steve braced himself, mentally apologizing to Peter for the verbal assault that was surely coming his way. 

But it never came. 

It was as if all the unwarranted anger was sucked from your body in a rush as soon as you caught sight of your boyfriend. Your face crumpled into an anguished expression, and Steve could see how the tears welled up in your eyes instantaneously. Peter clicked his tongue in pity and you thrust yourself instantly into his awaiting arms. He gripped you tightly, and you eagerly buried yourself further into his embrace. Face smashed tightly against his chest, you began to sob uncontrollably.

Your dads gaped at the scene, wide-eyed. 

"S-sam ate my oreos a-and now everyone's mad at me, and I j-just wanted my snack!" you all but wailed, voice muffled by Peter's body. 

Bucky blinked once as he turned to his husband, total confusion written all over his features. Steve just gaped in response, unable to formulate a semi-coherent thought, let alone words. 

"Oh angel, it's okay," Peter cooed softly into your hair, hands rubbing up and down your back soothingly as you continued to cry. "I can go and get you more oreos; don't cry Y/N/N, I'll just run down to the store right now to get you some."

Lifting your head from his chest, you seemed slightly placated and hopeful as you sniffled and looked up at him. 

"C-can I come with you?" you asked him shyly, tear-stained cheeks turning a slight shade of pink at your childish request. Peter smiled fondly down at you, clearly happy to see that you were feeling better. 

"Of course, it'll be nice to walk with you," he smiled sweetly at you and lightly kissed your nose. You giggled as you removed yourself from his embrace before walking over to your dads. 

"M'sorry I shouted daddys. Love you guys!" you apologized in a chipper voice before kissing both of the men's bewildered cheeks. 

The two supersoldiers both stood in stunned silence as they watched you leave hand in hand with Peter, who briefly shot them an apologetic look before the pair were gone. Steve thought he heard Peter mumbling something to Y/N as they left, but the only words he could pick out were "not good to get so worked up", which only confused him further. 

"What in the hell was that?" Bucky grumbled, face still crinkled with bewilderment. Steve simply shook his head. 

"I have absolutely no idea. I've never seen her behave like that, have you?"

"Nothing like that, but she was acting funny the other day too," he frowned, recalling the scene he'd walked in on just a few days prior. "She was full out sobbing on the couch a few days ago over a toilet paper commercial."

Steve gaped at his husband. 

"Sh-she...what?"

"Doll have you seen your Pops? I can't find him any-"

Bucky's question died in his throat as soon as he hit the threshold of the TV room. You were curled up on the couch, arms wrapped around your knees as sobs racked through you. Peter sat next to you with his eyes crinkled in concern and hands rubbing gently at your shoulders as you cried. 

"Y/N what's wrong, why are you crying?" Bucky asked. Feeling his protective instincts kick in instantly,  he couldn't help but search the room with his eyes in search of any danger. Finding nothing, he narrowed his eyes at your boyfriend.

"Did he do something?" Bucky demanded. "Parker I swear to God if you hurt her I-" 

"What? N-no I didn't do anything Mr. Bucky I swear!" Peter spluttered, eyes widening in fear at the terrifying look in your dad's eyes. 

"Bullshit, then why's she crying like that? Of course you did someth-"

"N-no it's not P-peter dad!" you interrupted tearfully. "There was an ad on TV that just made me emotional okay? You know, the one with the boy crying in the bathroom and his dad offers him toilet paper for his tears?"

There was a beat of silence. 

"Doll, you really mean to tell me that you're sobbing over a toilet paper ad?" Bucky asked, brows furrowed in disbelief. You sniffled as you nodded, and fresh tears began to pick your eyes once more. 

"Yes! I mean it's just so inspiring," you blubbered. "I mean how often do you actually get to see a teenaged boy cry on TV? Never, cause toxic masculinity standards in this stupid patriarchal society we all live in say otherwise! And not only does the dad accept that his son is crying and is allowed to feel real emotions, he sits down to talk with him about them! I just got so happy thinking about all the little boys who will see this ad and feel the validation that they're normal for feeling sad every once in a while!"

Bucky just stared at his daughter with a blank look for a moment; he looked like he was unable to formulate a single response to the information he'd just been given. 

"Well that's...uh….that's great I gue-"

"I can't believe you would just assume that me crying just had to be because of something Peter did," you interrupted, angrily brushing the leftover tears from your face. "It's so unfair, you always blame him for everything!"

"I-uh," Bucky stammered, flustered by the sudden change in your emotions. You scoffed and stood quickly from your spot in Peter's embrace, crossing your arms petulantly. 

"It's true dad, you're always looking for something to yell at him for! It's so biased and unfair," you practically yelled. "Honestly it's such prejudiced bullshit. Some kind of outdated 'lock up your daughters' rhetoric that I can't believe yo…"

At some point during your impassioned speech you began stomping away from both your dad and Peter while still ranting. As your shouts became fainter and fainter Bucky found himself directing his dumbfounded expression at Peter instead. In a rare show of solidarity with your boyfriend, Bucky silently begged for an explanation as to what on earth had just happened. 

Despite the way his heart was hammering wildly in his chest Peter remained silent. He offered only a passive shrug to your dad before he clambered to his feet and began following after you. If Bucky hadn't been caught so off guard he surely would've been suspicious at the visible sweat that was beading on Peter's forehead and the way the young boy's hands trembled as he quickly left the room, the question of what was causing your mood swings laying thickly unanswered in the air. 

"What the fu-"

"She...a toilet paper ad? Really?"

"Yep, a friggin' toilet paper commercial," Bucky nodded solemnly. Steve blinked once, shaking his head. 

"So what did you do?" he asked incredulously. 

"Nothin'," Bucky shrugged. "She was so damned worked up that I figured she needed some space, and by the time I went to talk to her she'd already seemed completely fine. Thought it wasn't worth upsetting her all over again."

Steve snorted. 

"Yeah right, you were just too scared you would make her mad again," he chuckled. 

"Hell yeah I was," Bucky admitted freely, crossing his arms and shooting his husband a defiant expression. "You've seen her, you know how terrifying she can be when she's pissed!"

Steve chuckled once more, shaking his head fondly. 

"Mmmm, and I wonder where she got that from."

Bucky narrowed his eyes and scowled at the implication, a surly look overtaking his features. Steve couldn't help but laugh outright at the expression on his husband's face; it was the exact same face you always made when you were annoyed, right down to the little pout in your lip. 

"For the last time Stevie, she doesn't get that from me," he grumbled. 

"Sure Buck, whatever you say," Steve laughed. 

Though your odd behavior and mood swings were at least now on both your dads' radar, neither had any clue as to the actual reason for your sudden changes. The pair of them chalked up the incidents to little more than teenaged angst, however they had no idea how wrong they were nor just how soon they were about to find out what was really going on. 

---------------------------

"I don't understand Y/N," Steve stated carefully. "Why exactly don't you want to go with the team?"

You shifted your weight from foot to foot anxiously, huffing out a breath in mock annoyance and very real frustration. 

You'd been in the training room, lightly working out with Nat and Wanda when your Pops and Tony had walked in to announce that there was an urgent mission that apparently would require the entire team. Internally cursing your timing, you'd tried to sneak out of the room unnoticed, but as your luck would have it, your dad caught you. Now you were stuck arguing with your dads, the attention and curiosity of everyone in the gym directed at you. 

Your heart was thrumming wildly in your chest as you furiously racked your brain for some way, any way, out of this assignment and this conversation without an actual reason. 

Well, a reason you were actually willing to give, that is.

"Why does it even matter?" you snapped, hoping that no one clocked the tremor in your voice. "It's not like you guys even need me anyways."

"Doll, you always jump at the chance to come with us," your dad interjected. "So what's so different about today?"

"I just don't want to," you whined, lying through your teeth. "I'm tired and I don't feel good."

"But you were literally just training?" Sam pointed out. You narrowed your eyes at him, irritation bubbling under the surface of your anxiety at the contradiction. The older man shrank back a bit under your firey gaze, the previous incident in the kitchen clearly prominent in his mind as he stepped behind Wanda. 

Clint snorted. 

"If you could even call that training," he mumbled under his breath. Your jaw dropped. 

"What is this, gang up on Y/N day?!" you sassed as your arms flew to cross your chest defensively. Your Pops shook his head. 

"We're just worried Y/N/N," he reassured, brows furrowed with concern. "You've been behaving very strangely lately, and this is just one more thing."

"Yeah doll," Bucky nodded, agreeing with his husband. "So what gives?"

Your pulse sped up once more at the direct question, a sickening feeling rising in your throat like bile at the realization of just how suspicious your dads were. Unable to think clearly through your panic, you did the only thing you could think of. 

You scoffed in fake disbelief, rolled your eyes, and began stomping out of the room. 

"Y/N Barnes-Rodgers!" your dad shouted in an indignant and angered tone. "We are not done talking about this!" 

Damn. 

"What?!" you whirled around, stomping your foot like a child. "I just don't want to go this time okay?"

Bucky's face turned red at your open defiance, but Steve interrupted before he could even open his mouth to snap back at you. 

"No Y/N it's absolutely not okay," he scolded. You felt the burn of unshed tears prick your eyes as they searched desperately around the room, mind racing to think of an excuse that would get you out of this situation. 

"But-"

"No, no buts Y/N," your dad barked, clearly having composed himself enough to speak once more. His arms were crossed as he glared at you, and the stubbornly annoyed look on his face was enough to make the tears in your eyes begin to fall. A feeling of utter entrapment and fear settled in your chest like a suffocating weight as you felt the hot, fresh tears stream down your cheeks. 

"Doll, are you crying?" your Pops questioned incredulously. "What on earth is going on with you?"

"Nothing! I just can't go today," you blubbered, past the point of being able to hold back your sobs. 

"You can't go, or you won't go?" Bucky asked pointedly, evidently not swayed by your tears. 

"It doesn't matter," you cried desperately. Your dad's eyes bored into yours directly as if he was searching your brain to find out what you were holding back from him. 

"It clearly does matter, otherwise you wouldn't be acting like this," he continued harshly. "I'm not sure what it is you aren't telling us, but I don't even care at this point. Stark said he needs everyone and your Pops told you to go, so you need to get yourself together and go and get ready."

The tears were now cascading down your face in giant streams and your face was growing warmer by the second. You darted your gaze back and forth between the other team members' faces, still searching for some kind of last minute way out of this situation. Finding only curious or concerned expressions, you turned back to your dads with wide eyes. You felt your mouth go dry as your lips open and closed wordlessly, the severity of your current predicament weighing you down more and more by the second. 

"I-"

"No. I don't want to hear another word from you Y/N," your dad snapped. "Go and get ready for the mission now."

"But she can't go!"

Time stopped for a split second as the entire room's heads snapped towards the desperate shout.

Peter had only just entered the training room, wondering where everyone was, when he caught the tail end of your dad's order. He couldn't help but blurt the first thing that'd come to mind, the implication of which only dawned on him afterwards. As he rushed to your side he shot you a sheepish look, and you internally cringed a bit at his slip. 

Even though you were certain Peter's involvement would only further reduce your already slim chances of getting out of this mission without a full confession of what was really going on, you couldn't help but feel an inkling of relief as his eyes locked with yours. His hand immediately intertwined itself with yours once he'd reached you, and your belly fluttered with a warm tinge of comfort with the simple touch.

True, things were probably about to go sideways for the both of you, but at least Peter was here to go through it by your side. 

"Excuse me Parker?" your dad spat incredulously, eyes blazing with anger at your boyfriend's outburst. "I don't recall asking you for your opinion on my daughter or what she can or can't do."

Peter stood a little taller as he looked Bucky straight in the eyes with an unprecedented amount of determination. 

"She can't go." he practically growled, eyes stern and unyielding as he openly defied your dad. He was standing a half-step in front of you, tense back partially shielding you from the rest of the team as he spoke.

 Even with his face turned the opposite direction you could see from his profile the way his brows were furrowed and how dark his normally chocolate brown eyes had gotten. You felt a slight shiver run up your spine at the fiercely protective energy Peter was radiating, and your heart felt a bit lighter at the way he stood up to your dad on your behalf. You squeezed his hand in an effort to ground him, and he softened marginally as he glanced back at you.

Your dad however looked as if he might combust soon based on the way his eyes bulged out and his face turned a concerning shade of red. 

"What's that supposed to mean Peter?" Steve interjected carefully, his hand reaching up to rest comfortingly on his husband's shoulder. 

"It means exactly what we said," Peter said firmly. "Y/N cannot go on this mission today."

The team watched the interaction between you, Peter, and your dads with their heads bouncing back and forth between the four of you like they were watching a tennis match. Not a word had been uttered from a single one of them, and yet they stood completely transfixed as they waited patiently to see the outcome of the argument. 

"And why, pray tell, is that Parker?" your dad hissed, scowl etched across his features. 

Peter's eyes traveled to yours, irises swimming with a silent question. Realizing that there was no way out, you took a steadying breath as you nodded softly and squeezed his hand once more in reassurance. Peter smiled at you fondly before dropping his smile and turning back to your parents. 

"She can't go because...it could be bad for the baby."

You could've heard a pin drop in the training room. No one made a sound, no one even dared to breathe. The shock in the room was palpable, but you couldn't be bothered to even glance at anyone other than your dads, their reactions the only two that mattered to you in this moment. 

Though you'd expected a rather explosive reaction from your parents (especially from your dad), you were met instead with blank stares. Your dads were simply staring at you and Peter in stunned silence, and their lack of a response actually frightened you more than the screaming you'd been anticipating for weeks now. The beat of silence seemed to stretch on eternally, though in reality it was probably no more than thirty seconds. You watched nervously, your hand becoming sweaty in Peter's as you waited. Finally, your Pops blinked and opened his mouth cautiously. 

"Bad for the wha-"

"I SWEAR TO GOD PARKER THAT'D BETTER BE SOME KIND OF DISGUSTING PET NAME FOR MY DAUGHTER."

Ahhh. There it was. 

Your dad had clearly broken through his frozen thoughts enough to respond, and you would've laughed if you weren't so terrified. He looked positively furious; his eyes were darker than you'd ever seen them and his face had darkened from red to an almost purple color that looked painful to say the least. His murderous gaze was hyper-fixated on Peter, and you couldn't help but step in front of your poor boyfriend in an effort to take some of the heat off him. 

Peter, evidently, was having none of that, and he frowned before pulling you backwards and tucking you into his side tightly. If you hadn't been so focused on your dad right now you might've rolled your eyes at his over-protectiveness. Instead you allowed yourself the comfort of his embrace as you took a steadying breath. 

"It's not," you responded as calmly as you could manage while your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your throat. "I'm pregnant."

Silence enveloped the room once more, and you could've sworn it was even more awkward than the first time. It must've been, because you could see Nat and Wanda ushering the rest of the team out of the gym out of the corner of your eye. You weren't quite sure if you were grateful for the privacy or more scared of how your dads would react now that you were alone.

Your dads stared at you and Peter with wildly different expressions. Steve was staring off into space and looking as if he was either going to throw up or pass out soon, and Bucky still looked as if he was about a half a second away from murdering Peter with his bare hands. To his credit, Peter was still standing by your side with the same look of determination as before despite this, but you could feel the way his pulse was hammering through his veins as he too carefully surveyed your dads' reactions.

You stood quietly, trying to be patient as you watched them, but the suspense and anticipation quickly became overwhelming and you couldn't help but blurt,

"Say something!"

Though both their gazes snapped up to your face with your plea, yet neither your dad nor you Pops said anything. You were suddenly overcome with the urge to explain yourself. 

"I know that you're probably in shock or angry or maybe both- and honestly that's completely fair!" You rambled breathlessly. "I know we're still only eighteen, but I really think everything's gonna be okay? Really, I do. And I'm so sorry about today, believe me this isn't how we planned on telling you at all bu-"

"You're not coming on the mission," Steve interrupted, his voice completely devoid of emotion. "Nor is Peter. Your dad and I will be back later, and we're all going to have a long discussion."

It felt like all the air was sucked out of your body as you watched your Pops pull your dad towards the training room exit. You hadn't been fully sure of just how you were going to tell them, but never in your wildest dreams did you imagine that it would come out like this. Tears once more welling up in your eyes, your heart sank as you realized just how disappointed and angry they were. 

"I love you," your voice cracked as you called to their retreating forms, unable to bear the sight of them leaving without reminding them. They both paused in the doorway, and without turning back both muttered that they loved you too before they were gone. 

As soon as they left you immediately twisted yourself and thrust your face into Peter's chest, the tears flowing steadily as you sobbed. He wrapped his arms tightly around your shaking form, lips finding the crown of your head and hands rubbing soothingly across your back. 

"Th-they hate me now," you whispered brokenly into Peter's soft hoodie in between sobs. "They hate me Pete, they're n-never going to forgive me for this!"

Peter shushed you quietly, gentle lips kissing your hair as he began to sway you back and forth slowly. 

"They don't hate you angel," he soothed. "They're just surprised. Disappointed in the timing maybe, but they'll get over it. I promise."

"I never wanted it to go like this," you cried as you pulled your head from his chest slightly. Peter's hands left your back for a moment to come and rest on either of your cheeks. He leaned down to press a soft kiss to your forehead before retreating upwards to look deep into your eyes. 

"I know you didn't sweet girl, but it did," he said gently as he brushed away some of your tears with the pads of his thumbs. "It did and it's going to be okay. We'll talk to your dads when they get back and clear everything up. And no matter what, you and I are going to get through this together, okay?"

You sniffled softly, nodding sadly. Peter's eyes were swimming with guilt and dejection at the sight of the empty expression on your face. He didn't know how to comfort you in this situation, but it was like every molecule in his body was demanding he do so. He leaned down once more to press a loving kiss to your forehead, then your cheeks, your nose, and finally your lips. 

You sighed, head retreating back to his chest once your lips disconnected. Sadness was still swirling in your stomach and you just longed for the feeling that being in Peter's arms brought. He seemed to understand perfectly- as he always did- pressing his cheek to the top of your head and wrapping his arms tightly around you without a word. The two of you stood there for a while, bodies entangled as you continued lightly swaying back and forth. Peter's hands continued to roam up and down your spine and your tears began to slow and dry. 

Eventually you hummed, stepping back and up on your toes to press an appreciative kiss to Peter's face. He smiled as a faint pink tinted his cheeks at your display of affection. You giggled, slightly amazed that even after everything you two had done, something as simple as a peck on the cheek could still make him blush.

"Thank you," you said quietly, looking up into his eyes. He quirked an eyebrow at you in confusion. 

"For staying with me through all that. I mean it's you, so I wasn't really worried...but my dad can be really frightening. So thanks," you half joked. 

Peter chuckled lightly as he pulled you back into his arms once more. 

"Of course angel. Told you, I'm never going to leave you. Even if your dad is super scary. You two are stuck with me now. I'm never ever going to leave you or our baby," he vowed quietly into your hair as his hands reached down to rub the small but growing bump in your tummy lovingly. "We're gonna get through this all together, as a family."

You felt tears well up in your eyes once more, but this time out of sheer love and happiness.

 Damned hormones. 

"You're gonna be such a good daddy Peter," you whispered gratefully. Hearing the slight crack in your voice, Peter pulled you away from his chest gently to wipe your tear stained cheeks once more. 

"Hey now, no more tears today," he scolded playfully as he tugged you across the room. "When's the last time you ate something? We have the whole kitchen to ourselves now, and I bet my babies are hungry!"

You chuckled lightly as you allowed him to pull you along with him towards the kitchen. All the while, he chattered happily about the new article he'd just read about the specific nutritional needs pregnant women have, and your heart swelled at his thoughtfulness. You were still apprehensive about the upcoming conversation with your dads, but you were definitely feeling better. As much as their approval and involvement would mean to you, you'd come to the conclusion that as long as you had Peter by your side everything would work out alright. 

Somehow.

---------------------------

"Petey, are you sure you don't need any-"

"No! Nope. I've got this," your boyfriend interrupted stubbornly. You signed, hand absentmindedly rubbing across your swollen stomach as you watched him struggle with the latch on the new crib the two of you were setting up. 

Well, the crib that Peter was setting up. 

It'd been a few months since the team had found out about the newest upcoming addition to the Tower, and you'd decided that it was time to begin decorating the nursery. Tony, of course, had offered to have someone come in to do all the heavy lifting, but Peter was insistent that he be the one to set everything up. His protectiveness over you and the rapidly growing child you were carrying had only increased as the months went on, so much so that you were lucky now if he'd even let you stand for long enough to watch him put the baby's furniture together. It was endearing, really, how much he cared for the two of you, but you'd be lying if you said that you weren't becoming a little frustrated with how little you could do to help. 

"Really Peter, I can help," you grumbled, annoyed. "I'm pregnant, not disabled."

"Of course you could help angel, but I don't need help," he grunted, eyes never leaving the mass of parts around him. "You already have to do all the work of growing and housing our baby, the least I can do is build the crib!"

"Housing?" you teased, quirking an eyebrow.

"You know what I meant," he grumbled, and you couldn't help but chuckle at his growing frustration. 

Peter was clearly losing his grip just a bit as he struggled to make sense of the instructions that had been provided with the pieces. He sighed, throwing the pamphlet down on the ground before trudging over to where you stood, leaning against the changing table that he'd put together a few days ago. 

"I've engineered web-fluid from absolutely nothing, re-built computers from scratch and yet I can't even manage to put this stupid bed together," he whined as he dropped his head down onto your shoulder in defeat. "M'gonna be a terrible father."

"Ohhh bubs," you cooed sympathetically, smile falling quickly and heart lurching at the tone of pure dejection in his voice. 

You wrapped your arms around him, one snaking around his back and the other cradling his head. Your fingers began instantly carding through his chocolate-brown locks as he nuzzled his nose lightly into the junction of your neck and shoulder. His hands wound their way around your waist too- or as well as they could with your round tummy in the way- and his own hands began absentmindedly tracing patterns over your bump.

"Peter you have to know that isn't true," you soothed, kissing his cheek softly. "You're going to be an amazing dad."

He hummed non-commitally. 

"You think you're not?" you challenged, fingers halting their dance against his scalp. "Do the thing."

He raised his head from your shoulder, brows furrowed in confusion. 

"What does that have to do with-"

"Do the thing," you interrupted sternly. He sighed and knelt down, grumbling inaudible complaints as he went. Once he was face to face with your bump he placed his hands on either side, thumbs rubbing soft circles into your stretched-out skin.

"Hi baby, it's me, your daddy," he spoke softly into your stomach, lips so close that you shivered with each breath that ghosted over your clothed belly. "I love you so much."

The baby responded instantly at the sound of Peter's voice, feet jabbing out and kicking excitedly from within just underneath where his hands lay. You felt your heart skip a beat at both the feeling the movement in your belly and the sight of the dopey smile that lit up Peter's handsome face as he felt his child's kicks. You rubbed over his hands lovingly and smiled down at him.

"See bubs? He starts throwing a party in there every time you do that. He loves you so much already, that's not gonna change," you reassured him softly. Peter's smile dropped just a little. 

"But the crib-"

"Fuck the crib," you responded stubbornly. "You are the most caring, sweetest, and most thoughtful person I know Peter. You're going to be the world's best dad."

"Whoa whoa, believe we're the ones with the mugs that claim that title," a voice chuckled from the doorway. 

You smiled fondly, eyes darting to find the sight of your Pops leaning casually against the frame of the door with your dad standing just behind him. Both had amused smiles on their faces, and you grinned widely. Even Peter smiled as he rose to his feet and wrapped one of his arms around your back to pull you into his side. 

"Okay, third best dad in the world then," you amended, grinning. 

"That's better," your dad piped up, smiling. "Now what's this I hear about a faulty crib? Sam said he can hear Peter cursing all the way from his room."

Peter groaned, tilting his head backwards in exasperation as you laughed out loud. 

"It isn't faulty, I'm just an idiot," Peter grumbled. Everyone but him chuckled, and your dad walked further into the room. He clapped a hand on Peter's back as he grinned at the younger man. 

"Normally I'd agree with you, but I know if I do Steve will bring up how Y/N had to sleep in the bassinet for like 6 months because we couldn't figure out how to put her crib together."

"You mean you couldn't figure it out," your Pops snorted from his place in the doorway. "As I recall, I was not allowed to help with the furniture because you were determined to figure it out on your own."

Bucky shrugged, seemingly indifferent to his husband's insinuation. 

"Whatever. Point is, I wanted to see if you wanted some help putting it together. Thought I might be able to give you some tips," your dad continued. Peter's smile widened, and he nodded eagerly before your dad knelt down to help try and make sense of the directions.

The discussion after the incident in the training room had gone much better than you would've ever imagined. Both your dads had been relatively calm once they'd returned from their mission, and surprisingly there had been no screaming, no crying, and no threats towards Peter from Bucky like you'd been picturing. The four of you had sat down together and had a long, mature discussion of what your plans were in terms of raising and caring for your child, and by the end your dads had even seemed enthusiastic about the prospect of being grandparents. Their involvement and excitement had only grown in the following months to the point now that you felt silly for ever having been frightened to tell them. 

And now as you stood watching your boyfriend and dad work together to put your child's room together, tears began collecting in your eyes and you felt your chest warm with feelings of overwhelming love. Steve, noticing your tears, moved to wrap his arms around you and you leaned your head against his shoulder. Rubbing your belly lovingly, you couldn't help but feel a wave of gratitude wash over you for the men in your life and love for the little one that you'd all be meeting soon. 

[qyllenhaal]

Good Wives Club [2]

Lee Bodecker x Reader. 3rd POV. Word Count: 4.2k.

Spin-off to American Pie

Chapter One || Chapter Three

Summary: It's been more than a year since she's escaped the ghost of her past but life is never fair to a girl like her. Lee doesn't care that she has a husband, a nice house, and sugary fake friends, he wants what's rightfully his.

Warnings (series): Cheating, smut, violence, housewife kink, period-typical misogyny, age gap (about a ten year difference), manipulation, dark themes all around.

A/N: If anyone wants to be added to future tag list just let me know!

Y/n woke up at 5am with a dry mouth and her head spinning. Her night has been plagued with restlessness and she couldn't stay still. When she did fall asleep, it was for small periods of time. Each time she woke up she was not aware of where she was for the first five seconds, panic almost setting in before she registered the sound of her husband snoring.

The end of her irregular sleep cycle ended because she saw the hallway light was on. She sighed when realized it must be time for her husband to get ready for work. She virtually got no sleep and she'll probably be tired for the rest of the day.

She gets up from their creaky bed and starts walking down the hallway. It takes a while for her eyes to adjust to the brightness as she slowly plods down the hallway. She follows the light to the bathroom where she can hear her husband getting ready for work. On the days he goes in this early Y/n is relieved that she doesn't have to get up and cook breakfast for him.

The door is cracked but she opens it to find him inside. She situates herself in the doorway, watching him shave his face through the mirror.

"Good morning," he spoke with a scratchy voice. Even though Y/n didn't marry Llewellyn for love, she's still attracted to him and likes his company most of the time. She feels an ache inside of her that wants him to take her, but after running into Lee last night she's afraid she won't be able to get Lee's face out of her mind while beneath her husband.

"Good morning. Going in early?"

"Yep. Dad wants to do inventory today since he put it off last week."

"Oh okay," she accepts quietly, ready to leave her husband alone so he can get ready in peace.

However he asks her a surprising question, "hey, did you enjoy last night?"

"Uh, it was fine I guess. Did you?" Her hope is that he at least enjoyed himself somewhat.

"You know I don't like that super fancy stuff like that, but I have to eat crow; it wasn't all that bad and Bodecker's not as bad as I thought. He's kind of a funny guy. I still think he's not as hard on crime like everyone claims he is, but personally, he's not that bad. Florence was nice too. She invited us to dinner on Wednesday night, apparently that's the only night Lee has off. I told her we'd be able to join them."

The turn of events was shocking. Y/n couldn't believe her ears and she thought maybe she indeed was still asleep. Lou was not fond of many people and his only "friends" were his two brothers so him warming up to Lee and Florence left her speechless. So speechless that she didn't register the fact that he accepted a dinner invite for them.

"What?"

"What do you mean ‘what’? You dragged me to that dinner last night and wanted me to be nice, and now you're confused when I do just that?"

"I-I'm not confused...just shocked," she admits truthfully, "I can't believe you want to go to someone’s house who isn't your mother house for dinner —are you sure you want to go?"

"We're going Y/n."

His tone of voice indicates that the conversation is done and over with and the decision has been made. Y/n didn't even get to contest his decision but Lou can tell when Y/n is in a defiant mood. Her folding her arms and walking away was confirmation for him. She stalks her way back to the bedroom where she takes to hiding under the covers.

Lee and Lou under the same roof — it makes her stomach churn just to think about it. They're wildly different from each other but the thing she hates about them is what they have in common.

All she can hope is that this nightmare ends and she wakes back up to a life without Lee's ghost lingering around.

-

She decided to go with a floral dress again. She really wanted to take out the checkerboard dress that made her legs look good and showed off her arms, but Lou would have made her change before she had the chance to step out of the house. The floral print is dizzying, but it's the kind of dress that Lou likes to see her wear.

It's just a small dinner at the Bodecker's house but Y/n opts for kitten heels instead of sensible flats. She feels obligated to look her best despite there being less people to dress for. She's never been alone with Florence save for that day at the grocery store. Florence is always dressed to the 10's and Y/n needs to look just as good, if not better. She claims to hate Lee, but it would be so satisfying if she caught Lee ogling her breasts.

"Are you ready?"

Y/n thought Lou was too dressed up for a home dinner of four. He wore a pinstriped suit and those nice leather shoes he bought himself around the holidays.

"As ready as I'll ever be," she sighs in an attempt to let off some steam.

It was a shorter drive than Y/n expected. Florence hadn't disclosed where she lived before, but Brewer Heights wasn't that for them to live at a distance. The sun was nearly dipped over the horizon and the remaining light that hits their house makes it look like a model home. Everything little aspect and detail Y/n was going to compare herself too. She lives in a nice house, but Florence lives in a nicer house. It tears her up knowing she has the ultimate upper hand over Florence in the form of her own husband and she can't even act upon it. She would royally fuck up her life and their lives too if she decide to let her jealousy get the best of her.

As she walks up their stairs as another man's wife, she accepts that she is jealous. She's always been jealous of Florence even when she didn't know her name. What made her so worthy of all of these things? Lee used to act like he hates the woman so she must be a bitch behind closed doors. It wouldn't be surprising if she is because most people in this town will smile in your face and then gossip about you a minute later.

Lou knocks on the door and only a second later Florence is opening the door with a big smile on her face and Lee right next to her. He wore his police uniform without the jacket while Florence looked like a Lilly Pulitzer catalog girl.

It only took one millisecond of their eyes locking together for Y/n to feel the electricity between her and Lee. She drags her eyes away from his, but she can bet that he has a smirk on her face. He always liked to see her squirm; in a good and bad way.

"Y/n, Llewellyn! I'm so glad you could make it! Why don't you come on in," Florence steps to the side, nudging Lee over with her, to make way for Y/n and her husband.

Her eyes scan over every inch of their house. It's warm, cozy, and oddly comforting. Everything little thing was in its place; perfectly dusted and polished. Y/n is sure that Lee had no hand in decorating this place, it screams Florence through and through.

"Dinner is almost ready. I started the scalloped potatoes a little too late, but it should be done soon! Y/n, do you want to help me set the table?"

Y/n didn't want to leave her husband alone with Lee, but she also didn't want to be in the room with just them. She nods at Florence and follows behind her to their kitchen.

The house smells like Lou's parent's house on holidays. Y/n's stomach rumbles and she doesn't realize how hungry she was. She despises herself for wanting Florence's cooking, but she barely ate today because of how nervous she was.

"I already laid out the place mates, you can place the plates and silverware."

Y/n picks up the expensive dining ware that Florence points towards. She wonders if Florence cooks like this all the time, even when Lee works well into the night.

The walls of their dining room have an awful floral pattern. Y/n is beginning to become sick at the sight of anything that pertains to flowers. The cedar table is perfect for accommodating guests and Y/n wonders how many dinner parties they had in this room. Florence seems to put a lot of stock into being a good hostess. Y/n herself has yet to throw a dinner party at her home, but setting the plates on someone else's dining room table feels like practice. She silently imagines her house filled with Lou's family as she cooks dinner for them.

Florence enters the room and starts placing the dishes in the middle of the table. Her presence takes Y/n out of her fantasy, and when she sees how Florence made a 3-course-meal she feels worse.

"Does the food look good? I tried some new recipes from Julia Child's cookbook to try to impress you and Llewellyn," she admits, "I wasn't sure what you two would like, but Lee loves when I make those recipes from Julia Child and I bet Llewellyn would love it too! I could lend you the book some time!"

"Of course. I love her work!" Y/n lies straight through her teeth. She has no clue who the hell Julia Child is.

Florence grabs one last thing before calling the husbands into the dining room. She places one beer on the coasters designated for Lee and Lou. Lou has never been much of a drinker, but she knows that Lee can knock down a few beers in one sitting. He might be on his best behavior tonight in front of his wife and company.

"Dinner's ready!" Florence called out.

Y/n took her seat on the right side of the table and Florence sat opposite of her. Their husbands come walking in laughing as if they were young boys sneaking back into the house during a family get together. Y/n doesn't like it; she doesn't like it at all. They look too cheery with each other and she knows that Lee is doing it on purpose — she can see it in his eyes when he quickly glances at her. He takes pride in making her uncomfortable. Y/n wishes she had that same affect on him to scare him off a bit, but no matter how chummy she gets with Florence, Lee looks unbothered.

Florence stands up from her seat as if she's presenting the food on the table to an audience. Everything is placed perfectly with the main dish being the middle of the smaller plates.

"This looks great honey, you made a whole feast," Lee walked up to Florence's side and kissed on the cheek. Y/n's eyes are trained on his hand snaking around her waist and giving her a light squeeze before letting go. When she pulls her eyes away from his hands, she sees that Florence almost looks shocked at her husband's affection; Lee is definitely putting on a show for Y/n and it's a damn good one.

Lee sits opposite of Lou and the first thing he does is open his beer. The food isn't even on plates anymore and he's drinking.

"I hope you like Schmidt's, Llewellyn. Lee loves it so it's all we have in the house."

"I'm not one to drink beer often, but I'll try it. And call me Lou, Florence."

Lou was acting out of his normal character. Him only interacting with his family and Y/n left him a bit awkward in the presence of others, but around Florence and Lee he seems to be much...warmer. If Lee was someone else then Y/n would be over the moon, but because it's him she can't even force herself to even look happy about it.

Y/n takes note of how Florence places portions of food on Lee's plate. They were small portions too. She was always strict about what he ate and how much he drank. She's surprised Florence is letting him drink tonight, but she must be trying to look nicer in front of guests.

Y/n was not as controlling as Florence. She always let Lou fix his plate to his liking. She thought it made her a good wife for letting her husband make his own decisions. But Y/n felt a tap on her shoulder after she finished making her own plate. He looked down at his empty plate before looking back at her and nodded towards the food.

"Y/n," he tries to whisper but his tone is rather harsh.

"What?" She whispers back in true confusion.

"My plate."

He looked at her as if she was crazy, as if it was a common occurrence for her to fix his plate. She starts to scramble to save herself from further embarrassment, the sound of silverware against plates so loud. She can feel the stares coming from the other side of the table but she doesn't dare look up.

Her skin began to grow hot. Her husband had embarrassed her in front of Lee and Florence. The worst part was when Florence tried to change the subject to something lighthearted to pull the attention off of Y/n. She felt small and useless. Lou never expected her to fix his plate, but he looked at her as if she was crazy for not doing so. She didn't want to spend dinner almost in tears. This changed behavior in her husband is giving her whiplash and making her dizzy.

"So, Y/n, did you enjoy the other night?"

"It was really nice Florence," she replies sheepishly.

"Susie and I put so much work into planning it. You should join us next time! We're going to start working on the fundraising events for Lee's next campaign-"

"Let's not talk about that tonight Florence," Lee interrupts. It was a moment that would've left Y/n embarrassed if she was in Florence's shoes but Florence was much better at masking her emotions. Only for a split second can Y/n see Florence flinch at his interjection before she just smiles.

"Sorry Lee, you know how excited I get about those things," she masks her apology in a cheery voice.

Dinner basically became a probe of Y/n and Lou's relationship. Florence wanted to know how they met, when they got married, how long they had been together, and what their future plans together were. Y/n let Lou answer the last question by herself because she genuinely didn't know what their future plans were. Lou usually wakes up and decides what major life change they're going to undertake, that's what happened when he decided to move to Brewer Heights.

When the topic of work came up, Y/n thought the coast was clear. Lou talked extensively about the work he does with his father and what his plan is for the next five years regarding the business.

"Once my father retires I'll have to hire someone to do his job. I didn’t go study in school after high school so I can't take over his position, even though it would make things easier."

"I'm sure you can find someone. I know it's rare for someone to leave the city and come to this little town, but Brewer Heights is always a nice incentive!"

"It is nice here," Lou agrees, "and it's quiet. We were in Meade before which is okay-"

"But, it's nothing like Brewer Heights," Florence interjects. "So, Y/n, what did you do before meeting Lou?"

Lee had not looked her way since the plate-fixing incident but his eyes were sure on her now. If his mouth wasn't stuffed with food he'd be grinning from ear to ear waiting for her answer. He knows she's not a good liar, but she's going to have to come up with something.

"I helped my mom with her business. She used to sell fruit preserves out of the house before she passed."

It wasn't a complete lie. She did help her mother label her jars, but that became less frequent when her hours picked up at Tecumseh. Her parents didn't know about her job either; she told them she was a waitress and it was a safe lie seeing as they didn't go out to diners.

"I'm sorry for your loss, I'm sure she was a lovely woman if she raised such a lovely daughter! Have you ever thought of continuing her business?"

"Not really. It was pretty small. I still make the preserves sometimes for Lou and I."

"If you wouldn't mind, would you be interested in making some for us one day? You don't have to if you don't want to, but it's just so hard to find any good fruit preserves around town." Florence's social habits were very transparent once you were around her for long; she tends to make it impossible for people to say no to her by making them feel bad about even possibly saying no.

"I'd love to Florence. I have fresh peaches at home and I can make peach preserves."

"Oh I'd love that so much," she fawns, "a jar for me and a jar for Lee! He loves his sweets."

"I'm not too big on peaches, Flo. You know I like cherries more."

"You always have," she leans into him and pats him on the chest before straightening up again.

The audacity of Lee is astounding, however not only is he a cop, he's the sheriff. It's such a cowardly move to pick at Y/n when she can't react, but what someone would call cowardly, he'd call fun. She looks like she wants to disappear from her spot and it scratches an itch for him. He missed seeing her get flustered and if he'd known that it would be much more enjoyable to taunt her while his wife was around, he would have found a reason a long time ago to bring her around.

And as if the night couldn't be more humiliating for her, Lou finished his plate before anyone else. He devoured the food on his plate, like a starved man. Y/n felt embarrassed when her husband went for seconds. He never eats this much at home, even when she makes his favorite meals. It makes her want to reach across the dinner table and smack Florence in the face. She hates her; she hates that she has to smile in her face and be friends with her. It's her own fault for continuing this "friendship" with Florence, but her rage makes her blind to her own faults.

She could ruin Florence's life with one sentence: "I've been fucking your husband for years." She'd cause a scene but it would be so gratifying.

Instead she just shuts her mouth and lets dinner continue without anymore incidents.

-

Y/n thought it would show she was grateful for dinner if she helped Florence with the dishes. She was glad to accept Y/n's help and the two spent their time in the kitchen while Lee and Lou sat on the back porch. With Lee's influence, Lou took another drink out back with him. Y/n wondered what they had to talk about, but she would truly not like to know.

"Your wife cooks like that every night, sheriff?"

"Enough with the title. And she cooks every night, but she went a little overboard since she was happy with having guests," he tells him. If it was anybody else, Lee would just answer the questions and not have any for himself. However, he really wants to know what Y/n has been up to since she's adopted this new image. "How about Y/n? Does she cook for you like that?"

"Not at all. She tries, but she's not the good of a cook," he brings the alcohol up to his lips before pulling away and sighing, "she tries but it's just not her best."

"Her mother didn't teach her how to cook?"

"I don't know much about her family. Her mother was dead when I met her and her father doesn't seem to be doing so well. They're from the same area as my folks but moved when they had Y/n. Maybe she was just too spoiled considering she's an only child."

Y/n's past was a mystery to Lee too, but he's surprised to learn she hasn't opened up to her husband. All he knows is that whether it was her home life or not, something had messed her up and it was almost made worse by her time at Tecumseh. He isn't sure how she made it out, but so much of her old life still bleeds through.

"You know I thought I was getting a good girl. One that would clean and have dinner ready when I get home," Lou continued.

Lee wanted to laugh in his face. Lou is proof that you can come from a smart family and still be dumb as rocks. How could he not know what type of girl Y/n was when he first laid eyes on her? She'd dress just like his sister Sandy; shorts that suffered from mistreatment over the years and a sleeveless blouse that was always stained. He's sure her hair was mussed up that day too. Many people would mistake her for a whore (which many people did see her as one even though she didn't outright sell her body to anyone).

"It can't be that bad," Lee tried to vouch for his former lover. Even he can name some good qualities about her; they just don't include any wifely qualities.

"It's not, but things could be better. Anytime I tell her to shape-up she gets this timid look on her face and flinches a little bit. I try to be nice and gentle but I'm losing my patience with her. I’m not looking to leave her, but what’s the point of marrying a woman who can’t do anything? She won’t even talk to me about having kids — was Florence ever like this?”

“No. Her family is from here so she’s been primed to be a housewife. But I will say it’s not all that fun havin’ a doting wife…she’s overbearing at times and I can never unwind with her around. She’s always on my ass about somethin’.”

Lee felt the need to vouch for Y/n. Anytime he would go to Tecumseh, she would accompany out back or get into his cruiser whenever he told her to. All the gritty things he dealt with at work, everything he kept inside, he dumped it on her. Florence would never sit there to listen to his grievances. Lee would never admit it, but he was vulnerable around Y/n, he knew that she would always be there to listen and he attached himself to that. In the beginning she wasn’t willingly listening to his problems but by the end she was. She took care of him when he was too drunk to go home, or she would let him take his stress and frustration out on her body. However, it doesn’t seem as if Lou is budging; his mind is made up.

“I work long hours. My father is putting more responsibilities on me. I put Y/n in that nice home, the least she could do is not serve me burnt food. Hangin’ around Florence and that Susie woman should have at least influenced her or something,” he continued to complain.

Florence was the last person that would be able to influence a girl like Y/n. Lee didn't know why his wife was seemingly grooming that girl. If anything it was just another person for her to control since Lee started telling her to knock it off. The only time she can get away with controlling her husband is if they're in the company of others where Lee has to be on his best behavior.

Y/n is not the type to be influenced by another woman. The only woman she held in high regard was her mother. Y/n listens to male authority. She listens to a man that will rough her up a little bit but then be sweet on her afterwards. She’s a little fucked up and jaded from her former “profession.” Lee knows this, but not Lou. He seems to know nothing of her past and Lee isn’t going to snitch on her.

“I can talk to Florence and see if she can do something. I know she likes taking people under her wing and shit. She seems to really like Y/n too.”

“I’d greatly appreciate that Lee. I know I sound like I’m hard on her, but I do love her. It’s hard for me to show when she just doesn’t put any effort in.”

"Don't worry. I'll talk to Florence — I'll make everything right."

[shirophantomvox]

Cheer up, buttercup Secret Santa with the Adult Trio

Hello, anon! Thank you for this interesting request! I’m going to format this as a bullet point story post instead of a story because I cannot plan a story at the moment. If I think of one, I will re-tag you if you’d like you @ to be revealed. If I get the requests by the end of the month, I’ll open a new window in 2022! I hope you like this post.

Taking part in Secret Santa with the Adult Trio

On a snowy December night, The Adult Trio, who had somehow been roommates for 4 years, invited you and a few of your friends over for “Christmas Fun”. You clarified you were only going to take part in wine tasting, cheese and crackers, and exchanging gifts. For your friends…. they were looking for OTHER fun.

The interior design of their apartment was nice. The room had a mixture of gothic-styled curtains and wallpaper while still having a touch of Christmas cheer that welcomed everyone.

The three gentlemen had on ugly Christmas sweaters and even though they were UGLY, their sculpted bodies made it work flawlessly.

Each of them scooped up each of you and guided you all to the dining room.

Everyone screamed as they marveled at the delicious dishes before them. The men cooked everything in between from vegetarian to meat. They were not sure if you all had dietary concerns, so they made a variety of dishes.

They hoisted tender lamb on a plate. Chrollo bragged the most about how happy he was on the turnout of his lamb. The fat added much flavor besides the dressing put on the green beans he’d placed in the oven.

Cheese and crackers sat on a glossy red plate next to the mini hotdogs and dipping sauce.

Your friends were so concerned about getting their fill that they almost forgot about their company! Still, the guys let it go for a while. They could clearly see how happy you all were.

For 1 hour, they ate, drank, laughed at goofy things, and sang Christmas Songs. One of your friends suggested going caroling, but that idea was shot down immediately.

“I’m wildly hated around here,” Chrollo said, wide-eyed, smiling. I rather not ruin a special holiday for the children.”

Everyone was chatting amongst themselves. You were quietly sitting in the corner with your phone, scrolling through Twitter. You have hung around these men before, but the feeling is much different when others are involved.

Slowly becoming engrossed in your very political timeline, you felt a shadow being cast over your face and body. As you gazed up slowly, none other than that, the oldest Zoldyck son was staring down at you.

Each man expressed their appreciation for their friends in different ways, but Illumi expresses it in what others would call odd and unusual.

Instead of sitting by you, he lifted your chin to meet his deep black pupils.

“Why are you so quiet?” he asks monotonically.

“I don’t know. I’m just tired.”

He chuckles heartily for the first time. “How? You act as if we are strangers.”

“I know but….”

You pause for a moment and look at your friends. Both of them were using whip cream to make beards on Hisoka and Chrollo. They giggled and squealed so loud, while the guys chuckled. They put more cream on their noses and placed a cherry on it to represent Santa’s “cherry red nose”.

Illumi returned his gaze to you and noticed how your mood differed significantly from theirs. They were thrilled, as were you, just differently? Then again, they were a little tipsy, so their exaggerated laughter became annoying.

“Are you annoyed that you aren’t the center of attention like how you used to be?”

You scrunch your face in irritation! How dare he insinuate such a stupid assumption! You stood to your feet, hands balled, and arms straight.

“Absolutely not! How dare you!”

“Are you sure?” he says in a non-convinced tone. He wagged his finger and click his teeth. “God doesn’t like ugly!”

“What do you mean? I’m not jealous!”

“Really? Are you sure? It looks like you're going to blow your gasket if you don’t get the chance to put whipped cream beards on Hisoka.”

“Oh, I hate you,” you whisper under your breath.

Before you could sit down, Illumi wrapped his long arms around your body and hugged you tight. As emotionally unavailable as he seemed and was the majority of the time, Christmas softens his heart. Unless he has to go on an assassin mission.

Truth be told, you loved your friends, but sometimes it is disheartening to be referred to as the “ugly duckling” of the group. Although your friends have always tried to cheer you up, you were convinced you died alone.

For a thin man, the warmth radiating from his body took effect on your body warmth!

The silk feeling of his raven hair ticked your forehead and cheek, causing you to smile.

“Stop feeling sorry for yourself. If it makes you feel any better, I’ll spend eternity just gazing into your eyes. Killua thinks you're a catch and if my younger brother thinks so, you must be the real deal.”

His lips grazed over your forehead gently. It wasn’t a kiss, but more of a soft peck to know that he cares. He doesn’t like PDA.

For another hour, all of you enjoy the last round of wine and prepare for the biggest event of the night.

At 11PM that night, they snuggled each one of you. Secret Santa was more entertaining than you expected!

Hisoka was too drunk to put his words together. All he could say was “m-merry chris---” and fell asleep.

Hisoka bought your first friend two popular and expensive perfume collections. One was Flower Bomb, and the other was a version of Dior.

Chrollo brought in his gift wrapped in golden wrapping paper. Wow. Such a show-off. Your second friend nearly jumped through the roof when they saw their gift. It was a brand new Canon T7i camera with two interchangeable lenses. They wanted to be a Youtuber but never had the right equipment until now. They kissed him full on the lips and both of his cheeks were full of red lipstick.

When it was your turn, Illumi slowly stood up and walked towards the front door. He drug in a large Amazon box with a Microsoft logo on it.

As he opened the box, he struggled to hold it in his hand.

“Merry Christmas,” he said and sat down.

As you opened the box, your face nearly fell to the ground. No words could describe how you felt. Instead of a luxurious computer being in this box, it was full of coal!

“What kind of sick joke is this?! How could you, you bastar---”

“Ah, ah ah,” he said, wagging his finger in my face again. I’d watch it if I were you.”

“Oh, yeah? And why so?”

“Turn around and you’ll see.”

You do so and when you saw the gem, the ULTIMATE gem, stood before you, you nearly fainted!

Sitting on his desk in the living room was the most updated version of Alienware. They made this CPU for gaming and provided 4K resolution for just about anything!

This is how you reacted.

Turning it on and seeing its LED lights made you feel wonderful!

Before Illumi could explain its functions, you ran towards him, jumped, and knocked him down flat on his back. You were now on top of him. His eyes were wide, mouth opened so wide bats could fly in. Before you could figure out why he was surprised, you felt something warm sticking your stomach.

Yes, that’s right. Your excitement rubbed off on him! As you jump off him, you plop yourself back on the couch, whistling like nothing ever happened.

“I hope you’re happy,” he says, shielding his eyes.

Chrollo is chuckling away while Hisoka is snoring away.

Just as you all were apart, the national guard informed you all that you may not leave the house until tomorrow afternoon. When questioned, they said the road was too dangerous, full of ice, and too many accidents have occurred.

And so, each of you went your separate ways in the Christmas gothic house, leaving your gifts downstairs.

[plus-size-reader]

Sneaking Around

Columbus Ohio x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 2344 words

Warnings: none

Summary: Tallahassee finding out that you, his daughter, and Columbus have been seeing each other in secret

—————————————————————————————————

It was a bad idea.

All things considered, there was nothing worse that you could have done. You both knew it, but at the same time, you couldn’t help yourselves.

Once Tallahassee found out about this whole thing, he was going to lose his mind. However, as much as you loved and respected him as your father, you weren’t blind to the fact that he wasn’t always right.

Where Columbus was concerned, for example, he couldn’t have been more wrong.

Florida acted like there was something wrong with him, even though the younger male was arguably your father’s greatest friend in the world. It was where you were concerned that the whole thing fell apart.

Columbus wasn’t good enough for you.

The idea of the two of you together, in any way, made him want to throw up and Tallahassee wasn’t exactly secretive about that. It was his one rule, the one thing he’d forbidden you from doing.

You weren’t allowed to date him.

So, naturally, that was exactly what you were doing.

It was inevitable.

The two of you were around the same age, going through something that only you were going through, and as if you didn’t already know, the apocalypse was lonely.

It wasn’t like the dating pool was vast and diverse.

Besides, you didn’t see anything wrong with it. Just because Tallahassee was your father didn’t mean he got to decide everything you did for the rest of your life.

There was a difference between keeping you safe and running your life. All you asked was that he learned the difference and respected it.

The two of you had grown up together seeing as Tallahassee had you pretty young, and your mom gave up custody of you almost immediately. In that way, you knew you were closer than the typical father-daughter would be.

...but controlling who you could and couldn’t date in your early twenties was a bit of a stretch.

You liked Columbus, and at this point, you weren’t even sure if you’d be able to stay away from him if you tried. The only other option then, if you didn’t want to be lectured into eternity, was keeping your relationship a secret.

It wasn’t ideal, and you weren’t happy about lying to him, but sometimes you had to do what had to be done.

What Florida didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

Right?

Wrong.

Sneaking around was bound to get old at some point, and the longer you kept it up, the more you ran the risk of getting caught, which just couldn’t happen.

You would never, ever, live that down.

Though, one of you wasn’t nearly as worried about getting caught as the other. In fact, Columbus was having a really good time keeping secrets from Tallahassee and sneaking around behind his back.

He was getting a kick out of it.

The older man had been busting his balls since they met and knowing that he had such a huge secret that Florida knew nothing about was some pretty sweet irony for him.

Of course, it didn’t hurt that he was head over heels in love with you.

From the start, Ohio had been in a desperate search for love and as soon as he met you, he knew you would be the one. There was just something about you, and he couldn’t imagine anyone else changing his life like you had.

You were strong and determined, without the uncontrollable anger and sass that Tallahassee had. It was as if you mixed together all the good qualities in the man with the genes of your mother, who he could only imagine was an angel.

That was the only way he could imagine Tallahassee having a kid like you.

It didn’t make any sense otherwise.

“Come here, look at this” You gushed, grabbing Columbus by the arm in a desperate attempt to get him to pay attention to what it was you were seeing.

After what had happened at Graceland, you had very little hope for the Hound Dog Hotel but it wasn’t shaping up to be too bad a time. All things considered, there was some pretty cool stuff here.

...and you weren’t the only one who thought so.

You hadn’t seen your dad since you walked through the doors and you were sure he was sneaking around here somewhere, snatching memorabilia from the shelves and singing at the top of his lungs.

At the very least, this place would put him in a better mood than he’d been in lately.

“Are you seeing this? These are Elvis’ actual shoes” you gasped, gesturing wildly to them as you fangirled. You had been raised on Tallahassee’s love of the King, and harbored quite the obsession yourself.

Being here was putting you in a really good mood.

Columbus grinned, watching you stare in awe at the blue suede, taking in every little detail of them as if you had never seen anything better before now.

It was sweet.

There was something sweet about it, something innocent that he hadn’t seen in you in a really long time. It was a real joy, without the worry or concern that came with living in a world like this one.

“I see” he hummed, not even bothering to hide the amusement in his tone as he talked to you.

A pair of shoes seemed a little silly as far as things to get this excited about were but he was just glad you were so happy. If you were happy, he was happy.

That was how this whole thing worked.

“And isn’t that amazing?” you continued, hoping that you could prompt a similar amusement from him but nothing came, not in the way you were looking for anyway.

More than anything, he just enjoyed being here with you.

The two of you didn’t get a lot of chances to be alone without the intrusion of someone else, whether that be Wichita, Little Rock, or worst of all, Tallahassee.

Just being together was all he could have ever wanted, but there was one other thing that would have surely gotten the reaction from you that he wanted so badly.

Without so much as a second thought, Ohio snatched the blue suede shoes from the pedestal they were on and slipped them on to his feet. It wasn’t a sure thing at first, but he quickly realized they were a perfect fit.

What were the odds of that?

“What do you think?” he grinned, doing his best to be suave in them, though it didn’t really work that way because he was too lanky and awkward. Instead, he sort of resembled a newborn calf learning to walk.

Thankfully, he was so endearing and adorable that you couldn't help but laugh.

“They’re very sexy” you teased, closing the space between you with a smirk on your face, doing your best to keep the giggled bubbling up in your throat at bay as you draped your arm over his shoulder.

“Oh yeah, you think?”

Columbus’ voice came in the same teasing tone as your own, his eyebrows wiggling as he looked at you, jaw tight to hold in his own laughter.

This was just too much for you both.

“Absolutely” you smiled, leaning forward just enough to capture his lips with your own as the best way to punctuate your point. They weren’t really all that sexy so much as you just liked him, but he wasn’t about to split hairs over it.

He was just glad to be kissing you, in all honesty.

However, the moment was over as quickly as it started because from somewhere behind you, someone else had entered the room and wasn’t about to leave you to it.

After all, Tallahassee was just doing his best to keep his head from exploding as he took in the sight of you, his daughter, in a heated make out with his most pathetic acquaintance.

It wasn’t happening.

He was sure it wasn’t.

The more viable conclusion was that he’d fallen somewhere and given himself a concussion, inducing hallucinations, or maybe he was dead. Anything would be easier to accept than what he was looking at.

“Oh fuck no”

Those three words were practically inaudible at first, but that too was short lived because once he’d realized that what he was seeing was really happening, that was when the yelling started.

...and once he started, it was hard to get him to stop.

In fact, by the time you’d turned around, fully separating from Columbus, your father was already red in the face.

Evidently, today was the day.

You were never going to hear the end of this.

“HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN HIDING THIS FROM ME? I MEAN, ANYONE WOULD HAVE BEEN BETTER THAN HIM? WHAT HAPPENED TO MY RULES? THAT WAS THE ONE THING I ASKED-”

There was no good way for this to end, which you and Columbus both knew. Even as you looked at him, eyes wide, Tallahassee kept going. He couldn’t imagine how this had happened right under his nose.

As far as he knew, the two of you didn’t even get along but clearly that wasn’t the case. He wasn’t born yesterday, and he knew what kissing like that meant.

That wasn’t a passing smooch or a casual make out out of boredom. This was something the two of you had been maintaining for quite some time, and that was the worst part of it all.

You had been lying to him.

“Buddy, calm down. It’s not that big of a deal” Columbus tried, practically shouting into the void with his suggestion. Though, as soon as he spoke, Florida stopped his rant in its tracks.

Which wasn’t a good sign.

“Oh no, not gonna happen buddy” he spit back, momentarily making you glad he’d left his gun in the van. If he had it right now, there was no telling what would happen.

Tallahassee was angry, in general, but this was something different. For him, this was more of a betrayal than something that would make him angry, which made it so much worse.

He just couldn’t believe this was happening.

All you knew was that someone had to do something before this escalated much more and ruined the entire thing you all had going on. You were a family, but if you didn’t step in, there wouldn’t be anything left.

Clearly, Columbus wasn’t the one to fix this whole thing.

“Okay, can we just talk about this like adults please? I’m a grown up, remember?” you hummed, intentionally keeping your voice calm to keep this from escalating that much more.

Over everything else, you were sure he was more upset with you. At its core, this issue was about you growing up and doing something you shouldn't have done.

It had very little to do with Columbus himself.

If it had been anyone else, Florida would have been just as upset.

“Oh, you’re a grown up, well then, what am I even doing here?” he grumbled, completely ignoring the male at your side now, his focus completely on your face.

Objectively, he knew you were right. Even with as much as the world around you had changed, you had too. You weren’t a little girl anymore, clinging onto his pant leg and crying every time he left your side.

You were a grown woman, which was hard enough for a father to grasp, but this was something else entirely.

You weren’t allowed to be with him.

You just weren’t.

“That’s not what I meant. I just don’t get why it's such a big deal” you huffed, shoving your hands into the pockets of your jeans, where you could hide the anxious tapping you got up to.

All you were doing was seeing someone who you really liked and while having your literal father walk in on an impromptu make out wasn’t ideal, it also shouldn’t have been the end of the world.

He used to date plenty, before most of the population died out.

“Because it is. I told you not to do it, and you did” Tallahassee grumbled, crossing his arms, his words leaving his lips in a traditional dad fashion.

That was always his go to thing, even when you were a kid.

You can’t do that because I told you not to.

It might have worked out well when you were six years old and trying to tie your opposing shoelaces together but not anymore.

Now, the world was literally crumbling around you and you all faced death on a daily basis. If the worst thing you got up to was falling in love with a man who carried a tiny purell in his pocket, you didn’t get why that was such a problem.

Out of all the men you could have chosen, even before the end of the world, Columbus was by far the best.

He was sweet, smart, and cared about you more than anyone ever had in your life. By all accounts, you were lucky and while you felt bad for lying to Tallahassee about being with him, you wouldn’t have done anything differently.

Being with him was important to you, and you loved him.

Nothing was going to change that.

“I love him, okay? That’s why I didn’t want to tell you, because I knew this was how you would react” you sighed, finding it almost impossible to not just give up completely.

You knew that no matter what you said, it wouldn’t make a difference. Once Tallahassee had made up his mind, there was nothing you could do to change it.

As much as you would have liked for him to be supportive of your relationship, you weren’t going to stop seeing the man you loved just to appease him.

It just wasn’t going to happen.

It would seem that if there was any time for you to act like your father and take on his stubborn nature, it was now. You just weren’t ready to lose Columbus.

Not now, and not ever.

[blouisparadise]

Upon request, here is a rec list of bottom Louis fics where Louis cries during sex. If you enjoy our rec lists, please take the time to like this post and especially to reblog it to help spread the word. Happy reading!

1) I Could Be Your China Doll | Explicit | 2138 words

"This is my punishment for you, my slut." Harry kisses Louis' inner thighs and Louis shivers at his boyfriend's touch. Harry moves out of the bed again but Louis can hear shuffling and he knows that Harry is getting something not so good. The noise stops as the footsteps of the older guy suddenly become too loud for his ears.

2) Lips Are Like The Galaxy’s Edge | Mature | 2360 words

Harry licks over Louis’ hole slowly, deliberately, and his tongue is like velvet and Louis’ skin is burning at every junction where Harry touches him and it’s all so good he thinks he might cry. He licks a few more times, moaning softly like he’s relishing the taste of Louis and that’s just, well, fuck.

3) Louder Louder | Explicit | 2931 words

There's really only one way to get Louis out of a mood this terrible, and Harry is prepared to sacrifice his entire evening if necessary.

4) Heaven In These Sheets | Explicit | 3557 words

Bunny Hybrid Louis has it out for his boyfriend’s phone.

5) As Clean As A Sinner Can Be | Not Rated | 3394 words

If you asked Harry, he would tell you it’s not his fault they were in this predicament. It’s not his fault that his hair is getting too long (it is, he’s too lazy and too stubborn to let Lou cut it). It’s not his fault that because said hair is too long he had to find some way of keeping it out of his eyes (gelling it back wasn’t his style and snapbacks more times than not bugged him). It’s not his fault that Zayn had ripped his shirt sleeve off of his favourite button down shirt and he couldn’t part with it (plus he had far too much time on his hands in between shows) so he fashioned a headband, or as others would call it a head scarf, and found that it really helped keep the hair out of his eyes. Nor is he at fault for the fact that he looked like a sex god every time he wore the damn thing and really it was all his fault at how turned on it made Louis.

6) When I Hear Your Cries, Praying For Life. (I Will Be There) | Explicit | 5623 words

Well, I figured we needed Larry birthday sex, soooo.....

7) Singing Your Praises | Explicit | 6226 words

Prompt 86: Louis rides Harry while wearing his packer’s jersey/sweater and gets his ass ate.

8) Sugar, With Just The Right Amount Of Spice. | Explicit | 6314 words

Harry’s old fashioned when it comes to sex, he loves being face to face with his partner, watching their reactions to everything Harry gives them. He never does anything else then fuck in missionary position. Louis loves his sex life with Harry - but he’s getting a bit bored with doing the same position, all he really wants is for Harry to be rough with him, take control and dominate him for once.

9) Give It Up To Me | Explicit | 8134 words

"You're going to end up making me come with all the boys in our lounge," he finished, his tone softening the longer he spoke.

"And?" Harry murmured, placing his palm over the crevice of Louis' arse, keeping the plug nice and tight inside of him. "What if I wanted you to?"

10) Making A Splash | Explicit | 9557 words

“You want this?” Harry muses, fisting his cock as he drags his hand lazily up his thick length. Louis eyes the motion and nods his head absentmindedly. “You want to show everyone at this beach how much of a slut you are for Daddy’s cock?”

“M‘your slut,” Louis immediately replies, inching closer, inching closer with his eyes glued on Harry’s glistening cock, precome shining under the sun as it dribbles out his slit.

Harry grins widely and stops the movement of his hand to grip himself at the base again, pushing Louis’ head down. “Show everyone how much of a slut you are.”

11) Place Your Head On My Beating Heart | Explicit | 10860 words

The AU where porn sensation Harry Styles takes his newbie to his place and gets him to come untouched twice before even fingering him and they may or may not fall in love at some point between second and third orgasms.

12) Know You Got That Thing (That I Like) | Explicit | 15798 words

In all the ways he thought about their reunion going, watching Louis finger himself open was not on the list.

13) Baby, Let Me Love You Goodbye | Explicit | 20249 words

Louis almost calls Harry daddy. Cue denial, feelings, and way too much dirty talk.

14) Middle Ground | Explicit | 23561 words

Note: This fic is locked and can only be read by AO3 users.

Harry moves to a new town for work where he meets the enigma that is Louis Tomlinson.

15) Give So Much (Not Enough) | Explicit | 24610 words

“For my little lion,” Louis slid the smoothie bowl in front of Oscar, letting him dig in with his little hands. “And for daddy.”

He didn’t process the bowl in front of him, the push across the table causing a raspberry to roll off and fall on his lap, because Louis calling himself mummy may make him feel all sorts of mushy emotions, but Louis addressing Harry as daddy was suddenly having a very different effect on him. Since when did Louis saying daddy out loud render him speechless?

“Daddy’s still sleepy, but we’re up bright and early right Ossie?” Louis’ cooing shook him out of his daze. The man coughed, picking the raspberry off his lap and swallowing it with unintentional, and very unnecessary, eye contact with Louis. “Well, is it better than your protein smoothies and why?”

 Harry chuckled, spooning another heap of the strawberry banana goodness into his mouth, “Way better sweetheart.”

16) Put In Them Hours | Explicit | 25009 words

Note: This fic is locked and can only be read by AO3 users.

AU where Louis makes the poor decision of hiring an unfairly attractive assistant. Inspired by Rachel and Tag from Friends.

17) Honey, Make This Easy | Explicit | 25483 words

Note: This fic is locked and can only be read by AO3 users.

AU; Harry’s sister recently passed away, leaving him with temporary custody of her daughter. Needing help, he hires Louis as a nanny and the boy turns out to be help in more ways than he expected.

18) What's Mine Is Yours To Make Your Own | Explicit | 39919 words | Sequel

Sometimes, the closest Harry ever feels to home is Louis. It's their shared hotel rooms on tour, their shoes toed off in the doorway next to each other, jackets hung on the same post.

19) Worth Dying For | Explicit | 44906 words

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Louis says, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest. In the center of the table, a set of three glossy photos stares up at him, mocking him.

“A security detail is non-negotiable, Louis, you know this,” his mum reminds him, tapping the middle photo with two fingers.

Louis doesn’t look back down at the pictures, gesturing towards them wildly, over-dramatically. “This is not a security detail!” he protests. “This is a lanky college student. In what world do you hire someone like this kid to protect me?”

20) No Easy Choice, But You’re Mine | Explicit | 45601 words

Louis is an omega hitman with one last job that goes a little sideways. Harry is the alpha bartender that looks a little too closely and cares a little too much.

21) Sedative Duty. | Explicit | 46588 words

Pop-star of the moment Louis Tomlinson is on his third-world tour. He decides to hire renowned professional dominant Harry Styles to unwind while on the road. In an effort not to raise suspicion by the crew, fans, and press,  Harry pretends to be his bodyguard. He ends up being far more than that.It's everything he doesn't notice until it's been taken away from him.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

[sugar-petals]

boyfriend bot (m)

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

↳ PAIRING ⇁ baekyhun x reader

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

↳ WORDS ⇁ 29k

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

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

Chapter 1: The Capsule

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You spend too much time inside.

But who these days trains for a marathon like this.

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

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

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

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

„Four years. Quite a long time.“

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mr. Kim cocks his head a little.

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

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

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

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

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

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

It really is a rocket science place.

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

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

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

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

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

„Really?“

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

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

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

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

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

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

„What type of questions?“

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

„Right.“

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

Baekhyun.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

„Hm, I see?“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chapter 2: Enamel

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

„That I can uh provide! I mean sure!“

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

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

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

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

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

„Enamel?“

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

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

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

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

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

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

If not absolutely staggering. Your whole body feels tingly.

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

You have no idea what Baekhyun will do now.

Chapter 3: He Treats You So Right

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

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

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

„Y—yes, I… I want to.“

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

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

But Mr. Kim is stoic.

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

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

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

Neediness?

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

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

„He can?“

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

Now that sounded like conviction indeed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

„Her foot?“

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

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

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

But instead, he looks courteous as ever.

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

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

„Sounds convenient.“

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

The scientists have really tested for everything.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Baekhyun looks quite amused, actually.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’re perplexed — because Baekhyun shakes his head.

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

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

>>> AndroTech Leisure Bots Inc <<<

  Moscow | New York | Seoul

Beneath it, a corresponding slogan in red print.

He treats you so right.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Until it happens.

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

„Eh!“

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

Chapter 4: Pink Clouds

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

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

Mr. Lee he doesn’t even notice.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You feel the embarrassment on your face saying that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

„Wow, okay—!“

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

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

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

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

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

He looks cute like that.

And why not.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

„Yes, feedback is very important.“

„Mh, yeah.“

„I wanted to ask something related, actually.“

„Go ahead.“

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

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

You feel your chest tighten.

Oh.

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

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

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

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

He sounds confident.

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

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

You sigh.

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

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

„Mister Lee. He lives next to us.“

„I see. What happened with him?“

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’re taken aback.

„Why would they?“

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

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

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

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

„You think something went wrong?“

„It can happen.“

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

Baekhyun cocks his head into a smile.

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

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

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

You avoid his eyes. Again.

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

„I dunno. Aren’t most bots sentient?“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Now it makes sense. You give a sharp nod.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

„Right.“

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

„Maybe I will feel something one day.“

„I am convinced it could happen.“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

„Yeah. We crave happiness.“

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

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

„I wish you could feel it.“

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

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

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

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

Baekhyun nods.

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

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

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

„Yes. But it’s not ‚about things‘.“

„Oh?“

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

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

„The regular conversation thing, right.“

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

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

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

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

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

The word strikes a chord.

Special.

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

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

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

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

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

„Remind me often, then. What is it?“

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

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

„Touch…—“

„If this is okay for you?“

Almost instantly— You flush. And nod.

„Your skin is unbelievable.“

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

„Yes.“

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

What you see shortens your breath.

You’ve got to be kidding me.

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

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

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

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

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

„That’s how it works, then…“

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

You suck in air. Wow.

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

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

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

Now, he seems surprised.

„Nobody has asked me this before.“

„Really?“

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe he knows you better than you do.

„Okay.“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

„Really? It surely isn’t.“

„Scientifically and physically speaking—“

„Okay, okay, I believe you.“

„I wish I could eat pink clouds myself.“

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

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

„Yes exactly, and it’s really sweet.“

„What does sweet taste like?“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

„It’s so large!“

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

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

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

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

„Really?“

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

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

„M-hm.“

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

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

„Is there something that has preoccupied you?“

„Pardon?“

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

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

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

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

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

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

„Ah, that’s what it was.“

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

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

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

„They do?“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’re cocking up a brow.

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

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

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

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

„That, and— I get to see you.“

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

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

„I, yes.“

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

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

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

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

Baekhyun’s head sinks. The eye contact breaks.

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

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

„I never thought of it this way.“

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

„I was doubtful it could be true.“

„But it is, Baekhyun.“

„I still can’t try pink clouds…“

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

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

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

Or maybe— it is an invitation.

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

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

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

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

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

Now you want more.

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

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

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

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

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

„If that’s what it tastes like…“

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

Chapter 5: Are You The Machine?

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

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

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

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

„Okay, are you ready?“

His tone is relaxing.

„Yes.“

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

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

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

„Is, is that good?“

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

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

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

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

„If I could do all the work…“

„Oh—“

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

„No no, I get it.“

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

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

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

Baekhyun ends with a serious look.

You remember the phrase of Mr. Kim.

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

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

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

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

He gives a clean nod. You got the point.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your hands unclamp. At least a little.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

„Still can’t believe it.“

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

Very well. You gather yourself already.

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

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

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

„The  Special Request .“

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

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

Unlike yours, Baekhyun’s face is completely relaxed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

„…I’ll be getting a towel.“

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

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

And you did the same mistake again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

„Come pick me up. Settle me on this.“

That’s more like it.

„All as you wish.“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

„So this is part of the testing?“

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

„Yeah. You’re really strong…“

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

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

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

„So, you can adapt to me, right?“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

„Please take off my clothes.“

Chapter 6: Candy Apples

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nod.

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

At least when the situation requires it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

„Once or more?“

„Do it more. Do it as if you were fucking me.“

The hem of your panties gets pulled down briefly with every tug that results from Baekhyun dipping his two fingers forward. By not even half an inch, but you can feel it. The fabric dents inward where he stiffens his fingers and lets them sink into your pussy shallow, as much as the cotton allows.

In the meantime, the upper part of his left hand is preoccupied flat against your clit, making it swell up by giving a rhythmic pulse with a surprising consistency. You grit your teeth. His expression is as concentrated and adoring as always.

You realize that obviously — Baekhyun doesn’t have a dominant hand. Why would he. Left, right, they’re both able to do the exact same thing with the exact same agility and intensity. Or completely different things without influencing each other.

With the many possible scenarios popping up in your mind by knowing that, your legs open by themselves. Baekhyun keeps on patting your clit, but going much slower to drag out the arousal. He’s taking off some pressure, but softly continues.

Meanwhile, his right hand, still pointed right at your core, pokes through your panties swift enough to deepen their reach. Your pussy is all sticky against the cotton, with the blotch of the fabric getting large enough to seep down toward your ass. Before, the wetness had been thin and trickling, but now grows much more viscous and lubricating.

The resulting slick noises are making you feel more turned on than embarrassed. Baekhyun has somehow managed to make it sound more sexy than you thought it could be.

His eager, lowered brows moving along in the smallest arches with every dip only contribute to your legs drifting further apart. Although he is still kneeling as before, he’s hunching forward now. His eyes are stuck on you like magnets. Baekhyun is mesmerized. Either of your inner thighs can feel his breath. Your left thigh even gets a little tickle by his hair strands, right where you are sensitive.

„Baekhyun, ah shit—!”

It’s so hard to hold it together. With an erratic buck out of nowhere, your hips skew Baekhyun’s aim to the upward right. His fingers end up pressing right into your outer labia with the same momentum he just used on your entrance.

You gasp out. Before he can even apologize, you secure his hand right in the spot with your own.

How fast your reflex was rips Baekhyun’s eyes from your pussy and gives you a spike in adrenaline. His surprised face makes you strangely horny.

„No no, go on,“ you bring his fingers right into place. „Squeeze my lips. Please make them really swollen. I want them as red as the candy apples you saw at the fair. Make them so you’ll want to have a big juicy bite.“

„Oh, you can bet.“

The usually so light and sweet smile that Baekhyun carries so often becomes a lot darker, sexier now. His eyes are like two pieces of coal from underneath his bangs. There’s no doubt in his tone. He will execute everything you say to the last drop.

You can already tell what you got yourself into. Ambition is something that you can leave to him. You gave him enough food to chew and devour. Suddenly, Baekhyun’s pussy crazy face is something you want to provoke even more.

„Show me how much you love them. Don’t hold back.“

„I won’t.“

„Make it really filthy for me. Do it like worship.“

„Time for some lip service.“

Baekhyun’s left hand wanders down from your clit. Together with his right hand, it digs into the fabric of your panties to get hold of your labia. One between his thumb and index each, he gives a juicy squeeze to test them, gathering them up in their full fleshiness.

They’re too wet for Baekhyun to have enough grip on them if he just pinches them from either side. He has to use three fingers at once and even succeeds in pulling them forward just enough to have your clit enclosed behind them.

The crotch area of your panties is not wide enough to cover your lips like that. With Baekhyun massaging their inner edge with both of his thumbs, you soon have to deal with the soaked fabric no longer veiling the entire area. The craving in your voice almost takes you aback.

„Shove it to the middle, now. Let me feel your hands. Skin to skin. Do it.“

Baekhyun instantly complies. He centers and lines your panties across your clit that gets a bulky, rubbing coverage that way, all while exposing your bare lips on either side. The fabric stretches across your pussy almost like a thong. The unspoken wow on Baekhyun’s lips does not escape your attention. Nor does the way his tongue darts out. The way he brings his hands on your labia makes your body jerk and wind, twisting the towel underneath your back. His face is so much closer, both the warmth of his breath and the heat of the friction of his fingers makes your arousal pool into even more wetness.

„We’ll change this up,“ you say, catching Baekhyun fully alert.

„Tell me.“

You’re sweating. The idea that comes up in your mind is so many times dirtier than what you first thought while he was kissing you at the carousel — that you have to gather your breath several times.

„Tug here,“ you bring Baekhyun’s left hand to the front part of your underwear. „Pull it upwards. And press my lips together with one hand.“

Bringing up your panties this way leaves the middle line of fabric thinner, as well as tight and squeezing around your clit and labia minora. It slides between your ass cheeks and pulls against both of your holes at the same time.

That way, Baekhyun has an easier time squeezing the outer lips together quite firmly. They’ve become pink and red like ripe strawberries. Your pulse is racing like crazy.

How Baekhyun presses them with his fingers curling forward, your clit becomes even more closed in. Both the tightened up fabric digging into its sides as well as from the front, and the grip of Baekhyun’s right hand on your entire pussy leaves it attacked from all angles. The squeeze is strong and far too delicious.

„Fuck, so lewd, fuck!“

The arousal is like a luscious burn spreading. But it doesn’t sting or rub your clit enough to give it relief. You’re left in limbo, with your pussy lips growing plumper in Baekhyun’s never-tired, busy fingers. You want him to eat and slurp you up whole and stuff his mouth full, and have him trail his cotton candy tongue all over your big clit, but know very well that you’d come in seconds and probably pass out. Your legs twitch far too much already.

„Pause. I’m, I’m not gonna let you eat it for now. For now, Baekhyun. But you know how it would be like.“

Baekhyun stops. He very well knows.

„Your lips, they—“

You wish you had his cock between them and you know he knows, too.

„Need a good filling,“ you whisper to him. „A big one. Big and glazing and oozing.“

Pouring out as much as possible. You can picture it so well. Baekhyun hums right along.

„Yes, Y/N.“

„I can’t wait for much longer. You have something for me?“

„I have.“

Baekhyun’s fingers loosen carefully now. Slow, as not to give you the accidental push over the edge now that the pressure on your clit subsides and it becomes sensitive, easy to set off. Eventually, he is able to let go completely without triggering your orgasm. It leaves you throbbing and even hornier than before.

„Do you want to, or should I?“ he points toward the hem of his pants. You both end up smirking a little to yourselves. You know it’s your favorite part.

„Won’t be taking chances with this one,“ you breathe out, then scoot forward from your recline to hook your fingers at his abdomen. Time to inspect. It’s a welcome break to let your clit off the hook a bit. He’s even warmer than his wrists there.

You only realize that there’s no reason for him to wear boxers underneath when you’re already halfway nearing the spot that seems too bulged out for your own good. Way too bulged out. Shoving Baekhyun’s pants down to his knees entirely, you get to see that Mr. Kim’s engineers really did overwork themselves.

Just as you requested, this part of him has been left deliberately hybrid — the skin showing an actual silver-blue sheen from underneath. Inside, you see copper and titanium-plated ligaments and movable layers that intertwine like fish scales. Outside, a highly elastic blend of silicone and texture-giving material. It’s matte and a bit opaque, but still akin to actual veins being visible in how it’s sculpted.

Baekhyun’s subtle curve looks remarkably elegant. Almost mathematical. You could put his dick next to the Fibonacci Spiral and it would be uncanny.

Now with his trousers removed, you see how easily everything rises and expands even more. The layers inside his cock glide alongside each other seamlessly without the startling noise you expected them to make. Their sound is absolutely minimal.

„That’s the dick I wanted.“

„All for you, Miss. Try it out.“

Chapter 7: Custom Shapes

You can’t resist the urge to touch him, trace a finger across the right side. How easy to the eye the material appears is evenly matched by how soft and smooth his entire length is, peaking in a subtly formed tip with cascading angles. Neither too broad nor bulbous, nor with a protruding edge, promising an easy insertion and smooth thrusts. There’s a deliberate bit of foreskin adhering to it, closing the transition between tip and shaft in a harmonious way. You love his cock. But one thing you want to kick yourself for.

You’ve entirely overestimated yourself in terms of how many inches you want him to get like an idiot. Not to mention the girth.

It’s almost as big as your whole fist. He’s going to absolutely destroy you. You feel your hands starting to shake. The adrenaline drops into a panic.

„It’s too big, Baekhyun. I’m scared.“

„Y/N…“

„I’m really not used to this. It’s going to hurt me.“

Even before you finish speaking, he immediately shakes his head.

„No, no, I’m sorry if it comes across as that. I can make it squeeze more easily if you want. I can do that.“

„Can you?“

„That’s what the plates inside are for. You can try it out. Press it if you want.“

Calming yourself feels hard to do right now. But you follow his suggestion, giving the middle part a proper squeeze. First hesitant, but then, more firmly.

Kinetic memory, you remind yourself.

And he didn’t lie. Everything becomes a lot more malleable than you thought.

The little scale parts visibly rearrange. Where you apply pressure, and it’s still not much at this point, the girth recedes, and slowly bulges back out after you retreat your fingers again.

„So… okay. Okay. It does feel different. That’s working. But it’s still really huge…“

Baekhyun comes to assuage you with his voice now.

„I’m not going to rip you apart, okay. It also doesn’t expand back once I’m inside you.

„It doesn’t?“

„I can make it adapt to how you want it to be.“

The plating does look like it allows for a lot of flexibility. And decent elasticity for that matter. You soothe yourself by squeezing him again, watching the diameter contract inside your palm.

„That’s, that’s good news. And I thought I’d get impaled.“

„It has a metal core but it doesn’t necessarily stay the same,“ Baekhyun continues. „If you want to take it into your mouth, I can do that as well and make it smaller.“

„It’s what I’ve been thinking. I’d get lockjaw otherwise. You have one fat monster.“

Whatever you were thinking when you gave him almost an underarm worth of length on the website, something got the best of you — despite things being so predictable and his customization being entirely up to you.

„I hope I didn’t scare you too much.“

Baekhyun himself reaches down now to squeeze his cock next to your own hand until the copper layers contract. The firmer he does it, the more it adapts. It’s like he said. Maybe you can actually fit this. A big lump that’s been coiling up in your stomach slowly dissolves with that thought.

You also notice that Baekhyun is completely still even if you’re practically in a death grasp around his dick. Anybody else would be squealing and writhing. You again realize. He feels absolutely nothing.

It is all meant just for you.

You have to get that fact into your head. It’s all crafted for your enjoyment. Of course it’s not going to be some immovable way-too-large-dildo attached him. For the amount of money you paid, anyways. You could swear a third of your budget was used to give Baekhyun a high tech wonder wand.

„The good thing,“ he says, „about being made instead of born is that it can be three in one. I know why men easily envy pleasure models who are built in such a way.“

Wait a second. You perk up. What does that mean.

„Three in one… sizes?“

„Exactly,“ Baekhyun begins to recount. „Mister Park phrased it like this. A big girth to look at, medium size for penetration, and a shorter version for oral. Especially if you are concerned. You have a strong gag reflex.“

It’s hard to believe your ears right now.

„How—How did you—“

„While I was making breakfast. I looked into the freezer to see if we have pizza for lunch. And I saw your box with mixed brands of popsicles.“

„Oh…“

That box.

„The smaller ones are almost all gone.“

He must’ve looked at the back of the box where the types of ice cream are all listed.

„Yeah. The mini cones and such.“

And the sandwiches with three types of ice cream inside. Chocolate, vanilla, strawberry. Your favorites. But why would that even matter? You look at Baekhyun completely incredulous. What on earth was he getting at?

„But the elongated ones,“ he draws an approximate image into the air with his index, „that you have to squeeze out of a tube are untouched. It’s the type of ice cream that you have to wait to melt to rise up from the paper wrap. And when they do and you squeeze, it can shoot up suddenly. That can be uncomfortable to eat for some people. If you have a sensitive throat, you’ll avoid it.“

You feel caught for something you didn’t even commit. How could he make such an accurate conclusion based on what you didn’t eat? You already saw at the funfair how easily he could look up information about food on the spot. Maybe that’s exactly what he did. But still, he connected two seemingly unrelated things without breaking a sweat. He’s really learning fast.

„I’m dating Sherlock Holmes.“

The colorful breakfast fruit plate Baekhyun served up was too delicious to notice that he’d already inspected and organized every inch of your kitchen. Not to mention he was wearing one of your cute aprons with little dancing piglets and sheep on them which distracted you until the toast got cold.

„I’m not going to ignore the hints if they’re right in front of my eyes. Avoiding your discomfort is my first priority.“

You go figure.

„So… you can make it even more perky, then?“

„Not to an extreme degree. But molded to the width of your jaw and teeth,“ Baekhyun points at your chin. „So it will slide in and out very easily.“

„Oh, alright?“

You raise your brows. So it can actually change its shape even more than how he just showed you. You’re starting to like this.

„It’s not going to be painful or make you choke unless you push for it. But when I decrease the length, that shouldn’t happen anyway.“

It really does seem practical. Three in one. The perky version for oral. Why not, the best of all worlds. It’s an advantage of technology, as weird as it sounds.

You mentally send blessings to whoever in the testing department had the guts to brief the colleagues that the big girth version is more eye candy rather than recommended for use. You’d probably clamp up or scream the roof down if he fucked you like that. Let alone do deepthroat.

„Does this mean… you can make it an imprint that fits my mouth? Can I see it?“

He’s really making you curious. You’ve indicated a vague idea of something like that in the questionnaire, but never assumed that the engineers would bother making it into something complex. Up until now, you have to urge yourself to not underestimate how easily inspired they must have been. Somebody really went off.

„I can give you a short demonstration if you help me a little,“ Baekhyun reaches for the towel at the end of the bed, drying off his hands with gentle rubbing motions.

„Okay, just tell me.“

„All you have to do is take it in very slowly. And consistently. It will shape itself that way. I’ll have to give you a few pointers. Can I do that, you want to try this?“

„Sounds good.“

„You can always pinch here if you don’t want to anymore,“ Baekhyun indicates a spot at his right thigh that is just within reach.

„I got it. Just pinch,“ you repeat for yourself, and settle to get comfortable, push your hair out of your face.

At first, positioning yourself is a little difficult because you have to bend forward from your own seated position to reach his crotch, but you end up figuring it out without having to put strain on your foot.

Little by little, you guide in Baekhyun’s tip.

It immediately begins to waver and bend inside your mouth. Meanwhile, judging by the little nestling and a soft tug at the back of your head, Baekhyun has used the hair tie to pull your hair into a ponytail.

While you had immediately laid the tie aside after he returned from the bathroom and forgot about what it was supposed to do out of nervousness, he kept an eye on it.

Baekhyun is that motherfucker, you say to yourself. Let’s do this.

Given that the keyword seemed to be consistency, you remind yourself to keep going stably, keeping your lips loose around him. As if you were eating an ice cube, you avoid using your teeth like hell. You must look ridiculous opening up this wide.

„Don’t worry about scraping me once or twice, the silicone is sturdy,“ Baekhyun says, letting his right hand glide under your jaw. „Prop your chin on my palm. I show you how wide you have to open to make it comfortable.“

Whatever sturdiness there is supposed to be, all you feel is the slightly velvety surface of his cock’s underside lathering against your tongue. You would have thought it takes some lube to make it glide, but it’s not as painfully dry as you thought. Neutral it does taste, but it’s not a desert dry material.

With Baekhyun’s hand under your jaw, you get a better sense of opening up soon. He’s really touching you very gently.

„You feel how it re-forms itself, right. Is it okay like this?

„N—hm.“

„Keep sliding it in for just a little more. You’re doing great.“

Doing so is really surprisingly easy. Where you thought his dick would bump against, there’s basically nothing happening at all.

„Excuse me when I say that. You have a perfectly shaped mouth cave,“ Baekhyun smiles. „But I already know from kissing you.“

What must have sounded like the creepiest compliment in any other situation actually makes you hum and smile a little. You begin to understand just how seriously he seeks to map out your body. Nobody has ever truly bothered to do that.

In the meantime, you notice your nose approaching a dead stop at his loins and your lower lip pressing against what must be the most supple balls of all time. You’re sure that he didn’t make those shrink.

„They’re as big as they were before,“ Baekhyun confirms, vigilant eye he is. „The rest is already close to fully imprinted by now. I just need you to move your head back and forth a little. That helps me gauge how you angle it and what your lips tend to do. Add a bit of variation if you want.“

Doing just that proves to be more fun than you thought. You bop your head a little slower, a little faster. Shallow, then all the way to have your forehead meet his abdomen. It really is… easy?

His size has decreased significantly. You didn’t gag at all so far. Baekhyun doesn’t feel as if he’s just stuck there and ramming in. That you’ve already taken his entire length in so early makes you feel really accomplished, too.

While you move your head, you can feel his dick change a little on your tongue. You even let it slide in sidewards to poke into your cheek, then pull out to kiss the tip of his dick, making Baekhyun smile even more brightly.

„I see you’re good at this. And I really love your lips. They’re pretty.“

You inspect the very slicked up shaft before you with great interest. Without really going at it fully, you already really salivated a lot on it. But even more notable is the unusual shape it’s changed into. It’s assumed a downward curve and has dents where your tongue and teeth were located a second ago. The tip is also much more streamlined. It could probably reach down your throat a little more without having you coughing all over the place.

„The imprint is done, right? That looks really impressive.“

„As good as finished. I save that in my memory data. It can reform at any time you wish it to.“

So that’s part of kinetic learning, too, then — custom dick shapes.

„Mh, interesting. Thanks for doing this, Baek.“

You straighten from your former position and smile at him.

„I might use a similar shape if you ask me to do anal. Just slightly larger. I think I can fit into you very well overall.“

As if he couldn’t be any more adorable, he puts his thumb up with the most innocent face.

„Oh man. I’m so glad I got you, Baek.“

He’s very well read that your questionnaire had a clear preference when it comes to butt stuff.

„Thank you very much. If you want to do this often and get a little practice, I can even help you slide it down your esophagus a little more. I promise you won’t gag or get narrow.“

You don’t doubt it’s possible anymore. Who knows what other freaky templates he can bend into.

„This dick really is magic,“ you lick off some excess saliva from your lips.

„All it is is being designed so you can do whatever you want with it. Everything to your liking.“

You scratch your head.

„And I thought I’d get into trouble doing this.“

Lord knows every blowjob so far has landed you in making a scene or teary eyes. Especially if you tried to shove it down even if you couldn’t reach balls deep. Silly ambition again. And you thought you’d quit this all together.

„Just because you have a limit to depth,“ Baekhyun wipes a little thread of spit from your chin, „doesn’t mean you have to do away with your oral fixation. I really saw you having fun trying different techniques. And it looked like it was very pleasant stimulation for your tongue and saliva flow. If you want do this, you can always ask.“

You get a little flustered at him saying that. Not that he’s wrong. In any sense at all, actually.

„I think you’ll have to get ready to be in my throat a lot during the mornings. With my favorite cherry lube.“

Oh god. That is going to be… very slobbery and heated.

Nothing screams more ‚already am, come get your face fucked at 4:15AM I don’t care‘ than Baekhyun’s eyes right now.

„If you want something tasty before breakfast I’ll have no problems preparing that also.“

He does an invisible hat tip. So serving up fruit is not exclusive to the kitchen then. You find yourself getting euphoric.

„And… we will get to anal some time,“ you mumble under your breath. „Put some prep stuff on our online grocery list.“

„Yes, Ma’am. Just noted. I hope I can thrill you.“

As if you were getting into your car for the first time all over again, Baekhyun dons his best butler voice and you’re starting to fancy it.

„With that wonder boy you have in your pants, I’m thinking I met my match, you know.“

The type you wanna say I do to in a special ceremony separately.

„Precisely how it should be.“

„And, Baekhyun… With the special request idea. I don’t know how to say it. I want to extend this a little to oral as well. Maybe even today.“

„Will get back to it in about an hour.“

So he’s already calculated the route, then.

One hour sounds like a challenge to you, but at this point: You might as well trust what he’s got on his mind. He estimates you better than you do yourself anyway. You’re glad you didn’t move to penetration right away to begin with. Your pussy had enough time to calm down a bit. The swelling is still very much there, however. And your panties are nothing short of a mess. They’re basically sopping.

„As for going on now… I probably don’t have to tell you how wet I am,“ you take a deliberate look down your thighs.

„If you want to know my exact train of thought. I’ve already planned when I’ll wash your ruined underwear. 3:30PM.“

You have to giggle. The mere thought of that image. And he’s really taken over the household like a whirlwind.

It’s time you get to your part of the equation again. Mr. Kim’s imperative returns to you. Your turn to give Baekhyun some more input. With a dick like that, you can think of more instructions than you could list in one go. You build yourself up and place your hand just where you cupped his chin during your kiss on the fair.

„Then I plan you take them off — at now PM.“

You can almost hear a series of programmes running behind Baekhyun’s flickering eyes. Who knows what he is analyzing in his head again. Eventually, he flashes his cute little smile again and ushers you.

„Here?“ He questioningly points back to the center of the sofa where you started out, and you lie down right there.

Funny how much you sidetracked and moved around in the meantime.

Not thinking about transitioning into another position has made it much more effortless and nowhere near as awkward as you thought it would be.

And in hindsight, you were easily swayed into an unexpected intermezzo. Guess you love sucking his dick already. Which is just how Baekhyun offered it to you. All yours. Big and fat and bendy and perfect, morphing itself in whatever makes you hot. You want to shout it from the rooftops, right at all the Mister Lees of the world.

But upon second thought? Better not tell especially your nosy friends from work how hooked you are before they ask for more details.

Hwasa means well, but she would end up telling your damn boss by accident or something. Or Taemin, he would gossip about it on his twitter without name-dropping you, but everybody would know regardless. Meanwhile, Xiumin would make a vlog about „How To Perfectly Clean Your Flat“ and mention it in passing. Chen’s wife would watch it and tell Chen and Kai. Kai would absolutely tell Hyuna and Lisa. And Hyuna would absolutely tell Lay, and Lay would tell Kai, and by that time, the president would probably know.

Treasuring this all for yourself seems like the better thing to do. You want to protect Baekhyun even if he’s the last person on the block who probably needs it. Maybe it’s also a sense of protecting yourself. Maybe some of your friends wouldn’t be averse to getting a leisure bot themselves, but the rest of them still prized even their toxic partners as better than someone like Baekhyun, even if his kind had been part of the society for long enough.

You take note of making impromptu experiments like that for the future regardless.

By now, Baekhyun undresses you fully. Steady hands, steady eyes. Giving your legs a lusciously slow caress that gives you goosebumps. Pulling down your panties with a lot of deliberation, and giving you a good view of his cock. It’s shaping itself back and grows a little again, adding in girth and becoming less streamlined. It curves upward now, revealing a very plump and tight set of balls underneath. You’ve briefly felt them, but didn’t have the chance for a closer look. Now that you think about it, they’re even bigger than before. How it happened, you don’t know.

They seem to be pulsing and turning something white and silver metallic on the inside now. Making them appear… even larger. Two generous scoops of light pink seaside parlor ice cream. Discernable as a pair, but still perfectly one like a pillow. Not sagging very far down even if they seem to move around quite easily. They can probably slap and cushion against your clit if you go for doggy style with decent speed. The noises would be so nasty, you’d have to record it. You curse your foot for not permitting that anytime soon.

So— that thought will leave you high and dry for some time, then.

Makes that damn Achilles’ Heel getting his ever-loving shit together an even sweeter feat to look forward to, actually. So Baekhyun can really drive it home. You get kind of heated at that image in your mind. He is great at giving it to you from behind, you just know it. Now, everything he does well. But this one in particular. You get all sweaty with that idea again.

Baekhyun is still all the way preoccupied with pulling your panties past the knees, upbeat and kind in his expression. And calm, endlessly calm. Every movement, it’s all in perfect ease. You look like a jittery mess compared to him on your back right now.

„Shit, man,“ you bite down your lips after a desperate sigh. This couldn’t be any more tantalizing.

Chapter 8: The Bigger Picture

„Should I stop?“ his hands linger at your ankles, panties almost stripped off your legs. You can already feel the relief of not drowning in yourself anymore.

„No, I,“ you shift around on your back. How the hell do you explain this. „I wish I could stay calm like that, I’m not gonna lie to you. Sorry if I’m one of those bot envy people.“

No use in beating around the bush. He’d read it out of you anyways.

„And I wish I could shake as beautifully as you, you see.“

A comforting eye smile rises underneath his bangs. It gets a hold on you in a way that’s inexplicable.

Don’t you remember him with the cotton candy taste, you think. If anything, the envy is mutual. You’re pretty slow.

He’s trying his best to understand you.

You might want to start reciprocating that. Baekhyun can’t feel human happiness. But he can feel like he’s fulfilling his task. So help him with that, for God’s sake. Your part of the equation isn’t done after paying some money and taking him home or whatever. Being with a bot is more than that. He doesn’t have the needs of a human, but there are conditions that have to be met regardless.

„Point taken, Baekhyun.“

His cheesiness is cute. No use in not trying to tremble either, then. You can’t be him and he can’t be you. Might as well embrace yourself so he can work with it.

Baekhyun finishes the swipe of his movement and settles more closely, sitting on his heels just as before. You’re starting to think that it’s his signature posture.

„And I don’t mind if you envy me,“ he says, offering his hands for you to hold.

„You don’t?“

„There’s cold envy and there’s warm envy. It’s all about how much you like the person. You don’t hate me, right.“

„No, how would I? I really— like you.“

You close either hand around his.

„Then it’s warm envy,“ Baekhyun nods.

„I think… I understand.“

„And you need to know that I adore you also.“

A little squeeze of his hands accompanies his words. You’re caught off guard. All you can think of as a reply is a nod, unable to meet his eyes. You’re at a loss of words entirely. Here you go again.

Maybe the time has come that machines have a better grasp on emotions than humans. They have to teach it back to them.

You try to hide your embarrassment by a little stutter, but he’s already lowering his head down to you, again facing you close by. Close enough for you to see the light golden fuzz of his skin that actually almost seems silver under the artificial lighting of the room.

„So if you want me to do anything for you. Just do the same thing as before. You’ve done it well.“

„I don’t think so,“ you chew at your bottom lip, very well convinced that all you did was being a mess. Baekhyun must be seriously frustrated with this amount of all-too-human chaos.

„There are clients that take at least four to five trials to instruct their leisure models properly. You’ve already managed at first try, you see.“

Your jaw legitimately drops. Probably even lower than when you saw Baekhyun step out of the capsule.

„Five attempts?“

„Some send their bots back because they can’t get themselves to do it at all,“ he affirms. „But either way, those are likely the clients who’d rather apply to purchase automatic models in the first place.“

Automatic models.

You remember. Now you count one and one together — Mr. Kim talked about these bots. You never even realized. The ones seemingly everybody was ordering which drove the whole faculty staff into an endless scientific boredom.  

„Most client requests we get want some kind of he-man. They only spend twenty minutes customizing their bot on the website, if not less. Our engineers rarely get to equip a bot with so much pizzazz.“

In fact, these are the bots of a cheaper price range that run on the exact same automatism over and over for the lack of not having any other programming or sentience.

You don’t have to look no further than imagining that they work like a generic sex toy. They’re just in humanoid shape. A fruit plate for breakfast they can’t serve. They don’t have any interest in cotton candy either. The client can only switch them on for intercourse and enjoy maybe two or three default positions at best before their bot goes back to sleep again. They don’t talk freely, they don’t think, they don’t ask questions. They do their job, but they’re not…

Boyfriends.

You suddenly don’t regret spending forever at the PC to fill in forms and paying a lot more money to the faculty anymore.

„What? That’s insane. I never knew.“

How lucky you are to have Baekhyun is an overwhelming thought. If you’re entirely honest with yourself— it even gives you something that feels like butterflies. It’s strange.

„We non-automatic models can only do what we’re supposed to when we get asked.“

„Yeah.“

„Even most things a client requested in the past can’t be done again without a second permission. You have to instruct us in every new situation.“

„Yes, Mr. Kim really emphasized that.“

You feel better knowing that you have read between the lines correctly. Mr. Kim said a lot of things that sounded very complex and removed from daily life, but he managed to convey the most important thing about Baekhyun.

„I have always heard from Mr. Park that many female clients who give their bot back aren’t even the type of person who has troubles speaking their wishes. They don’t have any wishes at all. I think they’ve given up on themselves.“

He looks so downtrodden saying that. The image in your mind looks just as depressing. You want to curl yourself up.

„Wow. Wow, that… sounds scary.“

„Already by law, we can’t dictate them what we want as a replacement for their lacking preferences. Even if that is what they’re expecting. And then, they blame it on us if we stay passive during sex. It’s an unfair game.“

You can already picture how many cases like that must’ve happened.

Mr. Kim was absolutely right to let non-automatic bots decide over who they want to match with or not.

For way other reasons you had naïvely assumed. To be fair, you are still a beginner with this and AndroTech’s terms of service page was a jargon novel in font size 4, bearable as a skim at best.

„So it would even break the law,“ you find yourself even more startled. „To engage in acts that were not… requested on the spot?“

„Yes. But it’s not all clear-cut. Some bots are enabled and do try hard to read their client’s true wishes out of them, and they take the lead to get things started. Especially when a client is extremely nervous on the first day.“

„Oh…“

„You’ve seen me do it with you. How to touch you, whether I can drive and cook for you, how we relax before sleeping. You saw that I was forward with you to take the pressure off. I even picked you up without asking.“

„Yeah, I saw. I understand it now.“

Pretty much from the very first moment. Baekhyun probably knew you didn’t want to walk the corridors to the faculty exit the moment he looked at you. And he did take the lead, and asked about your every reaction hoping he anticipated exactly the right thing you didn’t dare voice.

„Which can be uncomfortable, but the client very clearly has something in mind and they end up saying it. But you can’t use coercion or skip that they say it.“

You give a small „M-hm“ in response and feel the guilt rush over your face.

„That shyness or shameful feeling at the start we can deal with. But in other cases, a person only wants the bot to tell them what to do. Which we’re not allowed to,“ Baekhyun’s voice shifts to a much graver tone. „We are the ones who adapt to the client. We don’t have a motivation to give orders, either.“

„Motivation?“

This keeps on getting more and more puzzling.

„If you can’t feel something, you can’t desire something. Take me— I don’t know what a sense of satisfaction is. And our base programming is to be of service. Even if we did something random that we saw fit just to give a command. It’d be illegal.“

At first, you wonder why the rule would not apply to the automatic he-man bots, but it was actually making sense. The client had decided on their limited programming. Switching them on was giving permission itself, and they could be turned off at any moment.

Meanwhile, a bot like Baekhyun had variation to his actions and was constantly running on AndroTech’s special power generator, lord knows what it did to run all day. Now, if any of his actions were against your will, or he did something without being asked: He would be taken away from you.

If he gave you a decisive order completely unprompted: His programming would be permanently deactivated almost on the spot, even. Bots trying to guess what their clients had on their mind were walking a tightrope.

„This is a much more serious thing than I thought.“

You puff out. Baekhyun gives a wholehearted nod.

„You can tell we have to be careful to find clients who know what they want.“

„I never thought of it that way. But yeah. I can see how the faculty gets into trouble otherwise.“

„Yes. It’s a huge problem.“

And you were as silly as assuming that bot abuse was the biggest issue in the industry. Turns out clients who want their leisure models to break the law are the real skeleton in the closet.

It’s starting to become a bigger picture to you. The repercussions are so much more expensive and damaging for the company image. A bot that an angry client kicked around was only a nuisance if repair was concerned. The whole thing was kind of bizarre.

„I’ll be very careful,“ you assure. „To fulfill my side of the contract.“

„Y/N. You are the last person who’d concern me. I have been sure from the start that you are the ideal person to be with. It’s why I agreed so fast to Mr. Kim’s question whether I want to match up or not. Most bots will ask Mr. Kim to postpone that question so they can gauge their client in a testing period.“

„They… do?“

„Yes.“

„But I already made a mistake,“ you say, remembering how you started out today. „I don’t think I’m ideal or something like that.“

Baekhyun’s following blink is more than knowing.

„That you question yourself tells me you’re a good client. Bad clients don’t self-reflect.“

Maybe you’ve done at least that right.

„I see?“

„You might become reserved or berate yourself sometimes. But that you wrote down 280 specifics for Mr. Kim tells me everything. Once the nervousness dissolves, you do the right thing already and I see your nature. You wish for a lot of things. That makes you ideal to me. I can take care of this one thing at a time.“

He plants a brief, but passionate kiss on the back of your left hand. The cheesy motherfucker got you again.

„Baekhyun, I…“

„That gives me a lot to work with. I hope you look forward to all this. We’ll spend many great nights.“

His charming little smile and dark eyes are as encouraging as ever. Thinking about the many options of 280 makes you giddy already.

„I do. And… I really want to see how the Special Request feels like.“

Your legs are like squirming jelly at this point. Very much unlike Baekhyun who’s stable and resting — in promise of great stamina.

„I’m ready if you are. I’m sorry if my talking delayed this. But I think some last few questions had to get out of the way. As for the request: There’s not much I need to prepare for it.“

Chapter 9: You Look Really Beautiful

„We’ll be starting with… you know. Lower medium size?“

You shift in the sheets, stuttering that out like a pre-schooler, but who the hell cares at this point. It’s not like you didn’t invent all of this.

„All as you want it,“ says Baekhyun with just the right touch of yielding in his tone. How he makes this sound so impeccably polite is a mystery.

„This is really easy to insert,“ he continues, giving a light caress against your cheek. You don’t miss just how much it is meant to be an encouraging touch. Your face feels tingly.

„Okay, let’s give it a shot, then.“

While Baekhyun reshapes the plates, you recline with your knees pulled toward your torso, making sure to place your wonky foot in an unobtrusive way. So far, it’s only complained while you were climbing around trying to find a position to suck Baekhyun off. Sweet baby Jesus. If your heel would ruin your first time, you’d curse your clumsiness forever and sign up at AndroTech to get your legs android-ized if that were even possible.

You’d probably make a good cyborg now that you think about it. With your new steel-inforced feet and knee caps, you’d be one robot step closer to blowing and riding Baekhyun to infinity until his dick needs repair, which you… already plan to do anyways.

„Can you stimulate me like before, please. Just by using your cock now. I’m so horny for it.“

„Of course.“

Baekhyun glides the tip up and down your outer and inner labia alternatingly, then lets it rub all over your clit. Which happens so smoothly. You’re more than wet. He’s drenched you so hard.

Shit.

It doesn’t take many prods until your arousal returns at its fullest, and Baekhyun strikes a complimenting tone in the middle of letting the underside of his shaft tap against the swelling rose bud.

„Your pussy is really pretty. It’s like pink clouds to me.“

He makes a little innocent face. He’s too adorable. Still, you swallow. So it’s time to bring the funfair to this sofa, then, is it.

„I really— want you to stretch it nicely,“ you grab hold of his cock. „So that the filling can seep in really far. I want a lot of it. And after you filled me, you make me cum.“

„I will, Y/N. I prepared a lot for you,“ he nods. „And it’s enriched with pheromones.“

Pheromones.

So the faculty did find ways to flavor things. Realizing that, you already feel twice as horny as before.

„Shit, it’s gonna smell so good. Put it in, put it in… I want to know how it feels.“

You fumble with his tip at your entrance, and Baekhyun lifts his hips accordingly. It slides in for an inch, giving your entrance an idea of the diameter so far.

While you first squeezed his dick in your hand, the surface felt very matte. Now, with Baekhyun carefully securing his cock between the soft embrace of your lips, it makes for a great sensation of grip and stretch paired with how wet you are. His medium girth is really not bad at all even if it’s downsized. In fact, it’s pushing at your entrance in the juiciest way. With no panties in between anymore. You realize that it’s really about to go down.

„Baekhyun, oh god. Oh god. It’s good. Put your hands around my waist.“

He swiftly does, no second wasted. His fingers, his palms, his wrists— are so soft. You notice that his right hand sits significantly lower than the left one, pretty much on the hip bone. You already want to ask him to move it upwards that you realize he’s seen the scar from your appendix surgery and avoided putting his hand on it.

„Do you want me to slide in more along the way?“

„Yes, more.“

You can tell that Baekhyun knows the exact angle to glide into you. With his hands suavely placed on you now, he adjusts your pelvis without needing leverage. The sheer given shape of his palms has your body melt into the right posture. Eventually, his cock tip makes its way down your walls, bulging them apart. Baekhyun’s length gliding into you has you feel the entirety of his shaft pushing in with a proper thickness. A perfect languid strain, making your pussy feel amazingly filled and bursting with veiny, girthy cock.

„Fuck. Please use your fingers, Baekhyun,“ you gasp out, feel your lungs contract. „And kiss me all over.“

He keeps on sliding in. Leaves little kisses on your nose and sweat-glazed collar bones, breasts, neck. His plush little lips make pecking noises that sound all the way dirtier when he turns them into desperate moans. Baekhyun sure knows how to push your buttons. You’re about to go nuts entirely.

One hand leaving your waist, he adds a consistent stroke at your clit until he surprises you with slowly hitting balls deep.

Already?

„I’m in. How does it feel?“

It really is good to insert.

The heat from your clit mixes with the satisfaction of Baekhyun now being fully curved inside you. He was so much easier to take than you were afraid of.

„It’s amazing to me.“

A squeeze from your muscles comfortably locks Baekhyun, who gently lowers his posture above you, in the spot. Just enough for you to let your fingertips ghost over the center of his abs. His body is so warm, almost heated.

Then, you reach for his face and kiss him deeply. His tongue immediately picks up your pacing, swirls around yours in an intricate dance. The passion overflows. You want so much more.

„Start thrusting. Stimulate me.“

Accompanied with a faster flick of his fingers on your clit, Baekhyun lets his cock pulse in and out of you without removing much of its length. The inward tug at your walls pushes your womb along with it. Baekhyun’s width is just right in spreading your pussy apart, and how he gets you off brings more slickness to each thrust. You feel yourself getting really swollen up and bubbling wet, even more than before.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

„Make it grow a little,“ you push the words past your tense jaw. „And then give me the first special request.“

Again, he doesn’t hesitate. The sudden growth spurt takes a bit off the speed out of Baekhyun’s plunge, but soon increases again. It’s because his cock has started to leak inside, pouring more and more lubrication around itself.

„Is that good?“

His thrusts make the velvety liquid surface at the base of his cock. Very slowly, but surely. He’s fucking it out of you so well. Almost instantly, the smell is intoxicating. A hefty concoction of vanilla, fruit, and something very sharp and musky layered over it. A very masculine and upbeat spice that is like an electric current. The liquid keeps oozing from your entrance with every thrust, bringing more of the scent to live.

„Fuck. Please more. That’s so good. Hold me when I buck up, Baekhyun!“

The special request is nothing but a liquid mechanism that lets Baekhyun pump you full of milky white pre-cum. Whenever you want, mid-fuck at full speed, or as a quick filling without much prep. With a big load or just a little portion as lube, anything goes. Baekhyun has to refill the material with special cartilages every now and then, but it’s compressed like the foam of a whipped cream bottle. Just a lot more fluid. And way, way too loaded with artificial pheromones for your brain to handle. Your pussy explodes with oozing pre-cum and the tension of pleasure alike. You really can’t handle it. Still dizzy from the kiss, your tongue is all loose and erratic anyway.

„Not, ah—! To ask for something I can’t handle for the twentieth time or something! Fucking shit!“

You take a deep breath. Even a fast look between your thighs has you clenching. Everything is so creamy. And sticky. And milky. All with his cock buried right in the soaking middle of it. Baekhyun really gave you a full-on A class preview for the special request.

„Ask away. Even if it’s unrealistic. I make things feasible. That’s my job if anything,“ he looks more friendly than ever at you. Mr. Kim couldn’t sport a smile any better. Jesus Christ, he’s patient with you.

„I think I got some greed but, uh.“

„No worries. I can work with that. Greedy girls are the best girls.“

„Can you just, cockwarm me and give me another load. With the— bigger… version. If that doesn’t get me to the ER. I just want to try it for a minute or two even if it’s too big. You probably know if I’m built to do that better than me though.“

By the knowing look he gives you, Baekhyun indeed does.

„That works, I already calculated that. You’re stretched enough. If we don’t do it for long and I’m not moving, you’ll just feel really stuffed and full.“

„Exactly what I’m wanting,“ you blurt, and your eyes grow all the more impatient.

„Okay. I’ll be holding your legs up a little more for that if it’s alright. Just keep your ankle very relaxed.“

„M-hm!“

By doing that, you realize he changes how you angle yourself at him. You mentally prepare yourself, and already feel him expand inside. That pushes even more of the scented fluid out of your pussy, spreading over his cock. The smell of vanilla and grapefruit, whatever it is, becomes even stronger. Everything pools and drips from his expanding shaft in sticky threads that you want all over you, and in his mouth, his face, everywhere. Your poor pussy is nothing but a lake at this point.

„I’m gonna burst with this inside of me.“

And he really is monstrously big in his full form.

„Almost there. Does it feel okay?“

It grows and grows. Becomes veinier and all slick, bathed in scent and your own pussy creaming it up.

„Shit… that thing is like a spear! Fuck! Keep it, keep it up—!“

He keeps on growing. The stretch of your walls is driving you wild. You can’t even put a proper grip on him with your muscles at this point. All there is — a bulging sensation of your pussy getting filled out all around. It does make you feel tensed up. Even if the surface of his cock feels only a bit elastic, the diameter is too wide at this point.

„It’s a bit uncomfortable if you focus too much there with your muscles,“ Baekhyun says. „Look at my hands.“

Baekhyun circles into your clit with his index. It mixes relief into the stretch. And more pulsing excitement. Just a light caress wouldn’t do it at this point. He knows he has to rub a little faster.

„You’re all… stuck there,“ is all you can moan. He’s grown sufficiently to let your sensitive entrance feel like it’s going to burn up in flames. In its normal state, there’s no way he would get past it in his large size. You don’t even know just how far up he is inside you. If he’d thrust now, your guts would be as ruined as your panties. The flaring sensation of him spreading all inside you is all that you can think of. You’re starting to think you must’ve developed a cock addiction because of those pheromones, the thought of him not being inside of you all day like this sounds terrible.

Now that he’s entirely erect and stiffened, you can tell his dick has exactly the inner metallic strength you thought it had. He’s pretty heavy inside you. You get a buzzing in your head and accidentally shift your hips a little. The feeling that follows makes you gasp.

„That, that’s hitting something. Oh my god. It’s pressing me. Oh my god. What is that, Baekhyun!“

„Your cervix.“

„That’s deep in. Holy shit.“

„It’s really big and puffy. My sensors are liking it.“

So that’s where he is, then. Buried right there. Hitting the spot.

“Hold it there, Baekhyun. It feels so unusual! Please press it a little more.“

Baekhyun shifts his hips himself, causing you to feel the same bump again. It makes your body jerk and takes you by surprise once more.

„I think it likes kissing my tip the way you do with your lips.“

Either you’re imagining things, or Baekhyun actually sounds a bit accomplished.

„What! Does it react?“

„It’s getting increased blood flow and expands around me. If you want, I can rest a little deeper with my tip at the hole in the middle.“

The idea is so filthy knowing he could shoot you up with more pre-cum any second. All of it would spritz deep inside of you, almost the deepest way possible. You picture Baekhyun mixing up a huge load for you, only to pump it all the way through his immense length.

„Please, please do that, please. Push against it.“

„I’ll have to be really careful.“

„Come on, Baekhyun,“ you firmly grip at his hips to pull them down. „Beat my pussy up. It’s deep enough. Give me the whole length.“

That this means going balls deep entirely is making your legs do funny things.

Baekhyun, squeezing in the last inch, finally makes you feel like he’s splitting you apart. From your legs up to your neck, you can feel the strain. Your pussy can barely take it. It doesn’t know whether to fall apart or to tense up. That Baekhyun’s cock tip ever so slowly pushes, then penetrates into your cervix and stays there, neither opening it fully nor just resting loosely against it, sends you all sorts of arousing signals.

„You’re stretching so well. See how amazing your labia look now.“

The sensation of Baekhyun has distracted you entirely from just about anything else. A quick glance tells you it does just look like that. Your muscles are too pushed apart to grasp his dick, but your pussy lips do that job for you. They’re finally getting their right stretch. Plush, and wet, and wide apart, they hug Baekhyun as if trying to pull him in. It’s as if they’re sucking and gargling his cock and spilling saliva everywhere. They’ve grown amazingly plump and red. Two cock-hungry, endlessly greedy girls just for Baekhyun.

„How do you feel? Describe it to me.“

„I’m feeling so, I can’t, fucking crazy! It’s prodding a spot that’s really far up. Oh God. It’s so big. You… fuck… oh— You—!“

„You can call me any dirty names you want,“ Baekhyun lowers his voice. It sounds so naughty and provoking when he does that. „You know that I’m down to be a huge whore.“

The plain sneering delight in his eyes is so intense that your pussy starts to pulsate. That lewd and yearning Baekhyun hiding underneath the cute smexy smile has ambushed you again.

„Give me that slutty look on your face and stroke my belly. Show it. Moan. If you wanna be a whore, do it properly.“

„It’s really bulging out here, Y/N…“

He whimpers, traces his palm across your abdomen, quick to find the spot. It does form a bit of a bump. Even from your position, it’s quite visible.

„Yeah… Look, you did this.“

„Your pussy is so perfect on the inside, too. Really pink and juicy.“

That his tip is currently making cockwarming love to your cervix you can very well feel. The two of them are already headed to be on a familiar basis with each other. You want Baekhyun to smash and jizz it every fucking night.

„If you have some more cum, now’s the moment, Baek. Pound it.“

„One second,“ he jerks at the base, briefly having his right hand leave your waist. You grip at the nape of his neck to pull his face down. You lock lips, and they are so mesmerizing while Baekhyun makes sure to find a nice angle.

With a loud moan into his mouth, you can feel him stuffing your pussy with a shot of rich fluid. The accompanying thrust is strong, steep, and throbbing. It makes you want to mount Baekhyun and fiercely bounce on his dick until cumming all over it, way until collapsing. His cock reaches far enough through the opening of your cervix to fill your womb with its creamy load. The liquid drips against the upper area until it spreads out and leaks down into your vagina. A lake of his semen now pools back and forth inside your spongy uterus, Baekhyun’s cock stirring it with its light pulses and movements. He’s not thrusting, but making sure to keep his dick swaying and prodding just enough to ease your tensions.

„Another load,“ you part from his lips, craving. „Really make it to the brim. Move it once. Push it in… So good, Baekhyun…“

„Okay,“ he hums, and kisses you again, this time making gentle contact with your lips. „I’ll make it really warm and thick.“

„God, yes…“

„Here, are you ready?“

„Fill me.“

Baekhyun’s fat cock delivers a juicy stab, fucking the meaty, veiny width under the tip right into your cervix. Hard and quick, making your toes shiver. The blow pounds and heavily stretches it apart under your deep guttural moans. He’s really deepening his cock almost to the max, and you can feel how stiff and girthy he’s made it become. 

The first pre-cum load allows for a perfect glide already. The plunge is so good. Your cervix now faithfully grips at his shaft, fully lubricated and anticipating, swelling up, greedily throbbing around him so fast. It pulls his cock in the way you want to deepthroat Baekhyun. You repeat and repeat his name.

Finally, a second spurt comes to seep right into you like a waterfall. Baekhyun floods your pussy entirely without holding back. A gushing injection of white streaks and pearls comes to permeate you so deliciously that your heart skips a beat. The spill is much less fluid this time, but runny just like freshly whipped coconut cream, fanning out into little melted clouds. He’s shot what you imagine as more than the amount of a small glass of water into you. You are creamed up to the last millimeter. If he was fertile, you’d be pregnant with a cute little Baek baby in two seconds, and give birth only three minutes later.

„I love it!“

Your pussy walls loosen around him. Even if it means saying goodbye to your filling, now you wanna see how his semen looks like.

„Rest your hand there while you’re pulling out,“ you guide your had toward your abdomen. „You’re gonna tell me the difference.“

With Baekhyun slowly drawing out his cock and letting the vacuum suck the fluid downward, you become giddy. Your cervix refuses to close and instead stays pulsing open, letting all that he filled you with drip out. It’s a pal size puddle. Baekhyun’s dick looks so gigantic and coated now that he pulled out. You can’t believe all of that was inside of you.

„I really hate to leave you feeling empty,“ he says, and massages your belly very attentively.

„I wish your cum could stay inside all day. It’s so warm. I really miss your cock, too. Shit, Baekhyun.“

After some waiting time, his last bits of semen makes its way down. Your pussy gapes enough to let it squeeze out. It’s so thick and white, completely opaque. How good it smells you only register when you’re already hanging at Baekhyun’s lips again. The scent drives you to kiss him again and again, having your hands all over his body, praising him with your moans. He yields into your wild hug and the making out continues until your creampie no longer flows out. Half of your pussy is full of sticky semen still, warming you from the inside. Between your heavy breaths, you realize that Baekhyun’s laser gaze on you have even more craving than before.

„And this is not even the main event,“ he rasps into your ear. „We’re still headed towards the most important thing.“

You shake. His dark eyes set on you like a panther’s. He’s readier than ever. This goddamn robot stamina. Now he wants to fuck you up entirely.

„Make me cum… really hard, Baekhyun.“

„I’ll have you moaning and arching. Tell me what to do.“

„Remember I talked about some Special Request mixed with oral?“

„Very clearly,“ he nods, helping you get up from your back. „I got you.“

„Leave it at big as it is now. Not the full growth but almost there. Really give me a lot of cum, okay. Empty yourself into my throat. You can also fuck my mouth but keep it shallow. You can hold my head later on.“

„All as you like. Here,“ Baekhyun helps you guide the shaft between your expectant lips.

You suck at the tip, but your mouth doesn’t get very far down. The difference to Baekhyun’s smaller, adapted version is extreme to see, to touch, and taste. While you gobble the far end, a generous spurt of cum shoots into your throat already. It pools on your tongue before you swallow three times.

It tastes mild and sweet.

Maybe you’ve been eating too much cotton candy as of recently, but it does bear some resemblance to it. You shake the girth from one side of your mouth to the other, signalling Baekhyun to fill you again. More cum begins to appear, then burst at the roof of your mouth, and you don’t manage to hold in all of it. Thank God the towel is thick enough.

All the jizz expands on your tongue and you swallow faster, with Baekhyun leaking more of his cock milk. You decide to have some fun thrusting your head forward and have the whole thing explode against his loins and your lower face. With Baekhyun’s dick plunging into you deeper, the remaining cum flows past your lips and lands between either of your legs on the towel.

No wonder his balls do their pulsating thing. He has to keep up mixing and pumping everything out. His cock is now so perfectly slippery that you can glide your tongue around it in fast circles. The faster you go, the more his foreskin retracts, revealing the beautiful sturdy glans that provides you with another milky shot against the back of your throat. The mixture is smooth, allowing for an easy big swallow. For some reason, it’s almost like almond milk conditioner diluted with a bit of water.

Baekhyun adding little thrusts to each leaking makes you moan like a pervert. You suck and lick up every incoming bit of fluid properly until gulping it down. At this point, your entire stomach is a sea of white cream. Your mouth feels like it’s drowning in baby lotion, but without the obnoxious taste. Even now, you’re still not tired of bopping your head and blowing bubbles with the amounts of his sperm that gather around the middle of his cock. The more you get into the rhythm of moving your head, the more heated and loud you get.

Puckering your lips adds the right pressure, and you keep your jaw as wide a Baekhyun showed you earlier. The slicking, slurping and glucking noise of the suction is music to your ears. Him spilling out more liquid helps you glaze his length with warm icing now, and your speed is surprisingly high in doing so. You end up sinking your fingertips into Baekhyun’s shapely ass cheeks and hold onto his body like that while blowing him. You feel they are toned and soft at the same time, even more heavenly when you use your entire palms to hold them.

„Great, you’re doing great,“ Baekhyun wipes off a blotch of cum from his belly and lathers his cock up with it, careful not to disturb your mouth at work. „Do whatever comes to your mind.“

As if that praise was not enough, another rewarding fountain fizzes into your mouth. The vacuum from your tight lips resounds almost like a kissing noise. With another moan upcoming, you blurt out the majority of Baekhyun’s load. This time, his legs are the victim of your slobber, getting their first contact with his cum in dripping white stripes. It looks so hot. Looking at his ruined thighs with your saliva and milk on them makes your pussy throb several times.

In the meantime, your lips are left perfectly coated and big, clinging to the veiny surface slightly below Baekhyun’s tip. Especially your lower lip has gotten much plumper and picks up every relief on his dick. You love the sound of him thrusting in his shaft that is met with a little lake of cum at the farther end of your tongue. The more elegantly he helps you plunge in the tip, the better it stirs the fluid and leaves a nice caress at the top of your mouth and the inner corners of your lips. The taste is breathtaking. After swallowing for the seventh time now, you pop his dick from your mouth and distribute the remaining cum on your cheeks and temples by sliding his length all over your skin.

„That feels so good,“ you pat his cock all over your cheekbones, your forehead and the bridge of your nose. You even glide the tip of his cock against your browbone, tracing its lining and have a few little droplets of Baekhyun’s delicious milk dance stuck in your lashes. The fluid leaves your face feel cooled and soft. The matte silicone surface of his length is perfect enough to slowly glide under the guidance of your hand, massaging your face gently and slick.

And then, you get an idea.

„Hold your cock up for me. Maybe make it curve up a little,“ you instruct, take a few breaths to cool down. When Baekhyun is ready, you slide your right hand between your legs and head your mouth for his balls at the same time.

They really are like scoops of ice cream. Enough milk has distributed over them to make your attention of kisses, licks, feathery light bites and sucking very easy. Everything glides, and you love how they vibrate ever so slightly.

„Tell me I will feel this against my clit as often as possible, Baekhyun.“

„Every day if you want. I can make them buzz a little more than that as well. That goes for my cock, too.“

„What— Really! Please do it! And please, more cum…“

And they do. It must be the weirdest thing your lips and the tip of your nose have felt, ever. A million dancing ants start their party on your skin. Alternating between left and right, you give your mouth a proper ice cream feeding. Baekhyun’s cock vibrates along and produces another waterfall of sperm.

While you let the buzzing ripen up your lips with even more swelling, drops upon drops of cum add from above where Baekhyun holds his cock in an almost vertical position. Since its curve bends toward his stomach, that’s where more of his cum lands. You love to observe the milk trickle over the little veins of his loins, his lightly toned abs, and the perfect V shape of his pelvis. With every drop, you rub your clit to new heights and feel it become spongy. You’re so sensitive and wet that it’s harder to get your finger to the right spot, so you end up using three fingers at once.

Baekhyun glazing himself with all that luscious cum makes you want to lick him up whole. On the other hand, his oozing cock spills so much fluid that you don’t want any of it go to waste.

With the flicks of your index finger speeding up between your legs, you ask Baekhyun to stuff and thrust his cock back onto your tongue and provide you with a final wave of cum for good. He dusts over your lashes to remove the spray they took before, then diligently brings his palms around the back of your head. Baekhyun is so utterly careful and sensual in his expression that you have to groan and feel your pussy twitch. His pretty fingers fit so perfectly around the area under your high ponytail. Having his wrists ghost over your temples makes you want to come on the spot. Now that your head is softly locked safe, Baekhyun asks if he can start, earning the most eager nod.

„I won’t make you gag, I promise,“ he gives his fingers a final arrangement, laying flat on your hair.

You feel like you’re about to implode and already drive your head forward. Aided by the slip of your mouth, he pulls you onto his cock, driving in a bit more length. About a third of his cock gets in, and you feel only a slight bit of tension. Your lips close around him, but remain flexible, still. Your hand between your legs rubs faster. And faster. Your clit is begging for a second rush. By the time, your jaw has become perfectly loose and receptive, ready to take a pounding. You moan in frustration from all the suspense, and finally he begins fucking his monster dick into your skull. 

The girth stretches your lips and leaves your mouth completely stunned. Baekhyun properly angles himself into your head and showers you with complimenting little wows, then continues the speed and screwing until half of his dick pumps into your mouth. It’s pushing in and stimulates your lips with every thrust. The buzz is amazing. 

Your throat is perfectly accepting of Baekhyun’s tip. The vibrating stimulation at your tonsils sends excitement through your entire body. His cock is amazingly big, hot, and jittery. When he drills it into you with a little ‚your mouth… so soft… like cotton candy…’ under his breath, you can’t take it anymore.

When your rubs escalate and your pussy begins to contract, he blows up your mouth with an avalanche of extra sticky and flavorful cream. Unlike when he was pumping out the cum against his belly, his cock now powerfully empties in one go and overwhelms your tongue with taste. 

The portion is so huge and almost foamy. Now you’re filled double. Your leaking pussy, stuffed with his bubbling semen, and your mouth, rich with the potent vanilla taste. Your clit thumps hard with a series of twitches, about ten, eleven, twelve times, with another strong rub from your middle finger pushing it over the edge.

The load of cum bursting into your mouth is so large that your cheeks slowly bulge out a bit. Baekhyun holds his cock in place to help you keep it centered. A look at his hands alone is enough to fasten your rubs and make you feel your climax peak. Your eyes get large from the extremity of pleasure surging from your clit, having your body rock, making you yelp out and spill Baekhyun’s semen back over the pulsing curve of his dick. It’s so messy, but you don’t care.

He takes the opportunity to thrust back into your mouth in sync with the twitches of your pussy, blasting your way too impatient esophagus with more sputtering threads of hot milk. Your clit throbs even harder when you hear the wet noises your throat makes. Every thrust has you blowing out cum with stifled, slobbery gargling. Baekhyun penetrates you so well and won’t waste a milliliter of cum. It’s so thick and so good, and distributes so nicely every time he fucks it into your throat a little further. The vibration of his cock makes your tongue so swollen against the underside of his shaft and even more sensitive to how his cum feels.

Liquid satin, gliding so well down into your stomach that you wish he could penetrate, too. You slurp and gobble the last shots of cum, and enjoy Baekhyun’s thrusts feeding you his fully sperm-decorated cock. With your saliva flowing into the mix, the load gets perfectly blended and has you produce the nastiest sounds around the meaty base of his dick. You want to lap it all up, slather it all over you, bathe in it. He drenches your mouth completely. You swallow and swallow until he knows you’re feeling full and stops the flow.

You still try to suck the leftover liquid out of him until only drops remain on your tongue. A final swallow, and you lock eyes with Baekhyun who’s gently smiling and cupping your head.

„B—woah,“ you gush out, slipping your lips off his dick. You look down on your body and Baekhyun’s, finding your skins coated all sticky as if a pot of joghurt spilled all over your chests and legs.

The special request indeed leaves nothing left to be desired.

„Really incredible,“ Baekhyun says.

„Warm…,“ you lick your lips, and shake, move your tongue about to loosen it up. „And so much— Fuck!“

„Not a drop left. I’ll probably need half an hour to gather an amount like that again.“

„I want this all the time. This, this is so much fun.“

„Yes. You were really enjoying yourself. You look really beautiful.“

Probably really messy and funny with your drying lips and tousled ponytail. You have to chuckle.

„Brace yourself, Baekhyun. I hope you have enough hair ties prepared.“

Oh, it’s gonna be a ride.

After you settle your breath, Baekhyun goes about cleaning your face and neck, and bits of your chest. He has to get a third towel from the bathroom to get the job done, including rubbing himself down. As ruined as he looks, AndroTech has to send him into the fucking robo deep cleaning room or something if you keep this up.

Eventually, Baekhyun helps you up the same way he put you down on the sheets two hours ago. You coo to him, and he carries you to the bedroom softly humming. You feel a strange serenity. Protection. Baekhyun looks so sweet and calm. A warm feeling spreads across your abdomen, and you listen to your blood rush in your ears. He really got you going,. He offers a glass of water that you accept and nip at while he sorts his and your clothes, dumping all the towels into the laundry basket and switching off the living room lights afterwards.

Alongside carrying a paddle hair brush, he returns with your favorite strawberry bubblegum chapstick. He must have picked it up next to the washing machine in the bathroom. You keep a little shell-shaped metal bowl next to the basin where all your cosmetics are scattered in. How he knows that it’s your go-to lip product will remain another mystery, although you are sure he has a page-long analysis on it. 

After asking for your permission, Baekhyun applies it for you and makes sure to kiss you not once, but twice. He loosens the tie out of your hair and goes about brushing it, smoothing it. Lying down in your bed for the afterglow with the fairy lights on gets even better when Baekhyun offers his chest to lean against for dozing off.

Chapter 10: Pulling Out The Carrots

You wake up to the smell of waffles and cocoa coming from the kitchen. You sit up in bed. Feeling more gloriously fucked out than fucked up, actually. The floor, even if it’s still the exact same as before, feels different when you set your either foot on the ground. It’s not only your heel feeling at least a little better. It’s also the fact that it’s the ground of an apartment with two people in it.

Bothering to put on socks, you find that your closet has a new stack of clothes where Baekhyun normally sorts in his white vest. So Mr. Kim sent a new batch of attire for him as promised in the email you received last night. Seven sets of midnight blue, carnelian, and more white cuts of similar fabrics and varying shapes. Your closet looks strangely complemented with his clothes in it. Not to mention much tidier since he folded each and every piece.

Before you waddle to the bathroom, you check your phone and see an avalanche of shy emojis from Hwasa in your notifications. You did manage to send a little comment on the sofa before you went to bed.

„Guess whose car is fixed,“ Baekhyun sets a plate on the table. The whole kitchen sizzles and looks as if a restaurant chef just let a huge cloud of steam loose from his souffle in the oven. There’s juice, there’s blueberries, there’s syrup on the table. His smile is even brighter than it was yesterday.

„You gem!“

Falling around his neck makes Baekhyun laugh. You cling in the hug and pepper his forehead with kisses until the waffle machine bleeps.

„Dig in, princess,“ he stacks up three waffles on the plate, golden brown and drizzled with syrup.

„Sit down with me when the last one is done,“ you fork the top waffle, separating it into five hearts each. Crispy outside, vanilla-colored and juicy on the inside. Back in the day when he was still active, Gordon Ramsey couldn’t have done it any better. Baekhyun nods, now busy with a large blue bowl. He’s kept his smile and hums a little. The kitchen radio is playing in the background.

„And something else,“ he swipes the wooden spoon through the bowl. You realize what’s inside. He steps toward the table to masterfully place a generous amount of whipped cream on your stack of waffles.

„What was it?“

„I talked to Mister Lee.“

„You what?!“

With a clattering noise, your fork drops right back onto the plate. If the sweet scent in the kitchen didn’t fully wake you, then this definitely did.

„I first checked the databank as I said,“ Baekhyun puts down the bowl on the table and takes a seat opposite to you. „There was no record of him interacting with androids anywhere. He didn’t own one, nor did anyone else in his social environment or the area around here. Except you of course.“

„A—alright, and?“

Judging by Baekhyun’s picture-perfect appearance that doesn’t seem to sport a single scratch, at least Mr. Lee didn’t get out his golfing equipment then.

„I went over and met him on the porch while he was having his coffee. I introduced myself and asked about his garden.“

„His garden?“

„Mister Lee has taken up quite a bit of work with his vegetables,“ Baekhyun pours some orange juice from a jug into the chunky little glass in front of your plate. „He was busy with carrots yesterday.“

„What— What does that have to do with…?“

„He was huffing out loud because he couldn’t pull out a particularly large one.“

„That’s what I heard when we arrived?“

„Precisely you did.“ As if your jaw couldn’t hang any lower, now you’re also flooded with embarrassment.

„He was squatting right behind the large bush that blocks the view,“ Baekhyun continues. He said he didn’t even hear us arrive because he had headphones on.“

„Jesus, really?“

„I was already wondering why I didn’t notice any danger when we arrived at the house. You only heard the noise and made a conclusion. But actually, Mister Lee was in his own world.“

„Oh…“

„I helped him plug out the remaining carrots just half an hour ago. It was really easy. He gave me a few potatoes from his garden, too. I’ll make you fries for lunch today.“

„You really hear what you want to hear,“ you say to yourself out loud and start chugging the orange juice. Maybe moving into the underground tunnel system you’re planning to build for yourself to disappear from the face of this earth is still a very good idea.

„And don’t worry. I didn’t tell Mister Lee about your reaction. He doesn’t know about the misunderstanding. I just said I heard him shout in his garden and he readily explained what he was working on.“

„That was very sensible, Baekhyun. So I was accusing him for nothing, then.“

You bury your face in your palms. Goddammit.

„Mister Lee is as harmless and unbiased against bots as this waffle,“ Baekhyun points squarely at your plate.

„And I thought this would end up in a fistfight.“

„The funny thing is. Mister Lee said he used to be a boxer back in the 1980s and had muscles like I do. He was really amused how fast I was pulling out the carrots.“

„B-Boxer? Was he trying to intimidate you?“

Maybe you need to muster your rusty karate skills again. Who knows what Mister Lee was really up to. You didn’t know much about his family, but you’re sure a more detailed Internet search would reveal that his grandfather was indeed called Bruce.

„No worries,“ Baekhyun picks up the jar again, re-filling your juice. „He called me a dapper young gentleman and offered we could come over to have carrot cake at 4 PM. He says the house is a little empty since his grandkids moved to San Francisco. Mrs Lee is also looking forward to congratulate us. If you’re free after work?“

„They… invited us?!“

„In the most friendly way possible. And their potatoes are really huge. That’s going to be a lot of fries.“

Looks like Baekhyun has found your neighbors to be much more trustable than your paranoid robot gf brain. Before you can really deliberate whether to say yes or no, your intuition does the work for you and makes your strained jaw blab the words.

„I’m free, sure I—“

The doorbell rings twice, ripping you right out of your thought flow.

Baekhyun swiftly gets up. You already expect Hyuna or Chen with the latest gossip in town about your universally heard late-night moaning noises.

Setting up what feels like another Guinness world record, you stress-eat two waffles at once before readying yourself to get up, too. Another loss of face right around the corner but at least you have something in your stomach and Baekhyun’s beautifully cooked meal isn’t getting cold which would be the ultimate heresy.

To your relief, however, Baekhyun returns with—

A post box.

„Delivery for my princess,“ he chirps from the kitchen entrance. „Wow, it’s really heavy, too!“

„God, I’m a mess,“ you shake your head at yourself.

„Pardon?“

„Nothing, I just said it’s actually for the prince, you know.“

Your castle might be an outdated yellow house, but it has a creaking palace door and splendid clothing parlor. And pancakes for dinner. And the prince has a really big dick, so.

„For— me?“

„Yes, yes. If Mr. Kim can send you something nice, I can do that, too.“

There goes another portion of your salary but fuck it. You act as if you were puffing yourself up a little, with flared nostrils and a dandy eyebrow wiggle. A laughing Baekhyun uses his mere nails to loosen the tape from the packaging in one smooth go, and also doesn’t seem to extend any efforts prying it open. You’ve never seen anyone open a box this elegantly.

„That’s the kind of rivalry between creators I didn’t expect,“ he says. „I hope you’ll like the new clothes, by the way.“

You’re starting to get the hang of this whole bots-and-boredom thing. Keeping Baekhyun on his toes is paradoxically both less and more of a big deal than you thought but you’re working it out.

A note of calling your declared friendly rival Mr. Kim to ask him for a few more pointers is what you decidedly jot down on your own mental to-do list. He explicitly said that Baekhyun can very well explain himself, but getting some more insider knowledge to ambush Baekhyun with surprises doesn’t hurt. And whatever this kinetic learning thing is, you certainly need some more ideas from the source, too.

„You can model them after we return from eating cake.“

„Nothing I’ll love more,“ Baekhyun removes some of the crumpled up paper cushioning inside. Since the box is fairly big, it takes a bit until the content becomes apparent to him. Once he realizes what it is, Baekhyun’s eyes light up and he starts jumping up and down through the kitchen.

„It’s a pink clouds machine!“

boyfriend bot on ao3

NOTE: oof, that’s a big ole fic :D i hope you liked it. talk to me about baek 😭❤️ 

© submissive-bangtan 2017-2020. all rights reserved. reposts prohibited. portrayals are fictional and for entertainment purposes only.

[calaofnoldor]

Sixth Time’s the Charm [2]

Characters: Sam x F!Reader, Dean

Words: 2,139

Series Summary: All the times Dean has tried to get Sam to admit his feelings for you.

Chapter Summary: You’re injured and Sam is overprotective. Dean gets caught in the middle.

Warnings: protective moose, badass!reader, exasperated squirrel, mutual pining, idiots in love, slow burn, fluff

A/N: thank you for all the love and support on part 1! here's part 2 of a mini series that is essentially an amalgamation of all the jealous/protective tropes lol

← BACK UP | MASTERLIST | SERIES MASTERLIST

The second time was an accident, although that did nothing to lessen Sam’s resulting ire. It was the middle of November and the three of you had been hit with one case after another, giving you no time to recover from injuries and keeping everyone rather keyed up.

A stupid misstep during a wendigo chase had left you with a sprained ankle on the last hunt. Sam, being the modern Prince Charming kinda guy that he was, had carried you back to the car while you protested futilely within his solid arms, eventually giving up in favor of hiding your embarrassment in the crook of his neck, though that only made your foolish heart beat faster.

“Sam, I’m fine, seriously. It’s nothing! A bit of ice and I’ll be good to go. You don’t have to do this,” you had nearly begged after he set you down on your motel room bed. His proximity always made you nervous, but when it was just the two of you and he was taking care of you like this? It set your heart racing and left a bittersweet aftertaste in your soul.

“Y/N, would you just let me look at it?” Sam hadn’t meant to sound so snappy, but he was growing tired of you always pushing him away whenever he got too close. He figured you wanted to keep your distance, keep things platonic, and he could never blame you for protecting yourself, especially given his history with women, but he genuinely wanted to help you. Sam needed to make sure you were all right.

His irritable tone had shut you right up, so you simply nodded in consent. ‘Great, now I’m annoying him,’ you thought with a quiet sigh.

Sam tried to send you an apologetic smile, to show that he was simply worried, but you wouldn’t meet his eyes. ‘Great, now she hates me,’ he thought with a defeated sigh.

Choosing not to dwell on the lump in his throat, Sam quickly got to work, ever so gently removing your boot and then sock before rolling up your pant leg just enough to get a clear look. His capable hands and eyes meticulously examined your swollen ankle, turning it this way and that as you leaned back on your hands and shifted uncomfortably on your bum.

“Well, you were right, I don’t think it’s broken. Probably just a bad sprain. You should stay off it for a while though,” his magical kaleidoscope eyes peered up at you through thick lashes as rays of setting sunlight pierced through the only small window in the room and bounced off his cheekbones in ways that left you speechless once again.

You gulped, finding it impossible not to hold his gaze. “Right, thanks doc,” you whispered awkwardly after a beat, swiftly removing your leg from his hold, and rolling your pants back down.

And that had been that.

Now here you were a week later, discussing your plan for a possible witch hunt.

“So here’s what I’m thinking,” Dean started, “Sammy can go through the back door, and I’ll go in from the front, while Y/N keeps watch on the outside and-”

“Dude, what the hell?!” Sam’s sudden outburst surprised both you and Dean, as he slammed his laptop shut and raised both hands in question.

“What? What do you mean ‘what the hell’?” Dean shot back, completely perplexed.

“Dean! She has a bad ankle!” Sam’s voice was filled with an unrecognizable anger and his darkened eyes bored fiercely into Dean’s.

“Okayyy, and I put her on lookout duty…” the older Winchester repeated slowly, trying to suss out his brother’s mystical problem.

“Which means she’s gonna have to walk back and forth around the place, and if she sees something, she’s gonna have to run!” Sam accused his brother incredulously, gesturing wildly with his big hands.

Dean couldn’t hold back the dramatic eye roll that accompanied his sigh of disbelief. ‘Here we go again,’ he thought, wishing his baby brother would just man up and tell you how he felt instead of throwing these little tantrums.

Your jaw had been slack as you watched the entire exchange in bewilderment. Feeling a little bad for Dean, however, you decided to finally speak up, adjusting your voice to take on a soothing tone, “Sammy, I’m fine. Honestly, it’s feeling a lot better!” While that wasn’t exactly true, you weren’t sure you could handle another round of his huge yet gentle hands caressing your bare skin. “Besides, it’s not exactly unheard of to be on a job while you’re still a little battered and bruised; that’s just part of the life. I mean, you guys do it all the time!”

Sam turned to look at you for the first time since he’d started speaking, trying to ignore the whirl of butterflies that erupted in his stomach when you used the nickname that had been reserved for Dean only up until you came along (it always sounded so sweet coming out of your mouth, he could never find it in himself to correct you), so he could focus on his train of thought. “Yeah, but we don’t do things that’ll make our injuries worse. Y/N, you need to stay off that foot or it’s not gonna heal properly!”

“Look, Sam, I appreciate the concern. I really do, but I’ll be fine. I’ve had much worse and we need all hands on deck for this case.”

“Well, she ain’t wrong about that. This bitch has been tricky since the start,” Dean chimed in.

Sam flashed his brother a dangerous glare, the muscles in his jaw popping, before he turned back to you, “No. I’m sorry, but I think you’d be more help to us if you just stayed in the car.”

“No?” you questioned him with narrowed eyes. Sure, he was the most gorgeous man you’d ever laid eyes on, but that didn’t mean he could tell you what to do – especially not when it came to hunting, the one thing in which you were fully confident of your abilities.

Dean looked on with an amused smirk, glad he wasn’t the one about to get chewed out anymore.

“Sam, I know you mean well, but you don’t get to make that decision for me. That’s not how this works. I joined you two ‘cause we work well as a team. But that only holds if we all get equal say, if we all respect each other as hunters. I’m telling you that I can do this, and you need trust me.”

Sighing as he rubbed his temples, Sam stayed quiet for a moment while he pondered his response. He knew you were right. You were a total badass and he was painfully aware of it (there were times when a stand-alone part of his body was painfully aware of it as well), but still, he couldn’t resist the urge to protect you. Lately, it was becoming harder.

“I trust you, Y/N/N,” Dean cut in, breaking the silence, and then raising a brow at his brother.

Sam ran a large hand over the lower part of his face, nodding his head without looking at either of you, before rising to his feet and walking out abruptly.

Turning your head to stare after him with furrowed brows, you began uncertainly, “Should I…?” You sent Dean an inquiring glance in lieu of finishing your sentence.

“Nah, I got this. Kid’s probably just cranky after all these hunts. You just stay off that foot for as long as you can, make sure you’re good to go for later.”

You nodded as you watched Dean leave to find Sam. It was only a matter of minutes before you heard their loud voices travelling through the thin walls.

“Yeah, and whose fault is that?” You recognized Sam’s low and enraged voice immediately.

“Well maybe if you just told her!”

“Told her what, Dean?!”

That’s when things got quiet again.

After a moment of pause, you shook it off and went back to reviewing your research for the case in silence. As confused and curious as you were, you weren’t about to let your mood distract you from the perils that laid ahead. Like Dean said, this witch was tricky, and you needed to have the brothers’ backs.

It was two in the morning when the three of you finally managed to kill the bitch. The hunt turned out to be a team effort after all, with you saving the boys’ asses at the last minute. Your chest was heaving and your ankle throbbing, but you were satisfied with the job well done.

Sam watched as you slowly hobbled back to the car. He could tell that your limp had worsened, but he kept his mouth shut since he knew there was no way they could have done it without you. In fact, he wasn’t even sure if he and Dean would still be here without you, but seeing you in pain tore at his heart and made him wish things were somehow different, despite the overall positive outcome.

Dean clapped him on the shoulder, interrupting Sam’s thoughts and urging him forward with a tired grunt.

“I don’t know about you kids, but I am beat,” Dean looked over at you and Sam as he cut the engine twenty minutes later, “We good with staying another night and heading back tomorrow?”

“Yeah, that sounds good to me,” you agreed, climbing out the car and retreating to your room after bidding the brothers good night.

“Dude,” Dean’s head rolled heavily to the right when only he and Sam were left in the Impala, “Just go talk to her, will ya? You’re driving me nuts here.” He sent his brother an imploring look, a bit of Winchester telepathy.

There was a light knock on your door moments later. You swiped your gun but lowered it when you saw Sam’s hulking form through the peephole.

“Hey,” you greeted quietly after opening the door, keeping one hand on it to help steady yourself.

“Hey,” he echoed, “I just wanted to check on you.”

“Oh, thanks. I’m fine,” you lied easily, trying not to make it obvious that you were resting all your weight on your good leg.

But of course, Sam was much too shrewd for that, perceptive gaze flickering down to your feet right away, “Can I look at your ankle please?” the words rushed out of his mouth, and he was quick to add more before you had a chance to protest, “I swear, I’m not here to tell you off; I just want to help you. Please.”

It always amazed you how Sam could go from towering, ferocious hunter to bashful, adorable, man-boy so seamlessly. He was really stinking cute when he begged, and you could never say no to those puppy dog eyes, “Yeah, OK,” you muttered while backing up to let him all the way in, too exhausted to offer any form of resistance anyway.

You sat on the edge of your bed obediently, bending over to remove your shoes, but Sam was there kneeling beside you in an instant, waving your hands away. He unzipped your boot and slowly slipped it off your foot, careful not to rattle your ankle in the process, with one hand holding on firmly to your calf.

“I wanted to apologize,” he said as he repeated the process with your sock.

“What for?”

“For making you feel like I don’t respect you as a hunter, for making you believe I don’t trust you.” He was down to the compression wrap he’d picked up for you at a drugstore, with which he took extra care removing, keeping his movements slow and cautious. “None of that’s true; I just didn’t want you to hurt yourself more.”

You studied Sam in the pale light, drunk on the feeling of his hands on your skin, “I saved your ass though, didn’t I?”

That brought a chuckle to Sam’s lips, his hands still supporting the full weight of your lower leg as he prodded lightly at the bloated skin around your foot, “Well, the swelling’s definitely worse, but yeah, you did.”

“Then it was worth it. Your ass will always be worth it.”

Sam looked up at you and found himself getting lost in the truth within your eyes. There was a buzz of raw emotion vibrating through the air between you, and so many words came to his mind, but in the end, he settled on, “Come on, we gotta keep this foot elevated.” He then grabbed your waist and managed to move you up the bed in one smooth motion, “I’ll go get you some ice.”

You immediately missed his fingers and the way they had absentmindedly stroked your calf, staring wantonly at his back as he walked out the door.

→ CARRY ON

thank you so much for reading! feedback is scientifically proven to make me write faster! 💞

STTC TAG TEAM (let me know if you wanna be added or removed): @carryonmywaywardbucky​ @chaoticgremlinwholikescheese​ @gia-25​ @laurakirsten0502​ @matchesarelit​ @sams-sass​ @swiftlymoniquesblog​ @thinkinghardhardlythinking​

[wistfulrat]

this week is different shades of muggle draco — a wily little shit, secretly tender, devastatingly hot, lives to piss harry off. then, curse-breaker draco coming toe-to-toe with powerful!harry. all feat. lots of angsty sex and harry consistently being the last one to realize his big gay crush is quite serious. one braincell behavior. we luv him for it.

Clear As Mud by scoradh - 9k, M

Set post-war and post-Harry's-conscience... “You need cool, calculating bastards to save the world” —Thief of Time

post-war draco’s slummin it as a muggle. he lives in a shithole with unsavory roommates. scoradh establishes all these dynamics in the opening cellar-poker gambling scene and the tone/mood is so precise i want to yell. harry obviously Hates draco’s life even tho they’re lowkey fuck buddies. harry is a walking double (triple? quadruple?) standard. harry doesn’t know how to want draco without feeling guilty, resentful, possessive, confused, fragile. Malfoy inspired an incredible amount of self-doubt in Harry by doing nothing more than looking like he had enough confidence for three people and enough scathing put-downs for another five. ahhh!!! the assumption that draco isn’t equally insecure behind that veneer of unbotheredness. and later, the slow realization that harry doesn’t actually have to be ashamed of his wants. he’s allowed to like draco and fuck off into the sunset. as is ur right hrry!!

We Might Be Too Old for a Bildungsroman by @wellhalesbells​​ - 21k, T Harry finds something he’s been looking for since the war’s end. Admittedly, the packaging’s a bit odder than he expected.

auror partners harry and ron trouncing abt london for a case when they happen upon cafe-owner draco. draco who has lilac hair, edgy muggle best friends, and moonlights as a literal computer hacker. it’s a doozy. harry and ron assume the worst. and then they both kind of fall in love with this weird ass trio dynamic and everything that draco’s become since the war--protective, sly, smart as fuck, a little scary, and extremely capable. (calrissian18′s characterization is so elite goD). but it’s not as easy as being charmed by the novelty of it all. bc harry has unresolved beef with draco 2.0′s ability to just Move On and succeed bc ~fuckbois who were privileged shits~ shouldn't be allowed that, right? well, wrong. - “You’ve grown up,” Harry said. That’s what it was. Somehow Harry had never expected it to happen to Malfoy. He felt left behind, as he wasn’t quite sure it had happened to him yet. He’d hidden behind his job almost to be sure it hadn’t. Watching Malfoy though, it didn’t seem as scary as he’d once thought. Malfoy frowned, looking past Harry to the street below. “Unfortunate, isn’t it? It’s a shame, not seeing magic in the air anymore.” Harry didn’t think he meant that literally. “Instead there’s pollution and rubbish bins and manky strays.” Harry shook his head. “I was going to say the opposite. You’re better with your eyes all the way open.” - i'm obsessed with calrissian18′s titling of this fic for many reasons but mostly because it encapsulates harry and draco’s dilemma when they eventually have to confront the tension of their relationship. what’s a bildungsroman anyway? it’s the literary term for coming-of-age novels, for stories that chart the great shift from adolescence into adulthood. and in this fic’s context, it’s harry and draco saying we might be too old for an unexpected and thrilling change. we might be but, fuck, i hope not. 

heavyweight by warmfoothills  ( @forestgreenlesbian ) - 28k, E Draco had moved out of his childhood home five days after his father got sent to Azkaban. He’d packed up his rooms, piling up boxes until the walls were bare and his cupboards were empty and his arms were shaking because he’d done it all by hand instead of using magic. He’d barely used magic at all since his trial. Then he’d left everything there in the middle of his bedroom and apparated away with one case of clothes that his mother shrunk down enough to fit in his pocket.

in harry’s mind, it goes like this: draco gets to run away. harry doesn’t. so harry is incapable of leaving draco alone and he traces him down constantly. draco is pissed off that harry feels entitled to this invasion of his muggle-world attempt at becoming a different person. harry is pissed off that draco gets to somehow live detached from the mess that is post-war reconstruction. draco tells him to fuck off. “When have either of us ever been able to manage that, Malfoy?” --it’s a one-sided chase for a while, half-curiosity half-envy. harry is as eager as he is broody. draco doesn’t want to be desired against someone’s better judgment. warmfoothills is so great at capturing the contradictory nature of their friendship. it happens almost in spite of them, slow and stubborn. They eat salad with plastic forks sitting in Hyde Park and Draco feels something shift between them again. He wonders if they’ll ever stabilise. the entire fic is a catalogue of that shifting, of watching their angsty unarticulated yearning finally become a real, spoken thing. warmfoothills’ rooftop scene made me emo as hell. 

measures of our days and nights by @flimsi - 40k, E Draco returns to London to help the Ministry decipher a spell, but things aren’t quite as simple as they seem.

god i love a high-stakes plot with a chaotic emotional landscape and flimsy delivers! curse-breaking, magical theory, a life-threatening spell with the potential to kill a shit ton of people. hermione has to call on draco who’s been m.i.a for 5 yrs. and even though draco has become an altruistic, spell-unraveling, french-village dwelling swot, british wiz world still thinks draco is sus. enter in auror and lowkey unspeakable-liaison harry -- powerful and morally grey as shit. he and draco immediately get off on the wrong foot. their interactions are volatile and needy. they tentatively warm to each other but harry fucks up. draco is livid. and yet!! it’s in this wildly tense and desperate race against death that draws them together. Draco shook his head and let out a humorless laugh. “I don’t know how you do it.” It was answered by an equally empty laugh. “Neither do I,” Harry said. ah, what are 2 morose as fuck commiserating sad boys meant to do but fall in love!!

[bagelbright-tok]

Aspire To be

Hi honey!! I saw that your request were open and I had an idea. I really liked the imagine about Malcolm Bright and having an aunt. I was wondering if you could do more of that, but maybe this time Malcolm does know her and they actually like each other and maybe she helps him on a case instead or with Martin? If not it’s completely okay, I love your work tho!! Thanks sweets ❤❤

Requested By: @atjafshelby

__

A/N: Thank you so much for your support! I really appreciate your comments and request! That aunt fiction is one of my least popular fics. I hardly expected anyone to enjoy it and even be inspired by it! Again, thank you! I decided to do a similar thing I did for that last imagine. This is a one-shot and does not really correlate with any other Prodigal Son episode. Hope you enjoy! Thank you for your patience as well! I apologize if it seems sloppy at the end. I just wanted to get this out for you and tended to get sidetracked. _

Finally getting themselves a line of suspects for this crime, Malcolm realizes he might need more than his own profiling skills. Malcolm also has a person in mind who could help… Gil doesn’t agree with Malcolm’s decision, especially when the profiler’s mind has been altered recently. How could Malcolm Bright not go to the person that inspired him?

Malcolm Bright/Whitly x Aunt!Reader [Platonic]

Word Count: 3289 Warning(s): Mentions of murder, mind fog, insomnia, mentions of trauma, attempted murder, drug abuse, swearing, did not double check anything __

Some Good Things in Life __

“Whaddya got kid?” Gil nodded towards Malcolm, hands on hip, and a grin plastered on his already smug face. Gil was already confident in Malcolm’s ability. This would be a piece of cake for the profiler.

Malcolm shook his head. He was confused. This murder took two weeks to have suspects. Even then, they only had four suspects. There was something wrong, though. Malcolm couldn’t get a read on any of them. Their tones and words led Malcolm to many different directions. Malcolm also did not have the right state of mind, having skipped almost a week’s worth of sleep. “Nothing..”

Even he was surprised by his incompetence.

Gil lightly extended his head out towards Malcolm, eyes wide and mouth agape. “What?” He crossed his arms and returned his head to his shoulders. Gil’s eyebrows were now knitted together in concern and were no longer widened. “What do you mean?”

“I… I can’t get a read on them.” Malcolm finally admitted, his shoulders falling down in defeat. He left out a deep sigh and brought his hands to his eyes to rub. Why couldn’t he think straight? “It’s like my mind is just- just covered in fog.” Malcolm motioned to his head, wildly using his index of his right hand to press into his temple.

Gil sighed, looked down at the floor, and unfolded his arms. Taking a few steps towards the NYPD Profiler, Gil placed his hand on Malcolm’s shoulder. “Go home, kid. It’s late and you need to sleep.” Gil was always the father figure that Malcolm needed. Malcolm understood the lieutenant’s concern, but couldn’t help not sleeping. Especially as of late.

Malcolm couldn’t say no. He shrugged his shoulder and peered into Gil’s eyes with his own tired and hazy blue ones. He nodded lightly, closing his mouth and shaping it into a half smile. “Alright..”

*** And with that, the insomniac ventured restlessly to his humble abode. Despite his hazy mind, he drove himself back to his place. On the way over, going through New York’s evening traffic, Malcolm had an idea. Recklessly, he pulled out his phone and scrolled through his contacts until he reached who he wanted. Tapping and putting the phone up to his ear, waiting for them to answer, he shook his leg anxiously. “Hello?” The voice came through, asking curiously.

“Hey! Long time no talk.” Malcolm was smiling, but the person on the other end couldn’t possibly see it. However, it was obvious that they could hear his happiness to be talking to them. “Malcolm? Hey! Where the hell did you disappear to?” They chuckled. “Thought there was a new Bermuda triangle only taking the cool people.” They stated sarcastically.

Malcolm laughed at their joke, shaking his head. “No. I actually got back in New York a couple of weeks ago. Sorry I forgot to tell you.” Malcolm cleared his throat and before the person on the other end of the call could respond, he continued. “Anyways, I could use some help…” “O-Oh? Help? Of course, what do you need?” Malcolm could hear them move from one spot to another. “Some… Some advice. You are still a body language specialist, right?” “Yeah. Need me to do some interrogating?” They chuckled, joking.

“Uh- Yes. Yes, actually..”

“Oh-”

“Could you meet me at my place? I’ll send you the address. If you get there before me, you can let yourself in. There’s a spare key buried in the plant outside.” Malcolm explained, stopping at yet another red light. Traffic had been bad due to another accident happening nearby.

“Of course!” It was obvious that Malcolm and this person were besties and hadn’t encountered one another in a long while. “I’ll get my bag and head out once I have the address.” “Thank you, so much. I’ll see you in a bit.” Malcolm gave a quite breathy chuckle. “Cya!” And with that, the call ended. Malcolm felt a little better. His mood improved, for sure. Malcolm’s shoulders were no longer held up but instead were slouched down. His neutral and tired face was now a happier tired face. Malcolm took note of how he would just have to tell Gil when he got home that he’d be getting some help. Help from someone they both knew. ***

Damn this headache. Malcolm could feel a dull pain in his head as he entered his home. Despite the pain being dull, he felt it making him weaker and even slightly dizzy. Malcolm simply shook the pain away and shut the door behind him. He tried to reach the door, but couldn’t. When he looked behind himself to see why, the door was already shut. His eyes burrowed in confusion. Again, he shook away the confusion and began to text Gil about what he was doing. Now, though, Malcolm couldn’t just shake off whatever was happening to him. He felt nauseous and he felt out of breath. He tried getting back to his phone to call Gil instead. Malcolm instead found that his vision had blurred. He blinked and blinked, even rubbed his eyes, but his blurred vision only got worse. He began to panic now. Something was definitely wrong. Malcolm tried to identify what could be going on, but still, his mind was elsewhere. Malcolm could barely even hear as someone entered his home.

“Malcolm?” The familiar voice could barely be heard as it echoed in his house and in his head. “Malcolm!”

This exclamatory statement of his name was not that of excitement. It was of concern, confusion, and despair. As far as Malcolm knew, he was standing. As far as his visitor was concerned, he was on the ground, unconscious. ***

“What did you do?” Gil asked angrily and accusatorily. He pointed at [Y/N], who responded by leaning back away from his finger. “Me?! Excuse you. I called an ambulance! Maybe next time, I shouldn’t?” [Y/N] argued back, leaning forward into Gil’s finger and raising her hands to her sides, palms up and fingers spread out. Her face was scrunched with anger. Her usual glowing and calm [E/C] orbs were now burning a hole into Gil. Her graying [H/C] hair was standing up due to the sheer frustration she was feeling. This wouldn’t be the first time someone accused her of something horrific due to her past. [Y/N] Bright [L/N]. Also known as [Y/N] Whitly, younger sister to Dr. Martin Whitly. In other words, Malcolm’s favorite aunt and the individual he had called for help in the case. The lady that had found him unconscious in his own home and called authorities. It was because of [Y/N] that Malcolm was in a hospital and not dead. It wasn’t just Gil there for Malcolm, there was also Jessica and Ainsley. Jessica had refused to talk to [Y/N], she never understood how or why Malcolm had taken a favorability to her. Ainsley wasn’t anything but rude to her, and made it clear she did not like her. Summary; All of [Y/N]’s fans were gathered in one place where they were called in an emergency because someone dear to them had almost died. “What were you even doing in Malcolm’s place?” Ainsley’s hollow eyes stared at [Y/N] with pure hatred. Like someone with unlimited darts, trying to get a high score.

“He called me to come over. Sent me his address and told me about the spare key in some weird ass plant outside his place.” [Y/N] swiftly explained herself, keeping her arms open. Her feet however, were closed and pointing away from both Gil and Ainsley. She really did not want to be there, being questioned. “He wanted me to help with some interrogating.”

“You-?” Gil erected his index again at [Y/N], now eyes widened in disbelief. “You’re the help Malcolm called for?” “Why would anyone go to you for help?” “I feel extremely uncomfortable right now!” [Y/N] declared, slapping her hands down to her sides. “I am just here to help with whatever Malcolm needs!” “Just drop it you three!” Jessica finally whisper yelled at them. “My son could have died and you are worried about-.. Her.”

The disdain in her voice as she referred to [Y/N] really set it in for the body language specialist. Nothing she could say would make them think any better of her. Not even if Malcolm were to explain the same thing she did. So, [Y/N] easily decided it would be easier to just sit down and give up the arguing. She felt like a kid once again, forced to keep quiet when faced with authority. She hated it. Gil would never allow for her to help unless Malcolm really made a good pitch to the lieutenant. Then again, when would Malcolm wake up? *** Malcolm was given a diagnosis fairly quickly. Carbon Monoxide poisoning that had been going on for over a week. It was a miracle he had gone so long without anyone noticing the symptoms. Despite the supposed long sleep he was to be put under, Malcolm found a way to wake himself up with his own brain. Waking up with a loud scream as a nurse ran out to get a doctor, and Gil and [Y/N] rushed in with concern. “Malcolm!” Both older individuals shouted at the once unconscious profiler. While the relief was mutual, so was the concern.

“Gil? [Y/N]? Where am I? What happened? How-” Malcolm was confused but mostly scared as well. One moment he was home and the next he was isolated by white walls and repetitive beeping.

[Y/N] made the first move. She steadily and smoothly moved closer to Malcolm’s bedside. She took a deep and obvious breath, straightening her back and lifting her hands with her as she inhaled. A similar action was taken during the exhale; obvious, she lowered herself back onto her feet, and lowered her hands. Although Malcolm was not having a panic attack, it could escalate and [Y/N] wasn’t having it. Gil followed afterwards. Malcolm mimicked [Y/N] in taking deep breaths and calming down. “Are you okay, Malcolm?” [Y/N] asked in a calmer voice.

“Yeah. I mean, I feel okay.” Malcolm buried his face into his hands. “Was I poisoned?”

With his brain working fine, he was able to remember his symptoms. It was unnatural.

“Yeah, in a sense.” Gil responded this time. “A week long exposure to carbon monoxide.”

“A week?” Malcolm removed his hands from his face and peered at Gil and [Y/N]. “Isn’t that around the time this case started?”

Now both Gil and [Y/N] were horrified. What was thought to be an accident, a simple leak in the home, now was a potential case of attempted murder. Whoever was the murderer in their case, knew Malcolm would be a problem and so tried removing him as an obstacle. [Y/N] and Gil took a glance at each other. Despite their… awkward relationship, they knew they had to work together on this one. Malcolm couldn’t leave the hospital, and couldn’t work on the case. His life was in danger and the safest place would be where he was.

***

“I’ll be keeping a close eye on you.” Gil told [Y/N] with a threatening tone.

“Why not two?” [Y/N] chuckled, entering the observation room sat right next to the interview room. Gil just gave a harsh squint. “Not a time for jokes, got it.”

“It was hard to get the suspects back. We’d released them last night because we had them held for too long.” Gil changed the subject swiftly, viewing into the room where they had the suspects. “We were only able to get them back in because Malcolm almost died last night, when he released them all.”

“It’s clear that all of them are upset that they are back. No profiling is needed for that.” [Y/N] noted this behaviour. “All of them are anxious and nervous. Crossed arms, tapping feet, rapid blinking.”

“All of them are suspicious?” Gil pondered curiously.

“Not necessarily. They are just nervous about being back. The idea of being falsely accused looms over them.” [Y/N] continued to scan the room, finally noticing some odd behaviour. She pointed at a man slightly separated from everyone else. “He, however, is a lot more confident than everyone else.”

“His arms are crossed too.” Gil pointed out, looking at [Y/N] with suspicion.

“Yes, but he is leaning against the wall. He is more relaxed. His lips are slightly parted, unlike everyone else’s compressed or pursed lips.” [Y/N] began her analyzing out loud, forgetting anyone was in the room. “His breathing patterns are very alike to everyone’s. Their breathings are picked up due to their nervousness. His picked up pace is because of excitement, though.”

“He’s leaning against a wall. How in the hell did you get all of that off of him?” Gil was just as curious as he would be if it were Malcolm profiling. It was just as mind boggling as when he profiled Carter Berkhead.

“A magician never reveals his secrets, Gil.” [Y/N] chuckled. “Was Malcolm in the interrogation room when they were all interrogated?”

“Yeah. He wanted to be close to profile.” Gil answered, not as confused now knowing that every question and answer would help.

“Splendid. This will make it far easier.” [Y/N]’s [E/C] orbs glimmered in amusement. Her smile was one that Gil had seen before. It was Malcolm’s smile, but it was one he’d seen on Martin’s face too. “I need you to repeat what you did yesterday. Question them in the same order with the same questions.”

Gil nodded. Just as he was warming up to her, some thought came in and set him back to his place. First and foremost, officers came and rounded everyone up. The interrogation began again. This time, it was just Dani, JT, and Gil. Malcolm wasn’t there. If [Y/N] was correct, the one she was suspect of most would give off more of a reaction than the others. Answers would likely remain the same from each person as well. They all want to get out as soon as possible. If Malcolm’s current profile was correct, the killer was arrogant and would show it. If the killer saw that Malcolm wasn’t there, they’d have some sort of mention or bodily reaction to this.

In the case scenario that she was wrong, [Y/N] was sure to make note of everyone’s reactions. Most did not even acknowledge Malcolm’s absence. Their moods had remained the same, anxious and nervous. Finally, it came to the man that [Y/N] came to know as James Lukai. Most of his answers remain the same, worded slightly different than before. [Y/N] compared his last interview, to this interview. The first showcased this man as nervous and anxious. Now, he wasn’t as much anymore. He looked around, as if to make sure his suspicions were right. He gave a quick smirk when he saw that Malcolm wasn’t there. His answers had remained mostly the same, but the tone had drastically changed. It was clear as night and day, it was this man. Just to prove a point further, [Y/N] straightened herself out and left the observation room. Much to Gil’s dismay, she entered the interrogation room afterwards.

“Heya Gil! Sorry I’m late. The call to replace Malcolm was just too soon!” [Y/N] announced with a large grin on her face.

Gil looked at [Y/N], only to respond by rubbing his face. “Don’t let it happen again.” He played along.

The man in question- James- was now shocked. “I thought you didn’t have a profiler anymore.”

“And what would make you say that, James?” [Y/N] immediately jumped on it. “Malcolm is just taking a little break. Family business.”

“What? He-?” James caught himself before he could say anything more.

“You’re too obvious, James.” [Y/N]’s smile immediately dropped.

“What’re you doing, [Y/N]” Gil questioned, only to get an answer through the raising of the lady’s hand to silence him.

“Want to know how we know, James?” [Y/N] confidently asked, not waiting a moment for his answer. “You are far too confident for this. You thought you had gotten rid of Malcolm, the only one who would have caught you.”

The man was speechless. He was caught. He rested his elbows on the table and put his hands through his brown hair. He was hunched, unsure of what to say now.

“What the fuck did you just do?” Gil wasn’t angry, but just extremely confused.

“Caught the bad guy. My job, Gil.” As confident as before, she exited the room.

Soon after, James confessed to the murders and the attempt on Malcolm’s life. Another day saved by [Y/N] Bright [L/N].

***

“Did you get him?” Was the first thing to exit Malcolm’s mouth that night when [Y/N] went to visit him. Fortunately for Malcolm, he had gotten the all clear, so was able to return home.

“Nice to see you too.” [Y/N] chuckled, entering his home. “Yeah. It was obvious. That poisoning really fucked with your brain if you couldn’t see it.”

“Speaking of which, the place was aired out and my heater was fixed.” Malcolm shut his door. “Inspectors had a nifty device and gave the okay.”

“That’s great!” [Y/N] clapped her hands together. “You plan on trying to get murdered again any time soon?”

Malcolm chuckled again, and sat down at his counter. “Ah, no. I don’t plan on it.”

“Good. Shouldn’t have to attend your funeral when I’m older than you.” [Y/N] glided over and sat with him at the counter. “So- Malcolm Bright. When did you change your name?”

Malcolm gave a small, “oh,” and nodded his head. “Several years back when I went to Quantico. You know, to become a profiler..”

Though [Y/N] knew the story, Malcolm felt obligated to tell her how much she inspired him.

“Couldn’t think of a name until the lady there suggested going with someone who I aspire to be. Then I remembered.. You.” His smile was soft and genuine.

“Really?” She smiled back, surprised by her effect on Malcolm. “I.. I’d never guessed I’d have that sort of influence.”

“I hardly say this, but you’re probably one of the more normal and stable members of this family.” Malcolm gave a light laugh, instigating a laugh from [Y/N] as well. “You prove to me that there are some good things in life.”

“I think there is more than just me that does that, Malcolm.” [Y/N] smirked. “You have all those folk at the NYPD! You have Gil, Dani, JT, and Edrisa.”

“Of course. They’re my friends. I trust them.” Malcolm explained. “But you were the first. You helped a lot when Dr. Whitly was arrested. I still remember that day. Even when mother yelled at you, it didn’t stop you from helping me.”

[Y/N] could only nod lightly. “Yeah, Yeah.. I- I remember that day too. I remember the days before and after that day too. I felt like I had to apologize for my brother. He couldn’t be there, so I tried to be. But Jessica never had a good opinion on me, even before Martin was arrested.” She chuckled at that sentiment. “Then Gil got caught up in all the gossip that I had something to do with Martin. At least Jess was skeptical towards all of that.”

It was dead silent after that until Malcolm decided to clear the air. “Anyways, you want some water, or something?”

“Sure!”

Boy. What an odd and bizarre family.

___ E N D

A/N: So sorry for taking so long! Hope you enjoyed it. I had a bit of a hard time trying to get an end for it. Sorry if it is abrupt.

[quazartranslates]

Welcome to the Nightmare Game II - CH50

**This is an edited machine translation. For more information, please [click here]**

[<<< Previous Chapter | Table of Contents | Next Chapter >>>]

-----

Chapter 50: Purgatory Reunion (II) {cw: misgendering}

Qi Leren slept for eight hours, and when he was woken up by the alarm clock, he roughly pressed it off, wishing to close his eyes and fall back into the darkness of sleep.

His head was still aching, and the blood vessels near his temples were throbbing, making Qi Leren wonder if they were going to burst open. As well, his body felt uncomfortable. It was like he had been curled up in a narrow box all night, and none of his parts were intact.

This shouldn't be. When he was training with Chen Baiqi before, he’d woken up alive and kicking. Why was he so tired this time?

Away from the borders of the Village of Dusk, the outside world changed between day and night. Now it was morning, and warm sunlight shone through the window pane. Qi Leren sat up and stretched, and his bones made a frightening crack sound, startling him.

"You up? Come and have breakfast, then," the Illusionist said with a dull tone from behind the curtain.

Qi Leren got up and took two pieces of bread coated with jam from the Illusionist: "How long before we can get to the Underground Ant City?"

"Landing in three hours, then walking into the Dragon Ant Queen’s sphere of influence. If it goes well, it will take two days," said the Illusionist lazily.

"It’ll take that long?" Qi Leren was in a hurry. Today was the 25th day since completing the Holy City task. In the game, Ning Zhou had been on the 29th day when...

Even if they crossed the desert smoothly, that would leave him with only two days!

In the huge Underground Ant City, amidst the vast crowd of people, this was too little time.

Fortunately... Fortunately, he wasn’t without any leads.

Qi Leren recalled the information gathered from the game and his dream. He knew where the flowing red magma was. It was a lake of fire in the depths of Purgatory. Legend had it that it was a projection in the human world of Hell’s own lake of fire. On the last day of Ning Zhou's life, he would be there...

Qi Leren couldn't think. When he thought about Ning Zhou, his mind would become blank from the uncontrollable fear. He didn't dare to think about what kind of mood Ning Zhou was in as he was gradually awakening to his demonic power. He didn’t dare to think about how whose death had led to this. He didn’t dare to think about whether he was full of disappointment and despondency with the world at the last moment of his life, and whether he... whether he remembered his dead lover?

Qi Leren tried to find a reason for why Ning Zhou still lingered in this world. He had suffered too much in his life: his only relative had died long ago, and his lover whom he had not yet had time to confess to was buried in the Holy City. His holy land had exiled him and no longer recognized his piety, and even his last faith could not be preserved—he became the devil he hated most.

Perhaps for the present Ning Zhou, death was a relief.

"Hey," the Illusionist suddenly called.

Qi Leren turned to look at him: "What is it?"

The Illusionist looked at him with a strange and slightly disgusted expression: "Your expression just now… I really can't stand it."

Saying this, he exaggeratedly rubbed his arms.

Qi Leren: ???

"I think being in love is too hard for you. It's better to be single than to chase after your husband to Purgatory." The Illusionist, dressed as a professional woman, pushed the women's glasses up the bridge of his nose as he spoke.

"It's good to be single, but what's the difference between being single and being widowed?" Qi Leren said. In the days before he’d met Ning Zhou, he had lived very well. If he hadn't met Ning Zhou, this kind of life could be regarded as happiness. But after meeting Ning Zhou, he missed him, and he couldn't let go for the rest of his life.

The Illusionist felt that he had been gloated to.

Qi Leren couldn't feel the Illusionist’s resentment. He continued to flip through the information about the Underground Ant City. When he saw something he questioned, he asked, "’The Dragon Ant Queen’s field.’ Is the Underground Ant City also a field?"

"Oh, yes, it's the same as the Village of Dusk... You don't know, do you?" The Illusionist gave him a disdainful oblique look.

In fact, Qi Leren, who had only learned about this during the last copy, could avoid making a fool of himself. He calmly asked, "I know, but why are the Village of Dusk and the Village of Dawn so similar? Is it because the original force of these two fields are both time?"

The Illusionist changed his expression and asked angrily, "You know too much. Who told you that? Chen Baiqi? She shouldn’t know this information."

"It wasn’t her." Qi Leren knew that Chen Baiqi didn't have this information. When she had learned that Su He came from the Village of Dawn, she’d respected him.

"Don't ask, this isn’t something you should know," the Illusionist said, glancing at him.

Qi Leren still has a lot of questions, but the Illusionist stated that he wouldn’t reveal any information to him, so he had to forget about it. The two people then talked about some things about the Underground Ant City: there was the Dragon Ant Queen's sphere of influence—although it was also a field, it was not a normal field. The dragon ant queen was not an individual person, but a name passed down from generation to generation.

Every Dragon Ant Queen would choose her successor after she grew old, and pass on the Underground Ant City’s field to the next one through a special means. This inherited field was different from other fields, and had natural defects inside it.

In the ancient legend, the original Underground Ant City was created by a group of queens who had led their people. In the giant cave deep within the Sea of Tranquility desert, there was a natural gap between the two worlds, which connected the underworld and the human world. However, the seal was still firm at that time, and most demons could not pass through this gap. Only the dragon ants gnawed through the gap with their own talents and were able to move between the two worlds.

The demon queens, who had been excluded by the underworld, were very satisfied with this underground cave which had accumulated water for millions of years. They led their people to settle here and decided to create the glory of dragon ants here.

The initial establishment was very difficult, but they soon gained a firm foothold. Once the external crisis was lifted, the queens began to fight cruelly for power. Finally, a powerful queen killed her competitors and became the Dragon Ant Queen.

After the first Dragon Ant Queen ascended to the throne, she led the dragon ant demons to expand wildly, and brought the Sea of Tranquility desert’s parish under the demons’ rule. This move angered the Holy See, which surrounded this group of unscrupulous demons. Finally, the Dragon Ant Queen decided to retreat back to the underground of the Sea of Tranquility desert—a huge underground cave with an underground network extending in all directions, just like ants' nests.

The wonderful thing was that the entrance to this nest was narrow and led straight down. The army couldn't enter here without having to parachute down at the mouth of the cave. This terrain blocked the Holy See and allowed this group of demons to thrive in this area.

After weighing the losses, the Holy See decided to give up the encirclement and suppression, and the two sides signed a peace treaty. The Dragon Ant Queen promised not to slaughter human beings, and to never leave the Underground Ant City’s sphere of influence, and ensured that all intelligent life such as human beings and demons would be treated equally in the Underground Ant City.

So this time, the small-scale conflict subsided. Before the death of the first Dragon Ant Queen, she passed on her field to her successor in a way that has not yet been declassified. Since then, the Dragon Ant Queens had passed on this ancient field in the same way. Until 22 years ago—when the first war of demons invading the human world had broken out, and the Destroyer led the demon army to break through the gap between the two worlds and come to the peaceful and rich human world...

"The Dragon Ant Queen is still alive?" Qi Leren asked, looking through the information.

"Yeah, but she's almost dead," the Illusionist said.

"Generally speaking, the Dragon Ant Queen represents the neutral force among demons, which is determined by her original force... But the Dragon Ant Queen has an obvious tendentiousness..." Qi Leren said. His eyes fell on a certain line of words in the data, and she looked at it for a long time.

"She’s a follower of the Lord of Destruction, but her own strength is contradictory to him. We also don’t know why she would follow a Devil King who was contrary to her own original force. Maybe the new Dragon Ant Queen will change her allegiance. After all, 'power' is the most worthy for 'order' to follow," said the Illusionist.

It was no secret that the Dragon Ant Queen’s original force was quite neutral, and could even be assumed to be on the side of the holy camp, because she represented "order".

However, even though this demon’s original force was order, she had followed the Destroyer without hesitation more than 20 years ago.

Qi Leren still knew little about "original force". Before he left, Chen Baiqi had given him an urgent remedial lesson, but couldn’t say too much because of the limited time. He only knew that the precondition for field condensation was to condense a half field, and before half field condensation, he had to find his own original force first.

Qi Leren was very lucky. Although he had had a narrow escape… No, he really had died once, but at the moment before his death, he had found his original force and received the law’s reward, which pulled him back from the edge of death.

This power was called "rebirth".

Thinking carefully, he had actually been reborn countless times. Every time he saved and loaded S/L Data, he was reborn. Otherwise, how could he explain the countless tombstones on the Undead Island? Those tombstones were born perhaps because every time, he really was "dead", but he was born again and returned to the moment he had saved.

In this regard, Chen Baiqi said to him: "The door to the new world has been opened to you. Take a peek at the magic of the other side from the gap. It’s great luck to see the wonder of that realm with your own eyes, because most people are too weak to push this unique door open."

Qi Leren could read a kind of faint loss and melancholy from her face. He couldn't help but wonder about Chen Baiqi's experience of condensing a half field only to break it. When she stepped up that step, how high-spirited was she? How painful had it been when she fell down? And Ning Zhou... His half field was also broken.

Was it different? Once upon a time, Qi Leren hadn't even thought about it.

He had always felt that he was a very ordinary person, with the advantages and disadvantages of ordinary people, and that human weakness and compromise are equally indispensable to him. He didn't have much initiative, and he didn't want to make a huge leap, but just wanted to live his life in an ordinary way.

If he had stayed in the real world, maybe this ordinary and mediocre ideal could be realized, but here…

It was doomed to be impossible.

"What if… What if I say I want to push this door open?" Qi Leren had suddenly asked.

Chen Baiqi paused for a cigarette, and the flame of the match shone a little light in her hand blocking the wind, which lit up her slender eyebrows. As if she had seen him for the first time, this woman carefully examined his expression. Qi Leren looked at her without shying away, eager to get an answer from her mouth.

"Oh, why?" Chen Baiqi asked.

Qi Leren laughed, firm, but shy, and his earnest eyes seemed to shine.

"Because I want to protect him."

-----

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[giftofwonder]

The Tomb (Dabi x f!Reader) - Part Three

WARNINGS: NSFW 18+. Smut.

TAGLIST: @mikasackrmann @missalicebaskerville @liitlesushi @bonemarroww @jamaisvusbitch @winchescumberholland @mira-mirach @babayaga67

You had been so focused on his words, you hadn’t realized you had already reached the river. There were a few woman standing naked, waist deep in the cold water, washing clothes.

“Give your dress to them, they’ll clean it for you.” Dabi said, as he handed you a coin to give to them as well.

You did as he said, pulling your dress up to keep it dry, and walked to the women.

One of them took your dress and coin, and you smiled in thanks. Her hand softly grabbed your arm before you could turn away, her eyes flickering toward Dabi before returning to you.

“Be careful of that man,” She spoke so softly you almost couldn’t hear her, “All is not as it appears.” She warned.

“What do you mean?” You whispered back, confused and concerned.

“He will trick you, try to make you trust him...dont.” Her voice still soft, but stern as her knowing eyes urged you to believe her. You nodded your head and she released you, and you made your way back to land. Dabi stood watching the sky, his posture relaxed, but turned his attention to you when he heard you approach.

He held his hand out, which you took, and he pulled you from the water with ease. He lead you over to sit in the shade of the trees. Dabi still had a hold of your hand, which you didn’t mind, save for the woman’s words that you were still mulling over in your mind. His thumb traced circles over your knuckles as your hands sat atop his thigh.

“What is your family like?” He asked suddenly, breaking your train of thoughts. You sighed and looked up to the sky.

“They’re difficult, but I love them. My parents fell in love when they were young. They got married and had my brother. Things were really good. Then I was born and financially, it was stressful for them. My father found a good job but it kept him away most of the time. Mom was overwhelmed with both of us. My parents fought a lot back then.

While dad was away, he met a woman and fell in love. He sent divorce papers to my mother in the mail. She was heartbroken, but I don’t think she was surprised. My brother moved to live closer to my father and my mom remarried and had two more children. I was sort of forgotten. My brother was always the favorite of the two of us and my mom was busy with her two new children. I was still a teen then.” You said with a sigh as you thought back on the past.

You had always been interested in history, and when all of that was going on, you can places all of your focus on it. Learning all of the secrets of the past. It kept you occupied, everyone had so much going on so it was easier to just stay out of the way.

“Then I went to college, I earned scholarships to pay my way into school, and when I finished my studies, I got my first job. I still talk to my parents here and there, but I work a lot and spend most of my time traveling. They’re usually good people though, and I know that they love me.” You finished with a small smile, relaxing back into the tree.

Dabi looked at you with a brow raised. “What about a husband and children?” He asked.

You laughed. “As nice as that would be, I don’t know if I’m cut out for that. I’m gone a lot, always working and traveling. A family takes a lot of time. I’ve got a team of people depending on me right now. I’m usually their only source of income. If I had to give it up, I’d be the reason they couldn’t feed their families.” You frowned and sighed. Dabi regarded your words and nodded. You looked at him and found his eyes on you.

“What about you?” You asked after a moment.

“It never really crossed my mind. I was too focused on my goals.” He said.

“Do you regret it?” You asked quietly, before you could think to stop yourself. It was something that was always in the back of your mind. Would you regret it if you didn’t have a family, if you just kept working. You could never decide and so you always felt stuck, continuing on without making a change because it was all you knew. It was safe.

“Sometimes,” he sighed, “The league was all that I had. It was lonely, and I wondered what it would have felt like to have something different. To fall in love and be a father. If I would have been better than my father was.” He thought aloud.

“But even if I had wanted to, look at me. No one would want to wake up next to this.” He finished with a bitter laugh, and you could see the raw look that flashed through his eyes. The honesty. His statement wasn’t some ploy, it was how he truly thought of himself.

You squeezed his hand, saddened by his words. The scars were harsh. They were intimidating. But they didn’t make him unworthy of love. You found them beautiful in a way, they told a story. His story. Who he is and the challenges he faced. Those stories are marked in his skin, his strength and will to survive forever visible.

“Don’t say that, if you had taken a different path, I’m sure you would have found someone who would have loved you. All of you.” You said, your voice a whisper.

Dabi shook his head, his eyes facing forward staring at nothing.

“You’re delusional.” He spat.

“I’m serious!” You huffed. His head rolled towards you, his eyes unreadable.

“Be honest, doll, could you love someone like me?” He said in a hushed tone.

Dabi took in your wide eyes and the blush creeping up on your face. As you opened your mouth to answer, he cut you off, knowing that no matter what you said, he couldn’t handle hearing it.

“Enough about that. Our clothes are ready.” He said standing up and walking back to the river. You scrambled to get up and jogged after him. Once you got your clothes, along with another look from the woman in the river, he led you back to his home. He was quiet for the rest of the night.

You had helped him make dinner, and briefly talked, but not much was said. His mood was sour and so he kept to himself.

__________________________________________

Over the next week, things continued the same. You would wake up wrapped around him, and you could swear you felt his hands roaming your body during the night. You would eat and bathe together. He would show you the city, let you explore and follow you as you studied everything around you. You asked questions, many questions, about the people, about customs there was little information on, and about his past.

He told you the league was a group with a set of ideals that rejected the way society was ran. Those in power were corrupt, they held too much control and many suffered at their hands. Everyone loved them but they were poison, they couldn’t see how evil they were. How unworthy they were of their positions in both life and in people’s hearts. So his group expanded, and soon a war began. A struggle for power to be at the top. A lot of innocent blood was spilled by his hands, but it was unavoidable. Many at the top had fallen. The league took control of several territories and their numbers continued to grow. Dabi was at the top. Powerful, feared, and respected by his men. He instructed them on how to create his tomb. A way to cheat the afterlife, being his own judge.

His final battle, he faced his brother and father. At first they didn’t even recognize him. He said they were shocked that he was alive, to see what he had become. Dabi took the life of his father, finally getting his revenge, before his brother killed him.

The story itself left you speechless. It sounded like a large battle, but you’d never heard anything about it. It wasn’t mentioned anywhere, and you wondered why.

The night he finished telling you that story, you had cried for him and held him. He led you to bed but sleep never came to you.

__________________________________________

It was the morning, three days before you had to return back to your world. You had slept peacefully with Dabi’s warmth protecting you from the cold night.

Dabi’s skin against yours felt good, and you knew when you left that you would miss it, so you allowed yourself to let go. The thoughts of wearing a tunic to bed long gone from your mind.

As you came out of your dreams, the first thing you noticed was the weight on your chest.

Your eyes slowly opened to find Dabi with his face resting between your breasts, and the rest of his body between your legs. He snored lightly, and his hair stuck up wildly. You smiled and ran your hand through his hair, and he grunted while he lightly bit the skin of your breast.

His head twisted up to look at you, a tired smile stretching across his face. You rolled your eyes at his antics but grinned back.

He lifted himself over you, leaning his head down to place a kiss between your breasts and then dragged his lips up to your collar bone, grazing his teeth against it.

You bit your lip as your breath shuddered out in surprise.

He crawled forward over you, then reached a hand back to grip your thigh and pull them further apart so that he could settle between them, flush against you.

You could feel how hard he was, his member pushed to lay between your lips. His hips lazily rocked, dragging the head of his cock against your clit slowly. You let out a moan as your hips lifted, adding a pleasurable pressure.

His lips kissed along your neck, biting and sucking as he went. One of his arms was bent by your head to brace himself, the other hand traveled, squeezing your breasts and pinching your nipples.

“Do you want this?” His husky voice asked against your skin.

Your mind stopped for a moment. You considered the words of the old woman at the river and Dabi’s admission of his past deeds. Dabi had spent his life being hated and feared, and he carried it with him even in death. There was a part of you that was afraid, knowing if you let him have you now, he would likely have you forever, even when you parted ways for good. He would leave his mark on you, an imprint burned into you that you would never be rid of. You had considered that in all of the fear, no one had ever really known Dabi. He had bared his soul to you. Allowed himself to be vulnerable. You didn’t know what you felt, but you knew that whatever it was, it consumed your entire being. Did you want this?

“Yes.” You answered back with a breathy moan.

He pulled his head up to look at you, as if he was searching for a lie. His eyes were clouded with lust. He leaned forward, his lips brushing against yours softly.

“Are you sure?” He spoke against them.

“Yes, please...I want you.” You said, your voice barely a whisper. You pressed your lips against his, catching his bottom lip between yours and sliding your tongue across it. You rocked your hips against his with force, causing a groan to leave him.

He pulled back, just for a second as his eyes bore into yours, and then his lips were on yours once more. The kiss was messy and passionate. His teeth nipped at your lips and his tongue explored every crevice in your mouth. His hand left your breast and he grabbed himself, rubbing the tip through your folds to lubricate it. He brought it up and rubbed it forcefully against your clit, drawing loud moans from you as your hips bucked against him.

He pulled his lips from yours and let his mouth settle at your breast, his lips ghosting across the skin. His eyes were vibrant as his tongue peeked out, gently tracing across your hardened nipple.

He switched between both of your breasts, sucking on your skin and leaving hickeys as he went. His teeth bit and pulled at your nipples roughly, and the head of his cock rubbed faster against you. You cried out, the pleasure overwhelming. Your head was thrown back with your eyes closed. You could feel the heat pooling in your stomach, your arousal at its peak.

Your hands wrapped around Dabi, one in his hair to press him against your breast, the other wrapped around his upper arm, your hand squeezing with every wave of pleasure.

He shifted his hips, allowing his tip to rub against your entrance. He pushed just the head inside and then moved his hand up to rub your clit quickly. His hips rocked, his tip sliding in and out of you at a slow pace.

You pushed your hips forward, desperate for him to fill you. To feel him deep inside of you.

“So eager, so wet for me.” He mused, as he pulled his face back up to face yours. His hand pulled away from your clit and he held it in front of you, fingers glistening.

“You’ll be good for me right?” He whispered, his eyes dark. You supposed you should be worried by the look he was giving you, but you only found yourself more aroused.

You nodded, your glossy eyes watching him.

“I’ll be good.” You moaned out, feeling him press himself a little deeper inside of you.

His grin was twisted as he put his fingers to your lips, rubbing your wetness against them. You opened your mouth and he pressed them inside. Your tongue slid over and in between them, sucking as you went. Dabi pressed them farther into your mouth while thrusting deeper in your pussy.

You moaned around his fingers and felt yourself clenching harder on his dick. He bit his lip and sheathed himself fully inside you, holding himself there as his fingers pushed deeper in your throat. You gagged as they pressed into the back of your tongue. Your eyes burning with tears.

His eyes watched you like a hawk, his lips still pulled into a devilish grin.

He started to grind his hips against you while we was bottomed out, and his fingers pushed again, dipping to the back of your throat. Your hips jerked against him as you gagged, and finally his fingers retreated.

When just the tips of his index and middle finger remained between your teeth, he spread them, whispering for you to keep your mouth open.

You complied eagerly as his hips pulled back and slammed into you.

“That’s it, baby. Stick your tongue out for me.” He said, his breathing heavy and his voice low.

You stuck your tongue out, leaving it there as his hips snapped harder and faster against you. Your moans grew louder, and then he was pinching and twisting your nipple, making your back arch off of the mattress. He leaned closer, his mouth hovering just above yours. He gripped your tongue between his teeth, biting and dragging his teeth along it.

He pulled back, releasing your tongue and spit in your mouth.

If your mind wasn’t so consumed by lust, you’d have been disgusted, but with him buried inside of you, all you could do was whimper. You felt yourself tighten against him and he grunted.

“You like that huh?” He said as he pulled your hips higher, tilting them so he could reach even deeper inside of you.

You left your tongue out and mouth open, nodding to his question as his spit was still sliding down your tongue.

He reached down as he rubbed your clit again, making you whine. He told you to swallow as his hand gripped your throat tightly.

“Fuck, that’s my girl.” He said as he kissed you.

You were in heaven, and the thought of staying in the afterlife with him resurfaced in your mind.

He pulled himself from you and you shivered at both the feeling of being empty, and the cool morning air now caressing you.

He stood on the mattress, his legs parted.

“Get on your knees.” He ordered, and you were quick to comply. His foot parted your legs to spread them further.

“Touch yourself” he said as he wrapped his hand in your hair, pulling you to his cock.

Your fingers parted your lips and rubbed your clit, trying to do it the same as he had. Nothing had ever felt as good as him. You opened your mouth and he pushed his length in.

Your tongue slid against him, and you closed your lips around him, tasting yourself on his skin.

His grip in your hair tightened as he forced your head still, and then he began thrusting into your mouth. His pace picked up, and he pushed himself deeper. You gagged around him, your throat burning. Drool dripped from your lips onto your chest as you were unable to swallow, and tears fell from your eyes.

“Look at you, so pretty with my cock down your throat.”

Your fingers moved faster against yourself and you moaned around him, making him throw his head back. He pushed himself deep into your throat and held himself there, your nose resting in his public hair.

He pulled out abruptly and shoved you backward. He walked to stand above your head, facing the length of your body that was now flat against the mattress, and then he lowered himself, his knees resting above your shoulders as he kneeled over you.

His hips lowered and you tilted your head back to take him into your mouth again.

Your legs parted farther as you fingered yourself. He watched you, rubbing his hands along your sides as he thrust harder and deeper into your mouth.

His sack rested your nose as he buried himself in your throat, cutting off your air supply. His hands went back to your breasts and he ground his hips into your face.

He pulled back and you gasped for breath before he did it again. You sucked and licked his length, your hips lifting and legs trembling as your climax neared.

He leaned forward, ripping your hand from yourself and you whined around him. He pressed harder against your mouth, moving his hips again, as you sucked in air.

Your arms wrapped around his thighs, bracing yourself. His body leaned forward, his mouth dipping to your sex, licking and sucking your clit. He was rough, but it felt so good. His teeth gripped your clit. It was almost painful, but the pleasure outweighed it and was sending you over the edge.

Your grip on his hips tightened as you pulled him deep into your throat again. His hips rocked without pulling back, and you felt your lungs begging for air while your vision was starting to waver. His hand slapped against your cunt as you cried out around him, and then with one final harsh suck on your clit, you were gone.

If it wasn’t for him restricting your airway, you would have screamed from the intensity of your orgasm.

He pulled himself up, and you gasped for breath, your limbs twitching.

He grabbed you and flipped you onto your stomach, then grabbed your hips, lifting your ass in the air. Your upper half was flat to the mattress, no energy to hold yourself up.

“You want me to fuck you?” He asked, rubbing his tip at your entrance.

“Yes!” You moaned, pushing your hips back, getting a hard slap on your ass in return.

“You want me to cum in you?”

He pushed his tip in and out, teasing you as you moaned out another yes.

“Beg me for it.” You could hear the grin in his voice at the demand. And so you did. You pleaded for him desperately.

He rammed his length into you, bottoming out. His thrusts were fast and hard. His grip on your hips was bruising as he pulled them back to meet every thrust. You could tell from the tremble in his hands and his labored breathing that he was close.

His thrusts got sloppy and his rhythm was broken. He pulled you against him and you started to grind subconsciously as he released, filling you.

He held still for a moment, then pulled himself out. You fell flat onto the bed, feeling his cum leak out of you as he fell to lay at your side, his arm draped over you as he caught his breath.

You tried to keep your eyes open, to stay awake for just a little longer, but the exhaustion and warmth from his body broke any resistance you had, and within moments you had fallen asleep. Dabi looked over your sleeping form, a gentle smile on his face. He leaned over to place a kiss on your forehead, and then laid back and allowed himself to dream as well.

[downondilaudid]

Reality Check

Spencer gets tired of readers reckless behavior, and finally gives her a little reality check.

Requested: Yes

Prompts: My life motto is fuck bitches, get money blow cash.(This is a inspired by a line from the song ODD by Hey Voilet) & That’s not even factual

Word Count: 4.6K

Warnings: SMUT, LIKE PRETTY ROUGH SHIT

“Talk is cheap, but actions are priceless.”

― Green Monk

You wouldn’t necessarily consider yourself reckless, per se, just a little wild. It was a surprising turn of events when you and Spencer ended up together, his teammates had thought you would be nothing more than a fling, someone to keep his bed warm while he was gone. Yet, you had been together for a year and a half now and had been living together for five months. 

Despite the two of you being opposites, you worked together beautifully, you easily complemented each other. Your wild nature allowed Spencer to relax, and enjoy the simplicities of life. While his sophisticated way of thinking forced you to use your head a little more, and consider the consequences of your actions. You loved Spencer, and he loved you, it was just hard sometimes, seeing the world through different eyes. 

“C’mon Spence, please?” You pleaded, your hand latching into his arm to try and get his attention. 

“I really need to work on this, Y/N” he mumbled absentmindedly, pulling his arm from your grasp, and writing something on a notepad. 

“Spencer! You’ve been working on this all night, please take a break.” You shifted so you were standing behind him, wrapping your arms around him, and laying your head lightly against his shoulder. 

He let out a mix between a sigh and a groan, and you could feel the vibration of it through his back. “I need to finish this, Y/N, watching you get drunk, and then having to drag you home, doesn’t sound like a break.” 

You scoffed, “suit yourself, babes.” You pushed off of him, leaving the room to go get ready.

The music pounded in your ears, and the bass rattled your drink against the table. You were already quite tipsy, but for the first time, you weren’t a happy drunk. You guess you were what people call, a sad drunk. 

You stirred your straw around your drink absentmindedly. “Y/N! Come dance with me! Please?” One of your friends questioned. 

Right as you opened your mouth to deny her, the unforgettable intro to Gas Pedal by Sage the Gemini sounded through the club. It was like a switch had been flipped inside you, suddenly you were on your feet. Grabbing her hand, you dragged her to the dance floor. 

She laughed at your change in mood, “yes!”

You laughed along, the both of you staring at each other and in sync screaming, “h-h-h-h-holy shit!” 

This was good, it was good for you to forget, to throw away all the problems of life, and get drunk off your ass. 

Which is how you, and your two girlfriends you had gone out with, ended up stumbling down the street, the club long forgotten. 

The three of you laughed and giggled, talking about anything and everything that popped into your drunken minds. 

“Ooooh! We should prank call someone.” Your friend shouted rather loudly. 

You laughed at her, “totally, we could prank Spencer, he was a dick to me earlier. He didn’t even want to come out with us!” You exclaimed, your hands gesturing wildly, and your speech slightly slurred. 

The girls gasped, both talking over each other, screaming about how boring and annoying he was. 

“I know!” You cried, pulling out your phone to call Spencer. 

You hit the call button, putting the phone on speaker, and hushing the giggling girls. 

“Y/N?” A voice asked through the phone. 

“How did you know it was me?” You asked, a look of bewilderment crossing your face. 

Your friends laughed harder, one of them reaching out to smack you on the arm, “you forgot to block your caller ID, idiot!”

“Oops” you giggled.

“Y/N, where the hell are you? It’s one in the morning.” Spencer questioned angrily. 

Another laugh escaped your mouth, at this point, everything just seemed funny to you. You looked around the dark street, nothing looked familiar. 

“Do you guys know where we are?” You questioned. 

A scoff came from the phone, “are you fucking serious?” 

The girls giggled one of them letting out a childish “oooh! Someone's in trouble!” The two of them turned leaning on each other as they walked away, letting you have your privacy. 

“We were at a club, I’m just not sure where we are now.” You giggled. 

“Which club?” Spencer questioned, his tone authoritative, like a disappointed parent.

You combed through your brain for the answer, “uh…”

Spencer let out a deep sigh, and you could imagine him running his hands angrily through his hair. “You can’t keep doing this, Y/N.” You could hear the sound of a car door opening, and you assumed he was coming to find you.

“Actually, I can do whatever I want, it’s my life. And, my life motto is fuck bitches, get money, blow cash.” Anger bubbled in your stomach, who did he think he was telling you what to do?

“Y/N look around you, what do you see?” Spencer asked, ignoring your comment.

“Hmm…” you trailed off, giggling before you finished your sentence, “my two bitches over there!” You hollered, pointing towards your friends, who laughed at your antics. “The fat stacks in my purse, and the club we just passed where I paid way too much for drinks!” 

“Y/N, I swear to God…” Spencer muttered. 

“C’mon Spence, let me live a little! What are the odds of something bad happening to me? Like, none. I’m with my friends, having fun. Something you seem to never do.” You snapped. 

Spencer let out an angry huff, “first of all, that’s not even factual, second, you need to tell me where you are. Or, I’m going to call Garcia, and have her track your phone.” 

Well, damn. Your eyes squinted, trying to read the blue street sign. “Uh… Briar, Brian Ln.” You laughed, “what the hell does Ln. mean?” 

“Dear God, lane, Y/N, it means lane,” Spencer grunted. You could tell he was tired of your shit.

Luckily for him, the cool night air nipping at your exposed skin began to sober you up. You heard the phone hang up, right as a familiar car pulled up next to you. 

You watched as a very pissed off Spencer leaned over from the driver's seat, pushing open the passenger side door. You looked to your friends, who were jokingly saluting you like it was the last time they would see you. “Good luck! We’re catching an Uber! Call us if you live!” 

You let out one last laugh before clambering messily into the car, roughly shutting the door, and buckling your seatbelt. Spencer remained quiet, his large hands gripping the steering wheel, and his knuckles turning white. You would be lying if you said the sight wasn’t hot, Spencer was always hot, but, angry Spencer was hot.

The rest of the ride was silent, despite your efforts to try and “jam to some music” Spencer smacked your hand away from the radio every time! It was like he wanted you to sit here in the horrible silence. 

As soon as the apartment door closed, the exhaustion washed over you, your limbs felt ten times heavier, and all you wanted to do was sleep. You immediately began your walk to the bathroom to lazily brush your teeth and wash the makeup from your face. 

“Oh, so we’re not going to talk about it?” Spencer said, his voice rising slightly. 

“Spencer, be quiet, it’s two in the morning.” You groaned out quietly, wiping the last of the makeup from your eyes so you didn’t look like a rabid raccoon. You threw the makeup wipe into the trash, moving past Spencer and into your bedroom.

An angry scoff left his mouth, “seriously?” He followed you out, his eyes glaring holes in the back of your head.

You rolled your eyes, stripping from your dress and opening Spencer’s closet to grab one of his old shirts. “Yes, what do you want me to say? Sorry for having fun?” You slipped the soft fabric over your head, turning around to crawl into bed. 

“Please, Spence, we’ll talk about it tomorrow, I’m drunk and tired.” You grumbled, your frazzled mind struggling to pull back the comforter correctly. 

Spencer sighed, your actions proving your words, he leaned over, roughly yanking down the comforter for you, “fine.” 

You closed your eyes, listening to the sounds of Spencer getting ready for bed. He slipped under the covers, turning his back to you. The only reason he did so was because he knew you couldn’t fall asleep unless you were facing him. Something in you wanted his face to be the last thing you saw at night and the first thing you saw in the morning. Despite his petty actions, the alcohol in your system put you to sleep anyways. 

                                                            … 

You groaned, rolling over onto your side, tugging the warm comforter with you. “Seriously?” Spencer questioned, yanking the comforter back, causing you to roll back onto your other side. 

“I need an Advil.” You muttered, squinting slightly to try and block out the sunlight streaming in through the window. 

“Why the hell did you get so drunk, Y/N?” He sat up slightly, the comforter sliding down his bare chest. 

You scoffed, rolling your eyes, “you think I remember? I’m just as clueless as you.” You pushed the comforter off your body, deciding to leave the warmth of the bed for a bathroom break and some Advil. 

Spencer followed suit, standing in the doorway of the bathroom, “Y/N you got lost, you were wandering the streets alone and drunk!” 

“I’m sorry, I guess.” You mumbled, your speech slightly distorted as you began brushing your teeth, fighting off the nauseous feeling in your stomach. 

“You guess? Y/N, you have no idea how worried I was!” Spencer cried, his hands gesturing wildly as he took a step closer to you. 

You set your toothbrush back in its stand, “mhm, the same worry I feel when you overwork yourself 24/7.” You remarked, turning to face him with your arms crossed over your chest. 

“That’s different, Y/N! You’re being idiotic, reckless, and immature. I was doing my job.” He spat, spinning on his heel and storming out of the bathroom. 

You sighed angrily, continuing to get ready. You knew he was right, you were being immature. Maybe you had let your friends sway you too much, you just wanted to forget Spencer for a night. You hated seeing him so stressed, it broke your heart, and now you were the cause of that stress. 

Walking out of the bathroom and into the living room you were met with the sight of Spencer once again hunched over his desk, pencil in hand. 

‘Wow, didn’t expect that one.” You muttered sarcastically, walking into the open kitchen, searching the cabinets for Advil. 

“Just like I should’ve known you would go out and get wasted with your friends. Seriously, Y/N, what’s it going to take for you to learn you have to grow up?” Spencer slammed his pencil down angrily. 

“Why are we even together if I’m too immature for you, huh?” You growled, watching as Spencer angrily stood from his chair, stalking over to you. 

Spencer’s hands found your hips, roughly shoving you against the counter, his body pressed against yours. 

You felt his hand trail up your back, leaving goosebumps in its wake. “Because, unlike most guys,” his hand laced into your hair, giving it a sharp tug so you were forced to look up at him, “I know how to handle brats like you.” He finished. 

A cheeky smile grew on your face, this wasn’t how you imagined this conversation going, but you weren’t complaining. 

Spencer chuckled, “oh you think you’re so cute, don’t you?”

Your teeth dug into your bottom lip, his condescending words casting a new atmosphere in the room. 

“You’re so quiet now, baby, you weren’t so quiet a minute ago.” His voice was low and as smooth as honey. 

A giggle left your mouth, “well, if I talk, will you shut me up?” 

Spencer grinned, his grip on your hair loosening, “I think I have a few ideas.” 

“I’d love to see them” your hands started a path up his chest, wrapping your arms loosely around his neck. 

“I bet you would.” He said, and in an instant, he was gone, he had stepped back and was already walking back to the bedroom. 

“Spencer!” You cried, stomping after him like a child who had just been put in timeout. 

“Calm down, I’m just getting something.” He said, digging through his work satchel. 

You rolled your eyes, your bratty nature getting the best of you, “well you better hurry, or I’ll just take care of myself.” 

Your statement sent Spencer into a fit of laughs, and your face scrunched in confusion. “Y-you really don’t know when to quit, do you?” He said between laughs. 

“And you’re saying I’m the immature one?” At that moment, all you wanted was for him to fuck the shit out of you, but, apparently, that was not on his agenda.

He walked over to you, much like a predator would to its prey, slow and deliberately. “Just shut up and fu-shit!” You cried out in the middle of your sentence, as he roughly grabbed your arm, spinning you around and pinning you to the wall. 

“You’re telling me to shut up? All you’re doing is back talking, and I’m sick of it.” He growled out.

You squirmed in his grip, “then maybe you should stop being an asshole!” His hand grabbed your other arm, yanking it behind your back, “ow, Spencer! Jesus.” Then the faint clinking of metal filled your ears, and chills covered your arms as the cool metal clamped around your wrists.

“Did you just fucking cuff me, Spencer?” You screamed, trying to turn to face him. Surprisingly, he allowed you to, in fact, his hands moved to your hips, helping you.

But the second you faced him, his hand was wrapped around your neck, tight enough to restrict your speech. “I did, in case you can’t tell, you’ve been an absolute brat the past few days. And if you want to go out and act like a whore, I’ll treat you like one.” A primal look washed over his eyes, he wanted to break you, to humiliate you into submission. 

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head, your mouth falling open in a silent scream. Spencer chuckled, “oh, you really are a whore. You like it when I choke you, huh?” 

His hand pushed back on your neck, shoving you back into the wall, watching as you collapsed into a heap on the floor. You gasped for air, squirming as the handcuffs dug uncomfortably into your back. 

Spencer’s hands went to his belt, unbuckling it quickly, “get on your knees, sweetheart.” His voice was soft and gentle, probably because he just choked you and threw you against a wall.

You complied, shifting onto your knees with minimal struggle, despite the restraint of your arms. “Good girl.” Spencer praised, pushing his pants and boxers down thighs, his hard cock springing free. 

Your eyes widened, you were shocked at how hard this had made him, sure, you had always had this Dom/Sub dynamic, but you had never been this rough before. 

His hand wrapped around his length, giving it a few good pumps. His other hand wrapped your hair in a makeshift ponytail, using it to drag your head towards his cock. “Open, baby.” 

Your jaw fell open, his cock filling your mouth, and your lips puckered around him, sucking lightly at the tip. “Oh no, baby, I’m going to fuck your mouth, and you’re going to sit there and let me.” 

He pushed down harder against the back of your head, driving his cock further past your lips. You squirmed, gagging slightly as he hit the back of your throat, you tried to pull back for some air, but his hand just pushed your head down further. “That's it, such a good whore” he groaned out.

You took shallow breaths in through your nose, trying your best to relax your throat to take him in further. Tears welled in your eyes, and you tried to pull back once more. Spencer let out a mix of a groan and a chuckle, “no, no, you wanted to act like a whore, you’re going to take it like a whore.” 

He pulled back, groaning as your tongue ran over the vein on the underside of his cock, “God, yes, there you go.” He pushed back in, this time pulling back faster, setting a rough pace. You gagged again, more tears falling down your face, mixing with the saliva escaping your mouth. 

“Shit, that feels good.” Your eyes flickered up to Spencer's face, just in time to watch him lean his head back with a groan. The sight alone caused you to moan around his cock. “Oh, God” he moaned, his hand pushing your head down one last time, as he stilled, his cock twitching lightly in your mouth, spilling his hot cum. 

The sight of him coming undone before you had you moaning around his shaft, milking his orgasm. “Fuck” he breathed out, his chest heaving. You swallowed around him, trying to control your gag reflex as he pulled your head off of his cock.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” he said, his voice once again soft and soothing, his hands wrapped around your shoulders, helping you to your feet. 

“Please, Spencer, please” you begged. 

Then the soft tone in his voice was gone, replaced with a low condescending tone, “please, what? You want me to make breakfast? Or maybe you want me to go back to working?” 

“No, no, no, no” you begged, taking a shaky step towards him, “please, just fuck me.” Your voice came out harsher than expected, albeit still horse from the abuse on your throat. 

Spencer’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, a short scoff leaving his mouth, “wow, and here I was thinking you had learned your lesson.” 

“No!” You cried, before correcting yourself, “no, I mean no, please fuck me, I’m sorry.” You could feel your arousal soaking through your panties.

“Hmm… much better. Get on the bed.” He stated, turning towards the bed, he clambered on, laying down in the middle, his cock once again hard, and standing at attention.

“B-but, I can’t, not without my arms.” You whined you could only imagine how much of a mess you looked like, drool and tears all over your face, along with your disheveled hair. 

You watched as Spencer’s hand wrapped around his cock, stroking leisurely, “that’s a shame, I guess you won’t get to ride me.” He sent you a smirk, watching as you struggled to walk to the bed, the bastard was enjoying this so much. He was addicted to the sight of you, no longer reckless, but more wrecked. Completely at his will. 

You fell face forward onto the bed, squirming to try and climb onto it. “How cute.” Spencer voiced, sitting up slightly, his hands wrapped around your biceps, and in one swift tug, he had pulled you onto the bed. “There you go.”

His hands helped you onto your knees, helping you to straddle him. He pulled your panties to the side with one hand, the other spreading your wetness around your folds. He hummed in approval, “almost seems like you’re enjoying this” he teased. 

You whined at the friction, your hips grinding down against his hand. He pulled his hand back, reaching down to grab his cock. He lined it up with your entrance, slipping the head in. You both groaned at the feeling, your head falling back in pure bliss. His hands moved to your hips, yanking you down fully onto his length. 

“Oh, God, fuck yes.” You moaned, your head leaning forward this time, your hair falling in your face. 

Spencer’s hands left your hips, folding behind his head, “if you want to cum so bad, you can do it yourself.” 

You swear your jaw fell to the floor, and the tears that once filled your eyes came flooding back. “No, please, Spence, please fuck me, please.” Despite your words, your hips began to rock into his, lifting slightly only to crash back down on his cock. 

He groaned lightly, his eyes closing in pleasure, “you were acting like a whore, you’ll cum like a whore.” 

“Ugh, shit.” You moaned out, your hips working faster. 

“Yes, baby, there you go. Make yourself cum on my cock.” Spencer said through gritted teeth.

Your thighs began to burn, and you knew you couldn’t carry on much longer. You quickened your pace, desperately chasing your orgasm. 

“Fuck, such a good whore, my little whore.” Spencer praised, his voice strained with lust. 

The burning became too much, and exhaustion hit your body like a train. You collapsed forward, burying your face in Spencer’s neck. “Please, fuck me, please, Spence. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’ll be good, I promise.” You sobbed, your fresh tears falling onto his shoulder. 

“Alright, baby, it’s okay.” He unfolded his hands from behind his head, running them up and down your back soothingly. His hands ran down to your hips, lifting you off of him. “C’mon baby, we’re not done yet, I know you can take it.” He cooed softly.

You pulled your head back, biting down harshly on your lip, you nodded your head, not trusting your voice. “You’re such a pretty girl, and all for me,” Spencer said, his hand coming up to trail over your face affectionately, and you subconsciously leaned into his touch. 

“Okay, up.” He said, landing a soft tap to your backside. You giggled lightly. He helped you off of him, and before you could relish in how gentle he was, it was gone. He shoved your face forward into the bed, and you let out a sharp yelp. 

The low gravelly tone was back in his voice as he spoke, “You’re such a pathetic little mess for me.” He had moved behind you, his hard cock grinding against your clothed ass.

You turned your face to the side so you could breathe, muttering out a, “please, Spencer, I won’t do it again, I promise.”

His finger hooked in your panties, pulling them to the side, and with one swift motion, he had slammed his cock into you. You screeched, eyes crossing, and mouth falling open. “Fuck, yes! Fuck, me.”

Spencer’s pace was relentless, pounding into you, skin slapping against skin obscenely. He practically growled from behind you, and his hand reached up, latching onto the handcuffs. He pulled you back onto him with each thrust. 

You yelped, your wrists ached, and they would definitely be bruised, but the pleasure was too good to tell him to stop. Plus, you doubted he would listen. “Fuck, fuck, Spencer.” You muttered, the tension building in your stomach. 

“C-can I cum, please? Please, please?” You begged, drool sliding from the corner of your mouth. 

“Cum, cum, whore,” Spencer demanded. 

You let out a loud cry, panting as your orgasm coursed through you. Your thighs clamped together, and you cunt clenched around Spencer’s cock. Your back arched further, pressing your breasts into the mattress. 

Spencer continued his pace, crashing into you with everything he had. “F-fuck, shit, Y/N, so good.” He stuttered. 

At this point you were an incoherent mess, your mind was clouded, all you could focus on was the feeling of Spencer’s cock dragging against your walls. 

“Spence, please, I won’t do it again, I promise.” You begged, you couldn’t tell if you were begging him to stop or continue. 

He chuckled through a groan, “your right, you won’t do it again,” one of his hands reached around, placing itself on your stomach. He could feel the bulge his cock created every time he thrust into you, “you won’t do it again, because I’m going to cum in you.” 

The one-sentence had you spasming around his cock again, moans, and whimpers leaving your mouth. “You won’t be able to go out and drink with your stupid friends if you’re nine months pregnant, bitch.” He gritted out, finally stilling inside you, letting his cum fill you up.

The feeling alone sent you into one last orgasm, your body trembling, and a constant flow of tears cascading down your face.

You knew this wasn’t healthy, you couldn’t make up like this. He was so right, you were being childish and immature. Orgasming inside you was almost his way of telling you you’re not a child, you’re a woman, and you need to act like one. It was on its own, a reality check.

Spencer gave you a few more gentle thrusts, before pulling out, moving quickly off the bed. 

You didn’t dare try and move, your body ached, and your wrists had been rubbed raw. Your headache from earlier was back, this time twice as strong, and you groaned at the pain.

“Shh… baby, don’t move.” Spencer was at your side in an instant. You vaguely registered the clinking of metal and the freeing of your wrists. 

You whimpered as he slathered lotion on your sore wrists, massaging them gently. When he was done you giggled deliriously to yourself, it was moments like these you cherished. Such moments of utter vulnerability and trust that would only be shared between the two of you. 

He left once again, and you slowly rolled onto your back, letting your eyes close momentarily.

Spencer came back shortly, walking back over to the bed. He placed a kiss on your forehead, watching as your eyes fluttered open, “hi” you mumbled. 

Spencer laughed, “hi” he leaned down, pressing his lips to yours in a gentle kiss. “C’mon” he mumbled.

One of his arms hooked under your knees, the other around your back, you got the idea, quickly wrapping your weak arms around his neck. He lifted you up, carrying you bridal style into the bathroom. Upon entering you had noticed he already drew a bath, and a smile crept onto your face. 

“Here, sweetheart.” He set you down on the toilet, helping you out of your shirt, and pulling off your ruined underwear. He helped you up, holding onto you as you stepped into the water. 

You got yourself situated, watching as he stripped from his clothes to join you. You scooted forward, allowing space for him to slip in the bath behind you. 

He smiled at your actions, climbing in carefully, he settled behind you, his arms wrapping around you comfortingly. You sighed peacefully, nuzzling into his chest. “I’m sorry if I was too rough with you” he muttered into your hair.

You giggled lightly, “no, I deserved it.” You sank deeper into the water, allowing the warmth to soothe your muscles and the pounding in your head. 

“No, Y/N, you were just trying to help me relax,” Spencer said sympathetically.

“Mhm, and I ended up doing the exact opposite, I’m sorry, Spence. I just wanted to forget about you, I can’t stand to see you so stressed.” You turned slightly so you could look at him.

“How about this, you don’t drink so heavily next time, and I’ll take more breaks from work?” Spencer debated, one of his eyebrows raised in question. 

You let out a giggle at his expression, leaning back to press a kiss to his perfect lips, “sounds like a deal to me. Plus, who knows when I’ll be able to drink again?” You teased, alluding to the fact that he had come inside you. 

Spencer laughed, his arms wrapping loosely around your stomach, “there’s no one I’d rather have carry my child than you.” He ended his statement with a lasting kiss to your lips, pulling back, only to pepper more kisses on your face.