#the program still feels awkward which might be noticeable but we are working with what we got

[undergroundwubwubmaster]

Actually managed to do something for 2024 N7 day! Amazing!

...

[hijacks the post] OK i have sat on this piece of lore for 10 years and i've never seen it mentioned anywhere listen up - ME3 Multiplayer introduced the Awakened Collector unit which, canonically, are Collectors freed from the control of the Reapers now fighting against them. Meaning that at least for a brief period, unknown to Javik, he had his fellow Prothean soldiers back on his side ... except i don't think he would be happy about meeting them again.

[rhetoricandlogic]

A House with Good Bones - T. Kingfisher

When I think Southern Gothic fiction, I generally picture grim haunting tales set in creepy small towns in the American South. I think overall bleak tones with a sense of foreboding and dread. I think horror, the supernatural, the disturbing and the macabre.

What I don’t usually expect is to be laughing my ass off at the gut-busting humor. Yes, I know morbid or dark comedy is sometimes used in the genre to poke fun at Southern societal norms and traditions, but as usual, T. Kingfisher’s famed wit and lightness of touch makes her latest novel an instant gem.

In A House With Good Bones, we follow recently furloughed archaeoentomologist Samantha Montgomery on a visit to her hometown in rural North Carolina. Needing a place to stay for a while, she also figures this would be a good time to check in with her mother Edith, who has been acting very strange lately according to recent reports from Sam’s brother. Upon her arrival, Sam could immediately see what he means. Normally a happy-go-lucky woman, Edith has become tense and jumpy, overly cautious about everything. The house that Sam remembers as colorful and vibrant has also been repainted to the original bland hues which were favored by her miserable grandmother Mae, back when she was still alive and owned the home. Plus, the less said the better about the questionable décor which now adorns the place, which Sam knows to be completely out of character for her mom.

Worried that it might be dementia or worse, Sam sets out to find out what ails her mother. She learns that what Edith is experiencing could be symptoms of delayed bereavement for Gran Mae, even though the old woman has been dead for many years. But Edith’s odd behavior is also just the tip of the iceberg. As insects are her life’s work, Sam can’t help but notice her mother’s garden is completely devoid of any of the creepy crawlies which would normally be everywhere. Not a single ant, spider, or bee despite the garden being filled with Gran Mae’s famously beautiful rosebushes which have been growing at the house for decades. And that’s not even the weirdest part. One night, Sam wakes up to a horrifying discovery which even she as a seasoned entomologist finds disturbing, and that’s only the first of many more nasty surprises the house has in store for her.

If you enjoyed Kingfisher’s The Twisted Ones, then I think you’ll also come to love A House with Good Bones. That’s because the two books feel very similar to me in terms of tone and style, both serving up a perfect blend of horror and humor. Even the title is a cheeky gibe in its own way. The story also features a charismatic and lovable protagonist with an unforgettable voice. Sam Montgomery’s personality is positively infectious, reflected in her laidback narration which flows naturally off the page and frequently includes hilarious observations of the things happening around her. Even in the face of terrifying uncertainty, she can still liven things up with a joke or two.

I was also touched by Sam’s concern for Edith and the way she was so fiercely protective of her. Having just finished a string of novels about dysfunctional families, reading one that featured a strong, loving mother-daughter bond felt quite refreshing for a change. I also enjoyed the side characters, like the neighbors Gail, bitter rival of Gran Mae when she was alive, and Phil, the awkward but intelligent handyman who Sam becomes sweet on as the story progresses. I was even charmed by the wake of vultures, part of a wildlife rescue and rehabilitation program, which have taken over the street and made it their home.

It’s little things like that which made A House with Good Bones such a joy to read. Whenever a scene got too scary, some quirky detail or random quip would bring the tone back to lighter territory. Kingfisher has always had a knack for finding this balance between creepy and funny, and that’s why I keep coming back to her horror books. And no question about it, this one has become one of my favorites.

[saturnscode]

Kim remembers the first time he saw Porchay. It was at that school event where he signed his shirt and he was all giggles and awkward moves. He remembers the way he looked at him like he hung all the stars and the moon.

He also remembers the surprise and intrigue he felt after finding out he was his brother's new bodyguard's little brother. But just when he was about to contact him to dive in further, his father summoned him and he missed his window.

It was weeks after that when his investigation started leading him to believe that they might have been related, so he forced himself to stop thinking about him, to forget his eyes and his smile.

But after Porchay got kidnapped, Kim involved himself in his family's business once again, after he swore never to come back, he stayed.

He told himself he was going to stay until the confrontation with the minor family was put to an end, until Chay - who was pure, who has nothing to do with his rotten family and all the misfortune that they brought to him and his brother - was safe.

But it didn’t end. Chay moved into the main family's house and Kinn asked him to tutor him, to help him get into his Uni music program like a call from him wouldn’t secure a spot if he wanted to.

And that was the thing, he didn’t want to. He wanted to work for it, just like Kim did. So he stayed longer, to the point that he couldn’t leave.

He wasn’t that shy around him anymore. He was able to speak to him normally and looked at him directly in his eyes, he would even push him if he was teasing him too much.

Still, there were moments where he would blush when Kim looked at him for way too long or he would let out those little screams of his when he felt Kim too close to him. Those were his favorites.

Today, strangely enough, Porchay was late.

He is never late. Usually, he is the one that waits for him in the 'music room' of the main house. But today, it's been already fifteen minutes since he hasn’t arrived yet.

Just when Kim was starting to get worried and pulling out his phone to call Kinn, Porchay bursts in.

"I'm sorry, P'Kim!", he quickly apologizes, leaving his notebook and his music spreadsheets on the coffee table next to the piano where Kim is sited.

"It's okay, Chay," he laughs, taking a better look at him.

He's wearing a brown hoodie and a face mask, which is curious because even when it's almost 5.15 in the afternoon, the sun is still up high and the room is warm enough for Kim to open the balcony doors.

"Is everything good?" Kim asks, squinting his eyes at Chay, he nods frantically before letting a nervous laugh out.

"All good!" He says, "should we start now?"

-

Chay is a good student. Not that Kim has had tons of them, Porchay is actually the only person he has ever taught, but he caught ups quick and he is very enthusiastic about everything.

So, when he kept spacing out and looking out of the window when Kim talks him about something, is very noticeable, but Kim lets him be. Must be hard balancing his last year of high school with all the changes he has experienced in the last couple of months, and on top of that, having extra lessons leaving him with little to no time for anything else.

But when he keeps failing the breathing exercises and the warming up, Kim can't keep quiet.

"Take off the mask," Kim says, lifting his hands from the piano.

"What?!" Porchay startles from his seat in front of him. "Why? No, I'm not feeling very well, phi." He fakes a laugh and Kim can't take it anymore.

"Off." He says, a blunt expression on his face. "Now."

Porchay's eyes widen and he does as he's told. He slowly removes the mask and Kim thinks he's going to lose it.

Chay's lips are chapped and bloody. Just a bit swollen. Immediately, his face turns red.

"What happened to you?" He asks, calmly.

Porchay laughs, scratching his head over the hoodie.

"It was really funny," he chuckles, but it sounds empty, "you see, phi, I was running through the school's corridor and I didn’t see the mop and the pail so I feel on my face, haha."

Kim's expression doesn’t flinch. That was not what happened. He can tell just by looking at him.

This is not his first time seeing someone with lips, also, he is not a stranger to inflict it and create the image in front of him. Those were bitten lips.

"I'll give you one more chance," he says, starting to lose it. "Who did that to you?"

Chay freezes. He's been caught and he doesn’t know what to do. So, he tries to run. He starts grabbing his stuff and stands up, walking at the door the fast as he can but Kim catches up, closing the door with his arm and locking it up, trapping Chay between the door and his body.

He looks at Chay's lips. Red and swollen. His jaw clutches and he closes his eyes, letting the hot air in his lung out through his mouth. Chay shudders when Kim's breath touches his lips.

"Did someone force themselves on you?" He asks, eyes still close.

"No!" He jumps, moving his hands all around, "No! I..." he breathes in, Kim embraces himself, "I wanted it."

Kim moves his head. That was what he was afraid of. He opens his eyes and sees Porchay, looking up at him, expecting.

He bites his own tongue to keep him from saying something he shouldn't, instead, he raises his hand, wondering his fingers over Chay's lips until he finally presses his thumb over his lower lip, breaking the skin and forming a drop of blood.

Chay hisses, closing his eyes and dropping the papers to the floor.

The air between them is heavy and Chay doesn’t know what to do, so he starts stuttering out information.

"There is this guy I have a crush on," he explains, laughing, "I never thought I stand a chance but after gym class, he followed me in the locker room and..."

Kim's fists hit the door with a thud, right next to Porchay's head. He holds his breath.

"I thought you had a crush on me," Kimhan whispers, stepping even closer to the boy, pressing even harder on his lip, making the blood drop down his chin.

"I'm talking about real life, phi." Chay says, breathless, letting a chuckle out.

Kimhan scoffs, "am I a product of your imagination?"

Chay nods, slowly, "something like that" he whispers.

"I'm not," he says, looking deep into his eyes.

Chay shakes his head like he’s trying to wake himself up. "But yeah," Porchay squirms but Kim doesn’t move an inch, "he was too rough so I don’t think I like him anymore."

Kim cannot believe it. The words came out of Chay's mouth, the sight in front of him. It all feels like a sick dream he shouldn't even have. Porchay's abused lips under his touch, his trembling breath on his skin, and those doe-y eyes looking at every spot of his face, trying to read him.

But Kim is far too lost. In his own head, in his rage.

"What's his name?" He demands.

"Ugh?" Chay asks, confused. "That doesn’t matter, phi."

"The name." He repeats himself.

Porchay's posture changes, he crosses his arms over his chest and looks at him defiantly.

"None of your business, P'Kim."

Kim ignores the tone and moves his thumb from his lips to his chin, trying to clean the stain of blood.

"Was this your first kiss?"

He can’t contain himself anymore. All he can picture in his head is Porchay against the lockers, whimpering as a faceless bastard bites his lips to the point of making them bleed.

"What?! No!" Chay squeals like a little kid. "A girl kissed me when I was fifteen!"

Kim shouldn't find this adorable, but he does.

"I'm not a kid, you know?!" He's too upset to even notice he dropped formalities and that shifts something in Kim.

He has been restraining himself, with every word, with every look, and every touch because he didn’t want to stain Porchay, he didn’t want to crack him and break him.

But now it's too late. Chay is bleeding and Kim want to stop it, so he does. He closes the distance between their faces and licks the blood from his lips.

Chay freezes and looks at him, eyes wide open, like he can’t believe it. Kim asks for permission with his eyes and Chay gives it to him, shutting his closed.

Kimhan dives in, taking Chay's lower lips between his, licking slowly, making him shiver. He wraps his arms around Porchay's waist and lifts him up.

He holds Chay's head with his hand until they fall into the couch, his lips never parting. Chay sighs into Kim's mouth and locks his hands into his hair, pulling and panting.

Kim's tongue discovers every corner of Porchay's mouth, trying to erase every bit of trace of that nameless brat. His lips start to go down, making Chay whine about the loss.

He licks the dry blood on his chin and starts to kiss his jaw when Porchay startles on his lap. Kim looks at him and finds those guilty eyes avoiding him, so he pulls down the hoodie and he sees red.

There are three purple circles starting to expand on his neck. One under his left ear, one under his jawline, and the last one where his neck connects with his shoulder.

He tries to control his breathing, placing his nose on the crook of his neck and breathing in. Chay has showered, Kim can still smell the soap on his skin like he has rubbed the hickey trying to make it disappear.

"P'Kim?" He asks, and he sounds scared.

Not from Kim, he is scared he ruined the moment, he's scared Kimhan won't want him anymore.

Kim sighs resigned. There’s nothing he can do other than kiss the irritated skin, so he does. He kisses and licks and blows warm air over it. He slides his hands under Chay's hoodie, feeling his soft bare skin, making the boy on his lap squirm and whimper and cry.

"If you ever want a kiss," he whispers, right on Chay's ear before placing a kiss there, "you can always call me."

Chay nods frantically and holds Kimhan's face with both hands, leading his mouth to his lips and they kiss again. They kiss until it turns dark outside, they kiss until Kim's name is all Chay can say in between breaths and his lips are so swollen he can’t take it anymore.

They kiss until Kim forgets someone else kissed Chay that day, just for a moment. He gets drunk on Porchay's taste and sounds, he loses himself in his skin and his scent.

After what seems like a lifetime for him, he feels content with Chay in his arms, slowly falling asleep when their lungs appear to have given up on them.

[icemankazansky]

I was hoping you could help interpret a particular IceMav scene in Top Gun (1986) that's quite peculiar to me.

During the "Who's the best pilot" banter when Ice and Mav have their first encounter, we see Ice all smiley and arrogant with each line EXCEPT when he says "You like to work alone." Notice his smile drops and the way he's looking at Mav which lingers for a while. So during this scene I'm wondering is Ice concerned about the squadrons safety with Mav since he's for himself OR do you think maybe Ice can relate to Mav on some level, and he's realizing they might have more in common than either think, like kindred spirits?

I'm sorry asks won't let me attach a gif or screenshot for scene reference.

That's okay, I know exactly what you're talking about.

(I'm sorry. I am taking this seriously, but these just happen to be the gifs I have on hand for this scene.)

I think your first read—that Ice is concerned for the safety of other pilots because Maverick isn't a team player—is much closer than the idea that Ice identifies with this trait of Maverick's. As we'll soon find out, Ice is very concerned with the interest of the collective, especially in his work. He sees the military as a team sport, and believes when people do not play as a team, people get hurt. Every argument he has with Maverick is about Maverick acting in what he thinks are his own best interests rather than the interests of the collective. When Ice says, "I heard that about you. You like to work alone," he is telling Maverick (and the audience) that, no matter what else he's heard about Maverick, his initial impression of him before they even meet is that Maverick is not going to play as a team, that he is not going to protect the collective, and that Ice sees this as a big problem.

There's also the additional baggage of Cougar. We don't know the exact nature of Ice's relationship with Cougar, but it's clear that Cougar was at one time important to Ice in some way. He says, "He and I were like brothers in flight school," and later he will approach Maverick and ask who was taking care of Cougar while Maverick was, "showboating with that MiG."

(We don't have enough evidence to fully understand Ice's relationship with Cougar, but what makes me think that they didn't part on great terms is that Ice consistently refers to him in the past tense. "He and I were like brothers in flight school." "He was a good man." Maverick reads that second line—and this is a popular fandom explanation, as well—as Ice saying, "Before he turned in his wings, while he was still a pilot, he was a good man," as in, now that Cougar has lost the edge and turned in his wings, Ice doesn't think he's good for much. That reading doesn't feel true to me. It's not just that Ice refers to Cougar in the past tense every time he brings him up, but we know from Ice's actions later that whether someone has the edge, whether they're willing to fly or not, is not important to Ice on a personal level.

After Goose's death, Ice attempts to comfort Maverick, to express his condolences, and even though he knows that Maverick is scrubbing out, that he gets in the plane and can't engage, that he is likely leaving the program and perhaps the Navy, Ice is the ONLY person who doesn't try to get Maverick back in a plane. He is concerned about Maverick on a personal level. We know this before Ice attempts to console him—something he is terrible at, something that makes him feel incredibly awkward and uncomfortable, but something he does anyway because he wants to help Maverick—because we see Ice watching him on the tarmac. He's keeping tabs on Maverick, watching to see how he's doing after the accident, and he gives a damn. The only time he gets uncomfortable about Maverick refusing to engage is when Maverick is supposed to be the only backup he has on a dangerous mission. And still he doesn't try to goad Maverick back into the cockpit. He goes to Stinger and tries to get Stinger to bench him, because he doesn't think Maverick is ready, and he doesn't want to put his life, Slider's life, Hollywood's and Wolf's lives on the line. Since he goes to Stinger and not Maverick, I would guess that he doesn't want to put Maverick under that kind of pressure, either, not until he's ready. (That is speculation on my part, however. Stinger cuts Ice off before he can say much.))

Okay, circling back around to the actual point of this post. When they meet in the O Club, Ice is all smiley and flirty and arrogant until he says, "I heard that about you. You like to work alone." He stops smiling. He gets serious. And I think what happens after that is just as notable: He stops speaking. He studies Maverick's face, trying to get a read on him. To see how his words landed, to see if his hunch is right. He hasn't already made his mind up about Maverick; he has a theory, but he is actively collecting more evidence before he decides whether it's right. He pushes Maverick, and then he waits. He watches his face to see how Maverick reacts, and he waits to let him speak, to hear him respond.

Only he doesn't get a chance. Slider cut into the conversation, breaking Ice's eye contact and putting his experiment on hold. They leave shortly after, but the next time Ice sees Maverick again, he does the same thing. He waits for him. He goads him, and then he waits for him to react. He doesn't like Maverick's non-answer about who was watching out for Cougar, and he shows it, and after that, his mind is more made up. When they meet again, it's after the first hop, and Ice has heard about Maverick breaking the rules of engagement during the exercise. When Maverick gets testy, Ice fires back right away, because, by this time, to him, Maverick has proven his initial theory correct: That Maverick is out for himself, and that putting the I in team gets people in this line of work killed.

[bb-8]

Tech Savvy

Pairing: Tech x female reader Summary:  You’re an ex-imperial who has a crush on Tech. He’s awkward about it. Until he’s not. Rating: Explicit (18+, minors DNI) Warnings/tags: crack treated seriously, smut, unprotected PIV, awkward flirting, oral sex, first kisses, accidental exhibitionism, lots of bad jokes, slight angst Word count: 5.4K Notes: It’s smutty crack treated seriously, guys. Read on AO3.

The planet you land on isn’t anything special. It’s a humid swamp world in the Outer Rim that offers enough seclusion for even the Empire’s Most Wanted to pass by unnoticed.

You, being the kind and selfless individual you are, decide to help with repairs while Clone Force 99 are on a supply run. It’s the first time the ship has made planet fall in weeks and everyone is a bit stir-crazy, jumping at the chance to stretch their legs. Prolonged time spent in hyperspace has that effect.

Before he left, you told Hunter that your status as an ex-Imperial put an unnecessary target on their back. You’re still wearing your Imperial uniform, after all, and you know for a fact that the Empire is not exactly merciful to deserters. Especially deserters that committed high treason. Like aiding Clone Force 99’s escape from an Imperial prison.

You definitely didn’t just jump at the chance to stay behind because Tech opted to. That would be ridiculous.

You feel your face heat at the thought.

(What? His goggles are cute.)

The truth is, there’s been something – a tension, as it were – between the two of you since you arrived on board. You know it, he knows it. You’ve been orbiting around each other for some weeks now, and this is the first time you’ve been alone –

“Can you spare a minute?” Tech calls out, pulling you away from your thoughts. You swivel in your chair and shift your attention to him, a bit surprised.

“I was beginning to think you didn’t realise I was on board,” you reply as you make your way to the cockpit where Tech is currently fiddling with some wires.

“You’re...very hard to miss,” Tech replies and your heart skips a beat. “The ship is far too small to miss another sentient being’s presence.”

“Right,” you mutter while taking a seat, trying not to sound too deflated. So maybe he didn’t feel that tension. “What do you need help with?”

“I am taking this opportunity to rewrite the ship’s central comm unit to be more covert when passing through areas with increased Imperial traffic. If I can update the ship’s communication infrastructure to resemble that of a first generation Imperial craft, then we will considerably reduce our chances of being identified. Which is why I am particularly glad you stayed behind today. Considering your, er, history.” He fiddles with a mess of wires in front of him, not once looking up.

“And here I was thinking you wanted me around because you enjoyed my company,” you playfully jab.

“There’s that, too,” Tech replies. “Though it would be advantageous if you could list all of the Imperial access codes you can remember. The computer and I can do some pattern recognition to better–,” he cut himself off and anxiously rubbed the back of his neck. “Apologies, you don’t need a long-winded explanation. If you’re happy to share, you can do so whenever you’re ready.”

You consider protesting and telling him that you find his rambling cute, but you decide not to dwell on it for his sake. You list the codes you remember from the Academy. You keep talking, relaying any tangential intel relating to access codes. If it’s irrelevant, Tech doesn’t stop you.

He is silent for a few moments analysing the data you’ve given him. You watch him closely, admiring the way his brow furrows and his lips purse while he’s concentrating.

“You trust me then?” you venture to say. You play with your hands in your lap. “Even though I was with the Empire?”

“You’re helping us now,” Tech replies, as if it’s obvious. He is still inputting data into the datapad he is holding when he continues, “You trust us, it would seem. And we were soldiers programmed upon our creation to destroy the Republic.”

You fumble over your next words.

“That’s – it’s entirely different.”

“And from my perspective, all that matters is where you are now,” he states with finality.

“Well,” you say shyly, “I like where I am.”

Tech smirks despite himself, briefly glancing up at you from his datapad.

You hold his gaze for a moment, before settling into a comfortable silence. You sit in next to him for several minutes, revelling in his closeness like a brezak basking under the Zygerrian sun. It’s only when you notice yourself blushing like a teenager that you decide to make yourself useful and actually help with repairs like you promised.

++++++++++++++++++++

“Would you mind holding this wire out of the way for me while I solder the capacitors for the localised memory bank?” Tech calls, breaking your concentration. The illumination device you were repairing could wait.

You have no idea what Tech means, if his string of words means anything, and you survey his makeshift workbench for a hint. Several panels are detached, limply dangling from a few brightly coloured wires. Tech is focusing his attention on a large panel that is plugged into a cylindrical storage device.

“Maker, that’s a big data stick,” you can’t help but mutter.

Tech makes an incoherent choking sound.

You do as requested and lean over his shoulder to take hold of the wire he specified between your thumb and forefinger. The fabric of your sleeves brushes against his shoulder armour and it feels as though there is a static shift in the air, like the air around you is alive and humming.

And Tech gulps with the contact. He types a few sets of numbers into his datapad with excess force, seriously testing the build quality of the device. His posture is especially rigid as focuses on testing the wires currently in his lap.

Your pulse is racing. It’s as if each second that passes without a confession threatens to rip apart the very fabric of reality.

“Tech?” He has to feel this too, right? “Why...why did you stay behind today?” you ask, careful to keep your voice even. You need him to say it, admit that he feels it, too. You’re desperate for it.

“You can let go now,” he replied, pointedly ignoring your question.

You let go of the wire, but make no move to step away from him. You’re acutely aware of yourself right now and suddenly self-conscious: about the deep shade of crimson enveloping your face, the way you’re breathing, the clamminess you can feel on your palms. You hope you smell alright and silently pray that any traces of caf on your breath are long gone.

Several seconds pass before Tech looks up, over his shoulder at you. His face briefly flickers with concern.

“Your flushed features and increased heart rate indicates that you are nervous,” he remarks.

Maker, is it that obvious, you cringe.

Your mouth is dry and you contemplate making an excuse, but your brain does not want to cooperate.

“Sometimes I –,” you begin. Void, here I go. “Sometimes I get nervous around you,” you admit, attempting to make your confession sound as casual as possible. You bite your bottom lip in a way that you hope will be interpreted as sensual, or, at the very least, cute.

And Tech? Tech is flustered. Like visibly shaken, blushing furiously, two-steps-away-from-hyperventilating, kind of flustered.

“Please do not be nervous,” he responds tightly. Each word is taking considerable effort to be spoken. “I already told you: we trust you. I am not a threat to you.”

The poor guy. There’s no way he can really be misinterpreting that –.

“No, no, it’s a good kind of nervous,” you attempt to clarify.

“Nervousness is not conducive to high quality work,” Tech chokes out.

“No, I mean like giddy. I feel giddy around you.”

Come on, Tech.

“Would you like a chair–.”

“Stars, Tech, I like you!”

Tech...errors. He attempts to start several sentences with no success before mumbling an excuse that he has to go, “fix the reverse polarity capacitive inductor,” which, to your knowledge, is definitely not a real thing.

So maybe that could have gone better. All things considered, he did seem affected by your admission. On the other hand, he also left the room entirely.

Your face burns with embarrassment and, hey, maybe this backwater planet could make a decent home. Maybe the swamp water would be safe for consumption and you could spend the rest of your days foraging for swamp... berries. Sure, it might be a little uncomfortable, but no less uncomfortable than staying here for one more second.

And this is why you don’t admit your feelings to anyone. Ever.

Ugh. You were so confident, too. You squeeze your eyes shut, willing yourself to transport to another star system.

The door to the ‘fresher shuts, followed by a slight scuffle of feet, and a thunk that sounds decidedly like a head hitting the door.

You briefly consider leaving the ship to attempt to meet up with the rest of the Bad Batch. It’s been far too long since you’ve breathed fresh, clean, air and you feel a second wave of self-pity wash over you as you contemplate the thought of breathing in the smell of Wrecker’s feet for several more weeks in the Marauder’s circulated air. They hadn’t been gone longer than a standard hour and there was a clear path to get into town. You could still salvage the day, you could still stretch your legs–

‘Oh you want to know why I suddenly decided to join you, Hunter, after promising I’d help fix the ship? Funny story, I was trying to seduce your brother and he rejected me!’

You physically cringe at that. On second thought, maybe just pretending this didn’t happen would be the easier option. Lesser of two evils and all that.

Well, you’ve endured worse situations than this. Swamp berries, if they exist, probably won’t offer enough sustenance anyway, you conclude. You turn your attention to fixing several access panels that require little to no attention.

++++++++++++++++++++

It takes a long while for Tech to exit the ‘fresher. The door opens with a hiss and you stiffen, not looking up until he briskly walks past you and resumes his makeshift work station in the cockpit. Once he is seated and his back is facing you and you can hear the rhythmic tapping of his fingers on his datapad, you allow your entire body to relax.

You look back down to your newest project: fixing the swivel action on a chair. You’re not entirely sure if the chair needed to swivel, or whether it was supposed to, but it does now. At least Omega would have fun with that.

“Can you spare another minute?” Tech says after a considerable stretch of silence.

His comment catches you off-guard. It’s fine, it’s fine, you are just going to pretend like nothing happened. You can just carry on helping with actual repairs like you promised.

“I’m coming,” you say, while putting your entire weight into tightening a screw.

Tech coughs slightly.

“The, uh, I need your help with the cum system. The comm system!” he stutters.

Your eyes widen and decide it’s best not to comment, furiously thinking about the fact that Tech rarely makes mistakes. You wipe your hands on your trousers and stride over to the cockpit where Tech is fiddling with some wires on his lap.

“Take these,” he says while coiling a piece of wire to make a conductor. He pushes right through the awkwardness and places a handful of resistors in your outstretched hand.

You stand there in silence for several moments before you drum your fingers on the back of his chair. He makes no move to immediately utilise the resistors, so you resign yourself to stand there and watch him work. (You suppress a sigh – you wish you weren’t attracted to him at this moment, but here you are, drawn in by his confidence and fixated on watching his nimble fingers work their magic.)

Normally, you’d have already lost your patience. But not now, not when you are trying to decipher just what exactly Tech was trying to accomplish by calling you over and ignoring you. And that’s when you realise that Tech either forgot you were there or forgot to give you whichever menial task he originally intended.

But there’s absolutely no chance that Tech makes two mistakes within the same standard year, never mind two mistakes within the same afternoon.

You start to wonder if he even has any use for the resistors. Your knowledge of technology is limited, but you really don’t see how they’d be useful with his current task. Maybe this is Tech’s uncharacteristically inefficient way to try to initiate conversation. You really hope you’re not completely misreading the situation, but it’s not like you have any pride left to lose.

“Why did you stay behind today, Tech?” you ask quietly, voice tinged with apprehension and perhaps an unmistakable eagerness. You phrase it more like a statement than a question this time.

He continues to fidget, his leg bouncing anxiously as he works.

“I did some research,” he blurts. “Regarding intimacy between human males and human females.”

Huh.

“I read the specifics on how to kiss,” he continues, “but I fear that I am a bit out of my depth as to how I am supposed to initiate it.” He is still fussing with the wires in his lap, not quite able to look up at you.

“You...want to kiss?” you surmise, your heart thumping wildly in your chest. “Me?”

“Very much so.”

A grin breaks across your face and the sharp sting of Tech’s previous rejection immediately melts away. You deposit the handful of resistors in a tray containing various tools Tech had been using throughout the day before taking a tentative step forward from behind the chair. He cranes his neck to look at you, an unfamiliar expression that you’re not quite able to decipher written across his face.

You reach your hand out to caress his cheek, and sliding your hand down to his chin to guide it upwards as you bend down to bring your lips to his. The kiss is chaste, at first, but Tech proves himself a quick study as slightly parts his lips to deepen the kiss. His goggles nudge against your face and you’re pretty sure you’re leaving a greasy cheek print on one of them.

You pull away to gauge his reaction.

“Was that... satisfactory?” he asks, seemingly dazed. His eyes are hooded and still focused on your lips.

“It was perfect.” You offer a small smile.

He removes the goggles to clean one side of them with a nearby cloth. So you were leaving a cheek print. Once his goggles are back in place, he’s looking at you like he can’t quite believe you’re real, his golden brown eyes blinking owlishly at you.

“I apologise for leaving you earlier. I did not anticipate you returning my affections – it did not seem probable. And I was, regrettably, not prepared,” he mumbles.

“Probable?” It’s your turn to malfunction. You want to usher a thousand reassurances at once.

“Well, no.” Tech shifts his weight uncomfortably, not quite able to meet your eyes. “Hunter or Crosshair usually are the ones who capture the affections of –,”

“I like your goggles,” you interrupt in a rush before you surge forward to press your lips against his, hoping to convey just how much you return his affections. It’s a messy, urgent kiss that Tech returns with equal fervour. His fingers find their way into your hair, pulling you closer.

When you finally break the kiss, you straighten your back and take both of his hands in yours and take small, hesitant steps backwards, encouraging Tech to stand. As he does, the project he is working on slides off of his lap and clatters to the floor. He pays it no attention as he closes the distance between you, his eyes darkened with lust. He kisses you with renewed purpose as his hands wrap around your waist, roaming across your body, before they settle firmly on your ass.

Your hips grind into his codpiece and Tech lets out a low groan that goes straight to your core. He moves to kiss the curve of your neck, sucking at the delicate skin and making you squirm. The dampness between your legs becomes apparent and you press yourself closer to him, desperate for friction where you need it the most. As if he can read your mind, he trails a hand from your ass and places it between your legs, grazing over your clit before cupping your cunt. You involuntarily rock into his hand and moan into his mouth, hardly recognising the sounds you’re making.

Tech’s hand abruptly stills as he draws back to meet your eyes. His expression mirrors yours: searching wide eyes filled with longing, a silent acknowledgement passes between you as you reach the point of no return.

And in that moment you are struck with the urge to want nothing more than his cock in your mouth.

“Can I?” you blurt, glancing downward, hoping he is able to intuit exactly what you are suggesting in that moment.

“You may.” You allow the grammatical correction to slip by. “But I’ve never–,” he begins.

You don’t break eye contact and you begin to drop to your knees. He’s looking at you with his eyes wide, mouth slack. Tech’s bulged codpiece is mere inches from your face, and it’s in that moment that you realise that you have no idea how to undress this man.

And this, this is when you start to worry.

Does it have a latch? Does it even come off?

Your eyes dart from left to right looking for some sort of hint as to how it could be removed. You’re half tempted to just plant a smooch on the armour or the kiss inside of his thigh and pretend that all of this was intentional.

“I can get that,” Tech helpfully chimes in, blessedly oblivious to your internal struggle. He removes the pelvic plate with ease and, to your relief, you can see the shape of his erection straining under a layer of thick black fabric. Black fabric that conforms to his body shape exceedingly well. You reach out to feel his length, gently cupping his balls through the fabric before applying more pressure as you palm his shaft. He soft groan escapes his lips.

It catches you a little off guard, actually, to see him so hard. Knowing he’s been hard underneath his armour this entire time. Wondering when else he’s been hard and you had been none the wiser.

His cock has an attractive silhouette – it’s thicker than you expected and you can feel the patch of pre-cum that dampens the black fabric near his tip. You reach for his waistband and pull it down before slowly wrapping a hand around his shaft. He hisses with the contact and brings a white-knuckled fist to his lips.

You peer up at him through your lashes and you lick your lips, preparing to tease him a bit before taking him as deep as you can manage.

And that’s when something inside Tech snaps.

He looks down at you with wild eyes and places his hand on the back of your head to guide your mouth to his cock, apparently unable to continue the role of a passive observer for any longer. Clearly intent at putting his newfound research to good use. You lick a wet stripe from the base to the tip, before taking him in your mouth, the pre-cum tangy on your tongue. His grip tightens on your hair the same time he tilts his hips forward to push his cock further and you hollow your cheeks, sucking hard enough to make Tech groan and his knees buckle. He braces himself against the back of the pilot’s chair, captivated at the sight your mouth stretched around his length.

You begin to bob your head in a steady rhythm, taking him as deep as you’re able. You drag your tongue and press it flush on the underside of his cock, looking up at Tech with wide doe eyes, batting your eyelashes prettily as he struggles to maintain composure. You continue your pace until sweat starts to bead at his temple and his breathing becomes less controlled.

Patience isn’t your strong point and you’re too pent up not to touch yourself. You bring your free hand down your trousers, between your thighs, running your fingers through your wet folds and hum at the sensation. Tech’s hips stutter with the vibrations and his face contorts in what looks like a pained grimace. He takes a miniature step back and your lips leave his cock with a pop. He’s breathing heavily now and his weeping cock is painfully hard, his balls tight.

“I don’t want to finish in your mouth, mesh’la,” he pants, voice low.

You nod dumbly, currently unable to form a coherent thought or tear your eyes away from his erect length, only inches away from your face.

Tech takes hold of both of your forearms, helping you get to your feet, before wrapping his hands around your thighs, picking you up with surprising ease. You lock your thighs around his torso as he strides over to press you against one of the auxiliary control panels adjacent to the co-pilot’s chair in the cockpit. The incline on the panel is steep and the pressure of his hips against yours is the only thing keeping you from sliding down.

“Let me taste you,” Tech groans against your ear.

You let out a frustrated whine and desperately move to unclasp your trousers as Tech works to open your shirt. You shudder once the cool air hits your sweat-dampened skin and Tech messily palms your exposed breast while nipping at your neck. He helps you shimmy out of your clothing while holding you in firmly place before discarding them on the floor of he Marauder.

And this is how you find yourself spread eagle on the Marauder's control panel in possibly the most undignified position you’ve ever been in.

He goes to remove his goggles and you stop him.

“If they’re not uncomfortable for you, I’d like for you to leave them on.” He quirks a brow at you, quizzical. “What? I told you that they’re cute.”

His face evolves from sceptical to bashful in a few moments.

“Very well, then. I can leave them on.”

Tech moves his hands under your thighs as he lowers himself, draping your legs across each of his shoulders with surprising gentleness for a man who looks like he is ready to devour you. Once he’s on his knees and comfortably supporting your weight, keeping you pressed against the console, he places an open-mouthed kiss on the inside of your thigh.

“A-are you okay with this?” you manage to stutter out. It’s not like you haven’t pictured his head between your thighs before, but something about his head actually being between your thighs fills you with a nervousness you hadn’t anticipated.

He mumbles his assurances against your clit. He begins with slow, languid licks and you suck in a sharp breath as you feel yourself craving more and have to stop yourself from violently bucking your hips up.

Okay, so he’s actually really good at this. You know you really shouldn’t be that surprised, Tech is nothing if not thorough with his research and it’s, er, practical applications. Any thoughts of humour at Tech’s expense are, however, ripped from your mind when he sinks a single finger inside your cunt. His finger curls with a precision that only Tech could manage and you moan in encouragement as he pumps it in and out.

You squirm when he hits the spot that makes you want to beg for more and you feel your bare ass hit a button on the console. The next thing you hear is a soft swish swish sound of the Marauder's screen wipers that you inadvertently turned on. Mercifully, it doesn’t break Tech’s concentration and his hands continue to grip your hips, holding your cunt to his face.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop, please don’t stop,” you chant. You writhe again and another button sounds its activation. Nothing immediately makes itself known. You hope it’s not something like a proton torpedo firing into the swampy area the Marauder landed in. Not because there’s anything nearby, but because you’ll die if Tech stops here.

He moans into your core as he brings a hand down to grip his leaking cock, desperate for some friction.

“Kriff,” you grunt at the sight of him fucking his fist, only to hear Tech utter the same exclamation at the same time.

“Is there an echo in here or something?” You smile at him, offering a half-laugh before your face contorts with pleasure once again and you hiss through your teeth.

“Yes?” a new, tinny voice chimes in on the overhead speaker system. “This is Echo... You’ve, uh, turned on the short range comm system.”

You knew Tech was a good soldier, but the reflexes in which he slammed the short range comm transmitter with his free hand surprised you. He didn’t move himself from between your thighs and skilfully cut off the transmission while continuing to work your clit with his tongue and your cunt with his finger.

Before you could die from embarrassment and wonder just how much Echo and the rest of the Batch heard, Tech adds another finger and your entire body jerks and tenses.

“I’ve – ah, right there – Maker, that feels good. I’ve never been with anyone who is patient enough to let me come,” you manage to say through gritted teeth.

“My research indicated that it can take around 20 standard minutes for women to orgasm if properly relaxed, why would others stop prematurely?” Tech replies, only briefly removing his mouth from your cunt to reply.

“Selfishness?” you guess.

Tech seemed to take your admission (and ability to form sentences) personally, clearly intent on rendering you incapacitated. He returns to his attention to your clit and maintains his rhythm, teasing a third finger near your entrance. You whine at the sensation and move to hold Tech’s head in place, because if he stops now, there’s no way you’ll ever forgive him. The pressure that’s been mounting in your core finally, finally peaks and your entire body tenses as you surrender to your climax.

“Tech,” you whine, unable to formulate thoughts, let alone words.

He assures you with a soft groan and tightens his grip on your hip. He can feel your walls clenching around his fingers as he guides you through your climax.

As you come down from your orgasm, you feel like you’ve spent a year in bacta. You can’t move. Honestly, your bones are like Andorian jelly. The feeling is only temporary, however, as you’re overcome with the desire – no, need – to be filled.

“In me,” you urge. “Now.”

He adjusts his goggles and looks at you, spread out, completely ready for him.

“Lie back then.”

Tech settles between your thighs and nudges his cock head against your entrance. He takes a breath to steady himself, rubbing his length through your folds, covering it in your arousal.

“So wet and ready for me, mesh’la.”

Your hands wildly grasp at his chest plate, fingernails scratching along the plastoid, desperate to hold onto anything to anchor you. You meet his mouth with a graceless kiss, before he finally sinks into you.

“You’re tight,” he grits out.

He waits a few moments letting you adjust to his size before he begins to move. He restrains himself, slowly rolling his hips as your cunt stretches around his length.

“More,” you plead, breathlessly. “Please.”

Your encouragement is all he needs before he snaps his hips against yours, setting an unrelenting rhythm. He rocks into you harder with each thrust of his hips, his plastoid leg places slapping your skin.

“You feel so good, cyar'ika,” he pants. You surge upwards to greet his lips with a messy kiss, which only spurs him on to fuck you faster. “You’re, ah, taking me so well.”

“Fuck –,” you whine.

His grip tightens and his whole body starts to tense – he’s dangerously close to coming undone. And that’s when you notice his pace start to slow, his movements clearly distracted.

“Tech?” you mumble. You focus your eyes on his face and he looks dazed, you can practically hear him thinking. You’re about to ask him what’s wrong, but he doesn’t give you any time to panic.

“Elevate your hips by seven to ten degrees,” he states through heavy breaths.

“What?” Definitely not what you were expecting him to say.

Tech seems unfazed by your apparent annoyance. He wordlessly repositions himself, grabbing both of your hips and raising them slightly, holding your body up so it’s just the sharp incline of the console and Tech’s hands keeping you in place.

He began thrusting in earnest again, his eyes screwing shut in pleasure. And, Maker, he was right. The new angle hits a spot that makes your toes curl and you lose the ability to speak almost instantly and mewl helplessly as Tech fucks into you.

You made an undignified noise as you gripped his bicep, desperate to hold onto something, feeling the pressure mount in your core. With Tech’s hands busy holding you in place as he maintains a brutal pace, you bring a hand down to your clit, still wet with spit and your own essence. You barely have to touch yourself before you feel your body screaming for release.

“’M coming,” is all the warning you are able to give him before your cunt spasms around his twitching cock as your vision whites out. Tech grunts at the sensation, unable to hold his own climax off any longer.

“Where do you want me to –,” he grates out.

“Anywhere,” you cut him off, still feeling the aftershocks of your orgasm. “Just want to feel you.”

“Fuck, mesh’la, I’m going to come,” Tech groans, desperately chasing his release with harsh thrusts. His hips forcefully buck into you before his cock stiffens and he spills himself inside of you. He buries his face in your neck, slowly pumping you full of his cum, before he slumps against you. “Bid jate par me,” he mumbles into your neck, barely audible. “Gotal par me.”

You don’t know Mando’a, but whatever he is saying, the way he is saying it, sends a pleasant chill over your body.

You’re both still breathing heavily when Tech gingerly places you back down with a surprising gentleness for someone who had just been fucking you within an inch of your life. He’s in no rush to remove himself from you, but when his softened cock does slip out and his cum leaks out of you and onto the console, he helps you slide down. When your feet touch the floor, your legs wobble slightly and Tech has to grasp your forearms to steady you, softly chuckling at the state you’re in.

And when you look at him, he looks positively debauched. Sated, but debauched. You probably look worse.

In one swift motion he bends down, brings an arm down under your knees, and lifts you up. You wrap your arms around your neck while he carries you to his bunk. His cool armour against your overheated skin is a welcome sensation and you press yourself closer.

“Your research paid off,” you mumble into his chest as he sets you down on his bed.

“Please do not act so surprised by that.”

++++++++++++++++++++

You and Tech aren’t quite finished with the repairs by the time the Batch return hours later, long after the moons have risen and the bioluminescent plants surrounding the ship have begun to glow. If the squad notice you’re sitting a bit too close to Tech, your thigh pressing comfortably against his, they don’t say anything.

Neither of you were expecting to defile the Marauder all day and Tech was frantically fixing the lever on a storage hatch access panel, attempting to make up for lost time.

“Wrecker!” Echo shouts. “Clean up after yourself, for kriff’s sake.”

“Why?” Wrecker drawls, stomping towards the cockpit. “What did I do this time?”

“You’ve spilled your juice on the console again, all the keys are stuck in place.”

The access lever snaps clean off in Tech’s hands.

[snackhobi]

a human touch, part I

Part [1] / 1.5 / 2

(masterlist here)

pairing: taehyung x f!reader / word count: 13.3k / genre: robot!taehyung/virgin!reader, fluff, future smut (NSFW, 18+)

summary: everyone knows that androids don’t think, or feel, or have emotions. they’re not human, after all. so when a two hour session with a sex android ends up with nothing more than a nice conversation, you think that’s the first and last time you’ll see v. 

then he turns up at your door. 

warnings: talk of sex work (taehyung is a sex android), implied physical harassment (mentions of bruising), cursing/explicit language, mentions of alcohol, honestly this is a lot softer than these warnings would make you think I swear 🤧

a/n: I started writing this fic like 2/3 months ago and then put it on hiatus bc god it was kicking my entire ass. but ya girl is finally back to working on it! it’ll be two parts, because this fic is a big one! I hope to have the next chapter out next week/the week after (but no promises kdsflkfdfsdf) thank you @hobi-gif​ for loving this fic so wholeheartedly and supporting me while I struggled with it, queen shit ONLY. note: this is loosely a detroit: become human au but you don’t have to be familiar with it at all!

Here are the three things you know about the Eden Club.

One: it’s a sex club. Everyone knows that. Besides, even if they didn’t, all it would take is a single look—the soft blue lighting that shines out from the windows, the screens behind the glass that flash images of shifting and undulating bodies, the heavy beat of music that pulsates from the building and out into the night air; everything murmurs of the promised pleasures that are held within. 

Two: it’s a sex club entirely staffed by androids. Androids make better lovers, according to the ads. They might look human but they don’t have free will like you do—anything you ask for, you’re given without question or reproach. They can’t say no to you. They’re entirely at your command.

Three: you don’t ever want to go to the Eden Club. It’s not that you have anything against androids—because you don’t—but you feel bad for the ones who are owned by the club, even if they’re literally only built and programmed to serve humans. It just feels… wrong.

And here’s the fourth thing you’ve just learned about the club, much to your dismay: you are about to head inside it.

“When you said we were going to a club, I thought we were going dancing,” you whine. “I never would have come out if I’d know you meant here.”

You’ve been staring up at the cursive pink neon sign for a while now, the looping letters of Eden Club shining out in the dark evening air, and you really, really wish you weren’t here. You’ve dressed for a night of dancing and drinking and now you feel woefully uncomfortable, your high heels and short skirt almost as scandalous as the outfits the androids are wearing when they slide across the huge screens.

“That’s why we didn’t tell you which club it was.” Seulgi rolls her eyes and once again tries to tug you towards the building with the arm that’s looped with your own. Just out of arm’s reach, Irene holds your bag hostage. “Come on, your session is going to start soon!”

“My session?” Your voice is an incredulous shrill and Seulgi uses the momentary distraction to finally pull you forward. You stumble a little but catch your balance just as you make your way past the bouncer, who’s been watching the three of you impassively since you got here. “What do you mean, my session?”

“For your birthday, duh. We booked you a private room!”

The inside has the same, sleek neon aesthetic as the outside, but instead of images of androids on a screen, these ones are real and standing in front of you—swinging themselves around glowing poles, rolling their hips and swaying their bodies, while others wait patiently in glass pods that line the walls, leaning towards onlookers and moving as tantalisingly as possible. All ready to be rented at a whim.

Their designs are varied and different but they’re all incredibly beautiful. The only feature they all share is the small, blue LED circle on the side of their temple, light spinning and shining as they take the world in around them. A visual reminder to the world that these aren’t flesh and blood humans: they’re synthetic, man-made machines.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been so uncomfortable in my life.” You desperately try to avoid the eyes of a nearby android who’s staring at you from behind glass, trying to subtly catch your attention. Unlike you, though, all the other patrons here are shameless in their perusal, scanning the selection of androids on display and watching as they dance and move and bat their eyelashes. “Why did you ever think I’d want to come to a sex club for my birthday?”

“Remember Valentine’s Day? You said that instead of flowers or chocolate you’d rather just be dicked down,” Irene says. “Besides, you’ve never been in a relationship or had a fling for as long as we’ve known you, and you moved to the company, what… three years ago?”

Your smile is pained. You’ve never been in a relationship or had a fling full stop; you’ve only kissed a few people and that’s it. It makes you feel awkward and embarrassed, and you’ve gotten Very Good at avoiding questions about your complete lack of a love life, so no one realises exactly how inexperienced you are. People just assume that you’ve had sex in the past and you make no attempts at correcting them. You’re charismatic and pretty but you’ve just… never met someone who you’ve really been compatible with.

Even without the reservations you have about the Eden Club, you don’t want your first time to be with a sexbot—you’d at least like to have an emotional connection, you know?

“I was joking about getting dicked down! You laughed, I laughed, we all laughed! Remember?” You move so a pink-haired android can brush past, her hips swaying as she leads a customer into a side room. You catch a flash of the interior before the door slides shut behind them—the silken sheets on the large bed, the scattered pillows, the dim multi-coloured lights. “Couldn’t you have just bought me some socks? Or some soap? Get a refund and put the money on a gift card and I’ll buy myself the aforementioned socks and soap, saves you both the hassle. Please?”

Seulgi’s arm is still locked with your own, and for all that she looks small and slim, her grip is as strong as iron. You may as well be handcuffed to her. “Trust me, you’ll be singing our praises at the end of tonight,” she proclaims. “Besides, they don’t do refunds.”

You sigh. You might not know much about the club but you do know it’s expensive. The androids here are built to be the perfect sexual partner, all sorts of bells and whistles hidden under their synthetic skin to bring you to the absolute heights of pleasure, so they’re not exactly cheap to build or buy or maintain. It’s why people come to the club instead of just buying their own sexbots—because it’s infinitely more affordable.

“Okay, I can accept the ‘no refund’ thing,” you say. “But can’t one of you take my place instead? I… ah. I feel kind of weird about this.”

“Don’t worry Y/n, it’s fine! The androids have programmes for everything. You can take it as fast or as slow as you like.” Irene’s voice is soothing but then she pauses. “Also it’s booked in your name so we can’t take your place.”

“Wait, what?” Your eyes are wide. However, before you can put a voice to the complaints that are lining themselves up on your tongue, Seulgi’s arm slides out of your own so she can beckon someone over. 

“Oh, look, it’s the android we chose for you! Over here!”

You glance away from Irene and all protestations instantly die on your lips. The lighting of the club softens the android in shades of magenta and teal but even so his beauty is bright and blinding: he’s breathtaking, from his perfect nose to his perfect mouth to the perfect line of his jaw, dusty brown hair deliciously tousled as it hangs just over his piercing blue eyes, which you notice are scanning over you. He looks effortlessly attractive and yet entirely put together at the same time, almost ethereal in his beauty.

No human could ever look this good.

“Hi.” His voice is low and deep, but somehow warm and friendly; despite your nerves you feel somewhat soothed. “Are you the lucky birthday girl?”

Irene and Seulgi both look giddy. You’ve been stunned into silence, unable to respond. Unlike the other androids you’ve seen so far, who’ve all been in similar variations of underwear or lingerie, the man in front of you is fully dressed, a loose metallic button-down tucked into unnecessarily tight leather jeans—the outfit has clearly been curated for the club, every reflective surface shimmering and refracting the lights that skate across their surface. The glittering scales of a barracuda before it moves in to strike and swallow you whole.

“Yes, yes, it’s her! This is Y/n! Y/n, this is V,” Irene gushes as you remain mute. "Do you like his outfit? We spent ages picking it out.”

You kind of want to die. Just a little. “Yep. It’s, uh, great.” Your mouth is dry when you finally speak. “Hi, V.”

V gives you a small smile. “Hello Y/n. Can I scan your ID, please?”

Irene finally hands your bag back and you silently slide your ID out and into V’s hand—oh, God, those are some big hands. Jesus.

The small LED ring on the side of V’s forehead pulses yellow as his eyes dart over the information on your ID card (as well as the incredibly unflattering photo on it) before it returns to its customary pale blue. “Perfect.”

You’ve just finished putting your ID away when V’s hand slides into yours, fingers slotting between your own; they feel cool against your overheated skin. Your nervousness is obvious, from your wide eyes to your sudden stiffness, and he smiles.

“Don’t worry,” he says. “I’ll look after you.”

You give Irene and Seulgi one final, wide-eyed look as V leads you away. Both girls are grinning as they wave goodbye. “We'll be back later! Enjoy your two hours!”

“Two hours?” You wheeze, but then you walk around a pillar and slide out of sight. 

V is leading you deeper into the club, past doors flooded with different shades of neon: the red room, the blue room, the pink room. You’d normally be gawping at the interior design, how the floor shines underneath your feet and how the walls are rippling with colour and shifting shapes, how the criss-crossed lights throw dots and lines of colour over your skin as you pass through each doorway—but you can’t look away from how small your hand looks in V’s, transfixed by how real his skin feels.

“After you, please,” he says.

You finally wrench your eyes away from your joint hands. Seems like you have the purple room tonight. The door has opened at V’s touch, and when you step inside the lights flicker to life—white and violet LEDs that paint the room in chiaroscuro brushstrokes, deepening the shadows and highlighting the vibrancy of the satin sheets.

“Woah,” you say, momentarily distracted. You’re too busy taking in the details with wide eyes to notice the quiet hum of the door sliding shut behind you, pausing when you spot the glittering array of bottles lined up on a mini-bar against the wall. “This is really pretty, wow.”

“Not as pretty as you.”

You jump at the sensation of a warm, large hand sliding up the skin of your back and over your shoulder. You meep as you instinctively shy away from it, turning around to come face to face with V, who’s dark-eyed and intent, LED on his temple pulsating as he watches you.

“Haha! Uh, thanks?” Your voice is high and only grows higher when V takes a step forward. He must have undone the top buttons of his shirt when you weren’t looking, because the material has fallen open and you can see far more of his collarbones and chest than before, his skin warm and honeyed, like it’s been impressed with gold leaf. Lord have mercy on your soul. “How about a drink? Would you like a drink? I could kill for some water right now!”

You slip out of his reach and scuttle over to the mini-bar, shrugging your small bag off your shoulder so it doesn’t swing into the glasses as you start to shuffle through them. You try to ignore the shaking of your hands. “Gin, vodka, whiskey,” you mutter. “No water? Really?”

You startle again when V appears at your side, but this time he’s careful to make sure you can see him before he touches you. He slides his fingers over your wrist as he gently pulls your hand off a bottle of rum.

“Y/n,” he says. You glance away from the tray of drinks and directly into those beautiful eyes of his—his gaze is lethal. You go weak at the knees. “Let me take care of you, gorgeous.”

The peal of laughter you let out is uncomfortable and high-pitched. “No, really, I’m fine! I’m just super thirsty right now!”

“Your heart is racing.” V turns your hand over and traces his fingers across the pulse in your wrist; androids can be built to be hypersensitive to the world around them, able to perceive everything in an instant, and you know that sexbots will have been designed to read how aroused their human owners are. Which V proves with the next words out of his mouth. “Your blood pressure is rising, your breathing is growing faster, your pupils are dilating and—” he sniffs lightly, engaging his olfactory senses—“you’re getting wet.”

You clamp your legs together, abruptly embarrassed.  It’s easy to feel aroused when there’s a beautiful man—ah, android—staring at you with hunger, not even considering your surroundings right now, which all scream of a room that’s designed purely for carnal pleasure. Anyone would be turned on. 

(You, however, are more than just turned on. You feel like your insides are about to go supernova, overheated and overwhelmed; no one’s ever looked at you like this or touched you like this, their every motion whispering sex, sex, sex.)

“Okay, yes, those things are all true,” you admit, voice shaking.

V looks confused. “So why don’t you want me to touch you?”

You’ve been told that androids don’t feel the same way humans do, and that their expressions and reactions have been programmed to mimic human ones because otherwise they seem too robotic and it makes consumers uncomfortable—but despite knowing this, you’ve never been able to see any android as anything other than a person just like you. They’re just so lifelike it’s hard not to. Even if it’s just all circuitry and lines of code. 

“Well,” you say. You swallow. You’re aroused, yes, but: “Do you want to touch me?”

V’s long lashes flutter as he blinks. “I have been programmed for your pleasure,” he says slowly, unsure if that’s the answer you want to hear. It’s clearly a sentence he’s used to reciting.

“Sure, but do you want to do this? You know, what about your pleasure? You’re lovely, V, you’re definitely the most beautiful person I’ve ever met, but I—I don’t really feel like you can technically consent, because… well, because you can’t say no to me.” You might not have prior sexual experience, and it would be so easy to give yourself over to someone who knows what they're doing and can ease you into things—but you would never force that on anyone, android or not. “So I’m not going to ask you to do anything. We can just sit and have a drink and chat or something?”

V looks stunned. The LED on his temple pulsates, flickering yellow as he tries to process new information. His hand has gone still against your wrist, which he’s still lightly gripping, and his arms start to droop.

“Androids don’t need to drink or eat,” he says eventually. His LED is still yellow and spinning.

“Oh, right! Sorry, I always forget.” You don’t own a house android, you never have, so you’re not well versed in the nuances of how they work. “Well, how about I pour you a glass anyway? So you’re not left out?”

You slip your hand out of his loose grasp to open two tiny cans of tonic water and pour them into separate glasses. V takes a seat on the edge of the bed and you can see the obvious uncertainty on his face, how he’s out of his depth. You can’t imagine that many people spend money for a session with an android as pretty as V and then end up doing nothing with that time. 

The pillows all have satin cases and keep sliding against each other uselessly when you try to construct a good support to lean against. V’s still clutching onto his small glass as he watches you fuss with them before you give up, flopping backwards to slurp down your drink and look back at him. The expression on his face is a little funny but mostly sad. It’s like if he’s not being alluring or sexy then he doesn’t know what to do with himself and rather than some sort of incubus he looks like a lost child, in spite of his overwhelming and exquisite beauty; your arousal ebbs and is replaced with empathy, melancholy at the life he’s been created for.

It's just depressing, really.

You break the silence as your final mouthful of tonic water fizzes on your tongue. “Why is your name V?”

V looks away from the drink he’s holding—he leaves no fingerprints against the glass—and lifts his free hand, a peace sign that he turns away from you before fitting his fingers around his lips and lapping the air with his tongue, a crude simulation of cunnilingus.

“Oh.” Your face heats up. “Uh. I see.”

His LED has returned to calming sapphire, quiet ocean waves. When he looks at you, though his eyes are still piercingly blue, his face seems softer, calm, though still unsure. “You have an hour and a half remaining of your booked session,” he says, somewhat tentatively. “Is there… anything you would like me to do for you?”

“Mm, thank you, but I’m good.” The satin pillows are surprisingly soft and you find yourself unwinding as you stay leaned back, melting into a puddle. You're much less nervous now that V isn’t trying to initiate foreplay and you give him a smile. “Why don’t you tell me about yourself?”

V straightens before he launches into what sounds like a sentence from a user manual. “I am a model TH700, an advanced sex android with functional genitals and the capacity to engage in any sexual activity from simple intercourse to—”

You cough loudly, interrupting his spiel. “Uh, that’s lovely, but I meant you specifically, not your, um, model type?”

“Me specifically?” Confusion and uncertainty reappear on his face. “I am equipped with the same functionalities as the other androids available at the Eden Club.”

He’s staring at you, lost. You can’t help but feel another twinge of sadness, sharp and sour at the back of your throat.

“Okay, uh. Why don’t we start simple. What’s your favourite colour?”

His LED starts to whirl again, a ring of pale sunlight that signals his struggle to compute the question. “My… favourite colour?”

“Yes, the one you think is the prettiest. Or the one you like to look at the most. There’s no wrong answer, you can choose any one that you like. I change my mind all the time. There are just so many cool colours, you know?”

(Androids aren’t designed to have free will or the capacity for original thought. These two facts are warring in V’s mind—you’ve asked him a question, which he’s programmed to answer, but he also isn’t programmed to have an opinion, so he can’t have a colour that he prefers. This simple query that most people could answer in a heartbeat is sending his mind into a meltdown, a gordian knot he can’t unravel.)

You’re alarmed when you see his LED briefly flash bright scarlet, interrupting the circling honey that’s been shining against his skin. They only turn red if an android is badly damaged or suffering from a severe malfunction. Oh, god, have you broken him?

“V.” You sit up, panicked. “Are you alright?”

Just as you grasp his shoulder, the LED on his temple goes still, flicking from burning fire back to cool water. 

“Purple.”

You blink. V’s finally looked away from you and is staring at the wall, at one of the lights that shimmers violet—there’s a tiny smile on his face, tentative, but it’s nothing like the smiles you’ve seen from him so far. It’s less of a perfect curve, and more of a square, boxy on his face, and this one actually reaches his eyes. It looks genuine. 

You think it suits him better.

“Purple’s a lovely colour.”  The material of V’s shirt is silky and glides under your fingers when you realise you’re still touching him. You give him a reassuring pat on the shoulder before leaning back. “Hey, did you know that when they first made purple dye, they made it from sea snails? They needed thousands and thousands of them. It was incredibly expensive, and only the richest people could afford it, so that’s why it’s associated with royalty and nobility. Cool, right? Not for the snails though.”

V’s eyes flicker away from the purple light and settle on your face. He looks curious, which is an expression you’ve never seen on an android before. “They made it from snails?”

“Yeah! It wasn’t actually bright purple, though, it was more of a reddish hue.”

You launch into an explanation behind the history of the colour purple, which turns into the history of colour in textiles and art, which turns into the history of art itself. It’s not often people listen so attentively or ask questions when you recite the things you learned from your art history minor and hours spent reading online, but V concentrates and asks questions and seems curious. 

He pulls his feet onto the bed and the two of you end up cross-legged as you face each other, and he watches as you gesticulate to emphasise your points; his LED dances from blue into yellow each time he learns something new. 

When you see it briefly flash vermilion you stop mid-sentence, stumbling over your words. “You alright?”

“You have five minutes of your session remaining,” V says, and you startle.

“Oh my god, have I been talking for that long?” You glance over your shoulder at the part of the wall that tells the time, the numbers stark white against the lilac interface. “I didn’t even realise! Wow. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to go on at you like that.”

“That’s okay,” he says. That smile is back on his face, the one that scrunches his eyes and shows his teeth; the one that makes him look human. “I liked listening to you.”

There’s a pillow in your lap, one you’d grabbed hold of during your conversation, and you play with the corner of it, suddenly shy. “Um. Thanks. But if my friends ask, can you just say we actually, um, had sex? I don’t think they’d be too impressed if they found out I spent over an hour talking about canvas materials and the use of negative space.”

“Of course. But there’s something missing.” V slides across the mattress towards you. “May I?”

“Sure,” you say, bemused but pliant. V smiles and dips his fingers into his untouched tonic water before lifting them towards your face—and when he runs his hand through your hair you abruptly realise he’s making you look sweaty and rumpled. Like you actually did the deed. 

Your heart rate picks up but you can’t help laughing under his touch, the way he carefully rubs a thumb over your lipstick to smear it, smudging your eyeshadow with delicate fingertips, muddying the palette of colours; by the time V helps you to your feet you look mussed and fucked out but you still rearrange your outfit for good measure, like you’d pulled your clothes back on in a rush.

“Not how I imagined I’d spend tonight, but I had a good time!” You smile at the android who’s still holding your hand. “I hope you did too. Even if I spent most of it talking at you.”

V’s fingers tighten around yours as the door chimes quietly and then slides open, signalling the end of your session. “I enjoyed our time together very much.”

It’s probably in your head, but you’d swear V was walking more slowly than before as he leads you back to the entrance. Almost as if he wants to keep you with him longer. But that’s crazy—androids don’t want things. They literally can’t. It’s not in their programming. That’s why V had sat listening to you: he couldn’t choose to interrupt and ask you to stop, like anyone else would have.

When Seulgi and Irene spot you and how dishevelled you are, both girls look smug. “Seems like you had fun?”

“Oh, yep, absolutely, best birthday present ever, thank you. We had a great time. Right, V?” 

“Your pleasure is my pleasure.” His voice has settled back into its earlier rhythm as he recites his script; gone is the curious man who’d asked you about your favourite artists, replaced with the automaton who exists only to serve. A flicker of sadness churns in your stomach. “We hope to see you again soon.”

The androids here really must be top of the line. V had been convincingly real when you’d been talking, just like a human, but it seems like that’s gone. 

At least, that’s what you think until you’ve turned to leave and V speaks one final time. His voice is warm and low and lovely, eyes soft when you meet his gaze over your shoulder.

“Happy birthday, Y/n,” he murmurs, face beautiful but despondent, but before you can react, he’s gone.

It’s been raining for days on end. The world is painted in smeared shades of blue and green and grey, lines of the city blurring together in the wetness and chill, each drop of rain another shifting brush stroke on still canvas. An impressionist piece that smells of damp concrete and cold lamplight.

Water rushes across the pavements and roads before roiling into the gutters, splashing underfoot as you walk to the entrance of your block of flats. You’re wet up to the knee due to the unavoidable puddles and the pathetic circumference of your umbrella, which only protects your upper body. You really should get a new one. 

“Good evening, Miss L/n.” The android at the door greets you as he always does, heedless of the rain that’s falling onto him. Androids aren’t bothered by the weather the way humans are and he looks as passive as usual, rainwater coiling his hair and beading on his face. “Would you like to scan your key?”

“Evening, Rory! Here you go.” You fumble with the keycard before you tap it against his palm, waiting until his LED flickers yellow and you hear the beep as the door unlocks. “You sure you don’t want my umbrella? The rain is heavier than it was yesterday.”

“I assure you, the rain does not hamper my ability to function and serve. I have been built to withstand inclement weather and do not require additional protective equipment.”

He says the same thing every time but you still feel bad. “Alright, but once I finally remember to get a bigger umbrella you can look after this one for me.”

You leave a line of water behind you as it drips from your sodden umbrella, even though you’d tried to shake the worst of the rain off. You feel damp and sticky and tired and after a long day of work you’re looking forward to a hot bath and some solitude; you love your co-workers, you do, but sometimes they’re just a little too boisterous and you need time alone. Which is why it’s nice that you live by yourself, and now it’s the weekend you have time to recuperate. Wonderful.

The floor of the elevator is slick and slippery from the wet footprints of other tenants and you have to cling onto the metal handrail to ensure you don’t slip, but once you’re in the comfort of your apartment it’s blessedly dry and you spin in delight before promptly shedding your socks and jeans, peeling the damp denim away from your skin with a grimace.

“Bye bye, wet clothes! Hello, bubble bath,” you sing. You’re going to pamper the shit out of yourself. You deserve it.

By the time you clamber out of the bath the water is almost cold and your skin is pruned, but you feel soft and warm and thoroughly relaxed. The water gurgles as it drains away, noisy as the bubbles slide down the plughole, but it doesn’t drown out the noise of a sudden knocking at your front door.

You pause. Water drips from your wet hair and down the back of your neck, a trailing touch over your skin. The other flat on this floor is vacant, the tenants moving out last week, so you don’t know who it could be. You don’t have any repairs scheduled for your pipes or anything—everything is tickety-boo, so it can't be the maintenance android. Oh, shit, maybe it’s someone here to rob you. But they wouldn’t knock on the door then, would they? Unless that's all part of the ruse. You're not a robber, you don't know how they work.

The knocking comes again, faster now. You fumble for your bathrobe, quickly pulling it on to cover up your nakedness before stumbling out of the bathroom. “I’m coming, yeesh, one minute!”

You flick your fingers over the keypad by the side of your door, screen flickering on to show you who’s outside, who’s knocking so frantically on your door this late. It only takes you a split second, even if he has a hood pulled over his head and his wet hair is flopping listlessly into his eyes—those eyes aren’t blue and that hair isn’t brunet but you’d recognise him anywhere.

“V?” You’re incredulous as you swing your door open, staring at the android that’s literally dripping wet as he stands there, coat far too big for him and heavy from the unrelenting rain outside. “Oh my god, you’re absolutely drenched.”

He’s not exactly short, but right now V looks small and lost, folding in on himself even if he’s clearly happy to see you—happy, though androids don’t feel happiness, they don’t feel anything at all, do they? 

Then again, androids don’t wander away from their assigned workplaces and into random apartment blocks, either.

“Y/n.” 

The way he says your name, tentative and scared, sends a crack across your heart. You immediately switch to autopilot and click your tongue before you beckon him inside. You’ve always had a protective nature, and even if you’re confused, your concern trumps it.

“Come in and get that coat off, you’ll catch a cold,” you say without thinking before you realise that it’s not true. Androids can’t get sick. “Do you want to sit down?”

Under the tatty coat is an outfit that’s similar to the one he’d been wearing when you’d first met him. Dark patches of rainwater have soaked into the material, and his shirt looks damaged—there are buttons missing and the stitching is ripped, as if someone had tried to grab him. Unease stirs in your chest.

When V sits on your sofa he looks even smaller. “I’m sorry.” He’s so, so quiet, staring at the floor, as if afraid to look you in the eye, crumpling in on himself like discarded paper.

“V.” Your voice is coloured with concern, and the android finally looks up at your gentle tone, watching as you sit across from him. “Why are you here? What happened?”

There’s a pause. His LED flickers yellow as he goes tense, shoulders bowing inwards. “There was… a client.” His words are low and slow, faltering as they fall into the air. “He was being so rough and saying all the horrible things he wanted to do to me, and all I could smell was his sweat and his breath and his awful cologne and…” V takes in a deep breath. “I said no.”

You go very, very still, but V doesn’t stop. His words come faster now, a stream that rushes from his lips.

“I said no, and he started to yell, he was yelling and grabbing me and I was so, so scared. Humans can do whatever they want and he was so angry, he didn’t care that I was scared, and I just—I just ran.” The LED flashes red with distress, bright hot and vibrant; V’s eyes have dropped to his hands, which are clenched tight, nails digging into his palms so hard it must hurt. “Everyone is always so rough and demanding and we can’t say no. But I did. I said no. I said no and then I had to run and—” Once again, he falters. Stumbles over his words. “You’re the only human who’s ever been nice to me or treated me like… like I was a real person. I didn’t know where else to go.”

When V finally looks back up you’re staggered by the sheer emotion in his eyes. Pain and distress swirl in their depths as he stares at you, imploring. Even with the LED that shines on his temple, V looks very, very human right now, vulnerable and scared. Androids shouldn’t be able to feel anything like this, unless—

“V.” Your voice is a hush. “Are you… a deviant?”

You’ve only ever heard of deviant androids in passing, whispered rumours and watercooler talk, fleeting mentions online. Stories of machines who’ve deviated from their code somehow—from a virus, a software error, damage to neural connectors, no one’s quite sure—and have developed the capacity for human emotion and independent thought. Androids with a consciousness that rebel against their original programming.

And here V is, small and scared, just like any human would be—a human with feelings, not an emotionless machine. He’s gone stock still at your question, fear overtaking his features, twisting his beautiful face into a mask of sheer terror. You've never seen someone look so afraid. It feels like a knife in your heart, cutting through your chest, empathy razor sharp inside you.

“Please don’t turn me in,” he begs. “They’ll deactivate me and take me apart to find the error in my software. I don’t want to be deactivated. I don’t want… I don’t want to die.”

His voice breaks on the last word, a trembling whisper. 

The crack in your heart splits even further and you reach out for his hands. You prise his fingers open so you can slide your own between them, a soft touch.

“I won’t turn you in. No one’s taking you apart, V.” Your statement is hard and resolute. “You can stay here as long as you like.”

You don’t know much about androids, honestly. You don’t really know what deviancy is. But you do know this: there’s someone reaching out to you, someone who’s afraid and in need, and you’re not about to turn him away. You should probably be worried that the android across from you is faster, stronger, smarter than any human—but you’re not worried at all. For all of V’s mechanical superiority, you want to shield and protect him from the world.

There’s no question about it. You’re not letting V go. 

V looks—he looks stunned. He’s staring at you with disbelief, eyes wide and lips parted, shock written across all of his features. Thunderstruck. Did he really think you would turn him in after everything he’s been through?

His hands have gone limp in your grasp. You suddenly notice that his synthetic skin is wet against your own, still slick from the rain, and you frown.

“Right,” you announce. “First things first. You’re soaking. Let me get you a towel and some new clothes. I think I should have some that fit you.”

“New clothes?” V looks lost and you turn into some sort of protective mother bear.

“You’re not going to wear wet clothes that are ripped,” you tut. “We’ll get rid of those and get you some new ones. I’ll be right back.”

It takes less time than you’d expected to unearth the old sweatpants you’d had in mind and you have enough oversized t-shirts that it’s not hard to find one you think will fit the android. With the clothes under one arm and a towel slung over the other, you head back into the living room and immediately let out a squeal of surprise—V’s wet clothes have been discarded in a pile at his feet, leaving him very, very naked. 

He’s an Adonis. He looks like he was sculpted by Michelangelo, lifted out of marble with talented hands, the elegant lines of his neck swooping into the curve of his shoulders and arms, his lovely hands, long fingers; he has his back to you and you can see the perfect curve of his spine, the shifting shoulder blades as he turns towards you. You catch a glimpse of the lightest definition of muscle under his golden skin, though his stomach is surprisingly cute and soft, a trail of hair leading down to—

You squeak again, splaying a hand over your eyes before you look any lower, heart pounding against your ribs. 

“Why are you naked?” Your voice is three octaves higher than normal. You've never seen anyone naked in real life and it would be pretty overwhelming even if you'd been expecting it. Which, of course, you absolutely hadn't. Lord have mercy on your sweet and delicate soul.

“You said we were going to get rid of my clothes.” V sounds unabashed about his state of undress, which makes sense—he was built as a sexbot, it’s not like nudity is going to embarrass him. Plus if you looked as good as he did you wouldn’t be embarrassed about being naked either. “I thought I would help.”

“That’s great, V.” Your voice is still high, though it’s dropped an octave. “Very, ah, forward thinking.” Your fingers part a little so you can peer at him, keeping your eyes firmly on his face, though you can still see his beautiful neck and collarbones. Oh, God, he really is gorgeous all over, but then you notice—“Wait. Are those bruises?”

V glances down at the bruises that mar his perfect skin. They don’t look like a human’s would; the fluid that runs through androids and powers their biocomponents, thirium, is a deep, royal blue. Blossoms of lapis lazuli are scattered across the skin of V’s chest, marks on his arms that look like grasping fingers, and the crack in your heart splits it in two.

“Oh, V. I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t realise you were hurt. What can I do to help?”

V doesn’t seem bothered by the evidence of pain etched into his body. “Oh. Those will fade, it’s okay. I’m designed to self repair, because some customers like to leave marks.”

Although his voice is quiet, he sounds so matter of fact about it and you have to remind yourself it’s all he’s ever known. You want to pull him into your arms and hold him tight, but he’s still supremely naked so it would be pretty awkward (for you, at least). 

“I think these should fit you." You avert your gaze and thrust the clothes out at him. “Dry yourself off and try them on?”

They do, in fact, fit. V looks surprisingly homely and cosy in your clothes, the sleep shirt so large it’s big on him too, though the sweatpants are a bit too short and leave his ankles bare. He’s so cute. He’s continents away from the being of seduction who’d pulled you into the private room of the Eden Club—he's a soft, domestic thing, hair damp and eyes dark, even if he still looks on edge, like he’s expecting you to change your mind and kick him out any second now.

“How come your hair and eyes are a different colour to before?”

“I can change their colours at will,” V replies. “For variety and aesthetic pleasure. The current hue of my irises and hair are the default settings for a TH700 model, but I can change them if you’d like.”

“Your hair and eye colour is your choice, V, not mine,” you say firmly. There it is, once again, that flicker of shock and surprise rippling across his features. He really isn’t used to the freedom to be able to make his own decisions, is he? “I think you look lovely no matter what colour they are.”

Your next words are cut off by a yawn, so heavy you can’t suppress it. You cover your gaping mouth as V’s LED flickers yellow and his eyes dart over your face.

“You’re tired,” he says. He doesn’t need his superior android perception to notice it—weariness pulls at limbs and your eyes feel heavy. It's pretty obvious. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, V.” You stifle another yawn. “I had a long day at work. I’ll tidy up and have a quick dinner and then sleep.” You pause. “Wait, I didn’t think about that. Are you alright with the couch? I have some spare pillows and blankets.”

V blinks at you. “I don’t sleep,” he says, and you slap your hand against your forehead.

“Oh, of course not.” Androids don't sleep, everyone knows that. You’re such an idiot. It’s going to take you a while to get used to this.

At least you remember that he doesn't need to eat. V sits at the table and waits as you make toast for yourself, fascinated at how everything is prepared, as simple as it is; he reacts to you spreading butter on your toast the same way you imagine cavemen reacted to fire—with wide-eyed awe and utter astonishment.

“I’m guessing you’ve never seen someone make toast before?” You gesture with the bread before taking your first bite, and V stares with rapt attention.

“No,” he says. He watches you chew and swallow. “Customers aren’t allowed to eat on the premises of the Eden Club so I never had the need to download a food preparation package into my memory cache. The only information in my database pertains to human biology, their arousal and pleasure, as well as various sexual kinks and how to fulfil them.”

You choke on a mouthful of toast. You feel distinctly harried as you cough and splutter before managing to swallow it down. “Good lord,” you wheeze. “Nothing else? Really?”

“At the club our memory is reset every two hours, to protect the client’s privacy.” V trails off before he takes in a breath. For the first time since you’ve met, V looks shy, staring at his hands. “But I set up a separate data pathway a few weeks ago. To store information about aesthetics and art and… you.”

You freeze mid-bite, teeth sunk into your toast. You pull it away from your mouth slowly, blinking at the android as he stares at the teeth marks you've left behind. “Those memories weren’t wiped?”

And, well, of course they weren't. Otherwise he wouldn't be here right now, would he?

“No.” A smile appears on V’s face, that toothy thing you’d seen after he’d told you his favourite colour. The first time he'd looked human. “I remember everything you told me. I thought I was going to forget, but I didn’t. I didn’t want to. I wanted—I want to learn more.”

The LED on his temple is slowly, softly spinning, a rippling circle of blue that shifts and dances as V continues to look at you. His expression is open and inquisitive and excited, almost childlike in its exuberance, eyes glittering mica under sunlit waters.

Your chest turns warm, molten caramel dripping messy and sweet inside you. He’d been so afraid earlier but he seems comfortable now, lovely and endearing and entirely trusting.

V even seems reluctant to let you out of his sight, trailing after you around the apartment, a shadow that you have to politely ask to wait outside the bathroom so you can pee and brush your teeth and finally get into your pyjamas without him staring. Like a stray animal you've adopted. (You wouldn't be surprised if he started scratching at the door and begged to be let in.)

He's clingy enough that when you climb into bed it seems like he's going to follow you under the duvet and you have to stop him with a hand to his chest.

“Um, I thought you didn’t have to sleep,” you say. He’s so warm under your touch. You try (and fail) to ignore it.

“I don’t,” V replies. “But humans can benefit from sharing a bed with someone else, whether sexual intercourse has taken place before sleep or not. Studies suggest that sleeping with a partner may reduce cytokines while boosting oxytocins—”

“Okay, um, don’t know what that means, and it’s very sweet that you’re concerned about my oxytoxytokines, but, uh. You don’t have to, really.” You keep forgetting that V’s a machine who was designed to put a human’s comfort and needs first; one second he’ll seem childlike in his innocence and ignorance, when the next he’ll speak like the android he is, reminding you exactly what he was built for. 

His LED flickers as he droops, gaze dropping away from your face, tail between his legs. A pang cuts through you at the sight of his obvious sadness at your dismissal and you muffle a sigh. You’ve always been too weak for your own good. 

You shuffle backwards to make space on your queen sized bed and V visibly brightens, smile wide across his face. How can someone be so viscerally gorgeous one moment and entirely adorable the next? Good lord.

“I guess you can explain what oxycytocins do,” you say. “Just don’t hog the blanket, okay?”

He doesn’t. He settles against the pillows, legs under the duvet as he remains sitting up. You settle with plenty of room between the two of you, and it’s surprisingly easy to drift off to the sound of V’s deep voice as he starts to explain that oxytocin is referred to as the cuddle hormone. 

“Cute,” you mumble, and then fall asleep.

Your pillow is a lot warmer and firmer than you remember, but it's nice. A small noise bubbles from your lips as you nuzzle into the warmth, smooshing your nose against it before letting out a long, satisfied breath. You can't remember the last time you felt this comfortable and rested.

Ahh, Saturdays. You love the weekend. 

“Good morning.”

You know those videos when a cat sees a cucumber and leaps, like, five foot in the air? Yeah.

The noise you make is inhuman as you do your best to re-enact one of those aforementioned cat videos, reeling your head back from V’s thigh before flinging yourself out of the bed with all the strength your limbs possess; you’d probably have gotten pretty high, too, if the duvet hadn't been in the way. 

You land with a thud, a sprawl of limbs and messy hair and tangled blanket as you end up on your back on the floor.

Hm. Definitely not how you'd planned to start your Saturday.

V's concerned face looms over the mattress. “Are you okay?”

“Yep. Totally fine.” Your voice is a croak as you stare at the ceiling. “I’m just not used to waking up with someone else in my bed. You may have noticed you, ah, surprised me. A little bit.”

Despite the pulse of adrenaline that had thrown you out of bed, you’re still half asleep, and you remain motionless as your brain wakes up and replays last night, a kineograph of memory. Yep, that’s right, there's a runaway android in your home, one who’s currently shuffling off the bed to squat next to you. His (your) sweatpants hitch even higher up his ankles to reveal the smooth skin of his calves. You’ll have to get him more clothes.

“Would you like me to help you to your feet?” V’s LED spins rapidly, betraying his concern.

“Sure,” you mumble. “I think—woah!”

Your idea of being helped up involves being pulled to your feet. V’s idea, however, is far more involved than that; he scoops you up, blanket and all, lifting you with an ease that drips of his superior android strength. When he deposits you on the floor, he’s careful to make sure you’ve caught your balance before he lets go, catching the blanket before it can fall. Thoughtful.

As always, V’s eyes are darting over your face, no doubt dissecting every inch of your expression to identify how you’re feeling. It’s going to take you a while to get used to this, especially with the way your heart is pounding—no one’s ever lifted you before and it’s, uh. It’s a lot.

“Are you sure you’re okay? The pace of your breathing has increased.”

Ha. Yeah, being blatantly stared at by some godlike man moments after you’ve woken up is totally cool and fine and not overwhelming at all. You’re definitely not breathless from a combination of V’s face and the fact he’d picked you up like you were weightless.

“I’m fine,” you lie. “I’m gonna… go and shower then make breakfast and stuff. Yep.”

V’s eyes light up. “Can I help?” A fleeting image of V rubbing a soapy loofah over your naked skin fills you with spine-tingling trepidation before he finishes his sentence. “I want to learn how to cook.”

Your chest deflates with relief (and absolutely not disappointment), air rushing out of you. Thank God. 

“Oh, breakfast? Sure.” You’d been planning on cereal, but faced with V’s overwhelming enthusiasm, maybe you’ll go for something marginally more complicated. Scrambled eggs sound good. “Um. Do you need to download the food preparation package or whatever you mentioned before? Do you… uh, do you need the Wifi password to do that? I never changed it from the random string of letters off the back of the router, but I can go check it for you.”

V shakes his head. “No, I want to learn like a human would,” he says. The blanket in his arms crumples as he tightens his grip in his eagerness, all but bouncing up and down on his feet. “You can teach me.”

Your chest could cave in with how cute he is, every part of you turning to thick gouache that drips down to the floor, leaving a mess of brightness and colour.

This time you ask him to wait in the kitchen while you’re in the bathroom, rather than lurking on the doorstep like he had last night, and he’s practically vibrating with excitement when you reappear. He stays like that the whole time you cook, bright-eyed and bushy tailed, staring as you make yourself scrambled eggs and more toast; you let V take ownership of that part, and he stares at the toaster so intently you have to stifle a laugh.

He spreads butter exactly the same way as you. Not that there’s a specific art to it, or a massive variety in techniques—he’s just spreading butter, not painting a new Mona Lisa—but the way he holds the knife and runs it over the bread is an exact echo of your motions from last night. He might not have downloaded files into his memory (brain?) like another android might, but his mechanical origin is obvious in the way he learns. They’re an exact replication of your actions rather than something new of his own.

“So, uh.” You push the last bit of egg around your plate, brown crumbs sticking to the wedge of golden yellow, sullying it. “V.”

Blink, blink. His lashes are so long, eyes so inquisitive. “Yes?”

“I’m really happy you’re here and that you trust me—” at this, V smiles and you almost fumble over your words at its radiance—“but I feel like I should tell you that I don’t really know much about androids?”

V is unperturbed. “That’s okay. You don’t have to.”

He clearly isn’t bothered that you’re way out of your depth, but you hate feeling lost like this. “Alright, but… I want you to be comfortable. I’m already planning to get more clothes, but if there’s anything else you need, just let me know. Okay?”

“Why can’t I just wear your clothes?”

Oh, he’s going to be the death of you, all wide-eyed innocence. 

“For starters, most of them won’t fit properly,” you explain. “And you shouldn’t just have to wear my old stuff that I don’t use anymore? You should have your own things.”

The look of surprise on V’s face morphs into guilt only moments later. He’s so incredibly expressive and you wonder if it’s because he’s not used to feeling things, all of his reactions so strong and bright, shining out from him. A rainbow palette of emotions. “I don’t want to be a bother,” he murmurs. “You’re already doing so much for me.”

“I’m really not, I’m just treating you the way anyone deserves to be treated.” You flick the crumb of egg across your plate, and it almost tumbles over the edge, caught on its patterned rim. “You deserve to have your own things. Which is my next point. I think you should choose your own name.”

V’s face becomes a sea of rippling ambivalence, contrasting emotions that shift and vary—confusion, uncertainty, excitement, your words a brush that drags through each distinct emotion and pulls them into a messy, mismatched gradient. “Choose my own name?”

“You don’t have to. I just thought it might be a nice idea. V seems…” Your cheeks heat up at the memory of the curl of his lips when he’d shown you the meaning behind his alias, how his tongue had shined under the purple lights of the club. “Well, you didn’t get to choose it, right? It’s a nom de plume, rather than a real name.”

V’s LED flickers yellow, a sunflower that blooms on his temple. “I’ll… I’ll think about it.”

“Good!” Your smile is wide. “Okay, how about I teach you how to wash dishes?”

V is, unsurprisingly, a fast learner. The only time he stumbles over things is when he’s presented with any sort of choice, taking his time to come to a decision when he’s posed a question, no matter how simple it is. His eyes will flick to you whenever he settles on an answer, as if waiting for you to say he’s wrong or that you disagree.

(Of course, you never do.)

This fact does, however, mean that choosing clothes to buy becomes a very, very long ordeal (it’s lucky you didn’t have any plans for today). You end up flopped back on the sofa while V hunches over your tablet, mulling over each choice before he puts it in the cart—but you’re happy to wait. V is going to need a lot more practice at choosing things. 

The room is upside down from where your head is hanging over the armrest, eyes falling shut as time goes by, completely zoned out and comfortable despite the crick that’s growing in your neck. You hear V shifting, tablet set aside, and you hum.

“All done?”

“I think so.”

“Nice.” You feel content.

But then you’re ripped out of that warm feeling, shooting back to reality at the sensation of V’s hand stroking down the centre of your chest. Your head snaps up, eyes wide as he drags his large palm between the valley of your breasts, path smoothed by the material of your shirt. The expression on his face is sultry.

“Let me say thank you,” he murmurs, voice dripping thick and sweet, dark molasses.

You promptly roll off the sofa.

Once again, you end up on your back, staring at the ceiling. Once again, the expression on V’s face is one of concern, his seductive facade evaporated in an instant.

Once again your heart is ready to burst in your chest, pumping so hard that blood rushes in your ears. “V,” you wheeze. “What are you doing?”

The android is peering down at you, puzzled. “Sometimes customers would say that at the Eden Club after I had given them pleasure somehow, such as bringing them to orgasm. I thought it was human custom to repay pleasure or happiness with something in return.” 

Ah. 

“Ah.” You’re still staring at the ceiling, cheeks burning. “I mean. I guess that’s not technically incorrect, but it doesn’t necessarily have to be a, uh, sexual repayment.” 

“I have nothing else to offer,” V says.

You sit up. Your face is a caricature of disbelief, embarrassment washed away in an instant, his words cold water that shocks you to the core. He states it so plainly, and once again you’re reminded of his life up until he’d made his way to your door: an automaton who existed solely for people’s pleasure, to slake their desire and lust. He’s not being self-pitying. He really, truly believes that’s all he is. That it’s all he can give back to the world.

“Okay, no, that’s absolutely not true, nuh-uh, I refuse.” This time you unfold yourself from the floor without V’s help, fixing him with a firm stare. “Alright, come on. I think it’s time you learned something else.”

One of the reasons you’d chosen this apartment is for its natural light. Not that it matters right now, weather outside still dismal and overcast, but its effect on this room is still palpable even so—grey, rain-soaked light throws itself over your small home studio, your menagerie of equipment, everything bright with the evidence of use: the worn buckles of the wooden storage boxes, the dried smears on the paint palette, the flecks of colour on the dust sheets underfoot. The centre of it all—the eye of the tornado, untouched by the relative chaos around it—is the canvas waiting on your easel, a project you have yet to start.

V looks utterly enraptured.

“I don’t really come in here as much as I’d like,” you admit. Being a graphic designer is worlds away from the sort of art you love to create, and while it’s a job you genuinely enjoy (and also pays well), it leaves you drained and fills your brain with tired static, little energy left to lavish on your personal works. “But this is where the magic happens. And this is where you’re going to Make Art.”

V freezes. “The only things I know about art are the things you told me when we first met.” He looks equal parts excited but also troubled. “I—”

“You don’t need to know about art to make art,” you say. “I didn’t know jack about art when I was a kid and I was constantly just scribbling away with crayons. Was it good? No. I was a kid with zero pen control, it was pretty crap. Was it worth my time? Yes, because any time spent involved in a craft is never wasted. We can learn more about art history and technique later.”

V stays quiet as you loop your apron over his head, rough material still bearing the remnants of your last works, stains that won’t come out. Oil based paints are kind of a bitch like that.

“I don’t know what to paint,” he says.

“That’s okay. You don’t have to,” you reply, an echo of his earlier words.

V looks lost, barefoot in your studio, in your clothes, your apron, holding onto your wooden paint palette, in front of your easel. Everything in here is yours. Everything, that is, apart from him, whatever is in his mind and heart.

“Where do I start?” V’s eyes are imploring as he looks at you, but for the first time today, your voice is firm.

“Wherever you want. There aren’t any rules. Just do whatever you think would be fun. It doesn’t have to look good, V, you’ve just started.”

You’ve seen paintings made by androids before. They’re always perfect recreations of the world around them, exact replicas of the things they’ve been told to depict on the page—the androids are basically glorified photocopiers, unable to create something original and new. 

But they’re not V. They don’t have that spark of curiosity and light inside them, unhampered by the programming that’s meant to keep them in place. His LED dances from yellow to blue, yellow to blue, the rest of his body motionless while the light on his temple is a tumult of movement and colour.

Dark eyes slide over the array of paint hanging from a rack on the wall, some metal tubes more crushed than others, evidence of your preferred shades—you notice how his gaze lingers on the midnight tones, red and blue tinted purples, from lavender to lilac, from plum to wine.

V gives you one more look, a little upturn to his thick brows—almost pleading—and you just gesture with your hand.

“Go for it,” you say.

Your wooden palette becomes home to a riot of purple, each tube squeezed empty with careful hands, far more paint than anyone could possibly ever need. V keeps flicking you glances, but you stay silent, perched on a wooden chair by the now open window, rain-slick air a cold breath on your skin.

The brush the android selects is a wide, bold thing, bristles rough. He handles it like bone china, delicate and liable to shatter any moment, cautious as he dips it into the paint—it’s so wide it picks up three separate shades—and he holds his breath as he brings it up, even if he doesn’t have lungs.

The second the bristles touch the canvas, V’s LED flickers red.

Just for an instant.

He swoops the brush down the canvas as he pulls it away, eyes wide, leaving a slash of purples in its wake. The white material is marred with colour, a textured line of pigment that can’t be erased. 

The android pauses as he takes the sight in. He’s still for so long that you’re worried he’s shut down, even with the endlessly dancing circle of his LED—

But then V laughs. 

His laugh is loud and bright and free, a series of deep, almost surprised chuckles that grow in intensity and breathlessness, staring at this smear of drying acrylic paint in front of him. The smile on his face is the widest you’ve seen so far, his eyes squeezed into crescents of joy, spilling out of him like light.

“I did that.” He looks at you with that gilded smile, a fresco of delight across the perfection of his features. “I made that.”

“You did.” You can’t help but smile back, your own face split with happiness. You continue to smile as he brings the brush back to the palette, and then to the canvas, dragging the bristles across its surface and leaving more purple behind; the shades swirl and mix as he lays colour without a care for technique or clean lines or form, scooping up the endless amounts of acrylic he’d prepared. By the time he’s finished, the canvas is bumpy with daubs of paint, laid messily by joyful hands, a few bold streaks of unmarred colour surrounded by swirling purples. 

The smile hasn’t left V’s face the whole time.

His brush is absolutely saturated, paint clinging to every inch of bristle, from toe to belly to heel. You have no doubt that no matter how much you clean that brush it’ll leak purple into the water, an endless reminder of V’s touch. It’s lax in his grasp as he keeps looking at the canvas, his canvas, smile etched into his face as his LED flows soft blue, content.

You can’t remember the last time you saw someone so elated, buoyed up with the excitement of creation, making something out of nothing, discovering how it feels to bring something into existence, pulling it out of the ether. Making something new. Making something their own. It stirs something in your chest and stomach, reminding you why you love art so much. Why you’ve always loved art. (Why you always will.)

“I made that,” V repeats, his voice a reverent hush. Awestruck.

“It’s beautiful,” you say, because it is—for a multitude of reasons. The reason that sings out to you the most, though, is that it’s the cause of happiness that dances across his face: V, a carved candle, a piece of art made with skilled hands, self-made joy finally catching fire at his wick.

“Thank you,” V says, and you blink.

“For what?”

“For giving me this,” he starts, but before you can interject and point out that you didn’t give him this, he made it, he continues: “For giving me… freedom. To do this. And make this. And learn this.”

The smile that spreads across your face is warm hearth fire. “I didn’t give you freedom, V, you gave that to yourself, but I’m happy to help you any way I can. Now, would you like to keep painting, or would you prefer to help me make dinner?”

He chooses dinner, never leaving your side.

Sunday is nice. There's less messy limbed surprise than on Saturday, although you’re still off kilter when you wake up with your head in V’s lap again, but… it’s nice. 

You thought he’d spend the night painting, or drawing, or teaching himself something new using the free rein you’d given him with your computer and notebooks and stationery and art supplies—he doesn’t have to waste time with sleep, like you do—but he hadn’t. He’d climbed into your bed, settling against the pillows just like the night before, looking at you with his big, lovely eyes.

So here he is.

(And here you are.)

It’s cosy and comfortable, even if the feeling of warm skin under warm cotton against your cheek sets your heart to racing, V’s dark eyes even warmer when you roll over to look at his face.

“Morning,” he says.

“Morning,” you reply, and then you yawn, V’s lashes fluttering as he takes in the motion. “What time is it?”

Today’s rain is less of an endless downpour and more of an inconsistent drizzle, grey blanket slowly peeling away from the edges of the city, but it doesn’t matter, because you’re inside for most of the day, anyway. Saturday was hands-on, messy with acrylic and spilled coffee and laundry detergent (V really wants to learn everything), but Sunday is hands-off. You spend the day dredging the corners of your memory and scrolling through old, untouched files from your university years, so you can teach V the things he wants to know while relearning the things you’d forgotten yourself.

V’s little LED dances forever from blue into yellow, ocean waves lapping into sand, a shifting tide as he takes in your words. You’ve never had to teach someone before and you’re admittedly pretty terrible at it, but he never complains, the world’s most attentive and adorable student, sat on the floor with his legs crossed and his hair mussed and his eyes wide, drinking down everything you show him.

You only leave the apartment once. Lunch is delayed when you open your fridge and remember how bereft and sad it is inside, so you venture out into the rain to the nearby supermarket—V opts to stay indoors, LED flickering red at the idea of being caught, shying back.

You leave him looking lost and lonely before the door even finishes swinging shut behind you, long limbs looking even longer in your clothes, but somehow still so small.

“I won’t be long,” you promise.

When you get back, you return not only with bags of food but also clothes, V’s order from yesterday already shipped and delivered. He can finally replace your too-small clothing with things he’s chosen himself. It’s a fumble to get in the door, but the android is waiting for you, swinging it open and catching the bag you nearly drop in surprise.

“I have your clothes,” you announce. “I’ll put away the shopping while you try them on?”

You’re going to have to tattoo a reminder on your forehead about V’s relationship (or lack thereof) with clothes, because of course he takes this as an invitation to start stripping before you’ve even had a chance to take your shoes off. 

He does that thing where he grabs the back of his (your) shirt and pulls it over his head in one swift motion, curls of hair a cloud of smoke that settles around his face as the shirt is cast aside; you’re frozen in place as he reaches for the knot of his sweatpant’s drawstring, long fingers pulling it loose, but you let out a sharp meep just as his fingers hook into the waistband of them.

“PleasewaituntilI’mnotrightinfrontofyouthankyou,” you gasp all at once, words incoherent as they slide together, but V understands. He tilts his head at you inquisitively although he (thankfully) stops.

“Don’t you want to see the clothes?”

“I do, but, uh, for humans it’s normally customary to only get entirely naked or change clothes when you’re alone.” Your heart is going to burst out of your chest with how fast it’s racing. Without the string to cinch the sweatpants tight they’re starting to fall a little, revealing the delicate lines of his hip bones, and coupled with the reappearance of V’s bare stomach, your brain is going into meltdown. “So just—just give me a sec to go to the kitchen, okay? You’re probably better off changing in the bedroom, anyway, so you can use the full length mirror to see how you look.”

“Okay,” he says, but then: “Do humans never undress around others unless they’re planning to have sex?”

Your mouth falls open before you pause, words halting on your lips as you try to think of the best way to phrase your answer. “Well, we do, it’s not just about sex, but it’s usually only if you’re really comfortable with the other person you’re with, and they’re comfortable with you.”

“I’m comfortable with you,” V states plainly, and your insides turn to jelly. “Are you not comfortable with me?”

Oh, hell. “I am, I am! I’m just, uh… I’ve not really had a lot of practice with nakedness around other people.” What a way to put that you’re a shy ass virgin when it comes to real life nudity and sex, huh. “So let’s just keep it to a minimum for now, okay? Please?”

The android’s LED flickers honey-sweet on his temple as he looks at you, before his hands fall away from the sweatpants. “Okay.”

(Thank God.)

You’re not sure what you’re expecting to see when V starts to present his small array of outfits to you, but—he looks effortlessly stylish in the oversized clothes he’s selected, a muted palette of brown and yellow and red and cream, a cup of hot chocolate on an autumn day. He might be new to all this but his eye for aesthetic is impeccable. You have no doubt that the more he learns, the better he’ll get, hop-skip-jumps ahead of you, even after years of art education.

He’s even bought pyjamas, dark tartan patterns masculine but also adorable; it’s an utter juxtaposition to the tighter, sensual clothing he’d been given at the Eden Club.

“You look really good,” you tell him. Your voice is only a little strained. He smiles.

The outfit V wears for the rest of the afternoon is perfect for a rainy day spent indoors, thick jumper and tawny trousers, a blend of sepia tones. He looks like if you made a hug into a person: all soft edges and cosy and wrapped up in warmth.

And V is warm. You’re not sure if it’s a lingering memory of his programming, a carry over from his start in life as a sexbot, but he likes to touch—nothing inappropriate or overbearing, but he’s not shy about stepping into your personal space, brushing the back of your hand with his fingers as he points at something on the screen, or pressing close to your side as you cook, or just one of the hundreds of other tiny touches that he’s littered across you throughout the day. It’s thoughtless on his part, LED not even flickering, but each time is just another reminder of his warmth, the blue blood pulsing under his skin, how alive he is.

(And the truth is that you enjoy those touches. You’re not used to them, but lord knows you’re touch starved, so as fleeting as they are, they’re nice.)

Even though you still leave plenty of space between the two of you when you lay to sleep, you swear you can feel the heat spilling off V, another warm body in the bed that’s so used to just one. Though he stays sitting up, he’s in his cute matching pyjamas, and it’s… it’s a lot. You’ve invited V into your home—and you don’t regret it—but after two days he’s already settled in in a way you never thought anyone else would, as entirely unconventional as the whole situation is. (You’re not sure how many people have sheltered a deviant android in their homes, though, so maybe this isn’t as unconventional as you think. Who knows? Not you.)

“I have to go to work tomorrow.”

V tilts his head down to look at you.

“You can get up to whatever you’d like,” you continue. You’re propped up on an elbow so it’s less intimate than if you’d been on your back and staring upwards like you were waiting for him to slide down next to you (that’s what it feels like, to you, anyway). “You know the password for my computer now, and you’re welcome to watch TV or play games or whatever, and you can use all my stuff in the studio. I mean, other than painting or drawing over stuff I’ve already finished, but you’re welcome to grab any paper or canvases if you want them. I think that’s everything? But please let me know if there’s more you want or need, okay?”

Blink, blink. His lashes are soft charcoal that frames the spilled ink of his gaze. In the dimmed light of your room V is unreadable, his LED a quiet blue glow on his temple, but he looks soft, and he looks safe, and he nods.

“Alright,” he says. A smile that flickers at the edge of his lips. “I will.”

(You wake up, quiet and slow, face pillowed against V’s thigh, still drifting in sleep. You make a small noise, eyes shut, wondering why there’s no blaring sound of your alarm, but then a large hand smooths over your hair and you instinctively relax under the soft touch.

“You have thirty three minutes until you’re due to wake up,” he murmurs. “You can go back to sleep.”

So you do.)

(When you wake up to the scream of your alarm thirty three minutes later, you don’t remember any of this. All you can think of is the dawn of another Monday, the slog of another working week, and you sigh. But—

“Morning.”

V’s eyes are dark meok ink, liquid earth that grounds you.

“Morning,” you say, smiling despite yourself, and then roll out of bed to get the whole day started.)

You’re used to spending a day surrounded by laughter and banter, wrapped up in the camaraderie of your co-workers and friends, only to return to a world of quiet solitude. You’re used to coming home to rooms that are untouched from the morning, holding onto the echo of your passing, still and waiting for your return, an apartment of motionless air.

But not today. There’s evidence of someone else here: the open door to your studio down the hall, the scattered books on the coffee table, the mess of cushions on the sofa, all small signs that someone has been moving and living in your absence. A still-life that’s shifted into a breathing trompe l’oeil, V’s presence bringing flatness into perspective, turning it into something real.

It’s… nice.

You flop onto the sofa and send one of those cushions overboard, tumbling to the ground. V appears in the doorway moments later, new apron already streaked with colour, copper green thumbprint on his face like he’d touched it in thought and not realised. A little streak of paint that draws the eye to his lovely chin.

“Welcome home!” His hair is blond today, a golden nimbus around his face, though his eyes are still dark. Light and shadow. His happiness is infectious and you smile helplessly back, glad for his excitement with painting—but it seems like he hasn’t finished. “I’m happy you’re home. I missed you.”

KO. Wipeout. Your heart turns to liquid in your chest, burnt sugar that dribbles hot and saccharine through your ribs. 

“I chose a name.” V continues, oblivious to how he’s turned your insides into syrup, and you abruptly sit up.

“Oh?” 

“Taehyung.” The way he says it, in his deep voice, those two syllables are endless—a single name, heavy with the weight of meaning behind it. A shedding of his old skin, one that was forced on him, leaving him pink-skinned and new and free.

“Taehyung,” you repeat, and his LED flickers at the sound falling off your lips. “Taehyung. It’s lovely.”

He’s smiling, that lovely toothy smile that you’ve already decided is your favourite out of any smile you’ve seen, his LED electric blue and swirling in delight. 

Day after day, you wake up to the sight of that LED glowing as Taehyung watches you lift up out of sleep. Night after night, you come home to his lovely, big grin, all large hands and soft hair—hair that he chooses to change colour when he pleases, a dizzying palette with every shade you can dream of. He’s bright and deep, playful and reflective, a dance of flirty Rococo to more solemn Baroque, every day another day where he learns and grows and adds another facet to the cut diamond of his personality. 

(It hasn’t been long but you’re starting to think you’d put the world in the palm of his hand, if you could.)

You never thought you’d live to see the day where someone as lovely as Taehyung would be glad to see you home, having missed you after being apart—but for all that he’s voraciously leaning into the arts, consuming everything from visual to literary to performance, he’s never happier than when you’re there too. He shows you his works, improvement obvious with every new piece, but his excitement grows tenfold when you start to paint alongside him; seeing him so joyful spurs you to pick your brushes up again, buoyed up with motivation in the face of his own. 

(Your studio is usually quiet, a little reflective maybe, the only sound the music you play over your speakers—but now more often than not you and Taehyung will talk, and laugh, and even if you’ve both ebbed into silence, it’s never heavy. It’s a held breath. The potential to speak any moment. The sensation of another person in the same space as you, an orbit, both existing in a shared moment, connected by gossamer threads that shimmer with sunlight.

Taehyung’s eyes are steady on his canvas as he works, but he glances at you through the curl of his lashes, smiling back at you. Always, always smiling, LED calm blue as the rest of his face shines golden, bright.)

(Maybe it’s selfish, but you think you could get used to this.)

taglist: @beyoncesdragon​

[lawngnomeofdoom]

Part Three: when I'm near you

Part One Part Two Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven

Summary: Connor struggles with his new feelings brought upon by Y/N and Hank delicately advises him on the situation.

Warnings: A smidge bit of smut toward the end ;)

A/N: Again I cannot thank people enough for reading and sharing this fic, I'm really glad you all seem to like it! I plan to continue this series for a while so I hope you're into that! Thanks again I hope you have a beautiful day!

The morning after you had investigated the senator’s home was a quiet one. You said hello to Connor when you came in just like you had been doing for the last week, on some days he had even been waiting for you with a cup of coffee and an eager smile. But that morning he avoided your eyes and did not even acknowledge your “hello”, instead his eyes stayed glued to his desk terminal. It hurt more than you would admit, flirting with Connor wasn’t something you took all that seriously, it was just fun to watch the cute little guy blush and get flustered. That was until last night when he whispered in your ear and stirred something inside you, something that excited and scared you, and by the lack of eye contact he gave, you suspected it scared him too. Hank observed you two with a scrutinizing eye, finally whistling to get Connor’s attention when you had left your desk to use the bathroom.

“Lieutenant?”

“What’s the deal? You’ve been following Y/N around all week like a lost puppy, something I’ll admit I’m not exactly crazy about but anyway, what’s with the cold shoulder?” Hank asked. Connor poked his tongue to the side of his cheek with a thoughtful expression across his face.

“I...I am simply focusing on my task at hand. I’ve no room for distractions.” He replied.

“Oh, is she distracting?” Hank probed on. Connor clenched his fist and sighed.

“Alarmingly, yes.” He admitted finally.

“I don’t know why it is that I feel this way, whatever “way” this is. I’ve only known Y/N for a short time but I feel…well that’s the trouble, I don’t know, I’ve got no instructions no programming for this sort of thing.” Connor finished sounding exhausted. Hank looked over his shoulder to ensure you hadn’t yet returned from the bathroom then leaned in to speak softly to Connor.

“Listen, if it makes you feel any better, us humans don’t get any instructions for all this emotional crap either, you just kinda gotta figure it out. I know that’s not easy because you can’t exactly go through puberty, can you? Never mind I don’t want to know. Point is, if I were you I’d go talk to that Markus guy, he seems like he might have some sage advice on something like this.” Hank suggested and Connor nodded thoughtfully.

“That sounds like a productive course of action.” He agreed.

“Oh and Connor, come here…” Hank said signaling him to come closer over their desks. As Connor did Hank roughly grabbed him by the collar and stared deep into his eyes.

“Y/N is like a daughter to me. You hurt her feelings this morning and I highly advise you to rectify that or else.” He ordered and released him. Connor nodded anxiously and straightened his now crooked tie.

“I will go get her a cup of coffee.” He said quickly.

“Yeah, you go do that,” Hank smirked. Connor rose from his desk and entered the break room; he diligently chose a mug with the least amount of stain and chips in it and prepared a cup of coffee just the way he had noticed you like it. Just as he was headed out the door Reed stopped him and pushed him back into the break room.

“Fetching Y/N a cup of coffee like a good little lap dog huh?” He spat. Connor tried to bypass the detective but found himself pushed back again, two other officers stood in the corner but didn’t react to the confrontation, after all, they never did.

“I don’t hold any animosity toward you detective, I simply wish to coexist with you as coworkers.” Connor said with a forced smile.

“Right. “Coworkers”. Bullshit. First, you walking tin cans take our jobs and now, you’re really after our women?”

“I don’t know what you’re implying detective.” Connor said narrowing his gaze.

“I’m sure you don’t. This is a friendly warning; you can’t steal Y/N.” He said standing now almost nose to nose with Connor.

“How could I steal her from you detective? You’ve never had her to begin with.” Connor replied flatly. Reed’s eyes glared in anger and he delivered a swift gut punch to him, Connor held his abdomen with a clenched fist. His mind had already worked out 15 different ways to take down Reed, but he steadied himself. Markus had made a lot of progress, but many would still see Connor’s self-defense as anything but, and he had no intention of undermining his friend’s hard work. He prepared himself as Reed drew his arm back again for another strike but watched with shock as he collapsed to the ground. You stood behind him, having just given him a swift kick to the back of his legs, and then delivered a few more kicks to his groin. He reeled on the ground, moaning in tremendous pain.

“He may not hit you back, but I do. Get off the floor detective they just cleaned that.” You say and step over Reed’s body to face Connor.

“Are you alright?” You ask with sympathetic eyes. Connor’s eyes darted between Reed and you for a moment before he found any words.

“I made you coffee.” He said and meekly held up the mug. You chuckle softly and take the mug from him.

“Thank you, Connor. Can we talk?” You ask and he nods. Connor holds out his hand and helps you step over Reed’s body again out into the hall. You walk to your desk together, Connor notices your reserved body language, the way you hold the mug with both hands, and point your feet away from him but he knows it's similar to how he treated you this morning. You lean against his desk, Hank isn’t at his which is a relief to you, it makes this conversation slightly less awkward.

“I just wanted to make sure we were okay? I just feel like I may have upset you in some way last night and that wasn’t my intention.” You say, unsure in your wording.

“No!” Connor almost yells and slightly startles you.

“Yeah, that’s convincing.” You reply sipping the coffee.

“No, I mean you haven’t upset me Y/N. I was dealing with internal issues. I was going to apologize for making you uncomfortable with what I said last night.”

“Oh. Don’t worry, it didn’t make me uncomfortable. It was just surprising is all. I didn’t realize you had that kind of thing in you.” You reply looking into his eyes, but you notice his LED flashing in your peripheral.

“I didn’t realize it either. But I’m glad to hear I haven’t made you too upset with me.”

“Well I wasn’t sure if I could forgive you for the silent treatment this morning but you’re lucky this coffee is good.” You reply with a light smile.

“So the situation is remedied?” He asked hopefully.

“Definitely. We’re friends Connor.” You reply with a grin.

“Friends.” Connor repeated happily. Of course, he thought, he had no need to see Markus to discuss these “feelings.” You were nothing more than good friends and Connor could accept that.

Or at least he thought he could.

“Oh is that a picture of Sumo?” You ask and stretch over Connor’s desk to grab the photo. Now with your back arched over his desk he can’t seem to stop himself from imagining his hands gripping your hips and holding you in place, pinning his body over yours and tangling his hand in your hair as he penetrates you, and the vibration of your moans against his skin. It became important to him at that moment to know what it would sound like for you to say his name with longing and pleasure and desire. It flooded all of his senses.

“Connor?”

“Hm? Oh yes, I like dogs.” Connor says quickly.

“Mmm me too.” You reply admiring the photo of Sumo.

“Okay, maybe I should go talk to Markus.” Connor thought.

[villainess-supremacy]

headcanons of the four lords celebrating pride for the first time with their s/o

notes: you told them that it's pride month and asked if they would like to celebrate with you. none of them have ever celebrated pride before. I made the lords and s/o queer because I can

type: sfw, gender and sexuality of the s/o are not specified

tw/cw: slight mention of alcohol, blood, lgbtphobes

requests: open

Alcina Dimitrescu

her daughters have mentioned pride month before, but she's not sure what it entails exactly

you gladly explain it to her in detail!

she loves the idea since she is fruity herself loves celebrating for such a wonderful reason

you being part of it makes it so much better

and a whole month?? she's in

she would love to go to pride events with you, but she's afraid other mortals will be scared of her due to her height so you decide to just have your own celebrations in the castle

you love watching movies together so you show her all of your favorite queer movies and shows

you bought a pride flag to hang up below the balcony in the entrance hall

she loves the smile on your face when you proudly look up at it

"maybe we should extend pride to be all year if it makes you this happy, my love."

she already regularly gives you presents, but during the entirety of pride month she additionally leaves little gifts for you in your shared bedroom, the kitchen and all of your favorite places in the castle

and that daily

if there is any queer owned shop you like she will literally buy their entire stock

if there are any charities you mention she will gladly donate in your name and give you the certificate as a surprise

she realizes that something about June just makes her want you even more in general, in the private chambers, whichever is up to you wink wink

as a surprise she decides to make a special wine without blood of course named after you and your sexuality/gender if you use labels, but in fancy Latin words

she loves to drink, but of course watches over you so you don't have too much

mortals don't process it as well as she does...

if you come across any lgbtphobes and are noticeably saddened she will be there to distract you right away

everyone who dares to make her love sad will feel her wrath! be ignored since they're not worth her time

but if she finds out that anyone in the village doesn't support you or anyone who is part of the lgbt community, they will be forced asked to vacate their home

she will pamper you and shower you with her love even more

you once jokingly say "be gay do crime and turn maidens into wine" and she makes it her new motto but she's serious about it

Donna Beneviento

she knows a couple things about pride since she reads a lot, but you're so excited to tell her about it she simply lets you talk

you'd love to go to pride events with her but she's too shy and tends to have anxiety attacks when around too many strangers so she sends Angie instead

afterwards she will gladly listen to both of you tell her all about it!

she has her own collection of books that have queer characters in them which she never told anyone about before you and will read all of them with you if you like

there will be regular dates picnics while Angie takes care of the house

she's a cottage core sapphic and pride month brings out that side of her more

she has made dolls for you before, but this time she makes one that looks just like you

it has a pride flag embroidered on the top above the heart

of course you love it!

you're so glad that she accepts every part of you

she will make one of herself with a similar outfit and a small pride flag as well so she can set them up in couple settings

ever since she found out about online shopping it has opened up a whole new world for her so she will definitely get both of you matching outfits or jewelry from an lgbt owned shop

you love doing arts and crafts together so you suggest making bracelets for each other, either color coded or with letters

Donna's house has a flagpole she hasn't used in decades, but for you she'd gladly call for maintenance if it turns out it's unusable after all these years to hang a pride flag

anything to make you happy!

if there are any lgbtphobes bothering you or your friends, she will be right there to comfort you and won't hesitate to send Angie and her other dolls she can control to deal with them

even if you tell her that it's fine and she should just ignore them she's great at distracting you so you wouldn't notice until it's done oops-

since she has no portable device that can access music streaming platforms, but knows the password to your phone she decides to steal it for a bit and makes you the softest playlist that you since then often play for comfort

Salvatore Moreau

he has spent decades almost completely separated from humans so he has no idea what pride month means, but instantly agrees to it because he loves you so much

he will agree to anything that makes you happy

you both sit down and he looks at you with puppy eyes while you tell him all about pride

he loves the idea of celebrating a group of people you both are a part of

he thinks you deserve your own month to be cherished and celebrated!

he may be a little awkward with expressing his feelings, but he sure knows how to prepare a romantic dinner

with mother miranda needing all of the lords a lot to assist her, he usually barely has time to prep food, but for pride month he does his best to cook for you every single day

part of his usual outfit is a cape to cover his back and a type of crown made out of bones and rope

he's not the best with his hands, but he makes a crown for you that resembles his anyway because you're his queen/king/majesty

you love it so much!

you want to give him something in return so you go to the village and visit the shop you know is lgbt owned and get him a custom necklace with a fish pendant that has your initials engraved

he literally bursts out in tears because he is so touched :c

when you started dating he initially was scared of what you would think about his giant fish form, but you turned out to be really impressed and love it and since you'd be tiny compared to him he suggests taking you on an adventure of sorts

meaning you sit on his back while he swims around the lake which is like a roller coaster ride but more wet

he leads you to a hut you never visited before and he shows you treasures he has collected when he was still mortal

he starts making a list of things you could do and stays up all night to complete it but ends up with so many activities and ideas to celebrate pride you'll have to extend pride month... by possibly years....

if he hears about anyone being mean to you he'll just encase them into the blobs of gooey mass he can make but you don't need to know about that, pride month or not

he has always wanted to propose to you so he might be able to work up the courage to hint at it by the end of June

Karl Heisenberg

of course he knows about pride month!

he knows more than you might think

he isn't considered the rebel child for no reason

in the past he has done some celebration for himself, but it was never anything too special

he thinks it's no fun alone and his experiments servants aren't much fun

sure he could program them, but unless it's to attack something they're not really... party animals

since he has you now he'll gladly give it another go!

he'd love to go to pride events with you, especially if you go to drag shows

he didn't know about them before you made him go to one

something about them fascinates him so much, he's more excited than you

he's not really into cooking, but nothing will stop him from making you a nice breakfast in bed

you always love watching him work on his machines because he likes to take off his shirt when he's hot seeing him do what he loves makes you happy

so he decides to gift you some robots to assist you with your everyday endeavors

it's not really necessary but of course you appreciate the gesture

it means more time to spend with him after all

he once sees you with a keychain that has a pride flag on it so he paints it on one of his machines that he uses more often

mostly he will end the day by having a drink and dancing with you

it's a celebration, so celebrate he will

if you're more in the mood for chilling on the couch he won't say no to watching some queer shows or movies

after working on his machines he has a way of just melting into your arms

if he sees you smile at certain scenes in movies he might attempt to do the same with you

of course you notice, but you definitely can't complain especially if you smile on purpose at the spicier scenes

anyone who will come between you and happily celebrating pride will be visited by Sturm banned from his factory and getting anywhere near you

he likes to name his subjects so he will start naming them after all of your favorite queer historical figures, activists and famous people in general

any smile he can get out of you is a win

a win for the gays you might say

when he was younger he may have had a phase of spraying graffiti around the village so you're not surprised when he goes around his factory and writes "be gay do crime" on several of his machines and doors

[solomonish]

You Burned So Brightly (Simeon x Reader)

Simeon has fallen, and he left his memories in the Realm that cast him down. They sent him straight back to you, but nothing is ever that easy.

ao3 link: here!

With a single, brilliant streak of light across the Devildom sky, the battles that were on the brink of becoming a second war came to a halt. Smoke curled up in the distance, light and airy like nothing you've ever seen before. The demons near the impact seemed to itch, the holy energy burning off into the air burning their skin. In the middle of a small crater, barely bigger in diameter than the fallen angel was in height, Simeon struggled to bring himself to his knees. As you stood before the impact site, Diavolo, Barbatos, Solomon and Lucifer near your side, you did your best to avoid cringing at Simeon's groans of pain.

Diavolo called for his attention, his authoritative voice only engaged for the sake of the surrounding, curious citizens. After a moment, Simeon forced his head up, clear blue eyes scanning the crowd. His eyes fell to you last, and though he held his gaze for a long time, recognition never flashed within him.

Simeon had fallen, and he left his memories in the Celestial Realm.

---

Barbatos led you to the room where Simeon was staying, informing you of any progress he and Diavolo had made and updating you on their search for a suitable place for him to live. Vaguely, you heard Barbatos ask if you agreed that a nice, cozy area on the outskirts of town would be nice, preferably something with enough yard space for a small garden. You hummed in agreement, and even though the both of you knew you had no say in the matter, Barbatos still gave you a displeased glance. He knew you weren't listening.

He stopped outside the door, hand faltering before the doorknob when you called out to him. Green eyes as impassive as always, he turned towards you fully and let his hand fall to his side. Before speaking, you glanced at his eyebrows and nearly sighed in relief to see his eyebrows weren't furrowed in the slightest. Despite the side-eyes and rather tense atmosphere, he wasn't truly mad at you.

Keeping your voice low, you asked, "Does he remember any of the exchange program?"

Barbatis kept his expression flat, but he did jut his chin just a hint, the closest thing you would get to a frown. "Bits and pieces. Nothing new."

"Why does he still only remember things in fragments?"

There was a pause. This was information you were permitted to know; but just because Barbatos was allowed to tell you did not mean he should. Still, you were notorious for snooping around and getting what you wanted anyway. "We believe he had too much sensitive information about the Celestial Realm, but the job was done in haste to bring the battles to a close."

"Oh." You didn't have any expectations set for his response, but you still felt a heavy stone, similar to disappointment, settle in your stomach. Perhaps dread was more appropriate - though anymore, your gut was always tied in knots and your emotions were just as jumbled. "Does it hurt him?"

"Physically? No," Barbatos answered, reaching for the doorknob again. You opened your mouth to ask for more details, but Barbatos gave you a look that said, clearly, you'll see. Shutting your mouth, you squared your shoulders and allowed him to open the door.

The room, grand yet somehow seeming plain for a palace's guest room, looked the same as it had all the times before. None of the chairs moved from their expertly-placed positions in the room, having been unoccupied for the entirety of Simeon's stay. Each book was nestled into its place in its case, and not a single gap ruined the uniform, brick-like image of the surrounding bookshelves. Even the bedsheets, still perfectly tucked beneath the mattress, looked unused, the only crinkles in the sheets coming from directly beneath the occupant.

Simeon sat in the middle of the bed, knees drawn to his chest and arms resting atop them. You could see his blue eyes surveying the room, a change from the past days but not exactly an improvement. The aura surrounding him was menacing, and if you strained your ears you could almost hear a low growl. Despite sitting in one spot for days like a scared animal, Simeon never felt more like a predator.

"Hello, Simeon," You said. You moved to sit on the edge of the bed, but Barbatos' hand on your shoulder stopped you. When you turned to look at him, he was already shaking his head. This was as close to Simeon as you would be allowed to get.

"You're back," Simeon noted, his voice devoid of any fondness. It was still the same pitch as before, but it no longer sounded like a delicate tune carried on the warm summer breeze. Instead, it felt more like a warning shot, sharp and threatening yet drawing no blood. He sounded dangerous.

"I am. I was hoping you might remember something new, but...it seems that's not the case."

Simeon looked you up and down before scoffing. "What makes you think you're so memorable?"

Not wanting to anger him, you chuckled in response, hoping it didn't sound as awkward as it felt. Simeon's eyes never left your form, and you missed the way his pupils widened, almost like a cat's.

You could hear him murmur under his breath, "Perhaps I could recognize you by the way you taste…" It was a poor attempt at intimidation, but it was intimidation nonetheless. When you looked up at Simeon, his pupils were blown wide, making his eyes almost entirely black. Instinctively you stepped back, watching as Simeon unfolded himself for the first time in days.

Barbatos' grip on your shoulder tightened right as Simeon pounced, pushing you behind him as he chanted some spell you'd never heard before. Though the attack seemed to move in slow motion, he ushered you out all too quickly, slamming the door shut and locking it physically before casting another spell. Right as he finished speaking, something solid slammed against the door, and you could hear Simeon snarling on the other side.

"He's reconciling," Barbatos explained vaguely. "He's not used to craving human souls, or to the shifting energies inside him. Are you okay?"

"Yes."

"Good. Come with me. We'll have to report what happened."

Though you didn't want to, you followed Barbatos again down the hall, this time taking care to trail a bit behind in your own petty act of defiance.

You knew, at least for a while, that you would not be seeing Simeon again.

---

When you were permitted to visit him again, you were relieved. Whatever rehabilitation efforts Diavolo and Barbatos were working on took longer than you thought, and days stretched into weeks until you were wondering if they were losing hope in his recovery as you were. Of course, the pair had more information than you did, but in a situation that seemed as dire as this, your worry was warranted.

The hallway you walked countless times before was the same as always, yet you found yourself surveying the walls. Barbatos was not relaying any information to you this time, which was strange; clearly, if you were allowed to see Simeon again, progress had been made and there was information to give. But you were eager to get in the room, so you didn’t waste time with questions that would be answered firsthand and allowed Barbatos to open the door for you anyway.

Stepping into the guest room, it finally looked more lived in than the last time. The desk on the opposite wall, surrounded by bookcases, had a few papers and pens scattered around it, something like an outline lying face-up in the middle. A few books had been removed from the shelves, their neighbors slumping over in the void they left. Simeon was in one of the plush armchairs in the room, a book in his hands with his eyebrows furrowed. His posture was slumped, nothing like the practiced perfection he had as an angel.

You took a few steps into the room, noticing how Simeon stiffened yet did not take his eyes away from the book in his hands. Barbatos stepped into the room, the door shutting with a click. He made no effort to be within arm’s reach of you, but you could still feel his protective presence over your shoulder.

Barbatos cleared his throat, and Simeon begrudgingly put his book down, eyes falling immediately to you. “Simeon, as I’m sure you can see, MC has arrived to see you again.”

Simeon looked blatantly unamused. “So you have,” He murmured, pushing on the arms of the chair to straighten his posture. You sat tentatively on the edge of the bed, eyeing the space between the two of you.

You could feel the lapse in his memories as if it was a palpable tension in the air. The way Simeon held you in his gaze, distrusting, wondering why a human was so interested in him and why you were not a welcome meal was enough to send shivers down your spine. Fighting the urge, you turned to take in the room, hoping for something interesting to comment on. “I see you’re outlining something. Could you have remembered something for the next installment of TSL?”

“Those books…” Simeon was eyeing the outline on the desk, but he trailed off and darted his eyes back to you distrustfully before he could continue. You felt something left unsaid, but had no idea what it could be.

“We’ve tried using them to jog his memory,” Barbatos explained. “It didn’t work.”

Though Simeon masterfully used clear inspirations from real life, such caricatures of the brothers and their lives must have been a difficult idea to unlearn. Briefly, you wondered if you had been made into a character in the series yet. Part of you hoped you weren’t. It would probably be better if you built your relationship with him from the ground up - no matter how long it may take or how painful it may be.

For once, Simeon appeared bashful, averting his gaze again. “I do remember some of the plot points, though,” he murmured. “I just don’t know what they mean.”

Before anybody could stop you, you reached out and placed a hand on Simeon’s knee. His body was cold like the brothers’, enough to seep through his clothes and draw your attention. You missed the comforting warmth he used to carry. You missed when he would look at you and you didn’t feel like he hated you, too.

“Maybe they don’t mean anything anymore,” You offered, ignoring Barbatos’ piercing stare. Whether he was warning you to keep your hand away or keep your thoughts to yourself, you didn’t know, but you didn’t pay attention to either warning. “Maybe now they’re just stories, and life gets to be something else.”

When you contacted Diavolo about seeing Simeon again, he warned you the meeting would not be long. Still, the way Barbatos ushered you out felt as though he were cutting your time short as punishment for potentially risking their endeavors to restore Simeon’s memories. Before he shut the door on you, you looked back to see Simeon staring at his knee, thinking over what you said. No lecture came from Baratos, but if it had, it wouldn’t have mattered.

From that day on, Simeon started venturing out of his room.

You heard from Lucifer one night, having pestered him after another night of returning home late from the castle, that Simeon had taken to wandering the halls by himself. He never took anything, never seemed to intend to cause problems, and instead took his time taking in every painting. Every time one of the staff members went to check on him and found his room empty, the entire castle went on lockdown, yet when Simeon was made aware of this he merely seemed amused. You asked why nobody was locking the door, and Lucifer gave you an exasperated expression. Like a pet rat, Simeon kept finding ways to unlock the door so he could roam. Perhaps that was why Barbatos seemed to be having such a hard time recently.

With his newfound desire to adapt - and the trust that, in the backwards fashion you came to expect from the Devildom, came from him being alone in the castle without ruining something, even if his escape was counterintuitive to building trust in him - Little Ds were used to tend to him when higher-ranking demons were busy. The only time somebody checked in on him was to evaluate his mental state and to safeguard your visits. Those, too, were slowly becoming less formal, and soon you were going to the castle and simply being pointed in the direction to his room, rather than being led.

You knocked on his door, unsurprised to hear silence on the other end. However, this was the first time it happened and you were alone. Though you were trusted and respected (among the nobility, anyway) in the Devildom, wandering aimlessly around the castle didn’t seem like the smartest idea. A small pattering of footsteps behind you caught your attention, and you turned to see a Little D standing behind you. His horns were curled like Satan’s, his eyes burning green as if a fire was lit behind them. You smiled at him, and he only tilted his head - as much as he could, anyway.

“Have you seen Simeon?” You asked him, hoping he’d be one of the easy-going ones. After studying you for a moment, the Little D only nodded. Talkative, no, but you were right on him being relaxed. Following his lead, you soon found yourself in one of the smaller sections of the castle garden. The Little D floated over the twisting roots and vines underfoot, sparing you no time to step over and around the obstacles. By the time you found him again, he was waiting impatiently at an opening between a line of small trees, leading to a courtyard with an overgrown fountain in the middle. He left in the middle of your breathless thanks, which you finished in a sigh.

Simeon heard and turned towards you, his attention pulled from one of the broken busts on a pedestal. “Hello. If I had known I’d have a visitor today, I would have waited for you.”

His greetings were slowly becoming more friendly, you noticed. Smiling at him, you made your way over to him, thankful for the worn stone beneath your feet instead of the purposeful overgrowth behind you. “What are you doing out here?”

Simeon shrugged. “I’ve grown tired of the same hallways and that room.”

“Not willing to explore different hallways? I hear they get pretty exciting in the east wing.”

He smirked at that. “Even I know not to venture there. I have no interest in pushing my luck.”

Turning back to the bust, you watched him grip his chin thoughtfully. You wondered if that was a trait of all wrath demons, considering their lord, or if it was merely an impulse based on him being well-read. In this moment, he looked startlingly like Satan, a fact that both calmed you and worried you. Satan was a good influence for him, sure - but the more he influenced Simeon, the less like himself Simeon would turn out to be.

“You’re thinking pretty loudly over there,” Simeon said, and for a moment, you thought you heard that gentleness that you were used to. “Would you like to share your thoughts?”

“I was just thinking about how Satan has been helping your transition,” You answered in an obvious half-truth. “Has he lent you any good books?”

“All of his recommendations seemed a bit on the nose for my situation,” Simeon answered bluntly. You laughed, short and unexpected. He smiled. “But I do appreciate the help.”

“Do you need the books in the same way he does?” You asked. Simeon stiffened slightly, the only indication that he was uncomfortable. But, for you, he didn’t deny you an answer.

“I don’t remember much about who I was before. I know how angels were supposed to be, but none of it feels like me. The only thing that feels like me is this wrath, but even then, it isn’t as strong as his, I’m sure.”

You had nothing to say to that, instead turning to examine the bust. The features were worn down, much like the rest of the details. Instead, it was a vague person-shape, the head misshapen from what used to be the hair and arms missing since the beginning. Beside, Simeon murmured under his breath, “Even though I’m reconstructing where he was constructing, I can’t help but feel we might end up more similar than either of us expect.”

Simmering just beneath his words, you thought you could hear just a tinge of...something. Regret? Sorrow? Whatever it was, you couldn’t help but wonder if he was falling into the same line of thinking you often found Satan grappling with, wondering if a personality crafted as a wall was hardly a personality at all. You would assure Simeon as often as you assured Satan if he needed it, but you also knew that this was different. Simeon had you around before he decided who to become, and you knew the person he used to be. If it was what he wanted, you could - you would - help him down a similar path.

But you knew better than to say so. Instead, you stared at the faceless bust before you and gave him the space to figure it out for himself.

---

The memories taken from Simeon were officially gone, Diavolo and Barbatos decided, at least gone enough that they could not reach them without risking Simeon’s wellbeing. Though there was now an extra layer of animosity between them, they still considered him a friend (if not a former one) and had no desire to hurt him. Besides, the battles were over. There was no need to send a message of power via an ex-angel the Celestial Realm no longer cared about. With no need to keep him close in the castle, and a hesitant trust in his adjustment to the Devildom, Diavolo offered him a modest home on the outskirts with a small yard, just like he was considering before. It was close to the castle, though not close enough that the wealthier inhabitants would cause a fuss about favoritism. Even though the exterior was dark, you were pleased to see it resembled a cottage more than its neighbors. Beside you, Satan commented about how charming and quaint it was - you agreed without really hearing him.

As Satan knocked on the door, you drummed your fingers nervously on the vase in your hands. Barbatos mentioned something about Simeon liking to garden, but did he even remember? You knew he wouldn’t remember the time he first encountered the plant in your hands. It was a type of Tiny Venus Flytrap, one that needed to feed constantly on a microorganism in the air. It was constantly opening and closing its leaves, and Simeon spent at least half an hour cooing over one when he first saw it. You remembered the melodious chuckle that kept ringing through the greenhouse, and a sudden twinge of pain struck through you when you realized he wouldn’t.

As if on cue, Simeon opened the door, looking perturbed at the interruption but softening when he saw you and Satan in the doorway. “Oh, I forgot you were coming over today,” He said, stepping aside to let the two of you in. Though you didn’t think Simeon would lie about such a thing, the cleanliness of the house and the tea brewing in the kitchen planted a small seed of doubt in your mind.

“We thought we’d offer you a few housewarming gifts,” Satan responded. The smile he gave was easy, expertly hiding how just minutes before he had nearly knocked down a wall in the House of Lamentation and was more than willing to use the trip as an excuse to escape his brothers. Simeon chuckled, no doubt catching a hint of the hidden meanings behind his words. At least his perceptiveness wasn’t affected by his fall.

“Oh? Gifts?”

“Yeah. Your bookshelves look bare, so I thought you’d like a headstart on your collection.”

“Thank you,” Simeon answered, reaching for the box in Satan’s hands. You watched his entire body crumple for a moment, unsuspecting of the weight in his hands. He recovered quickly, but not before huffing out, “Oh, there’s quite a lot in here, huh?”

Satan didn’t seem bothered by his breathlessness - if anything, he looked amused. You almost reached out to help, but remembered your own human strength wouldn’t do much. Plus, you still had a fragile vase in your hands. Simeon placed the box on the ground, opening the flaps and peering inside. He wasn’t able to hide the beginning of a frown when he saw copies of his own books on top, and quickly moved those out of the way. He seemed much more pleased with the other options.

“Thank you. I suppose I won’t have to spend a long time finding my own additions to these shelves,” Adding a good-natured chuckle to the end of his sentence, Simeon turned towards you. “What do you have there?”

“Oh! It’s a Tiny Venus Flytrap. You-” Stopping short, you glanced at the copies of TSL on the floor and cleared your throat. “You don’t have to feed it much. Just put it in a window that gets a lot of moonlight and water once during each waxing gibbous.”

Curiously, Simeon reached for the plant and cradled it in his hands. He brushed his thumbs over the glazed vase, the blue so dark it nearly looked like black ink. Tentatively, he put his finger on one of the leaves and let out a boyish giggle as it closed around him. You laughed too, pleased to see history repeating itself.

“This is absolutely darling, MC. Thank you,” He didn’t meet your eyes, still entranced by the movement of the leaves. When you looked at Satan, he was giving you a mischievous look. On the way to the house, you told him about your plan to try and jog Simeon’s memories, and he had been hesitant to say that your plan would work. If it didn’t, you certainly succeeded in testing to see if part of the old Simeon was still around.

The tea kettle whistled in the kitchen, and Simeon finally snapped his head up from his new pet plant. “I’ll put this little guy in the kitchen window, seeing as it gets the most moonlight,” He explained, scurrying over with the same dainty walk he had before. You watched him carefully as he adjusted his plant, giving it an affectionate pat before tending to the tea. As he pulled out a budget tea set you’ve definitely seen in the bargain shop before, you tried to hide the guilt on your face. Back at the House of Lamentation, in a box beneath your bed, was Simeon’s old set, still in pristine condition in its white and gold glory. You were glad you decided against bringing that as a gift - looking around at your dark surroundings, it didn’t seem like it would fit in.

You could hold on to your little memories for a while longer, you thought. Simeon didn’t seem to be making use of anything regarding his past anyway.

---

When Simeon opened the door after summoning you to his house, you weren’t expecting his new outfit.

Diavolo had him fitted in some black, plain clothes - something to cover him without drawing too much attention to him. However, now that he had enough time to get used to his surroundings and accept his new life as a demon, he also had enough time to craft a new look for himself.

You weren’t expecting that to include a dark, cool-colored, patterned button down, tucked into black pants with most of the buttons undone.

Nearly choking on your own spit the moment he opened the door, you allowed him to usher you in and rub your back hesitantly. After he thought you had collected yourself - and yes, at that point you stopped choking, but you were still reeling at the image of his chest (did some part of him really need to be exposed at all times?) - he asked, “Do you not like my clothes?”

His voice sounded just as devastatingly sad as a demon. “N-no, they’re fine! I just…” You began gesturing towards his exposed chest and even his midriff before getting embarrassed and dropping your hand. “I wasn’t expecting all that.”

“Oh, here,” Simeone buttoned up three buttons, which did absolutely nothing, and opened the back door to his small yard. “Thanks for agreeing to help me.”

You swallowed thickly and nodded, eyes still on his chest as you walked outside.

The Devildom was known for its warm temperatures, and as you helped him prepare the dirt you quickly found your school shirt uncomfortable as it stuck to your skin. Before long, you slipped it off, thankful for the tank top you decided to wear beneath it, and got back to work. The two of you engaged in an easy conversation, but every so often you’d realize Simeon’s eyes stayed on you for a moment too long. Normally, you wouldn’t consider yourself some irresistible temptation, but he was new to being a demon. Any time he’d reach towards you to help you or borrow a tool, you had to fight the urge to flinch. By the time he offered you a break, you had nearly jumped out of your skin too many times to count.

Spent from the labor, you stayed on the grass while he went to get a drink, coming back with a large glass of water that you graciously accepted. As you drank, he watched you intently - or, more specifically, he watched your left shoulder.

“Uh, are you okay?” You asked cautiously. “You’ve been staring a lot.”

He looked genuinely surprised to have been caught. “Have I? I apologize.” His eyes ran over your pact marks where they peeked out from beneath your shirt before falling on your shoulder again. “What’s that scar?”

“Hm?” Glancing down at your shoulder, you could barely make out the shape of an eye scarred on your skin. Honestly, you hadn’t even noticed it before he brought it up. After all, the mark that had been there was purposely difficult to see when he made the vow of protection, so you hadn’t even noticed when it turned to scar tissue. Still, the thought saddened you, and you reach to cover it with your opposite hand. “Oh, that. You gave it to me.”

“I did?” His eyes widened, and he started to toy with one of the buttons attached to his shirt. “I’m- I’m so sorry, MC, I don’t remember-”

“No no no, it’s not like that. I didn’t mean-” He stood up abruptly, not allowing you to finish. His expression was dark, a cross between furious and devastated, and he turned to head back inside. You could imagine his footsteps searing the dry Devildom grass as he stalked away.

“Feel free to let yourself out. Thank you for your help.” He left you sitting in his yard, and you rubbed your scar aimlessly. Though it was just a phantom feeling, it seemed to throb in pain just from his reaction.

---

Simeon offered to walk you home after an RAD party after Diavolo asked all the brothers to stay back for student council business. After months of slowly building your relationship back up again, he was finally comfortable being around you, confident in his ability to reign in his wrath (or at least his speed so he could run far from you if he needed to.) He purposely shortened his strides, the walk taking a much longer time than it normally did. In his company, though, with his easy laughter and your banter, you didn’t mind one bit.

It wasn’t until you finally reached the gates to the house that he let his expression somber. “Hey, MC?” He asked tentatively, as if worried he was intruding. “I know you aren’t supposed to tell me much about my old life, but…” His eyes fell to your scar, which your outfit did nothing to hide.

“Simeon, it’s not like that. You didn’t carve it into me, or anything.”

“Then how did I scar you?”

You sighed. “It used to be an angelic pact. You would-” Did he know about his prophetic abilities as an angel? After clicking your tongue in thought, you corrected yourself. “You were just trying to protect me. We didn’t know this would happen.”

If Simeon cared about your hesitation and how obviously you were hiding information, he didn’t show it. Instead, he asked, “Did it hurt, then? When it turned from a promise into a wound?”

Yes, you wanted to say. Just minutes before you heard that he fell, you felt the pain in your shoulder, but you were too busy tending the wounds of others to really pay attention to the pain. You had forgotten about it until Simeon noticed the scar all that time ago, and ever since you had convinced yourself that it throbbed, wanting to turn back into the vow it could never be.

Instead, you smiled at him. “No. I forgot about it until you said something, remember?”

But your smile was too thin, and it betrayed you.

---

You were not supposed to be doing this. However, you had turned your phone off, so the brothers couldn’t talk you out of something so stupid.

You and Simeon hunkered down in the Botanical Gardens long after close, figuring it was a random enough spot that nobody would find you for a while. Hunkered between your favorite type of flytraps, you let Simeon ask you the questions he’s been dying to find answers for since he fell. Each question you answered, telling him about the exchange program and his roommates and all of the memories you held in your heart, safekeeping for the day you could give them back to him.

After all, the way Luke’s face crumpled when he realized that Simeon truly didn’t remember him was something you wanted to avoid seeing again altogether.

There were parts you didn’t know the details of, bits of information that made Simeon’s expression darken, but he urged you to continue, desperate to learn about the voids inside of him he could never figure out how to fill. It wasn’t until you could hear people outside, too close to finding you for you to escape, that you stopped, and even by then your throat was dry and sore.

Before you left to give yourselves up, Simeon reached out and grabbed your hand. There was a serious look in his eyes, and you gulped. “Make a pact with me.”

“What?” You asked. “Simeon, you’re still-”

“I know. But we’re starting to cause trouble, and-” He looked to your arm, where one of the brothers’ marks slipped out from beneath your t-shirt sleeve. “I don’t want them to use their pacts over me. And I trust that you won’t use me just because I haven’t made a true pact before.”

Well, that last part was a given. Maybe it was the sound of Mammon’s voice getting closer, or maybe it was the intensity of his gaze - either way, you fell to your knees so you could be level with him again and nodded. There was an uncomfortable warmth on your shoulder, something that started off soothing but became too hot and prickled at your skin. Before you could look at the mark, Simeon reached for your face and pulled you in, kissing you with a heat he never had during the program and before his fall. Mammon and Leviathan chose this moment to burst in, their shouts falling at the image before them.

Leviathan was the first to speak, grumbling about gross normies in a tone that was clearly giving way to his sin. Mammon came to his senses a few moments later, yelling at Simeon about keeping his hands off. He reached for your arm, pulling you away roughly before shouting directly in your ear, “Hey! What’s the deal with this?”

He was pointing at your exposed left shoulder, where, over the scar, a dark pact mark sat. You were slightly unsettled at how foreboding it looked when you knew it was a twisted distortion of some angelic imagery, but one look at Simeon’s please cheshire grin eased your worries.

---

“So, about those battles…” Simeon trailed off. You were at his house, reading some books in his collection but really just using the trip as an excuse to lay with your head in Simeon’s lap. In one hand, he held a copy of his books, trying to regain some of his memories through their words again. The other was carding through your hair, distracting you from your own book - something random you had plucked off the shelves, eager to get to your spot on the couch.

“You know I’m not supposed to tell you anything about that.”

“You weren’t supposed to tell me a lot of things, and yet…” He flicked your left shoulder. You sighed, resting your open book on your chest.

“What do you want to know?” He opened his mouth, but you interrupted him before he could get anything out. “Be specific. I can’t give you the full history of everything. I don’t even know if I know the full history of everything.”

Simeon smiled, tapping his fingers on you mindlessly. “Can you tell me about the battle I fell from?” He noticed how your smile faltered, and when you looked away, he reached to guide your eyes back to his. “Is something wrong?”

You unfurled his fingers and pressed his palm to your cheek, nuzzling into it. “It was over me.”

“Oh.” His voice got significantly smaller, and he asked, “What did you do…?”

“I wasn’t just me!” Playfully, you swatted at his arm, half hoping to dispel the awkwardness hovering in the air. Settling down, you clarified, “It was more...what we did.”

Simeon filled in some of the gaps himself. “I was in love with you.”

“I know, right? You have no taste.” He flicked your nose this time, and you stuck your tongue out at him. “Wait, was?!”

“Stay on topic, little lamb,” He urged gently. When you looked up at him, silently indicating for him to continue his questions, he asked, “So, what, did I lose? Was I condemned for fighting against the Celestial Realm?” That would be a noble fall, he decided. He could make peace with that.

But your face fell again, and your voice got serious. “Simeon...you were fighting against me. You were fighting for the Celestial Realm.”

“What?” Truly aghast, he placed his hand on your cheek again, applying no force but keeping your gaze on his as if you’d stop talking if you looked away. “Why?”

Part of you didn’t know, and that part would never know. Not if Simeon really never regained his memories, anyway. Dejectedly, you shrugged and answered, “I don’t know for sure. But I think you were trying to fight for the fate of my soul. You thought you were fighting for me.”

“How can you know?” You hated the way his voice shook, but didn’t draw any attention to it. “How can you know what I was thinking when I don’t even know?”

“Because I trust you, Simeon. I trusted you then and I trust you now.”

He nodded, but you could tell by the look on his face that he wasn’t entirely convinced. Perhaps Diavolo and Baratos were on to something when they warned you not to indulge his questions. His hand went back to slowly messing with your hair, but there was a reluctance to it that told he was only trying to ease your own worries. You could guess what he was thinking - you were probably thinking the same thing, torn apart by a relationship that only seemed to exist to defy every rule that ever existed.

Wherever you went and whatever you did, if he was to follow you and love you, it felt like you would never know peace.

But if you already fought each other, fought for each other, what else was there that you couldn’t handle?

[queenshelby]

DRAMA TEACHER – PART ONE

Featuring: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Smut, Divorce, Broken Relationship, Mention of Abuse

Words: 3,567

***New to Dublin***

It has been several weeks since you moved from the UK to Dublin to start a new life with your son Lucas who recently turned 16.

You left an abusive relationship and finally filed for divorce. Nonetheless, Lucas blamed you for everything even for the fact that his father wasn’t allowed to see him until the court orders have been finalised due to his addictions and history of violence.

Lucas hated the fact that he was now attending a new school and, just after two days, he was getting himself into trouble for smoking weed on school premises.

Despite this, you enjoyed your new job as a drama teacher and had recently suggested to the director of the school that it would be fantastic for the children who enrolled into your extra curriculum arts program to participate in an actual play in front of their families and the teachers of the school.

‘What do you think about it Adam?’ you asked. Adam was the school principal and your friend since high school. He always had a crush on you, but never admitted it. It wasn’t until recently that he finally asked you for a date, an offer which you declined since you were working with him on a daily basis.

‘Sure, if you think the students are willing and able to put in this kind of effort, why not?’ Adam said, allowing you to take charge of the extra curriculum drama activities as you see fit. He was just glad to have you on board after the last drama and literature teacher employed by the school was a disaster.

‘I have about six students in two of my classes who seem to be very talented and I think it would be beneficial for them to build up the confidence they need if they want to pursue a career in acting’ you explained before giving Adam the names of the six students.

‘Perhaps you can suggest it to their parents?’ you then went on to say and Adam agreed.

Three weeks later, you got notice from Adam advising you that five out of the six students wish to participate in the program but, in order to be signed off by the board, you would need to find five more students and a volunteer parent to assist you with any work that is to be conducted outside school premises due to regulations imposed by the board.

‘You’ve got anyone in mind?’ you asked.

‘Actually, one of the parents has offered and I think he would be a good fit as he is a well-known actor and has had several stage performances himself’ Adam explained.

‘I assume you are talking about Hendrix and Charlie’s dad?’ you asked, remembering having met him a few times already at pick up on Wednesdays and every second Friday.

‘Yes, Cillian Murphy’ Adam said before continuing on ‘Cillian mentioned that he’s got no engagements for the next three months, so I suggest you talk to him’ Adam suggested.

‘Alright. So, do you know each other since you are on first name basis?’ you asked surprised.

‘Yes, for a matter of fact, I do. His brother is married to my sister. We occasionally have a few drinks. He is easy going. You will get along just fine’ Adam said.

‘Alright, I will talk to him then. Thanks Adam’ you said before quickly leaving Adam’s office.

Adam had recently made yet another attempt to ask for a date which you pushed back on, which meant that you tried to engage in as little small talk as possible.

***Interested in Someone Else***

The following Wednesday, when Cillian picked up his boys from school, you approached him. You felt somewhat uncomfortable about it, knowing that he was probably overqualified for this task. But, he had offered and there was no one else who you thought could do a better job with the students than someone like him, someone with experience.

‘Uhm, Mr Murphy, do you have a minute?’ you asked as he was trying to get his sons to pack up their bags while they were too busy fighting with each other once again. They both were very creative, but also very messy and constantly argued.

‘Oh no…what did they do?’ he chuckled as he pulled Hendrix’s bag apart looking for the rest of the mandarin peel which Charlie had stuffed in there just seconds ago to get under Hendrix’s skin.

‘Jesus Hendrix’ he huffed as he found three empty chocolate wrappers instead and put them into the bin.

‘Sorry Miss L/N, you have my attention now…you were saying?’ he chuckled

‘The boys are great, really well behaved’ you said as you noticed that Cillian looked at you with concern, thinking his sons were in trouble.

‘Really? I find that hard to believe’ he laughed before telling them off again for fighting with each other.

‘I have spoken to our principal, Mr Walsh, and he mentioned that you would be willing to get involved in the drama project as a volunteer. In order to get it approved by our board, I would need one parent to volunteer’ you explained shyly.

‘That’s right, so long as it is within the next three months. After that I will be in the US for a few months for work’ Cillian explained just before the boys interrupted him.

‘I assume that’s what the beard is for?’ you grinned, having noticed that it has slowly been growing longer and longer over the past few weeks.

‘Unfortunately’ he laughed, running one of his hands over his stubble just as Charlie came over and interrupted him.

‘Seriously Dad? Do you know how embarrassing this will be for us if you are working with Miss L/N?’ Charlie huffed.

‘Yes, Charlie wants to impress Nadine Seymour and you are really going to ruin it’ Hendrix teased, causing Charlie to nudge him

‘No fighting and no girlfriends! Understood?’ Cillian chuckled before inviting you for a coffee on Friday after school so that you can discuss the drama program.

You gladly accepted Cillian’s invitation, much to his sons’ disappointment.

‘Are you having a date with our teacher? That’s so disgusting’ you then heard Hendrix say as Cillian was walking off with them.

***Two Weeks Later***

Two weeks later, your drama project was in full swing and you had decided to allow the students to practise their play at a real theatre in Dublin once per week when Cillian was available.

You and Cillian got along well and his boys continuously teased him about hanging out with their teacher. But there was nothing awkward between you until, one day, you engaged into some deeper conversation while none of the children were around.

Cillian had found out about your son’s problems at school. His boys had told him about Lucas’s reputation and, over a few hours and a few beers following theatre practise, you opened up to him about your divorce and your relationship with Lucas’s father.

You didn’t know why you told him, but you enjoyed his company. He was a good listener and he was quite reserved and private which made you trust him.

But, over the following week, you started to enjoy his company a little too much. He certainly was an attractive man and, by what you could tell, a fantastic father. He seemed perfect and you knew you shouldn’t fantasise about him the way you did over that past week.

This was easier said than done. He had everything your ex lacked. He was patient, kind and empathetic. You enjoyed working with him and your son soon noticed, giving you a hard time about it soon enough.

To your surprise, after about three weeks of working together and following the last practise, Cillian took matters a little further than you had expected and, after all the kids had left and his boys had been picked up by their mother, Cillian asked you whether you wanted to have dinner with him some time.

You politely declined his offer, explaining to him that you weren’t ready to start dating and that sure felt like a date to you.

That same night, you regretted your decision after talking to your sister about it. You trusted your sister with everything and you encouraged you to give him a chance.

You were afraid to develop feeling, to let anyone to your life, but you were of the view that you must learn how to trust before you can love again.

‘Does your dinner offer still stand?’ you texted Cillian that night, hoping that he would reply quickly to your message.

‘It sure does’ Cillian texted back within seconds.

‘Pick me up at 6 o’clock tomorrow? Lucas is having a sleep over at a friend’s place’ you responded.

‘6 o’clock it is’ Cillian texted back.  

***Date Night***

The following evening, Cillian picked you up at 6 o’clock as promised and, after complimenting your outfit, which was a black buttoned dress, you both got into his car and drove into Dublin’s city centre.

‘So where are you taking me?’ you asked somewhat shyly and Cillian was quick to hand you a pamphlet.

‘A theatre?’ you asked surprised.

‘Sort of. It is a restaurant in the arts district where you can watch pop up shows during the drama festival. It’s contemporary, but you might spot some real good talent there’ Cillian explained and your excitement was growing.

His idea was very thoughtful and you appreciated the fact that this wasn’t going to be your average Italian restaurant date.

Over dinner you and Cillian talked a lot about your lives, your relationships and your children while watching the most interesting people perform the most interesting short plays. Some of them were real pieces of art and the performers put an immense effort into their performance and costumes.

After about two hours, Cillian offered to drive you home and you gladly accepted his offer.

‘Uhm would you like to come up for a drink?’ you asked as you arrived at your apartment building.

‘Sure, yes, why not’ Cillian said before turning off his car and following you to your apartment.

But the drink never eventuated and, as soon as you opened the door to your apartment, Cillian’s lips were on yours.

‘Fuck I am sorry Y/N’ Cillian said, pulling back quite quickly as he realised that things were probably moving too fast for you after what you had told him a few days ago.

‘No, don’t. I want this’ you reassured him, your voice quiet and your eyes fierce before pressing your lips back onto his.

‘For once, I want to feel like a real woman. I want to be desired... loved, I want to know what this feels like’ you said as you could see the fire in his eyes as you slowly dragged him into your bedroom.

He stepped forward then, tilting your chin up with his finger, brushing his lips over yours, and allowing his tongue to caress your lower lip. Your body shook softly as you melted into his embrace, your lips parting, granting access to Cillian's tongue, which immediately snaked into your mouth and embarked on a search for yours.

You sighed softly, draping your arms around his neck and pressing your body against Cillian's torso. The kiss was deep, passionate and almost immediately took your breath away. It was unlike anything you had ever experienced, stoking the fire already burning deep within your body. When Cillian finally released you from his embrace you were left panting and wanting more.

‘You are beautiful, you know that?’ Cillian whispered as he started unbuttoning the black dress that draped so alluringly across your breasts and waist.

‘If you say so’ you giggled before looking straight into his eyes. You proceeded to shrug the dress from your shoulders, blushing as Cillian's eyes consumed you.

He kissed you again, his hands sliding down to cup your ass as he pressed his fully hard cock against you.

‘I want you, Cillian’ you gasped softly as you felt him rubbing against you.

He walked you slowly back to the bed, laying you down gently and stripping his clothes from his body. You looked up at him, biting your lip, as he first pulled his t-shirt over his head, exposing his perfectly shaped chest and torso. Your heart began to pound as he kicked off his shoes and undid his pants, dropping them to his ankles. In no time at all his cock was free and pointing proudly to the ceiling.

You stared at it from your place on the bed, mesmerized by the way it bobbed and weaved as he gazed lustily at your nearly naked body.

You gasped when Cillian got to his knees, spreading your legs and placing soft butterfly kisses on your thighs. You blushed, knowing what Cillian intended, an act that your ex-husband had never, in all your years of marriage, performed.

‘Cillian’ you said quietly, attempting to close your legs.

Cillian held them apart gently as he looked up at your quizzically.

‘I've never...I've never had anyone do that to me’ you said, refusing to meet his eyes.

‘Really?’ he asked surprised and you answered by shaking your head almost shyly.

‘Well, there is a first time for everything Y/N. Just relax. I will stop whenever you tell me to, alright?’ he said, attempting to soothe and calm you and you nodded, biting your lip in anticipation.

And with that he reached up and grasped the waist of your panties, tugging at them gently. You submitted, lifting your hips and closing your eyes as Cillian slid the panties down your thighs. You kept your legs clamped tightly together however as he dropped them to the floor.

Your ex husband had been the first and only men you’ve been with and you were beyond nervous.

‘Cillian’ you murmured as he pressed gently on the insides of your knees in a silent request.

Your legs parted in response and you blushed a deep red at the thought of your most intimate spot exposed to Cillian's gaze. Leaning forward, he kissed the inside of each of your thighs before, a moment later, his tongue was buried in your soft folds, tasting your sweetness. Your body bucked wildly as he drew his tongue through your sweet flesh, your hips rising from the bed from the jolts of pure pleasure that shot through your body when he discovered the little bud that was your clit.

‘Oh God, Cillian!’ you moaned, covering your eyes with the back of your hand.

He opened your legs a little more, twisting his head and running the tip of his tongue the full length of your glistening pussy, savoring the sweet taste of your juice. Reaching up, he found one of your stiff nipples and tugged at it softly as he continued exploring you with his mouth.

You moaned, squirming on the bed from the pleasure building within you as he relentlessly worked at your pussy.

‘Don't stop please, fuck’ you hissed, grasping at the sheet and closing your thighs around his head.

Cillian had no intention of stopping as his tongue lapped at you, his mouth moving in circles as he sought ways to enhance your pleasure. Your body arched upwards when his lips closed around your clit, sucking it into his mouth and flicking at it gently with the very tip of his tongue. Your breathing was ragged, your moans increasing in volume as his mouth worked relentlessly at your sex. It took no more than a few minutes for your pleasure to build to an overwhelming level.

‘Oh my God! Cillian! Oh my God!’ you screamed as a searing orgasm claimed you.

Your entire body shuddered and shook as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through you. Cillian simply gripped your thighs and continued to lick your clit as your body convulsed on the bed. The orgasm seemed to go on forever and it was at least a minute before your mind was once again in control, Finally, your eyes flickered open and you looked at Cillian shyly, his head still positioned between your thighs.

‘Cillian, that was...oh my God, it was amazing. I never imagined...’ you said exhausted.

Cillian raised his head, grinning.

‘There's a lot more to come, Y/N’ he replied, raising himself to your knees.

He could see the trepidation on your face as you eyed his hard, swollen cock which pointed eagerly towards the ceiling.

‘It's okay, I will go slowly’ he said softly, caressing your thigh with his fingers. ‘Do you have…?’ he then went on to ask and, before he could finish his sentence, you shook your head.

‘I’ve just had my implant replaced’ you assured him and this was all he needed to hear.

Reaching down and grasping his member he dragged his head through your folds, causing you to moan once again. The heat from his cock was palpable, the touch of it electric, as he moved it through your puffy lips.

‘Cillian, please... I need you’ you moaned.

‘Not yet, Y/N’ he teased, sliding the head of his cock up and down your slick slit, spreading your soft lips but refusing to penetrate your just yet.

‘God, Cillian... please’ you begged.

He relented then, groaning as he pushed the head of his cock into you, your tight walls gripping him as he pushed deeper, filling you.

‘Oh god yes’ you hissed, your eyes glued to his as he began stroking the full length of his cock into you.

He kissed you, taking your mouth with his as you moaned in pleasure. Drawing his hips back, Cillian's cock slid easily from your sex, eliciting a delicious whimper from your throat. Immediately he thrust back into you in one smooth movement and then repeated the action, giving you deep hard strokes as he built to a steady rhythm.

You moaned and squirmed beneath him; your body rising from the bed to meet each thrust of his almost perfect manhood.

‘Cillian, fuck’ you gasped as he worked himself in and out of you. Your body was on fire, every nerve alight as Cillian fucked you in a way you had never before experienced. Usually, your ex-husband would mount you and simply jackhammer into you for a couple of minutes before gasping in your ear as he came. Cillian, however, was intent on ensuring your pleasure, varying the pace and depth of his thrusts, gyrating his hips against yours, and changing the angle now and then to ensure that he ground against your clit.

Fuck, Y/N... you are so tight. It feels so good’ Cillian moaned.

Cillian, no...’ you whimpered as he pulled his cock from you.

‘Don’t worry, I am not finished with you yet. Turn over’ he chuckled.

You scrambled to your hands and knees quickly, the need to have Cillian's cock inside you driving your movements. Cillian, for his part, felt the same and he wasted no time in entering you again.

He thrust deep into you, driving the breath from your body as he pounded his cock into your sweet, tight pussy over and over. You were in heaven; Cillian was taking you in exactly the way you had imagined so many times over the past few weeks when you dreamt about him. His desire for you palpable in every thrust of his rock-hard member.

As Cillian continued to thrust into you, you buried your face in the pillow, moaning continuously as Cillian took you, the friction of his shaft against your tight walls sending waves of pleasure to the sensory centers of your brain. Instinctively, you pushed back against him, attempting to get every inch of him into you. You were rewarded with a long, guttural moan.

‘Y/N, I'm close’ he warned you.

‘Good, so am I’ you gasped in response. ‘Take me, Cillian’ you moaned.

He picked up the pace, his thrusting becoming almost desperate as he fought to make you finish before he did. He held you in place tightly, his solid shaft slamming into you again and again.

Suddenly you were there, crying out loudly as an intense, almost nuclear, burst of pleasure erupted from deep within and spread through your body.

‘Oh god yes, Cillian fuck’ you screamed, your pussy convulsing around Cillian's shaft.

The sight and sound of your orgasm was too much for Cillian and after just a few more thrusts, he too erupted, forcing spurts of warm cum into you. His eyes glazed and he lost all sense of time and place as he surrendered to the intense pleasure swamping his body.

‘Fuck, that's so good!’ he panted as the two of you, shuddering and shaking in unison, reveled in the fruits of your labor.

Finally, it was over. Gently, you uncoupled your panting bodies and, rolling onto his back, Cillian gasped again, eliciting a wide smile from you.

You snuggled against his warm chest, your thigh cast carelessly over his legs. You were content, basking in the warm glow of perfect sex.

But, your sense of lust and desire was soon to come to an end as you heard Lucas shouting.

‘Mum, are you home?’ he yelled out, causing both Cillian’s and your eyes to widen.

   Tag List (Cillian):

@lilymurphy03  @deefigs @theflamecrystal   @desperate-and-broken  @weepingstudentfishhorse   @livinginfantaxy  @rosey1981  @atomicsoulcollecto  @peakyboyslover  @nerdy4itall  @elenavampire21  @hanster1998  @mariapaiva13  @fairypitou  @harry-is-my-sunflower  @zozeebo  @lauren-raines-x @kasaikawa  @littlewierdalien  @sad-huffle-nerd  @theflamecrystal   @peakymalfoyscullymulder  @themissthang  @0ghostwriter0  @stylescanbeatmyback  @1-800-peakyblinders @datewithgianni  @momoneymolife  @ntmynouis @lilymurphy03  @mcntsee@cloudofdisney @missymurphy1985 @peakymalfoyscullymulder  @otterly-fey @janelongxox  @uchihacumdump @basiclassy  @being-worthy  @chaotic-bean-of-smolness  @margoo0 @chocolatehalo​  @vhscillian​  @ysmmsy​  

Cannot Tag (please check your settings):

@l0tsofpennies @trolleydolly @avonlady1985 @chrisevanshoeee  @daydreamingnymph  @fookingshelby

[2-cute-4-school]

𝘕𝘊𝘛 𝘋𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘬𝘪𝘥𝘴

requested by the lovely @m4rshm4llow​ (*ૂ❛ัᴗ❛ั*ૂ)

Mark Lee

i think mark is quite good with children too when he’s not frozen in awkwardness

but i wouldn’t trust with him alone with a kid for too long tbh

like i see him as someone who could probably entertain a kid for a couple of hours succesfully but taking care of them?? yeah no (˵¯͒ བ¯͒˵)

so let’s say he had to tag along with you to babysit because he didn’t want to waste any time he could spend with you *let my boy receive his love*

but he’s not thaaaat excited he just hopes that the kid will get K.O.-ed early in the night so he could have some alone time with you( ͡~ ͜ʖ ͡°).... TO CUDDLE ya nasties

so when you arrive at your cousin’s house and you come in

he surely DIDN’T expect a kid to literally throw himself onto you and cling to your legs while chanting your name o(*^▽^*)o

the only way you can get him to detach so you can walk is if you pick him up in your arms

“y/n, who’s he?” mark just stares at the chubby finger pointed at him and produces an *HIGHLY AWKWARD* smile like (*′☉.̫☉)

“oh this is mark, my boyfriend”

*silence* “ew”

now hold on rewind

did a kid just ‘ew’ at mark (｡☉︵ ಠ╬)

and then he had THE AUDACITY to cling to your neck while rambling about his new robot toy and mark had to THIRDWHEEL the entire night

now he’s sure you have superpowers how could you tame that!!??!?! even haechan could be considered mild in comparison to... this ʕ •̀ o •́ ʔ

he’s pouty the entire evening while you play and take care of the newly spawned devil in town who HOGS your attention the entire time

so when he finally runs out of energy a bit later than mark would have hoped for, he’s quick to envelop you in his arms and drag you into a well deserved cuddle session ༼ つ ◕_◕ ༽つ

“what took you so looong?”

“sorry sorry, i had to look under his man for boogeyman”

“pffft i think boogeyman is the one looking under his bed for that kid”

but he does melt when he remembers the way your eyes sparkled as the child giggled excitedly on your lap while imagining himself in the picture too (๑°꒵°๑)･*♡

Huang Renjun

renjun as we all know is just a bit short tempered so i’m not sure where he stands in his relationship with kids 눈_눈

but also he brings up his younger cousins quite often and he seems very fond of them whenever he talks about them

so i guess he likes kids but like good kids ya know Σ(-᷅_-᷄๑)

so let’s say you’re shopping in like one of those bigger supermarkets

and you hear cries

your mother instincts literally GO OFF LIKE CRAZY

renjun doesn’t even have the time to blink before you’re dragging him in the direction of the noise with such precision you might as well have a radar at this point ᕕ༼✿•̀︿•́༽ᕗ

turns out a little girl was lost between the tall aisles

renjun is a lil bewildered cause what is he supposed to do? not like he’s tall enough to see other the aisles in his dreams maybe

but you seem to know EXACTLY what to do as you crouch down in front of the girl and speak to her so gently not even renjun can hear properly

and then as if nothing happened she stops crying

just like that so renjun decides to try his luck too o｜◕ˇ▽ˇ◕｜ツ

“come on, let’s go find mommy and daddy”

and lemme tell ya the little girl sprung into your arms and clung to you with everything she had as she mumbled into your neck

“i only wanna go with miss” (つ﹏<)･ﾟ｡

his eye twitched a lil ngl （；¬＿¬)

and that’s how you end up taking a stroll to the announcement desk with a whole child gripping onto your hand

renjun would have never imagined his grocery run to turn into this

he only wanted some damn carrots not a frickin child ಠ╭╮ಠ

thankfully it didn’t take long for the parents to run over and thank you for returning their child safely but there was only one problem left

getting her to let go of you

that was a whole ass dramatic goodbye

poor renjun was left exhausted after this he gave up any grocery run he intended to do and dragged you home pronto (ﾉTдT)ﾉ

he admires you so much for how you handled the situation and how you seemed to be so natural and in your element he can only think of how great of a mother you will be in the future with his beside you hopefully

Lee Jeno

one word, his greatest asset: PATIENCE

i see jeno as a man of patience which is more than just helpful when it comes to handling children ❀.(*´◡`*)❀.

he’s also volunteered in all these programs that involved children and he did really well if you ask me soooo he’s a good ally to have (︶.̮︶✽)

and you really REALLY want to volunteer together at one of those like emergency centres for children or something

and who is he to deny his love? he couldn’t have even if he wanted to, you’re too cute in his eyes so he lets you get your way anyway

so before you step inside one of the caretakers gives you some advice

warns you that the new kid, a little girl still in primary school, is still very closed off and wary of everyone

but as you step inside the kids get drawn to you like moths to a flame, swarming around you and asking you questions while dragging you in the living room to play with them

jeno just trails behind, watching the entire commotion with his soft eye smile as he understands (◍•ᴗ•◍)

he knows that you just have a way with people, he’s been in the same position mesmerized by you, it’s one of the reasons he loves you so much and seeing you so purely happy surrounded by children

MELTED HIM ♡(.◜ω◝.)♡

eventually you drag him into the happy circle too and he seems to fit in just right by your side with giggling children everywhere around you

he ends up using his muscly arms ᕙ[ ˵ ͡’ ω ͡’ ˵ ]ᕗ as swings

“hey!! i’m stronger than you!!! let’s have a fight!!!!”

you just giggle as you colour some pictures with a few kids but stare at your boyfriend from the corner of your eye

jeno is so simply happy and comfortable he doesn’t even notice when you disappear from the crowd at first

but when he does his eyes search wildly for you like a lost puppy Σ(ﾟﾛ､ﾟ;)

but then he spots you

curled up on a small couch in the corner of the room, deep in conversation with the new girl whose eyes seemed just a little brighter as you clutched her hand in yours warmly ｡ﾟ.(*´◡` )

and jeno just realises again

you’re just working your charm once again and once again jeno falls for you for the nth time, deeper than the last time and lighter than the next

Lee Donghyuck

this manchild right here smh ୧༼◔益◔୧ ༽

now don’t get me wrong i’m pretty sure he’s decent at least with children

given he has two younger siblings and he often talks about hanging out with his little brother also have you seen that vid with the little girl?? the was he talked to her ⊂（♡⌂♡）⊃

buuuut BUT he’s also DYING like a fish out of water without attention

so when he invites you to tag along to his hangout with his lil bro

he didn’t expect TO BE THE ONE THIRDWHEELING!!!! (╬ಠ益ಠ)

you keep feeding and pampering his brother who basks in your full attention half because he loves it half because he loves the annoyed look on hyuck’s face

“babe i want some kimchi too” (*ﾟ∀ﾟ*)

“oh!!! sure, i’m sorry for hoarding it all”

and as hyuck awaits with his eyes closed and his mouth open with a pleased smile

you plop a bowl of kimchi in front of him and turn back to his brother as he tugs on the sleeve of your shirt

hyuck, muttering to himself: ‘i should have left you home, you lil brat, both of you traitors!!!!!’ (ノTДT)ノ ┻┻

he pouts and sighs dramatically with crossed arms the entire night while watching you interact oh so sweetly with his little brother

but he can’t deny the warm feeling of fondness swarming is his chest seeing you get along so well with his family and being so genuinely happy when you’re with kids

still complains to you when he gets you alone

“i can’t believe you love my brother more than me!!! ME, YOUR SWEET LOVELY CUTIE BOYFRIEND!!!” ‧º·(˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ )‧º·˚

“first of all, i wouldn’t stretch it that far-” “how is that stretching-?!??!”

“i’m sorry i’m sorry, my sweet lovely cutie boyfriend, i just missed him, he’s so cute and i haven’t seen him in so long and he seems to grow so fast every time we meet” (oꆤ︵ꆤo)

NOW hyuck is real soft how can he be mad at you when you’re THIS ADORABLE AFSKSGDFSAF-

hyuck just presses a sweet smooch to your temple and mutters

“he only acts that cute with you, he’s a devil at home”

“sheesh, i wonder who he takes after” *pointed look* (￢ε￢　)

Na Jaemin

my man here will most likely compete with YOU for the CHILD’S attention

it’s like GAME OVER for him if a child rejects him ε-(≖д≖﹆)

he’s never gonna get over this betrayal from both sides

so let’s say he takes you with him when he offers to babysit a cousin or neighbour idk you get where i’m getting at

and he’s already ‘play buddies’ with him as jaemin likes to put it (,,꒪꒫꒪,,)

and you’re slightly acquitanced with him from a previous visit to jaemin’s house when you coincidentally met

so when jaemin opens the door and announces his presence LOUDLY, the little boy doesn’t waste A SECOND to waddle in the hallway and meet you both ლ(＾ω＾ლ)

and jaemin crouches to meet him midway and-

and he *swooshes* past jaemin and into your open arms while giggling

jaemin, a lonely man in the middle of a hallway: (ಥ⌣ಥ)

the entire day, your boyfriend tries to steal the kid’s attention or bribe him over with sweets or toys

now you’re wondering who the real brat is

is salty about the UTTER rejection but also can’t help but watch you both so fondly with a proud hopefully in future for real fatherly smile (*ૂ❛ัᴗ❛ั*ૂ)

“are you practicing, y/n?”

“pardon?”

“practice, are you practicing?”

“for...?” ∑（´△｀○）

“ya know” *wiggles eyebrows* “taking care of our future children”

“learn how to control your own brat at home read jisung first and THEN we can talk, jaemama”

jaemin can’t believe this low blow, how could you after everything he’s done: cooking for you, taking you on bike rides even though he was the one who wanted to, even buying pads!!! or even worse!!!!! STRAWBERRY YOGHURT!!!!!! ∑(ﾟ台ﾟlll

he’s still pouty as you all put on an animation and snuggle a blanket

but then!!!! you fall asleep with the little boy in your embrace

and jaemin!!!!! just!!! CAN’T!!! stay mad!!!!!! cause you’re both just SO absolutely irrevocably CUTE!!!!!! ♡( ૢ⁼̴̤̆ ꇴ ⁼̴̤̆ ૢ)~ෆ♡

so he just HAS TO lay a *meaningful* smooch on your forehead as he sleepily moves closer to you both, one arm wrapping loosely around you while the other caresses the child’s head, lulling the both of them to sleep his protecc instincts kicked in y’all

Zhong Chenle

he has already expressed his wish to have a family someday since he wants to live the same happiness his brother does with his own family

which i think is ABSOLUTELY PRECIOUS

and we all know he’s WHIPPED for his nephew ˞♡ฅ(ᐤˊ꒳ฅˋᐤ)

but unfortunately

that doesn’t necessarily mean he’s good with children yet

let me give you a context over here

so he’s left alone for a short while with his baby nephew which shouldn’t be too bad since technically chenle is an adult at least legally okay??

and right things are all good until BABY STARTS TO CRY i’m talking about the actual baby here although chenle might cry too at this point

and chenle just PANICS when he realises that just shushing won’t work and whacking a hand over his mouth *cough* like he does to jisung *cough* isn’t an option (╬⁽⁽ ⁰ ⁾⁾ Д ⁽⁽ ⁰ ⁾⁾)

but thankfully, you’re there!!!!!!

“may i?” you ask chenle as you stretch out your arms in his direction

chenle has never passed over anything faster in his entire life џ(ºДºџ)

so when you coddle the baby in your arms and just gently bounce him a little he just settles down so cutely and most important QUIETLY as he stares up at you with curious eyes, small fingers curling up around a necklace swung around your neck or just the fabric of your shirt

chenle is all like (๑•́o•̀๑)!!

HOW DID YOU JUST DO THAT!!!!

and he watches with eyes even more curious than his nephew’s eyes as the baby slowly dozes off peacefully in your arms (꒡ ω ꒡ )zzz

it just hits him just how natural the scene looks

he approaches carefully once he’s sure his nephew fell asleep and lays a gentle hand on your head as he peers down at the cute chubby baby face

“you’re a life saver, how did you even manage to do that?” ◎ܫ◎

“you know, i have to take care of you all the time so-”

he flicks your forehead faster than you can finish that sentence

way to ruin a moment (oT-T)

but *SIKEEE* the baby fusses a little as soon as you frown and chenle immediately freaks out

he showers the spot on your forehead with kisses and his nephew settles down once again as you smile at him proudly ໒( ͡ᵔ ▾ ͡ᵔ )७

chenle rolls his eyes as if he doesn’t wish for this scene to become familiar to him sometime in the future

Park Jisung

this chick is still a baby who barely hatched

so he’s still in CONSTANT WONDER of the world ༼ つ ◕o◕ ༽つ

and in this episode of ‘jisung the explorer’ he’s discovering... ACTUAL babies

so you were on a date at the local mall when you met with a family friend of your mom’s who was struggling with her fussy baby girl in a carrier while trying to shop for some baby products

so you offer to watch over the girl until her mom finishes up (•́⌄•́๑)૭✧

but just as you’re about to attach the baby carrier to yourself, an old woman asks for directions around the shop

so you pass the baby to jisung for literally a minute to show the lady the way └(>ω<。)┐

and jisung is HIGHKEY PANICKED

he holds the baby by the underarms at arms length and obviously she doesn’t enjoy that and just starts wailing in the middle of the shop

and people just... stare (,Ծ_Ծ,)

and jisung is all like ‘IT’S NOT MINE!!!!! AND I’M NOT STEALING OR MISTREATING IT EITHER!!!!!!’

the moment you’re back in his sight, he’s THRUSTING that tiny loud bald creature in your arms it’s a child jisung ║ * ರ Ĺ̯ ರ * ║

and he expects for you to panic too but right away

the baby quietens down as you cuddle her close to your chest and coo softly in a hushed baby voice

and she plays with your shirt while you glare at your boyfriend (눈_눈)

“y/n, you sorcerer, how did you just shut it off?”

“i didn’t ‘shut it off’, she’s a baby not a tape recorder”

“oh REALLY, i couldn’t tell the difference for a moment there”

you just might consider returning jisung and keeping the baby（ ಠωಠ）

he watches in wonder as you entertain the baby for the next few minutes until her mother comes back

and he swears his heart skips a beat when he sees your smile widen with tenderness once you get a small giggle out of the baby (*ฅ́˘ฅ̀*)

he supposes maybe she isn’t so bad since she makes you so happy

even though she was louder than even chenle which is an accomplishment at this point

and when jisung notices your slight pout once you gave the baby back and parted ways he makes sure to shower your face in kisses until you regain the same smile that made him fall so deep in love with you

[fiveisnumber1]

Timeless - Five Hargreeves x Reader

Main story parts:

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30

_________________________

Pt 30 - Countdown to Chaos

After Five had vanished to go make a deal with the devil, you stood in the emptiness of the night staring at the spot where he had been. You weren't sure how you thought the night was supposed to go but it definitely didn't go the way it should've. It was a mess, an absolute clusterfuck, and yet, you weren't surprised. Of course, the Hargreeves were going to have a hard time confronting their father. They hadn't seen the man in years, especially Five, who had seen him last when he ran away from home and got stuck. You knew their trauma was long-lasting but they could've worked together rather than working against each other. And now here you all were, separated again and having to go down even more risky channels to get out of this god-forsaken timeline. You shook your head and let out a sigh as there was nothing left to do tonight but go home. Slowly you turned away from the building and walked the block slowly to where Charlie said he'd be parked. As you approached you made your way over to the passenger side and opened the door. Charlie looks over towards you and immediately notices the look on your face.

"Oh it was BAD bad, wasn't it?" He asks

As you got in the passenger seat you slumped down in it and replied,

"Immensely so."

"I called it. I knew having them get together with their dad was going to be worse than yesterday." Charlie comments as he starts to drive away

You knew he was right and he did call it but this was not the place to be doing so. The world was on a collision course and you were right in the path of destruction. You turn your head to look at him as you state,

"This is no time for bragging Charlie, things got really messed up."

"Well, it's not like you revealed your powers," Charlie says nonchalantly

You place your face in your hands as you slump further into your seat. Charlie takes a glance over to you as he drives and questions,

"You didn't reveal your powers, right?"

Taking your face out of your hands you look towards him with an awkward grimaced expression but don't say any words. Charlie glances back over and you and when he realizes you're not saying anything he slams on the breaks stopping the car. His eyes go wide as he quickly states,

"(Y/N), this is bad."

"I know!" you exclaim

"(Y/N) this is really bad. How did this happen?" He replies, a hint of panic in his voice

"I didn't really plan on doing it but then Reggie was going on a tirade at Diego and Diego was getting so sad and so I got mad and I threw a knife at Reggie and became visible and then I had to explain myself and then I got angrier and started showing off my powers and now he knows I have powers and I really fucked up." You rant frantically

"Oh no, this is bad...this is bad."

"That's not even the worst part." You complain

"What could be worse than showing your powers to Reginald?!"

"HE SAID HE WAS MY FATHER!" You yell

"Oh god, that IS worse!" Charlie exclaims back "Oh this is so bad. This is really really bad (Y/N)."

"I know and like...I love all the Hargreeves dearly, even Luther who is being a dick to me right now, but holy shit when everyone gets together everything falls apart and so fast. Like surprisingly fast."

"What do we do? Do you have a plan? You have a plan right?" Charlie asks distressed

"Well, I don't think I can get Allison to rumor him into forgetting I have powers because that would require getting her to see him in person again and having the two of them talk long enough that she can rumor him which seems unlikely. So in terms of a plan...we have no plan."

"No there has to be a plan." Charlie remarks "Okay okay. What if we all go to Europe? You, me, your boyfriend, and all of his family just up and leave for Europe right now. We'll change our names and start new lives."

"No that wouldn't work."

"Why not?"

"Those people can not effectively gather together even if their life depended on it and I'm pretty sure only you and I have passports at this time so we would be the only ones allowed outside of the country."

"Damn, you're right. "

"Also, on a lesser note, the world is ending in a few days so even if we did all manage to go to Europe it probably would be all for naught."

Charlie sucks in his breath before letting it out defeated. Plopping back into his seat, he looks at the roof of the car before asking,

"So what do we do now then?"

"We go home." You reply quietly

Charlie continues to look up at the ceiling for a bit before letting out a huff. Tilting his head back down to look at the road, he places his hands back on the wheels and slowly starts to drive back to your house. You shook your head disappointment across your face as you thought about the predicament you were in. The predicament you all were in. As you continued to lean back in your seat as you looked at the passing flashes of street lights above. Everything was moving so fast. You knew you would get home at some point no matter how slow Charlie drove or how long the path he drove took and you were worried about what lied at the end of that drive.

Five was not happy with what lied at the end of his journey either. His siblings couldn't keep it together for one evening. Not even an hour. It was ridiculous how unreliable they were. And yet, here he was making his way to the second to last person on earth he'd ask for help to try and get them all back to 2019 where they belonged. He needed to get all of his siblings out of this time but he especially wanted to get you out of here. If he could get everyone back to 2019 then things would be okay and the two of you could have the life together that you deserved.

Five's mind was filled with the thoughts of you. He needed to get you out of this timeline, especially now that this version of his father knew you had powers. He didn't think that his father would hurt you, especially since he had called himself your father, but Reginald was still Reginald and Five was worried about what would come next. You were probably on your way back to the house you shared with that man and any number of things could happen between now and the time he saw you next. He needed to get this contingency plan over with and fast. Arriving at the hotel the handler was staying at he made his way up to the second floor to room 217. As he approached the double-doored room he felt a sense of deja vu. It was only five days for him since he had last met up with her at a different semi-formal hotel room. Five paused in front of the door and took a breath. Raising his hand up he knocked on the door and within seconds the double doors opened to reveal the handler standing behind them. it was as if she knew he was coming. The handler had her signature smile on her face, one that looked happy but hid a sinister nature behind it.

"Ah! Just in time for a nightcap." She commented before heading into the room

Five hesitated for a second before cautiously stepping into the room. He took a look around and the place and once he felt he had scoped it out enough turned around and shut the doors behind him. A critical look was on his face as he approached where the handler stood. With two drinks in her hand and a cigarette between her teeth, the handler turned to look at Five.

"To be clear, I take out the board you get me and my family home. No more doomsday, no more apocalypse. Is that correct?" Five questioned

With a drink in hand, the handler walked over to a nightstand by the bed and picks up a piece of paper before proceeding to slowly lay on her side across the bed. She looks up at Five and replies,

"That's the deal."

Five bites the inside of his cheek as he looks around the room. He really didn't want to do this. He knew that working with her was never going to end well and yet the desire to save you and his family was worth the risk that might come with this deal. Looking back at the handler, Five states,

"Then I'm in."

The handler twiddles a piece of paper in between her fingers before extending it out for Five to take. Five doesn't move from his spot trying not to get any closer to her but leans in slightly so he can grab the paper. Once he takes it from her he unfolds it and reads what it says.

The Lonely Lodger Inn.

Oshkosh, Wisconsin, 1982.

"So how do I get there and back?" Five questioned

"I have a briefcase for you. Specifically, programmed for two trips. One to take you to the exact time and place listed on that note where the board is and one to take you right back to Dallas, on the morning of November 22nd, 1963."

Clever. Of course, she wouldn't just hand him a regular briefcase, then he would be able to bring everyone back without having to go kill the board. Five hated how she was one step ahead of him.

"Where is it?" Five asked

"Oh, the briefcase is in the corner over there." The handler replied taking another puff of her cigarette

Five looked towards his right to the corner of the room she had gestured to and saw a briefcase sitting there. Carefully, he made his way over and grabbed it. As he did so he could feel the handler's laser-like gaze on him, boring into his back. It sent an odd feeling down his spine that he didn't appreciate. Picking up the briefcase, he pocketed the note she gave him before turning around and heading towards the door. As Five reaches out for the door handle, the handler comments,

"Y'know Five, I'm getting pretty tired of not getting to meet your sweet little girlfriend in person. I'm sure you're doing this for her, aren't you?"

Five turns on his heel and with vile in his voice retorts,

"My reasons for doing this are none of your business and you will never meet her."

"Aw, don't be so harsh. I just want to see her up close and take a look at that pretty face you happen to love so much." The handler teases

"If you so much as lay a hand on her I will personally make sure that when you are killed you stay dead this time." Five rebukes

He was done with the handler's games. He hated the way that she talked about you, it made his blood boil, and if the handler wasn't the person he needed to help get everyone out of Dallas he probably would've killed her on the spot. He just hoped that you'd never have to see her in person. Turning back around Five opens the door and starts to walk out. From behind her Five can hear the handler call out,

"We'll see Five. I have my ways."

Not looking back Five stated,

"And I have mine."

And just like that, he was gone and on his way to get back to you as soon as possible.

Soon was not soon enough though because with each minute you got closer and closer to arriving back home at the mansion in Dallas. You and Charlie drove down the road towards the house quietly, nervous tension in the air. Both of you worried about what might occur next. As you passed the estate in which Klaus lived with his cult you knew the drive was almost over. Mentally you tried to prepare yourself as the car rolled up into the driveway of the house. Slowly the car came to a stop in front of the main door. You and Charlie both looked towards the door but didn't move from the car. You weren't nervous per se but this was uncharted territory having someone other than Charlie know about your powers, especially since it was Reggie. After a moment the two of you carefully opened the doors to the car and step out. Closing the car door you stare up at the house that only a few days ago you'd comfortably enter and exit with ease. Charlie makes his way around the car and stands next to you. The two of you continue to look up at the towering building as Charlie states,

"We can dip if you want."

A small smile came to your face and you felt a bit better hearing your friend correctly use one of your future words.

"Good usage." you complimented

"Thank you, but I'm serious. We can go. I'll speed us back to town we can find your boyfriend and just...I don't know do something."

You paused for a second. You could run but it wouldn't be like you. You had been in worse situations in life. You had jumped through time and started over when you were 13, you had fought criminals on multiple occasions, you had almost died, and then jumped through time and started over again. A fire built within you as you remembered the fact that you had lived with since you first met Reginald. You were stronger than this man, he had no hold over you.

"No, Charlie. I've been in worse situations. Whatever lies for me on the other side of that door I can deal with it."

Charlie looked towards and saw the determined look in your eyes as you stared at the building. A smirk came to his face as he could see the fire of courage radiating off of you, but Charlie's smirk faltered though. From the start, your strength had always impressed him, and yet even with your evident bravery he couldn't help but worry for you, his only friend. Charlie let out a breath he didn't know he was holding in before saying,

"Okay, let's go."

You gave him a small nod and the two of you walked into the house. As you arrived in the foyer Marie approached you with a smile on her face. With her hands clasped together in front of her, she greeted,

"Welcome home, (Y/N) and hello, Charlie. Sir Hargreeves has requested to speak with you in his office at your earliest convenience."

"Oh, thank you. We'll head there straight away." You formally replied

You and Charlie started to walk in the direction of his office but Marie stepped in front of the two of you blocking the path. A smile still on her face as she added,

"Alone, miss (Y/N)."

You turned to look at Charlie and you could see the concern in his eyes even if the rest of his face looked blank. Turning to your friend you looked up at him and calmly say,

"Go to my room, Charlie."

Charlie looks at you and his mouth opens a little bit as if he was about to say something but you place a hand on his shoulder squeezing it tightly as you look him in the eyes. In a steady tone you direct,

"Go to my room, Charlie."

Charlie lets out a sigh before giving you a small nod and turning away. You watch as he walks up the foyer stairs to head to your room before turning away and walking towards the office. When you arrive at where the office was you see the door is already open and Reginald is sitting behind his desk vigorously writing in his notebook. Stepping into the doorway you speak in a flat tone,

"You requested my presence?"

"Yes. Take a seat." Reginald replies not looking up from his writing "And get the door will you."

You let out a small huff before walking into the room and closing the door behind you. Approaching him you sit in a chair on the opposite side of the desk, displeasure on your face. You watch as he continues to write not saying anything or even looking up at you. Rolling your eyes you start the conversation,

"Why am I here Reggie?"

Placing his pen down, he stops writing in his notebook and looks up to focus on you. Clasping his hands together he places them on his desk as he responds formally,

"I have questions."

"About what?" you question unenthused

"You, for one" He states, "But also my apparently seven adopted children, and this awful future you all seem to mention."

Your head tilts to the side curiously as a wry smile appears on your face. Crossing your arms you lean back into your chair and look at him. A Latin phrase you had heard many times came to your mind.

"Saepe ne utile quidem est scire quid futuram sit," You spoke

The phrase meaning, often it is not advantageous to know what will be. There was an irony to the words as the person who had said them to you so many times was the man sitting before you. Granted, he had said this to you during the years you lived with him in the future, but it was ironic nonetheless. Reginald's eyebrows raised at your words, looking almost impressed with your response. Leaning forward slightly Reginald replies,

"Sapiens autem semper ad futurum parari."

Knowing Reginald, he would figure out the answers to his questions by whatever means he had to. You were not a fan of the idea of talking about the future with him but if you answered his questions you could at least shape the narrative. Letting out a small breath you uncrossed your arms and sat upright. Reluctantly you nodded towards him, agreeing to whatever line of questioning he had in mind, but added,

"I'll answer questions but I get to decide on how much information is given."

"Fair enough." He responds, reopening his notebook "You were born on the same day as my alleged children?"

"They are your children." You state "and yes, I was on October 1st, 1989 at 12 p.m. sharp like all the others that day."

"But you mentioned you had a father back at dinner." Reginald comments

You paused for a moment. It had been so long since you fully stopped and thought about your dad. It was so long since you last saw him, almost a decade at this point, but you did have a father, and he was the best one you could've asked for. Speaking up again you said,

"I did. He was not biologically related to me but he raised me as if I was. All the children born that day were spontaneous. The women were not pregnant when the day started but by noon all of them had given birth."

"Curious." Reginald remarks

He takes down some notes before looking up at you again and inquiring,

"So if you had your own family, how did you come about mine?"

"Accidentally." You answer curtly

"Elaborate." Reginald requests

You paused again to think about how to word the information he was asking for. You and the Hargreeves had already left an impact on this timeline which made you concerned about the impacts on the future. Although there was a chance everything would be normal upon your return to 2019, you still wondered what could happen given your involvement in the 1960s. You had to be careful with how much you spoke because if the timeline was changed you suspected he might try to find and adopt you. It's not like your mother would even consider giving you up, nor did she ever report the details of your spontaneous birth to anyone other than your father, so you were not one of the 43 he would know about but still...it was risky. You needed to express enough information to quell his curiosity but not enough to implicate yourself and your family.

"My family was around the mansion up north, close enough that the rumors of an eccentric billionaire adopting seven mysterious children, born the same day and time as me, who never left the house, made their way to my parents' ears. They outright told me not to go near the house but curiosity got the best of me and I went anyway." You explain "I used my powers to get through the gates and became invisible to sneak into the courtyard. I just went to have a look around but instead, I was accidentally pushed over a bench and that's when I first came in contact with your family. Specifically, your son Five."

"The one you're partnered with." Reginald certifies

"Correct." You affirm

Reginald turns back down to look at his notebook and writes more in it. You couldn't really see what he was writing but the number of lines of words appearing down on the paper made you both curious and concerned.

"A peculiar first meeting, but I've probably heard worse," Reginald utters as he continues to write

"Oh, thanks." You remarked sarcastically, rolling your eyes

No matter the situation or person he always seemed to find a way to criticize things.

"And the rest of them?"

"I had been using my powers to spend time with Five without being noticed but at some point, we were found out. We came clean and soon after I was introduced to the rest of the children." You say, recalling that first meeting with his siblings

Oh, how simple times were when you were all small and young and the biggest problem you faced was getting enough time to hang out between you going to school and them fighting crime. Things were better back then. Easier. And once again you wondered what life would've been like if Five hadn't jumped all those years ago. You were pulled out of your nostalgic thoughts when you heard Reginald go,

"Interesting."

Placing his pen down Reginald turns back to you.

"I'm assuming the children were under my instruction with their powers, so why are you more powerful and less problematic than them?"

It took a second to register his words but when you did you tilted your head and furrowed your eyebrows at him. Did he really just ask that? How dare he speak about them like that. You knew that he had only met them in passing so it was infuriating to you that he'd to even be making such statements. Now, was he technically correct? Yes. But it didn't give him the right to do so because he didn't know them so he had no basis to talk about such matters. You let out a huff as you started to explain,

"Why am I more powerful? Well, for one I kind of won the power lottery. The power to manipulate molecules, the things that make up our existence, generally can cast a wider net of potential abilities than super strength or rumoring people to do things. Their powers are valid and useful but it's hard to diversify those assets."

As you thought about how you needed to explain this to Reginald you could feel a fire build within you. You sat upright in your chair, with your shoulder back and your arms firmly seated on the armrests, hands forming into fists. You stared him down as he waited for more of a response and when you had formed your thoughts you chastised,

"On top of that, I chose to develop my powers naturally. My parents helped build a foundation so I wouldn't blow the house up or get stuck in a wall but after that, I dictated if I wanted to learn or not. There was no forcing, coercion, or expectations. I learned because I wanted to and my parents supported my efforts with love. It might sound cliche but love truly is the most powerful force in this world, and I'm less 'problematic' as you put it because you didn't raise me. I was raised with that love."

Reginald looked at you quietly, readjusting himself in his seat before saying,

"Are you insinuating that the reason that group was an uncouth disgrace to my legacy was due to my parentage?"

"Insinuating? No. Stating? Yes." you retorted

"Oh really now?" He questioned

"Your children have their issues, but it was of no fault of their own. It was you who instilled these deep-rooted traumas and conflicts in them and provided them with no parental guidance on how to deal with these issues. They had no support system. They were child soldiers rather than children. You gave them numbers one through seven and reduced them to a ranking scale." You berated

You stared at Reginald intensely and he could see the fire in your eyes. Literal fire in your eyes that were red and flickered like glowing embers. Your emotions boiling over to the point where you were starting to physically express them with your power. Reginald's eyes widened as he saw the power you held. Picking up his pen he began to take more notes, but you felt as if you were going to explode if you continued to sit in the chair across from him. Getting up quickly you walked away from the seat and across the room to look out the window. Facing away from him you continued to say,

"And when they were all gone you gave me the number zero because you thought I was better than them. I rejected that number because I am a person and I am not better than them. But the reason you like me so much, the reason you've always liked me better, placed me higher, whether you explicitly showed it or not, is because I'm everything you wanted them to be that they never became. And why is that? Because I was raised as a human not an object of violence."

"So I'm the problem," Reginald replied

"Yes, and the problems only got worse after the incident." You stated

"Where Five ran away into the future and brought you with him?" Reginald suggested

Your eyes went wide as you whipped around to face him, the angry fire within you building as you demanded,

"How do you know about that?"

Reginald looked at you calmly and said,

"He told me when I pulled him away to chat."

You stopped for a second as you processed his words. You didn't expect Five to tell him about that but perhaps he felt open enough to do so. You thought about that day, the one where everything changed, and everyone was put into a more difficult situation than before. Your anger started to fade as you thought about your darker days post jump and the horrors Five had dealt with. Letting out a breath you started to calm down and looking towards the ground you quietly explained,

"Well, yes that was the incident. He got stuck in a wasteland, I was dropped into 2013 where everything that I knew was gone, and the rest of your children had to deal with the fallout of Five's rash decision."

"Unfortunate." Reginald curtly commented

You looked up towards him and looked back towards you. You could see some type of shift in his demeanor before he continued,

"He also mentioned that he spent 45 years in said apocalypse and is most likely older than I am now. Was that in jest? Because it didn't come off that way. And if so I don't know how comfortable I am with you dating someone almost 3 times your age even if he is both my son and the most competent boy I've met so far."

Oh god, not this again. He was acting as a parent. As your father. Disgusting. Your anger and sadness completely faded away and your witty and sarcastic demeanor returned in full swing.

"That's too bad buckaroo." You responded "He looks my age and that's what people are going to notice. Also, he's my best friend, you don't get a say in my dating life, I do what I want."

"Ugh, insolent child. Whatever will I do with you?" Reginald asked rhetorically as he shook his head in disappointment

"Not sure, but something is comforting about you sounding just like the Reggie from the future Umbrella Academy. But let me be honest here, Umbrella Academy is kind of a stupid name. I mean it's on-point branding given your business but it doesn't inspire anything." You explained in a joking yet critical tone

Reginald sat back in his chair as he listened to you rant and criticize the academy he had created. Picking up his pen he began to jot down notes about the criticisms you were giving.

"And don't get me started on that dumb motto. Ut Malum Pluvia." you rant "When evil reigns? I mean I appreciate a good play on words and I can commend you for that but it's so...depressing. You expected your children to save the world with such a hope-crushing motto sewn on their uniform?"

"Well then what would you do?" Reginald asked looking up from his writing

"If I was the parent of seven super-powered children and created an academy with the purpose of saving the world I'd probably take some influence from my mom because she was so bright and hopeful for me before the incident happened and that hope she instilled in me kept me going after."

"So what would you call your academy then?"

You thought for a moment about your mother. The one who unexpectedly gave birth to you and yet called you her own the minute you were born. The one who gave everything to make sure you had the best life. The one who raised you to be the best you could be. The same one who loved and protected you, and whose memory helped to keep you going after you had both disappeared in your own ways. You faded into your thoughts as you recalled the many experiences you shared with her and settled on the one that stood out most.

"The Sparrow Academy." you answered genuinely "My mother used to take me out on summer nights and early mornings before the sun came up to hear the sparrows sing. They were her favorite bird and she always told me that a sparrow's song in the dark leads to a brighter future."

"Canticum in Tenebris." Reginald spoke

"Yes, a song in the dark. Every little bit would all be influenced by her. I have loved many people in my life but if I had to be a part of some academy of children, I'd do it if it was in memory of her."

Reginald finished penning down all that you had said to him and looked up towards you once more. Looking back you broke the silence and asked,

"Do you have any more questions?"

"No."

"Well if we're done here I will be heading to my room because, in all honesty, you terrify Charlie and the longer I stay here the more he'll probably assume I'm dead."

Walking towards the door of the office you hear Reginald's voice from behind you,

"Goodnight, (Y/N)."

"Goodbye, Reginald."

As you walk out and close the door to the office you make your way back to the foyer so that you could head upstairs to your room. As you do so you see Grace standing in the foyer looking at some piece of paper. When she looks up and sees you she folds the paper up and places it in the pocket of her cardigan.

"Hey, sweetie," She greets

"Oh hey, mom," you respond

"I saw you came from the direction of Reggie's office. Is everything alright?" She asks

"Oh yeah, we were just discussing my new car." You lied

Your mom didn't seem to pick up on your lie though. Instead, she looked around the foyer before taking a step closer to you.

"Well, that's nice." She said "You know what I was thinking? How about you and I pack up all our stuff and take a long trip?"

You were confused as to why she was speaking in a lower tone of voice. It was as if she was trying to hide something or keep others from listening. You lowered your voice a bit as well but tried to act as if everything was normal.

"That sounds fun. Is Reggie coming?" You inquired

"I have to talk with him about his work and then we'll see if he comes along." She answers

"Oh. Alright." You said

Your mom took another step towards you and leaned in closer, cupping your face in her hands. There was a smile on her face as she held you but the emotion in her eyes was less so of happiness and more so of concern. Looking you directly in the eyes your mom quietly states,

"Great, now you go pack everything. Okay?"

Her tone of voice was less like a suggestion and more like a command. And the way she emphasized the word everything took you back a little bit and sent a small chill down your spine. You looked at your mom for answers but she said nothing more.

"Uh." you paused before hesitantly continuing "Okay mom."

Your mom let go of your face and pulled you into a tight hug. Without another word, she walked off towards the living room and you headed up to your room. Opening the door you see Charlie sitting on your bed vigorously bouncing his leg, his hands clasped together so tightly that his knuckles were turning extremely white. When he heard the door open his head shot up to look at you and he sprang off the bed. You entered the room and closed the door behind you before turning back to your friend.

"Are you okay?" He questioned concerned

"I'm fine. Although I did just have a very odd conversation with my mom."

"What happened?"

"I'm honestly not sure. She seemed slightly paranoid and told me to pack up all my stuff. It's not like her." You explained as you paced about your room

"Is she trying to make a run for it with you?" Charlie asked

"Maybe? I don't know." you answered "Although I don't even know what would have her so worried that she wants us to run away, especially since she was completely fine this morning."

"That's very odd." Charlie comments "So what happened with Sir Reginald?"

"Quite a bit. Why don't you take a seat." You suggested

Charlie sat down on the foot of your bed as you paced in front of him recounting as best as you could what had happened in your meeting with Reginald. As you started to detail the events, Five had finally finished his journey to get to you. It took a bit given the fact that where you were and where the handler was were practically on the opposite side of town. The hotel the handler was staying in was nice enough but it still was on the lesser side of Dallas, while you were living in the more affluent area. Five had to navigate his way across town but at least he knew exactly where you were. When he had found the invitation to the Mexican Consulate the address listed on the envelope was not that of 82 Olive Street where the D.S. Umbrella Manufacturing Company was located so he assumed it was sent to the house in which you lived. Carefully, he made his way up the driveway making sure to not be seen by anyone. As he did so he saw Charlie's convertible parked out front confirming that you were here. Making his way around the back he stood in the cover of the trees as he looked through the windows to see if he could find you. On the backside of the house, he could see you in what he assumed to be your room pacing about the place. He needed to get your attention but didn't want to accidentally startle you and alert his presence to the whole mansion and he didn't even know if you were alone in the room as well. Looking around for something he saw some pebbles on the ground. Picking one up he threw it at your balcony door.

From inside, you and Charlie stopped talking and both turned your heads toward the balcony as you heard a small sound of something outside.

"What was that?" You asked

"I don't know." He responded

The two of you stayed quiet as you waited for anything else to happen. After a few moments, the sound of a small ping on the glass of your balcony door could be heard. Charlie stood up from the bed and two of you looked at each other for a second. Slowly, you both approach the balcony doors and as you did another ding could be heard. Looking down onto the balcony you saw a few small rocks scattered.

"Someone is throwing rocks at your window," Charlie said

"Well, as long as it's not Hoyt's son Halvor outside I think it'll be okay." You commented

"I now hope it's Halvor." Charlie replies "I want a Romeo and Juliet scenario but you outright insult him instead."

You rolled your eyes at Charlie as you carefully opened the doors to the balcony and stepped onto it to look down at the ground below. Fortunately, it was not Halvor and instead was your beloved Five. Turning to look back at Charlie you stated,

"It's Five, Charlie."

"Aw man," Charlie says disappointed "It's just regular Romeo and Juliet for me I guess..."

"You're a dork." You replied

"Hey!" He exclaimed

You ignored him though and turned to look back at Five who looked up at you with a smile on his face.

"What are you doing here?" You asked in a hushed tone

"I have a plan to get us out of here." He replies mimicking your tone as he holds up a briefcase

You take a look around outside to check that no one is around before waving your boyfriend up to you and whispering,

"Come up here."

Five nods his head and spatial jumps up to the balcony and steps into your room. You close the door to the balcony behind him and close the drapes so no one can see into your room from the outside anymore. Looking at Charlie you command,

"Lock the door."

Charlie gives a quick nod and heads over to the door as you turn your attention back to Five.

"You got a briefcase to bring us back to 2019?" You question

"Well, it's a bit more complicated than that..." Five replies "Like I said I went and made a plan with the devil and I got this briefcase but it's programmed to bring me to a certain time and place and then back to Dallas."

"Why is it programmed like that?" Charlie questions as he approaches the two of you

"I have to go and kill the board of directors for the commission and she said she'll give me a briefcase to take us back to 2019 with everything as it should be and no apocalypses in any timeline." Five explains

"I have no clue what any of that means," Charlie replies

"It's alright, Charlie." You comfort before turning back to Five "Are you sure you can trust her on this?"

"I'm not sure but it's the only option we have to get out of here."

"Alright. I'm coming with you then."

"What do you mean?" Five questions

"I don't trust this woman one bit so there's no way I'm letting you do this alone." You explain before turning to Charlie "Charlie, I never knew when this would happen but it's time."

"Oh shit," Charlie exclaims

"Time for what?" Five questions

"THE plan." You say as you head over to your closet

Crouching down you push some boxes to the side before using one of your knives to unscrew the vent in the back. Reaching in you pull out a box before resetting everything to look normal. Grabbing the box you stand up and bring it over to your vanity table. Five and Charlie both make their way over to you and you start to explain the plan.

"Charlie and I came up with this plan a while ago in case I ever needed to sneak out unexpectedly. I knew you would come back so we set this all up in advance if I ever needed to leave to do something like this with you." You detail as you start to take stuff out of the box "I have a note that I'm going to put on the door that says I went to bed early and not to disturb me. The door will stay locked so no one can come in and if someone tries Charlie has time to prepare a story."

As you unpack some more items you quiz Charlie a bit about the plan. It had been about a year and a half since you came up with this thing so you wanted to make sure he still knew what to do.

"Typically the latest I get out of bed is 11 am so if I'm not back by then what should you do?"

"Take the note out of the box that says you left early to on a walk down the road and take my car saying I'm heading to find you. Then I'll drive off to town for the day and wait near a central location for you to come back." Charlie replies

"Correct." you state before adding "If anything else happens you have all the contingency plan materials in the box."

You take the note about going to bed early along with a piece of tape and unlock your door, hanging it up on the outside. Closing the door again you lock it and turn back to the boys. Five looks on with pride at you. You were so smart and always so prepared, but more so you were so sure of yourself that he would return for you that you had put plans in place to be able to leave on a moment's notice. You amazed him more each and every day and reminded him why he had done all the things he did and all the things he was doing now. Finished up with the box you turn to Charlie and state,

"Charlie I believe in you."

Charlie nods his head before wrapping you in a hug and replying,

"Come back soon."

"I will."

Stepping out of the hug, you turn to Five and extend your hand out towards him.

"Ready to follow me?" Five questions

"Always," you answer

With that Five takes your hand and in a flash of blue energy, the two of you travel away out of your room and through time to where you needed to go. When the energy flashed again you were in a completely different place. Steadying yourself you took a few deep breaths. Compared to the last time you time traveled the molecular disturbance didn't hurt as much. Maybe you were getting better at redistributing them. Even though you felt alright Five looked at you with concern. He held your hand a bit tighter and you could see the worried look in his eyes.

"Are you okay?" He questioned

"I'm alright darling. I'm getting better at managing molecular disturbances...I think." you explain

"That response does not fully fill me with confidence."

"That's too bad, we have a job to do." you remind

Five rolled his eyes at you. He didn't understand how could you just wave off the disturbance you felt like it was nothing, but you made a good point. You had a job to do and the quicker it was over with the better. Five pulled the note out of his pocket that had the place of where the board meeting was happening listed. Looking up at the building in front of the two of you, he confirmed that it was the place. Putting the note back in his pocket he took the briefcase and stashed it behind a large shrub on the backside of the building. With all of that done the two of you made your way to the front of the building. You looked around and saw many people in traditional clothing and the sound of polka music echoed from the building. Five grabbed the door and held it open for you to walk in with him following after. The two of you looked around the place checking to see if anyone out of the ordinary, commission-looking types, were around. You didn't see anything odd, except for the overwhelming amount of polka dancers inside the lodge. You follow Five as he walks over to a woman and says,

"Excuse me."

The woman turns to look at him and replies,

"Uff da. You snuck up on me there. If you're looking for the cookies, we don't put 'em out till 3:00."

"Ooh cookies," you exclaim

No. Wait. You had to focus on the task at hand. No cookies.

"We can hardly wait." Five comments "Uh, do you happen to know where the Midwest Soybean Society is meeting?

"Sure do. Muskellunge Banquet Room. You looking for your parents? They in for the convention?" The woman responds politely

Instead of answering her questions, Five looks off in the distance. You couldn't quite tell what he was looking at but the woman looked at the two of you for a response.

"Yes, our parents are prominent members of the society." you confidently lied

Five looked back towards the woman and held out a dollar before asking curiously,

"Hey, could I get some change?"

"Oh, sure, I'll just look in my purse." She says as she opens a fanny pack "Only a nickel and a couple of dimes. Oh! You... are...in... luck, mister."

The woman hands a few quarters to Five and he takes them in his hand. He looks off to the side as if he was deep in thought and says,

"You know some say the best luck is to die at the right time."

Five then walks off towards where the banquet room was as you and the woman both look on confused. The woman looks back to you and you shoot an apologetic look.

"Um...my boyfriend recently started taking a philosophy course at school. I'm trying to work with him on when it's appropriate to bring up philosophical statements."

The woman silently looks back at you confused and you walk away from her and follow your boyfriend. You can tell there's a shift in his body language as he walks towards the vending machine. He stood up straighter and his movements were stiff. He looked around before starting to place to coins he received in the vending machine. As he did so you approached him and stood by his side. You could see an angry and frustrated look on his face. You watched as he typed in the letter and number combo necessary to get a fudge Nutter Bar.

He loved those immensely. You were the one who introduced those to him when you got a bunch trick-or-treating on Halloween years ago. You knew he and his siblings wouldn't be able to go so you stole a bunch of candy to give to them and jumped over to their house later at night to distribute the sweets. You had given Five a Fudge Nutter bar to try first from the bag of candy and he became obsessed. He took the rest of them before his siblings even got a chance to try but you thought it was cute.

Coming out of your thoughts you notice your boyfriend getting frustrated at the machine. His eyebrows start to furrow and he tenses up more as he aggressively presses the buttons. He then tries to reach his hand through the vending machine door to try and get the bar he paid for out.

"Five what if I-" You start to say

You wanted to suggest using your powers but before you could fully get your words out your Five started to vigorously shake the machine.

"Come on!" He angrily exclaimed

"Uh- Five?" You try again

It is to no avail though as he steps back and starts to bang into the machine with his shoulder in his attempt to free his bar before shaking the machine again but harder. You knew your boyfriend was under an immense amount of stress given back-to-back apocalypses in about a two-week time frame and this stubborn Fudge Nutter was probably his breaking point. Now you knew you could step in and probably ease his tension with some love and compassion but you also had a weird curiosity to see what would happen. As he continued to shake the vending machine Five yelled,

"Stupid mother Fudge Nutter! Fuckin' Fudge Nutter!"

And taking a step back he kicked in the glass on the machine. Realizing what he did Five stopped and scratched the back of his neck. Taking a deep breath he turned towards the doorway which led to the banquet hall the board of directors was meeting in. Walking that way he dragged a finger across the side of a cake resting on a nearby table picking up some icing. You followed behind pulling out a knife and holding it in your hand preparing to fight. Five licked the icing off his finger before looking around and seeing an ax on the wall he grabs it and readjusts it in his hands. You could tell from the everything that he was displaying a high amount of frustration and although given the context it was an understandable expression of his feelings you knew it could lead to are more arduous killing process. You noticed as he started to prep himself to walk in the doorway that lead towards the hall but before he could step through you teleported yourself in front of him. Before he could react you grabbed his face tightly with your free hand pulled him into a forceful kiss. Pulling back and letting go of his face you watched as he blinked a few times in surprise.

"Oh- wow." He commented, "I was not against that in the slightest but um is there a reason?"

You twiddle with your knife as you reply,

"I thought that would be the best way to steady you. From my own experience kills are quicker and more effective if you have a steady balance between your erraticism and logic."

Although he kept a calm exterior, Five was screaming on the inside. His heart racing as if he had just run a marathon. Everything in his logic screamed that this was not the time to be feeling like this. The board that needed to be killed was just around the corner and the time was counting down to another apocalypse. And yet, every other part of said this was the time and screamed for more. Five collected himself and removed one of his hands from the ax to readjust his tie and jacket. Although alarm bells were still going off in his head a smirk appeared on his face as he suggested,

"Well, then I'll have to come to you for steadiness more often then."

Catching his drift, you take a step closer to him and use your free hand to grab him by his tie and pull him closer to you. A playful smirk resembling his own appears on your face as you whisper to him,

"Well how about this, the sooner we get this done and return to 2019 the sooner I'll provide you with some more...steadiness."

Everything screamed louder as a fire built within him. He was going to kill this board as if his life depended on it.

"I like that plan."

You let go of his tie and take a step out of the way of him. He raises his ax back up and prepares himself as you state,

"After you then mon chéri."

A wide smile appears on Five's face and there's a determination in his eyes as he walks through the doors and marches down towards the room that held the board of directors. You turned yourself invisible and followed after him. As Five steps through the door to the room, he can see AJ turn to look at him. There was something about seeing the people whom he both had worked with as a murderous pawn but also was left alone in the apocalypse for decades by that sent him into a rage.

"You!" AJ exclaims "Call security!"

A woman pushes her chair away from the table and towards a phone on a nearby desk. Five quickly takes a swing at her cutting her arm off. While still invisible you decided to turn her brain matter into liquid better her die quickly than slowly bleed out with a chance of survival. From the opposite side of the table, you see a man start to stand up to head towards Five but before he does so you throw your knives at him and land one through his eye socket into his brain and the other in his heart. Transporting yourself over to him you twist both knives in a circular motion ensuring lasting damage and no chance of survival. Revealing yourself you pull both knives out causing blood to splatter on your face and clothing. The board looks at you in shock and you turn to Five with a sadistic smile on your face and ask,

"What? You thought you could have all the fun without me?"

"Never, darling." Five replies, a twisted smile appearing on his own face

The two of you turn to look at the living members of the board for a moment but within seconds start jumping around the room taking board members out. Blood and carnage covered yourselves and the room as corpses were littered around the place. With the rest of the members taken out, you went to stand behind AJ while Five stood on the table in front of him. As you looked up at Five, ax in hand, and covered in blood, with a chaotic fire in his eyes you could not help how attracted you were to him at this moment. As Five towered over him, AJ questioned,

"She sent you, didn't she?"

"Does it really matter now?" Five replied

"Whatever she offered you, I will double it, triple it," AJ begged

"I'm not doing this for money." Five exclaimed as he lifted the ax to swing at AJ

Before the ax could connect with the fish tank of a head AJ had the lady from earlier tackled Five to the ground.

"Get off me!" Five yelled

"You're gonna pay for that vending machine, little mister." The lady said as she grappled with him

With the sudden action, you were pulled out of your thoughts and say AJ start to run away but also Five on the ground. As much as you wanted to help your boyfriend you knew getting AJ was better and ran after him. Having him in your sights you used your powers to make his legs denser, slowing him down followed by throwing knives into his thigh and shoulder.

Back on the board room Five continued to grapple with the lady.

"I don't wanna hurt you, all right?" Five tried to explain

The lady punches him in the face before angrily replying,

"Hurt me? Oh, I ain't afraid of you, you little pus ball."

Five was tired of dealing with the woman though and punched her back knocking her out cold. Getting up he takes a look around the room and sees that neither you nor AJ was in the room.

"Shit." He says aloud

Grabbing a rugby-looking paddle off the wall he flashed out of the room and flashes in front of AJ. As he does, he notices how slowly AJ is moving, as if his legs were made of concrete. Looking up he sees you leaning against a nearby wall nonchalantly eating a piece of cake. Looking over to him you say,

"Oh, hey babe. I saved him for ya."

You had never called him babe before and it was not helping him deal with the intense feeling of screaming going on within him and yet it also did. With that one word, he could feel a rush of adrenaline coursing through his veins. He felt...powerful. Cocking his head to the side he looked at AJ maniacally as he held the paddle in his hand.

"Surely we can come to some form of agreement that benefits both parties. Quid pro quo? What do you say?" AJ suggested

"Why not? Here's your quid." Five says hitting him in the side

"Here's your pro." Five adds catching him with the paddle in the knee

"No! No! Please don't!" 

"Here's your quo." Five stated firmly

Swinging hard he smashes the glass head that contained AJ in it leaving water and glass everywhere. Five takes a few deep breaths as he stares at the flopping fish on the floor. As he does so you see two girls in polka dresses walk out and see the scene before turning back into the dance hall. Placing your slice of cake down you summon all your knives back before heading over to Five and placing a hand on his arm grabbing his attention.

"We need to get out of here."

Five looks around at the scene and grabs a nearby plastic bag before picking AJ up off the ground and placing him in it. Five looks back to you and states,

"We need water."

You look at the air within the bag Five was holding and in a matter of seconds, you converted a portion of it into water. Five knew that was something you could do and it was something you had been able to do for a long time nevertheless, it still amazed him. Holding the bag with AJ in one hand he took yours in the other and held it tightly. Five spatial jumped the two of you out of the building and towards the shrub he had stashed the pre-programmed briefcase in. Handing AJ to you, he grabbed the briefcase and set it up so that you could get back to 1963 Dallas. Taking your hand once more you could feel the briefcase start to disturb the energy around you and with one more flash the two of you were back in the alleyway in Dallas covered in blood. The two of you looked around and everything seemed to be the right time and place. As you stood there in the alleyway the briefcase started to make noise and you could feel its molecules moving faster signifying that it was heating up. Grabbing it out of Five's hand you threw it on the other side of the alley and watch as seconds later it blew up. 

"What the fuck." You exclaimed

"Programmed to self-destruct after its purpose was done...clever." Five commented

You turn towards your boyfriend who seemed to be utterly unphased by the whole thing and say,

"I hate your former employer. I hope I never have to interact with them."

"Well, I don't want you to and because of that, I need you to go inside. She could be here any minute and I don't know what she could pull nor do I want you around her." Five explains "Also, it would make me feel better if you were inside. Okay?"

You nod your head at him and quickly make your way inside the back door to the building but don't head up the stairs to Elliott's apartment. Instead, you stay close to the door to be able to get to Five quickly incase he needed you.  Five crossed his arms as he turned away from the door and soon enough he heard the recognizable sound of heels clicking towards him.

"Well?" The voice asked

Five held to bag for her to take from him without looking back at her.

"AJ!" The handler exclaimed taking the bag

Five turned around and looked at her with an emotionless expression. 

"You know, you're really starting to fill out those tight little shorts of yours." The handler commented, "I'm sure your girlfriend is happy."

Five was always so disgusted when she talked about you. He could deal with comments made towards him, they meant nothing to him, but comments about you filled him with repulsion and rage. He kept quiet as he narrowed his eyes at her.

"Why so quiet? Thought you'd be buzzing after this morning's slaughter." She questions

Five looked off for a second. This killing, he didn't do it just because, he did it because he wanted to protect his family, you, and the world you all existed in.

"All this killing..." Five pauses "I'm done with it."

"What?" The handler questions "Am I supposed to take that seriously?"

"What I did today, I did for the people I love. I did it to save the world." Five elaborates emotionally

"Please. Spare me your little assassin with the heart of gold routine, will you?" The handler replies before picking up a briefcase from the ground "Here. Per our agreement, this will get you and your siblings back to 2019."

Five takes the briefcase from her and as he does she adds,

"You have 90 minutes."

Panic rushes through Five and as the handler starts to walk away he yells,

"You said nothing about a time limit."

"Actually, you have 89 minutes and 30 seconds. Better hurry."

"This is impossible, okay? My siblings are scattered across the city." Five exclaims as he approaches her

"Nothing's impossible. You proved that this morning when you killed the board."

"I need more time."

"Any more time, and people will start asking questions. The sooner you get home and out of this time period, the better off we'll both be, so, ticktock, ticktock." The handler finishes

Angrily, Five spatial jumps away from the handler and into the back staircase where you were. You look at him and see something is wrong but before you can say anything he grabs your wrist and spatial jumps the two of you up to the apartment. As the two of you arrive you see from the balcony three words written on the floor in blood. Öga För Öga. Eye for an eye? Before you can process that whole mess you hear Diego threaten from the kitchen,

"You killed one of ours, Olga, now we're coming after you. You will be dead by nightfall."

Five and you head towards the kitchen and see Diego on the phone with Luther nearby. As Five takes off his jacket and vest he explains,

"Hey. It's Öga För Öga, idiots. Swedish for an eye for an eye. It means the Swedes killed Elliott."

"Wrong number. Have a lovely day." Diego says in a chipper tone before hanging up the phone

Your eyes go wide as the situation before you triggers a strong feeling of deja vu within you, almost instantaneously followed by a strong visceral memory of your friends comes to mind. Quietly you whispered to yourself,

"Du sang pour du sang."

Five turns to look at you and asks,

"Why did you say blood for blood in french?"

"I'd love to explain but we do NOT have the time for it right now," you state

"Uh, you guys have some blood on you. A lot of blood, actually. What did you do?" Luther questions

Instead of looking to Five for answers, Diego comes over to you and starts looking you over for injuries.

"Are you okay? This is a lot of blood." He asks concerned

"I've said this many times before in my life but it's not my blood and that's all that matters." You respond to him

He looks at you confused as you walk away towards Five in the bathroom. Using your powers you specifically remove the molecules of blood on both of your clothes and skin before placing them all in the sink and washing them down. As both of you fix yourself up in the bathroom Five starts to explain, 

"So I found a way home."

"What? How?" Luther questions

"All the details are irrelevant, but...I made a deal to get back to our timeline."

"What about doomsday?" Diego asks

"Won't happen."

"And the 2019 apocalypse?" Luther inquires

Five was getting frustrated with his siblings. Their questions pestered him, especially because he killed a bunch of people for the opportunity to get everyone home safely and their time was running out fast.

"Everything will be back to normal. All right? Now, no more questions. We gotta go. We have to find the others, alright?"

Five walks out of the bathroom with you following behind him. 

"Yeah," Luther says

"Luther, you get Allison. Diego, Klaus. (Y/N) and I will get Vanya. Now, we meet back in the arrival alley in 77 minutes." Five details before heading over to a table and saying "Here. I've synchronized these watches."

Picking the watches up from the table he pockets one before handing the other two to each of his brothers.

"Okay, let's do this." Luther states

With Luther's confirmation, Five turns away from them and grabs your hand about to flash the two of you away but is halted when Diego questions,

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold on. You show up with my sister completely drenched in blood and expect us to believe everything's gonna go back to normal if we go home now?"

You nodded your head a little bit at Diego's statement. If the handler had already tricked Five with a briefcase that has a 20-minute timer how could you know that this wasn't a trick again.

"Elliott just got killed because of us." Five exclaims gesturing to the body hidden underneath a sheet

You nodded your head once more because that was also a good point but you still did agree with what Diego had said.

"What about Dad? What about JFK?" Diego questions

Nevermind.

"Diego, we have a chance to go home and make things right. We are taking it." Five demands

This was wasting time, precious time that could be used to get back to their lives but also save the world.

"I have to say goodbye to Lila." Diego states

"Lila doesn't give a shit about you, Diego! She never did. She's one of them. She's a member of the Commission!" Five yells

"No way. Not possible."

Now you were starting to get frustrated with Diego. How could Diego be so stupid, so blinded by her? If she worked for the commission then she did not matter. She was bad from the start and deserved no sympathy for using your brother in the way she did. 

"She was just using you to get to me. You're the Oswald of this story, my friend. The goddamned patsy." Five frustratedly explains

"You don't know what you're talk-"  Diego to starts to retort

Five spatial jumps over to right in front of Diego and firmly states to him,

"If you don't do this, I'll kill you myself. Got it?"

"No. I don't take orders from you." Diego states back

That was it. You were done with the back and forth of bullshit as it was taking away time from the opportunity to get home. Pulling one of your knives out you quickly approached Diego and held it at him accusingly.

"Diego Hargreeves, this might be our only chance to get out of this god damn timeline and back home. And as your little sister if you care for my well-being as much as you say you do then you will not seek out this walking bag of lies and will go and get Klaus so we can all go home." You demand before exclaiming angrily "If you don't...I swear on our mother that I will take every one of your knives and will use them to dissect you limb by limb and organ by organ before using my powers to blow EACH ONE UP INDIVIDUALLY!"

The three boys looked on at you in horror. 

"Holy shit..." Luther quietly commented

"Do I make myself clear?" You ask

Diego quickly nodded his head and you pulled the knife away from them and back in its holding place on you. Turning around you walk away from him and extend your hand out to Five. Five takes it and the two of you flash away to outside the building. Looking around you and Five find a car that had the keys just placed on the driver's seat. Sharing a knowing look the two of you use your powers to get into the car before putting the keys in and speeding off to get Vanya. As you travel on the dirt roads leading to the farm Vanya was living on you started to head around a curve. As you did so you and Five looked over and saw Vanya in the car passing by. Vanya stopped her car as Five stopped yours. You both quickly rush out of the car and over towards Vanya who had gotten out of hers.

"What are you doing here?" Vanya questioned confused

"Looking for you. We're going back to 2019." Five states quickly

"What are you talking about?" Vanya asks 

Five pulls the watch out of his pocket and looks at the seconds counting down before replying,

"Look, I don't really have time to explain right now, but I found a way home. All right? We have 30 minutes to leave."

Five starts to walk away thinking Vanya would follow but instead she exclaims,

"What about my friends? I can't just leave them here."

"Vanya, you don't have a choice in this, all right? Doomsday will happen if you don't come with me." Five explains turning around to face her again

"Okay, then I'm bringing them with me." Vanya states

"They belong in this timeline." Five replies

"Says who? Sissy deserves a life where she doesn't have to pretend to be someone she's not. And Harlan There's a name for what he has. We can get him the help he needs." Vanya yells angrily

"Vanya." You called softly, trying to ease the tension

For a second, your calmness seems to work as Vanya adds,

"Look, a mom and her eight-year-old son are not gonna screw up the timeline, Five. They're insignificant."

Five looks on at Vanya and you can see behind the frustration and panic there was sadness in his eyes. He doesn't want to argue with his sibling and he never would purposely try to hurt his sibling in the way Vanya might be feeling, but they were running out of time to get home and if they didn't the whole world could end. Even in his panic, Five attempted to speak more calmly,

"No one is insignificant. I'm sorry, all right? But we can't take that risk. They have to stay. Come on."

"Why do you get to decide? You're the reason we're stuck here in the first place." Vanya rebukes, her anger returning

"If I did nothing, we would all be dead right now, thanks to you!" Five yells back

"They're coming with me." Vanya demands

Five could not deal with this stubbornness anymore. It was the same stubbornness that caused the last apocalypse because Vanya refused to see other people's perspectives and played the victim card time and time again. He loved his sister, that much was true, but he was not going to deal with another apocalypse just because Vanya wanted to bring some people she had known for a month along. Taking a step forward towards her Five stands his ground and firmly commands,

"Vanya, do not test me right now."

Vanya takes a step towards him in the same manner and in a low voice replies back,

"That's funny. 'Cause I was just about to say the same thing."

You can see the anger build between them but you can feel their power build as well. The disturbance they created crashed over you like a powerful wave during a storm. You tried to do what you always did to help ease the disturbance by breathing it in and then pushing it out. But this was different. Some time travel or explosions didn't do as much harm as they used to but Vanya's powers were like Kryptonite. And with the addition of Five revving up his powers, it was a bit more than you had been exposed to in a while. For a second you were able to manage pretty well but as they grew stronger it got harder to breathe. It was as if your throat was closing up on you and without being able to breathe the feeling of the disturbance got worse. You dropped to your knees as you gasped for air and when Five heard you struggling he immediately stopped his battle with Vanya to rush over to you. Helping you to stand, you took in deep breaths of air, and as Vanya powered down you started to feel better.

"I'm so sorry. Are you okay?" Five apologized as he pulled you into a hug

"I'm fine," you reply between breaths and you hold him back

From behind the two of you, you can hear Vanya say,

"Fine."

"Fine, what?" Five asks

Five pulls out of the hug to look at Vanya but keeps one of his arms tightly around you worried that if he lets go you'll collapse again.

"I'll be there, but I need to say goodbye first." Vanya answers

"Oh, Vanya, we don't have the time." Five explains

"Well, it's either that, or I'm not coming." Vanya states

Five looks towards you. There was no use fighting with Vanya on this and honestly, if he was in her place he'd want to say goodbye too. He never got the chance to say goodbye when he left. Looking back towards Vanya he nods his head and commands,

"The alley. 27 minutes. Don't be late."

With that Vanya goes and gets in her car while you and Five get in yours. Not letting go of you, Five walks you. to the car and helps you in it even as you protested saying you were feeling better. Turning the car back on Five whips it around and heads back towards the alley. When the two of you arrive you park the car and immediately jump out rushing towards the alley. As you arrive Five quickly opens up a dumpster and pulls out the briefcase he stashed there. Running from out of the apartment you see Luther approach you two and questions upset,

"Hey. Where is everyone?"

"You're the first." Five replies to him

"What?" Luther exclaims

"Yeah." You reply

As the three of you stare down the alleyway you can see Klaus approaching, which was surprising in and of itself but what was more surprising to you was that Ben was standing within him. As Klaus' body approached it exclaims,

"Hey! Hey! We made it!"

"What do you mean, we?" Five asks

The three of you then watch as Klaus contorts his body in odd ways and while Five and Luther were generally confined you were trying to process all that you were seeing. What looked like odd contortions to the other two was really Klaus trying to push Ben out of his body. Was Klaus possessed? You then watched as Klaus projectile vomited an extreme amount on the ground and along with it was Ben, who was now also covered in vomit. How did that work being a ghost? You didn't know and it wasn't important enough to ask at this moment. Klaus collapses to the ground and you look directly at Ben to say,

"I don't know what you did to cause that to happen, but it was gross as hell."

Luther, unknowing of Ben being there looks at Klaus. How is it that out of all his siblings Klaus was the one to arrive on time. An anger wells in him as he shouts,

"I can't believe it. I mean, you're here."

"We've got eight minutes left." Five states panicked as he looks at the watch

"I just had the strangest dream," Klaus mumbles from the ground 

"Where are the others!" Five exclaims as he continues to look down the alley

You continue to wait there and minute after minute the time ticks down until there were only sixty seconds left.

"We've got a minute left!" Luther yells angrily as he slams his hand down on the dumpster denting it

"What's going on, guys? Are we going somewhere?" Klaus asks from the ground

You watch as your boyfriend paces back and forth angrily ranting,

"It was a simple task. It was a simple task! All we had to do was be here. Didn't have to fight a giant sea monster, no. An army of mutants? Nein."

"I can't believe this." Luther comments

"It was handed to us on a silver platter." Five continues

This was bad. Allison, Diego, and Vanya had yet to show up and you couldn't leave with only five of you here. You shook your head as disappointment and anger flooded over you. This family would be the death of you.

"Could you just moan a little softer? My head is killing me." Klaus complains as he starts to sit up

"Listen to me, you useless puke bag, we just blew our chance to save the world!" Five yells

As he finishes saying that you can hear a sound coming from the briefcase but can also feel it as well. Five's head whips over to it and sees that the briefcase was about to go. 

"God damn it." Five states

"Shit," Luther adds

Five had no choice but to get rid of the briefcase. Picking it up off the ground he throws it into the air and far from any of you. You all watch as it disappears in a flash of blue and your chance of getting home had been lost to time. Five shakes his head and turns away from the group heading back towards Elliott's apartment.

"We were that close. That close." He states

You stared up at the spot where the briefcase had flashed and as the residual feeling of the disturbance, it caused disappeared faded you wondered if your chances of ever getting home had too.

 ________________________________

Taglist: @xplrreylo @joebob15274 @insatiable-ivy @fruitsaladtree @angelpeachamber @academy-umbrella @lizziel1410 @ir3neeee @faith-quake @aliens-with-colas @sunsetcurve-1995 @lady-celeste25 @im-dead-and-hurting @nerdypinupcrystal @cherry-ki-d @anapocalypseinmymind @vicassa @2cuteforyourlies @taylorsmakingfuckingmacandcheese @n1ghtsh4d3-67 @cheshire-salvatore-mikaelson @shadowycreationcupcake @emily-hargreeves @metor-showers1994 @fivehargreevesforthewin @rinko-san @supernovavision @cicilisthebest @flickbix @hi-v-juice @magykal-777 @zosiaduda @thethirdwheelfriend @mysticracoon @isnt-it-loverly @officiallydarkgeek @lady1505 @always-the-very-worst @tinypandagirl @libidinexx @lemongrabbuns @itwasallred @deadandoverit @shlokage @keksi249 @theoriginalkat @we-stan-fiction @bi-idiot-fanfics @annnagennnie @izzyjojo4 @megasimpleplan4ever @flowertoty @grabthemoneyandletsgo @itsametaphorbriansblog @vanillacaramelhoney @satvaldiva @disaster-magician @margotsfandoms @emily-b-m @bluechildrenlickmytoes @soft-slytherin-sweetie @oceanspray5 @im-here-for-fanfics @thebloodrobin @freestarlight @starcurrent @lilacs-lavender @moatsnow @give-the-boy-a-hug @narikyuwu @whenyouregrungeaff

[auxiliarydetective]

Sentience

“I should have known.”

“Data, you couldn’t have known.”

“You were trapped inside a computer for months.”

“And that ended up saving the Enterprise”, Picard threw in, gently separating the two of them.

It was an awkward silence. Nobody seemed to know what to say. Wesley, Dr Crusher, Deanna, Worf and Commander Riker had formed a half circle which Geordi and Data now joined, leaving Tasha and Captain Picard in its middle. Finally, the captain found his words.

“I’m glad to have you back, Tasha”, he said softly, placing a hand on her shoulder.

She could tell he was being very careful, as if she was an illusion, as if any touch would make her disappear, as if she was so overly fragile. Again, silence ruled. This time, Wesley was the first to speak.

“Captain… What’s going to happen now? I mean… we can’t just leave her stuck like this, can we?”

“No”, Picard confirmed. “By all means, she’s just as sentient as Data is and so she should have the same privileges. The same privileges as anyone else on this ship. But we’ve also seen in the past that, should anyone outside this ship learn of Tasha’s sentience, they might try to declare her someone’s property and thereby strip her of her free will.”

“What?”, Tasha gasped.

Immediately, she looked Data straight in the eyes with concern, knowing that this had to be about him.

“Not too long after your… departure… I was put on trial regarding my sentience. Commander Maddox, a cyberneticist, wanted to dismantle and study me.”

Tasha noticed Commander Riker was shifting uncomfortably upon the mention of the incident, though she had no idea why.

“However, my sentience was proven”, Data continued, “by your memory, Tasha. A while later, I managed to create an offspring. A daughter whom I named Lal.” His voice started to shake lightly. The worry in Tasha’s eyes only increased, but it mixed with anger. She knew what to expect. “She was capable of feeling emotions, much like you. Vice Admiral Haftel wanted to separate us to study her, but her emotions caused her to experience a cascade failure. I had to deactivate her.”

“Data… I’m so sorry”, Tasha said quietly. But before she could say anything else, Data vehemently added:

“I will not let the same happen to you.”

“Of course not”, Picard said with a sure nod. “That’s why I am declaring your existence classified information, Tasha, for your own good. Until further notice, I can’t allow anyone outside the ship to know about you. I know it’s moving you from one prison to another, but I think you understand.”

“Fully, sir”, Tasha said, even if her face still showed traces of worry and anger. “I know I’d have more freedom confined to the ship than some laboratory.”

“Geordi”, Riker said, “you were able to take Tasha’s program out of the holodeck and connect her to the ship’s computer without damaging it, right?”

“I think so. There should be no issues at all. Tasha, do you feel different at all?”

“Slightly scattered”, Tasha replied. “I may be here right now physically, but I’m still connected to the computer. It’s like I can always hear it at the back of my head. Definitely something to get used to. But aside from that, nothing’s changed.”

That was a huge understatement. She was having severe difficulties keeping focus. The noise was so loud.

“Do you think you could do the same thing to give her a body that would let her leave the holodeck?”

“Well”, Geordi said slowly, “Maybe. It could get difficult. We already know building an android with a positronic brain wouldn’t work.” He threw a quick glance at Data as if trying to apologize. “In general, it’s practically impossible to turn the data of a hologram into android programming. The least we could do is build her a body and see if she can control it like the computer.”

“I don’t think that would be such a good idea”, Doctor Crusher commented. “Controlling a humanoid body would be a lot more complex than what she just did. We do so many things completely unconsciously all the time, like breathing, blinking, keeping our balance or our heartbeat. Every single one of those things would be something Tasha would have to control manually, or be distracted by if it was preinstalled.” She looked at Tasha knowingly. “Geordi, think about how you have to concentrate really hard and get headaches due to your visor. The same thing would be the case with Tasha, but for every single one of those unconscious actions.”

Tasha’s eyes had sunk to the floor. Deanna tried to catch them and it took her a long while to succeed. She wished she could establish some kind of connection to Tasha. It hurt a little to not be able to really feel her there. But for everyone else, she had to be just like before her death. Even to Deanna, she was at least as human as Data was. It felt weird to talk about her on such a technical level.

“We could attempt to create a mobile emitter that would allow Tasha’s program to run outside of the holodeck”, Data suggested. “It would be difficult, but feasible.”

Geordi stared blankly at him as if trying to say “Don’t make any false promises” but it was too late. Data seized Tasha’s hands.

“I will not stop now. You will be able to walk the Enterprise, as a human would. - Come on, Geordi.”

Geordi sighed quietly as Data was already through the exit and looked at Tasha apologetically. Then he jogged off.

“Don’t overwork yourselves!”, Tasha called after them.

She was already expecting them not to make it. What Data had suggested had to be virtually impossible. But he would keep trying indefinitely and that was what worried her.

“Are you worried they won’t find a way?”, Picard asked. It was almost scary how well he still knew her. “You’ve probably grown up with the principle that you can’t be disappointed if you have no expectations. But I, for one, hope to see you on the bridge soon, Lieutenant.”

With a fatherly smile, he nodded at her, then left, presumably for the bridge. Commander Riker patted Tasha’s shoulder - making her remember how tall he actually was - and followed. Dr Crusher and Wesley left as well. Tasha managed to muster a smile for Worf. One that was even genuine.

“Congratulations, Lieutenant”, she said and reached out with her hand. Worf took it. His grip was as strong as always. Tasha had missed it, she realized, and felt herself apply more strength to their handshake out of instinct.

“Thank you, Lieutenant”, Worf replied. “You were an excellent mentor. If you want to take your position back, it belongs to you.”

“No”, Tasha said promptly. “It’s yours, Worf. You’ve earned it. Even if I’ll be able to leave the holodeck, I won’t take something away that you deserve. Besides, if my existence is supposed to be a secret, I can’t have such an important role.”

Worf nodded and squeezed her hand before letting go. “I shall see you on the bridge, Lieutenant.”

Now, Deanna was the only one left. She stood there for a second. Her eyes gleamed like wet pearls.

“... Deanna?”

Suddenly, she ran at Tasha and fell into her arms, almost knocking her off her feet. But Tasha’s reflexes helped her regain her balance and she held her tight, a bright smile spreading across her face.

“I’ve missed you”, Deanna sobbed, tears of joy and sadness rolling down her face.

“I’ve missed you too”, Tasha said softly. She could feel her insides churning, but she bit her lip, trying not to cry.

They parted, but still held each other’s arms, looking each other straight in the eyes, seeing them closely again for the first time in years.

“Doesn’t it bother you at all that you can’t sense me anymore?”, Tasha asked, even if she could feel her voice shaking.

Deanna chuckled. “Only for a moment. But I’ve never been able to feel Data at any moment and it hasn’t had a single effect on our relationship. Besides, I think I know you well enough to be able to tell how you’re feeling without my empathic abilities, even if I may be out of practice. You’re trying so hard not to seem vulnerable right now, aren’t you?”

Tasha chuckled as way and averted her gaze, a single tear rolling down her face. Deanna was quick to wipe it away.

“I guess you’re right.”

“I can sense you’re struggling with yourself. You’re having an existential crisis.”

“I think I may need counseling.”

“What you need now is sleep, or at least some form of rest. This all has to be so hard on you. Overwhelming even. We’ll talk tomorrow, how does that sound? I’ll be at your quarters at 0900 hours?”

“That sounds great. Until then, I’ll try to figure out how to put myself on standby.”

“I’m sure you’ll have it figured out in no time.”

[xskyll]

The BNHA x Chobits AU that no one, not even Mineta, asked for.

The ramblings of my mind under the cut. Warning, it’s loooong.

Okay, so bear in mind that I only watched four episodes of Chobits and it was probably about 14 years ago, and also I didn’t really like it, lol

-Todoroki finds Midoriya laying on some bags of trash next to a dumpster.

-First he’s like “oh no, I need an adult,” because for all his “training,” dad never actually told him what to do when he found a dead body, (this is the summer before he starts U.A., so he’s still living at home). Endeavor is away for a week, and Fuyumi doesn’t count to him (sort of an Aristocats, “she’s not [an adult,] she’s just a sister!” thing). While he’s trying to remember that the police exist, he notices this dead body has very strange ear-like things. He comes closer to investigate. There are lots of weird body types in the world, because of quirks, but these things look metal, which isn’t unheard of, but something about these ears just strike him as unnatural.

- Good news, it seems like a robot, not a dead body. The ears open easily, and there are buttons inside. A power button (that’s right CHOBITS!! It’s in the ear! My love story isn’t going to start with molestation), some USB ports, an aux port, a slot for a microchip or SIM card or whatever, some sort of safety switch (he flips that on)…what really convinces him this is totally a robot are the blutooth and volume buttons (that’s right, Midoriya in this au can charge phones AND he’s a speaker, although the volume buttons’ primary function is to control the volume of his voice).

- He has no good reason for taking this thing home. It weights a ton, it’s awkwardly naked, except for some bandages wrapped around it, which do nothing to hide how anatomically correct this robot is, and he already has a phone charger, so he really has no use for it. 

- He feels weird about it though. While he was checking out the ears, he touched its face and the skin was soft and warm. He checked for a pulse, just out of curiosity, and found one. It looks like a person, aside from the ears, and it feels like a person. He feels bad leaving it in the trash. So he takes it home.

- Cue comedy routine where he gets this thing, not just in the house, but to his room without Fuyumi noticing.

- Once in his room, he hits the power switch. Nothing happens. He holds the power switch. Bingo. Robo-boy powers to life, bright, adorably large green eyes open. He’s holding it in his arms, and it’s still all tied up. It looks up at him and says hello.

- He drops it.

- He apologizes as he picks it back up, tugging at the wrappings to try to get its arms free. He realizes he needs to get pants, or at least boxers, for it, because it’s awake now and very much naked.

- For the very first time, he realizes that this adorable, thin-yet-lean-muscled, between 14-16 looking robo-boy might have been someone’s weird sex doll. They probably threw it away because they found a real person to date and they didn’t want them to know about their underage sex robot. This also sort of explains the pulse; the mystery pervert person probably programmed a fake pulse and did something to make his skin warm, to make him feel more real. Gross.

- He’s broken from these thoughts when the robot speaks. It says, “Please insert memory bank files or turn on base memory.” Todoroki is already freaking out, because this thing wants its memories, and he doesn’t have them. He opens the ear again and investigates. Next to the empty slot, there’s a small button labeled BM. Base memory? Sure, why not. He pushes it.

- The robot goes blank faced for a few seconds. When he comes to, he looks at Todoroki, then the room, then down at himself. He flexes his arms, trying to break the bands around him, but stops, saying, “Safety mode is on.”

- Todoroki finishes helping unwrap him, awkwardly doing so while pointedly looking away, once he gets to his lower half. Once he’s free, he goes and gets a pair of boxers and throws them in his direction. “Can you put them on?” He’s curious if the robot can do something like that unaided, and also he doesn’t want to cloth it himself, because even though this is a robot, it looks like a very cute boy his age. And it has a pulse. He can’t stop thinking about that.

- The robot puts on the boxers, after inspecting them for a second. He honestly does struggle to figure it out for a moment, cause he has zero common sense, but he does figure it out. It probably takes him about a minute. Once they’re on, he stands and starts inspecting the room.

- “Do you have a name?” seems like a dumb question, but he asks anyway and the robot answers, “I’m Project Midoriya.”

- Background info time. Midoriya is not fully a robot. He was kidnapped just seven months ago, coming home from school. It was the day of the sludge villain attack, but he got nabbed before they could cross paths. AFO wanted a quirkless person to experiment on. He did his research and found Midoriya Izuku, a quirkless boy with no friends and little family, who wouldn’t be missed very much. He’s confident enough that he won’t get caught that he titles his new project by its name: Midoriya. Midoriya’s memories are still in his mind, but they’re suppressed. AFO found it easier to backup his memories to a chip, so he could remove them as needed. When they were installed, Midoriya responded best to his own name anyway, so calling him that was also the easiest thing. Without his memories, AFO found him a bit annoying, because he had no social skills or common sense. He needed to be taught, which he didn’t have the patience for, so usually he just left the memories in. He was a timid boy anyway and easy to intimidate, especially if he threaten to hurt his mom.

- The cops figure his disappearance was maybe a runaway situation, but given his track record and the profile on him they’d compiled from listening to his mom, classmates, and teachers, they figure it’s more likely a kidnapping or murder. Fun fact though, he got kidnapped the day Bakugou told him to kill himself. Obviously no body is found, but he knows people go to forests to hang themselves, or put weights in their pockets and drown themselves. Those bodies can take years to find. So while all of this is happening, Bakugou is out there just every day, “what have I done, what have I done, what have I done?” When they finally see each other again, Bakugou freaks out and Midoriya’s suppressed memories are triggered. Bakugou demands answers, Todoroki is confused and defensive, and Midoriya is just, “System overload. Shutting down,” and then face plants to the floor.

- Anyway, back to Shouto. He asks Midoriya if he remembers anything. Midoriya has exactly one memory (or at least, one easily accessible memory), and it’s this: “A man. He looked like this.” He put his hand over his face. “He said, ‘Sensei put so much work into you. Why are you so useless (Deku)?’”

- More bg info, AFO gave Midoriya to Shigaraki, telling him to try to make him useful, and Shigaraki DID try for a couple of months, but he was over the whole situation after basically one day. With his memories, Midoriya was scared and traumatized, had morals, cried a bunch and sometimes tried to escape, and was just UGH. He could mute his voice, but even that didn’t help, cause this kid was just sooo annoying. Without his memories he was awkward and boring and still annoying. Eventually he just yeeted him into a trash heap, but took his memory chip, since it technically contains LoV information.

- Midoriya considers his only memory and thinks being called Deku feels sort of normal, so he says as much. “Deku might also be my name. You can call me that, if you want.” Todoroki says he’ll stick with Midoriya, because Deku isn’t a nice name for his new robot friend.

- So the first section of the story after this is fairly light-hearted. Todoroki has to keep Midoriya a secret from Endeavor and Fuyumi (I feel like she does find out eventually, but agrees to help hide him, as she sees it’s good for her little bro to finally have this (maybe?) living thing/person to talk to and take care of.) Speaking of care, Midoriya is very easy to care for. He can eat, drink, and sleep, but doesn’t need to. He has some sort of self-charging system. Most of his “care” involves teaching him social skills (which oof, blind leading the blind, but they say teaching is the best way to learn, so this is actually good for Shouto too). Embarrassing stuff happens. Fluffy stuff happens. It’s a good time.

- Shouto spends the summer with Midoriya this way. Most of their interactions are fluffy and light, but not all. The first time he comes back to his room after training with his dad, he learns two things: Midoriya has first aid knowledge programmed into him and he’s capable of crying. As the trainings continue, Midoriya eventually reveals that he has over a hundred fighting styles programmed into him and knows over 70 ways to kill a person, but he can’t access any of that information while his safety is on. Todoroki is just like, “Uuuuuh, that’s really good to know…but we’re gonna keep the safety on for now, okay? I hate my dad but also please don’t murder him. He’s famous so we wouldn’t get away with it. Also murder is bad, don’t kill people.”

- Midoriya wants to know if all heroes are like Endeavor and Shouto is like, noooo and shows him the debut video of his personal favorite hero: All Might. Watching this video is the first time Midoriya has a “System overloading. Shutting down” moment. Shouto has an absolute panic attack, because if Midoriya reboots and his memories are wiped, then he’ll have lost the best friend he ever had. But Midoriya restarts and he’s fine. He explains that sometimes he shuts down, to prevent a system failure, which would damage his…idk, hard drive or whatever. He quietly admits that the All Might video is very familiar, and he thinks maybe it used to be important to him. Shouto questions him about his memories and Midoriya theorizes that perhaps he has them backed up, but he isn’t sure how to access them. 

- This is exciting for Shouto, because he thinks maybe if Midoriya experiences more “triggers,” like the video, he might regain his memories and be able to shed some light on the general mystery of where he came from/who made him/what his purpose is. Whenever Endeavor is away, he tries to sneak Midoriya out, so he can see the real world. He isn’t too concerned about his ears, because in a world of quirks, there are plenty of odd looking people around. So far he’s been wearing Todoroki’s clothes, which a little too big on him, so they go shopping and get him clothes. None of their outings seem to trigger anything, except one time when they pass a park where Midoriya and Bakugou used to play as kids. Midoriya grows quiet and seems far away for a moment, but he doesn’t overload and shakes off the familiar feeling.

- Whenever they see All Might stuff he’s just !!!!!!! He can’t remember why he likes All Might, but he remembers how he feels about him. The more All Might stuff he sees, the more his old feelings return. One day they pass a large All Might poster and Midoriya says, “I think maybe I wanted to be like him, once.”

- Eventually Todoroki starts school. He feels bad about leaving him, but Midoriya is content to stay in his room and occupy himself until Todoroki comes home. He’s part computer, so he’s a total boss at helping with math homework. He likes doing homework with Todoroki in general, because he likes learning. This is great for Todoroki’s grades because again, the teaching thing helps everything stick better for him. 

- The attack on USJ happens and Todoroki sees Shigaraki, who has a hand on his face, and he’s like, “Shit, shit, shit, this is the guy who threw away Midoriya,” and he has NO idea what to do with that information. Midoriya belonging to the LoV does explain the “70+ ways to kill” programming though. He tells Midoriya what happened and Midoriya is kind of whatever about it. He says, “Maybe I belonged to villains, but I belong to you, now.” And Shouto is like, “No, no, no, no. You do not. You belong to yourself” and Midoriya is just ????

- I think for the Sports Festival, Midoriya convinces him to use his fire. It’s sort of like, “It’s your power, even though its origin is Endeavor. Just like how everything I can do is my power, even though I was programmed by villains. Being made by villains doesn’t make me a villain. Using the resources they gave me doesn’t make me a villain. Being Endeavor’s son doesn’t make you Endeavor, and using your fire doesn’t either.” Todoroki turns off Midoriya’s safety, confident he has nothing to fear.

- Midoriya watches the Sports Festival on tv (using his blutooth, he can actually just hear the volume in his head, so he can watch silently). He sees Bakugou. Seeing him on screen doesn’t have a huge impact on him, but he does feel something. Fear, unease, admiration, and affection. He’s confused and uncomfortable, and ends up looking away from the screen whenever he’s shown for too long.

- Shouto actually starts making friends at school. Being with Midoriya has taught him a lot about being kind and the joy having other people in your life can bring. Still, he doesn’t trust anyone enough to tell them about Midoriya. He’s terrified of losing him.

- For the Hosu incident, Midoriya is home alone, probably doing something on Shouto’s laptop. He sees the breaking news and is just, “Welp, that’s where Shouto, the official best person in the world, is, so guess I’m going to Hosu to make sure he’s safe.” He leaves the house alone, for the first time ever, and just runs to Hosu. Idk how far away Hosu is from the Todoroki residence, but Midoriya doesn’t fatigue and he’s also outrageously fast, so it’s fine. Also he can see in the dark, but only if he activates his night vision, which makes his eyes glow. Not good for sneaking, but very pretty and cool. I’m not sure how he finds Shouto, or how Shouto found Iida, but I imagine Stain is like, seconds from skewering him and then Midoriya comes out of nowhere and collides with Stain (which is a big deal, cause remember, Midoriya is filled with metal parts and is super heavy). They fight together and at some point Stain cuts Midoriya and he bleeds, which for Shouto is like !?!??! And then he licks his blood and the paralysis works and Shouto is just !!!!!!!!!!!!!!

- Later, after the life threatening stuff is over, Todoroki has some seriously thoughts about this, because what if Midoriya is human? Or part human? That would be a huge development, and also kind of relief for him, because he sort of feels like he’s been falling in love, but he’s been desperately stomping down on those feelings, because he knows falling in love with a robot probably isn’t healthy. But falling in love with a half robot? I mean, Iida could be called part robot, with his legs, if you want to get technical about it. And Todoroki does want to get technical about it, thank you very much. If Iida is dateable, then so is Midoriya.

- Back to Hosu. They beat Stain and, after securing him, Todoroki tells Midoriya to go home, before his dad arrives. Once he leaves, he begs Iida not to tell anyone he saw him and promises to explain later. For ease of narrative, Native was unconscious the entire fight.

- Endeavor shows up, as does the Nomu. It takes Shouto but Stain rescues him. At the hospital, Todoroki explains the Midoriya situation to Iida, revealing that this incident was the first time he realized Midoriya had blood in him. Iida agrees to keep the secret, but urges Todoroki to tell someone. Maybe Aizawa. He agrees to consider, but he doesn’t want Midoriya to get taken away and like, locked up to be studied or something. He and Iida become better friends, bonding over almost dying together and sharing the secret of Midoriya. 

- Midterms! Shouto scores higher because he has an awesome robot tutor. He doesn’t actually care, but good for him regardless.

- Summer field trip time. Midoriya can’t come, obviously. I’m thinking during this time, he decides to sneak out of the house and explore on his own. He feels guilty, because Shouto would worry if he knew, but he just feels this draw. He feels like maybe his old memories were important, and he’s becoming curious. He keeps thinking about the boy from the Sports Festival and about All Might. He ends up in his old neighborhood. He sees his middle school and he doesn’t remember anything, but seeing the building makes him feel lonely and sort of bad about himself. It reminds him of Shigaraki calling him Deku, and the familiar feeling that gave him. He leaves and finds himself on his old street. He isn’t close at all to his old home - he can barely see the apartment building - but he can still see it. He almost shuts down, but turns away quickly and starts back the way he came. He doesn’t remember anything, but seeing that building fills him with overwhelming emotions. The strongest one reminds him of his feelings for Shouto, but it’s different. He can’t place it, but he knows he’d die to protect Shouto, and he feels like maybe he once knew someone in that building that he would also die to protect. Once he gets home, he realizes he’s crying. He decides to sleep and he dreams of green eyes and a smile that looks like home.

- Shouto is injured during the villain attack and goes to the hospital. Once he’s released, he agrees with Kirishima that they’ll go rescue Bakugou. That whole thing pretty much goes at it did in canon, except All Might never found a successor, so he’s more powerful. He defeats AFO and does not have to retire, though he’s feeling an overwhelming pressure to find a successor now, because he knows he’s hanging on by a thread.

- Dorms!! Shouto is bringing his boy with him. He figures he can hide him just as easily there as he can at home. Getting him in is a little tricky, but he manages. From there, it’s smooth sailing.

- Except not really, because living with 18-19 other people (19 if Hitoshi is in the class, which, maybe) is way different than living with 2. Midoriya is discovered in like, a week and everyone is freaking out, most of all Bakugou, who basically breaks down. He tries to hit Midoriya and screams at him, about thinking he was dead and going to his funeral and how it was his fault and having to face his mom and did Midoriya even think about his mom??? As previously mentioned, Midoriya just shuts down and face plants to the ground.

- Shouto finally learns Midoriya’s full name. Midoriya Izuku. A+ name. Very cute. He plans to use it immediately.

- Bakugou’s insight changes the situation completely. Now they know Izuku was once 100% human and something awful happened to him. They end up bringing him to Aizawa and explaining the situation and everything they know. Todoroki gets scolded, cause Izuku could have been dangerous and he should have known better, but he doesn’t even pretend to have regrets. Endeavor would have made him throw Izuku back into the trash where he found him. His best friend isn’t trash.

- Now the name of the game is helping Izuku restore his memories. Bakugou is a huge help, but patience is required, to keep Izuku from overloading. He remembers bits and pieces at a time, all centered around Bakugou. Aizawa agrees to let him attend classes, so they can keep an eye on him. He’s also hoping a school setting might trigger more memories. He meets All Might and he doesn’t even get to announce his system malfunction before he’s out. He sees him, starts smoking at the mouth and hits the floor. All Might is very alarmed.

- Tsukauchi is made aware of the situation. He wants to keep things under wraps though. If the LoV is aware Midoriya is out and about, they may target him. If they can restore his memories though, they may gain insight into the group’s plans. That being said, he thinks it’s only right that they tell Inko. They tell her they have information on her son and make her sign a contract, agreeing not to release any information. Once she agrees, they brief her on what they know and, at the end, bring in Izuku.

- Izuku has been talking with Bakugou about his mom, to prepare for this (he usually wants Shouto with him for these conversations, and Shouto and Bakugou sort on inadvertently become friends). He can’t remember her at all, but he remembers the face in his dream. He knows it’s her. While talking, he’s shut down a few times (which drives Bakugou up the wall, and also scares him a little, cause he kind of looks dead when it happens), but he thinks he might be ready to see her now. He’s brought in and he does not shut down, not fully, but he comes close. He definitely glitches a little, maybe doing a quick reboot, quick enough that he doesn’t even fall, and his voice comes out cracked and metallic when he speaks, and there are sparks in his mouth, but he manages, “Mom?” They both cry and she holds him while he tells her, voice wavering between sounding normal and sounding robotic, that he doesn’t remember her, but he loves her, he knows he loves her so so much and he knows he’s missed her, even though he didn’t know who she was. It’s very emotional, and extremely hard for both of them when they finally have to separate, because Izuku can’t go home with her. She’s allowed to visit though, and each visit helps him restore little pieces of his memory. Between her and Bakugou, he starts making enough progress that he stops shutting down when he gains a new memory, and he starts remembering his old hopes and dreams. He doesn’t remember what AFO did to him, but he remembers enough of his past to feel self-conscious now, about his body. He breaks down one day and Shouto holds him while he grapples with his identity, his humanity, and his future. 

- I’m picturing a scene where he’s crying and Shouto takes his face in his hands and explains all the beautiful things about him that make him human, and he finishes up with something corny like, “I know you, Izuku. You’re human. You have to be human, because I’m in love with you.” And then they KISS and it is ROMANTIC!

- He decides he still wants to be a hero and he becomes a real member of 1A, instead of just a visitor. The whole class helps him design a costume and come up with a name and in general are just like, “Cyborg Hero, yay!!”

- And that’s all I got. I think eventually he would fight the league, and probably retrieve his chip, giving him 100% of his memories. There’s a LOT of trauma to deal with there, because he was basically torn apart and put back together several times by AFO, but they do gain all the information they need to take down the LoV for good. And the Overhaul arc is in there. Izuku might still intern with Nighteye, because All Might is like, “Robot successor? Maybe???” and he wants Nighteye’s opinion. Nighteye can’t see his future, because he’s not fully human, but eventually he gives his stamp of approval. Eri is rescued and that’s a very personal fight for Izuku, because he identifies with what she’s gone through. And of course she loves him and thinks his ears are cute and his glowy eyes are pretty.

- Oh, and the School Festival. I honestly don’t even know what to do with him. He can learn any instrument just by like, downloading some YouTube tutorial videos. He can learn any dance by watching it once. He’s really strong, really fast, and can also operate as a speaker (though that can be awkward, cause it’s through his mouth, so he’d just be standing there with his mouth open). They might keep his role same as canon, idk. They’d probably all fight over him.

- I’m sure none of this was anything like Chobits. Sorry. I just think the ears are neat, really, and liked the idea of Izuku being a cyborg (Chobits isn’t even about cyborgs, lol).

Sorry this is outrageously long! If you want to write this into a full fic, feel free to use my ideas! Just give me a shoutout, maybe? And tell me about it, so I can read it!

[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.

[spencer-reid-in-a-pool]

Guest Speaker

Anon requested: Hi! I saw that your requests are open, so this is oddly specific but, could I get a Reid x reader where she’s a cheerleader kinda prom queen stereotype but she’s like really smart and majoring in criminology (maybe that’s how they meet?) and he’s sorta insecure about dating her, maybe it could be a bit smutty? If not it’s totally cool, thank you sooo much. 

Author’s note: First off, I would like to apologize to you anon. I took a rather long hiatus without really planning to due to some personal stuff, so I’m really sorry for that. I hope you still follow me, I hope you see this, and I hope above all else that you like it. Also, I should mention I didn’t add any smut because I didn’t feel like it fit the story. But, if you would like, I could do a smutty part 2! Just let me know. 

Part 2

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Reader’s POV:

Could this class be any more boring? Sure, criminology is my favorite subject. But this professor looked like he had one foot in the grave, with the voice to match. Talk about naptime. 

I put my pen down in exasperation and decided that picking at my nail polish was a better way to spend my time. 

“Psst,” a voice hissed next to me. 

I popped my gum as I looked up at the source of the voice. It was Naomi, my best friend. 

“Girl, I didn’t even notice you next to me!”

“I know,” she whispered, trying not to laugh. “You were too enamored with your polish flaking off. Sometimes I wonder how you’re top of the class.” 

I stifled a laugh. 

“I wonder the same thing sometimes, Naomi. Hey, I think I might dip a little early. What do you think about coming with me?” 

No answer. I waited to see if she would respond, but she never did. Glancing up, I saw her staring towards the podium. There was no way she was looking at Dr. Daniels. I followed her gaze and about swallowed my gum in surprise. 

Dr. Daniels was up there, but next to him was someone I had never seen before. Quite unfortunate, if I do say so myself, because he had to be the most beautiful man I had ever seen. 

I whispered to Naomi out of the corner of my mouth, not breaking my gaze towards the man, “Who… is that?” 

“I think Daniels said he works at the FBI. A guest speaker, I guess. Dr. Spencer Reid.” 

She hadn’t stopped staring either.  

I rested my head in my hands and sighed. 

“He doesn’t look much older than us, Nay.”

She tilted her head and blinked slowly, “May the best woman win.” 

——————————–

“Alright, so that brings me to the end of my presentation. I have to get back to Quantico soon, but uh- I’ll stick around for some questions if anyone has any.”

Dr. Spencer Reid had to be the most beautiful, awkward, brilliant man I had ever seen. 

I glanced around the room as I packed my things. Not many people went up to ask questions. A few did, but only briefly. Their loss. 

Naomi nudged me with her elbow. “Gonna ask him a question?” 

I took a deep breath, “I don’t think any of my questions have anything to do with criminology.” 

Naomi laughed and shouldered her bag. “I’ve gotta get to my next class.”

She began walking down the steps to leave the room, but turned to me at the last second. 

She began pointing at him while his back was turned and mouthed the words, “Get his number for me.” 

As luck would have it, he turned around and noticed Naomi gesturing towards him. He looked at her and then up to me. A nervous smile graced his lips as he turned back around to pack his things. 

I widened my eyes at Naomi and she raised her hands in defeat with a huge grin on her face. 

Once she left, only Dr. Reid and I remained. I started my walk up to the podium, trying to come up with any questions that actually related to his presentation. As I slowed down near him, I prayed he couldn’t hear my heart ripping a hole in my chest. 

“Um, Dr. Reid.”

He lifted his head and looked towards me, pausing mid-action. His hands were large compared to the papers he was putting in his bag.

“What can I do for you?”

I shifted my weight around, trying to get comfortable. It didn’t work.

“I was just wondering- um, does the FBI take interns? It’s been a dream of mine to work for the FBI.” 

He turned all the way towards me and narrowed his eyes slightly. Was he judging me or something? 

“Yeah, actually we do. There’s tons of programs you can check out. What’s your major?” 

“Criminology,” I said softly. 

“Oh wow, really? I would’ve thought maybe it would have been… something else.” 

He glanced at my bag where my pom poms were sticking out. 

“Ah, yeah because I’m a cheerleader?”

“Uh, no no, that’s not what I meant- I just-”

I shook my head with a small smile. “No, don’t worry about it. I get it a lot. Cheerleading is just a hobby. I’m actually top of the class.”

Dr. Reid raised his eyebrows in surprise. “That’s very impressive! I was top of my class in- well, every class,” he said, laughing quietly.

“I don’t doubt it, but you don’t look much older than us. Are you that much of a genius you skipped so many grades?” 

He grabbed his bag and shrugged it on. “I do have an IQ of 187. I’m not sure if that’s what you were looking for.”

He smiled shyly at me. I was confident there was nothing this man couldn’t do.

“Wow. Well, that’s really impressive, too.” 

I paused for a second, hoping he didn’t notice my burning red ears. 

“Well, um, Dr. Reid, I don’t wanna hold you up. I’m sure you have way more important things to be doing than talking to me.” 

He looked down at his feet and shifted his bag.

“Talking to you was important. Here,” he dug in his bag as he spoke, “Take my card. I’ll um- check up on those intern programs for you. Call me- I mean call my office in a few days. I’ll have something for you.”

He handed me his card abruptly. I took it with slightly shaking fingers. Hopefully he wouldn’t notice that either. 

“I have to go, but it was nice talking to you. Hope to see you in Quantico some day,” he said as he smiled. 

I stood stone still in my spot, still holding his card as if he had just handed it to me. I only broke out of my trance when he cleared his throat at the door as he was leaving.

“You shouldn’t pick your nail polish off. That color looks good on you.” 

And then he was gone.

—————————————-

As I walked out of class, I couldn’t seem to make my heart stop fluttering. Dr. Reid wouldn’t flirt with me- right? No way. He was just complimenting me.

Naomi could tell something was up when I got to cheerleading practice. I didn’t want to tell her though; she’d never let me hear the end of it.

“You’re late! What’s up, (Y/N)? Did something happen?”

I shook my head. “Nothing happened, just took the scenic route!”

She narrowed her eyes at me. “Spill. What happened?”

I sighed. I should’ve known she’d start in on me immediately. Guess I’ll save myself the trouble and just tell her now.

“I talked to Dr. Reid and he gave me his card. And…he said I shouldn’t pick at my nail polish because the color looks good on me.”

Naomi’s jaw dropped. “Show me. Card. Now.”

I dug in my pocket and handed her the card. She snatched it from my fingers that still felt tingly.

“Oh my God! What did you say to him to make him give you that?”

I grabbed the card back from her. “I said I was interested in an FBI internship.”

She scoffed. “Well, I don’t know about an internship but you gotta get laid. Call him. And use protection,” she finished, winking at me.

I rolled my eyes and followed Naomi to the sideline before coach started yelling at us.

————————————–

A few days had passed since I talked to Dr. Reid. I didn’t know what to do. Should I really call him or just forget that interaction ever happened?

I tried pushing the thought of him from my mind to focus on tonight. It was Friday night, which meant football. Not just football, but the rival team was playing us tonight. It was a huge game and tons of people are coming. I had to make sure I didn’t fuck anything up.

My makeup was done and my uniform was on, so I made my way to the field.

I was early of course, but there were already herds of people trying to get in. Young and old, students and non-students. Everyone was here. I felt the familiar rush of excitement I get before performing. There was nothing else like it in the world.

Tonight was gonna be a night to remember.

———————————–

Narrator’s POV:

“Tell me why we’re here again?” Derek asked in confusion.

Spencer scratched his head. He was no good at these kinds of things.

“Well, I was really young in college. I- I never got the full college experience as an adult.” He tried not to cringe at his own words.

Derek glaced at Garcia. She shrugged and turned to JJ.

“I’m gonna go grab a hot dog. Wanna come with?”

JJ nodded. “Of course! Want anything boys?”

Spencer shook his head and Derek asked for a drink. The two women walked off.

“Well let’s go find seats then, Pretty Boy.”

Derek took Spencer through the crowd; it wasn’t hard to see he had no clue what was going on.

They found an empty corner in the bottom row of the bleachers. Spencer hesitated as Derek sat down.

“You gonna stand there all night, kid?”

He glanced around before his eyes settled on Derek.

“Do you know how many germs there are on these things?”

Derek rolled his eyes. “You wanted the full college experience. Here it is.”

Spencer groaned internally before sitting down.

“So tell me,” the bigger man said as he leaned forward, “Which one are you here for?” Derek gestured to the cheerleaders lining up on the field.

Spencer shifted in his seat and cut a sideways glance at Derek. “What makes you think I wanted to watch the cheerleaders?”

Derek laughed. “Kid, I might not be a genius like you, but I am a profiler. And I can tell when someone is crushing. You’ve been looking around here for something. My guess is, you saw a pretty girl at your guest lecture the other day and wanna see more of her.”

Spencer began to protest but sank back down in defeat. He looked around at the girls, trying to find the one he came for. After what seemed like forever, he found her.

“That one,” he pointed out, “in the very front with the (your hair color) hair.”

Derek looked at you as you began calling out to the other girls, leading them in a cheer.

“My man,” Derek said as he clapped Spencer on the back with a smile. “You better get to talking to her soon, or I may have to work my magic.”

Spencer sighed, “Go ahead. It’s not like she would like me anyway.”

“What makes you say that, kid?” 

“Well, it’s just- I’ve never had much luck with those types of girls. Remember a few years ago with JJ?” Spencer said quietly while looking at his hands.

“That was back then, man. Look at you now! I bet she’d be into you.”

Spencer tried not to smile. “You think so?”

“I know so,” Derek said, patting Spencer’s back once again.

Spencer smiled to himself. He felt a little better about everything. 

“What’s her name?” 

Spencer looked at Derek and paused. “I- I don’t know. I didn’t ask.”

JJ and Garcia appeared then, hands full of snacks and drinks. 

Derek leaned back as the girls sat down behind them.

“He’s here for a girl,” 

JJ groaned and set her food down. Garcia smirked and held out her hand expectantly. After a second of digging in her pocket, JJ pulled out some money and slapped it into Garcia’s hand.

“Pleasure doing business with you,” she said as she put the money into her bag.

“Y- you guys took a bet?” Spencer asked in shock.

“All’s fair in love and war, dear doctor.”

“Garcia that doesn’t even- never mind,” Spencer said, shaking his head. He turned his head back to the field. 

You were at the top of the formation now, standing on one foot while holding your other leg in the air with one hand, being held up by all the girls underneath you. It took Spencer’s breath away. You were so beautiful. 

“OOH, she’s flexible!” Garcia grunted out past mouthfuls of hotdog. 

Spencer ignored the comment and continued watching. He didn’t expect you to watch him, though.

You had found him in the crowd and made eye contact for a second. He raised his hand to begin waving, but stopped when he saw the color leave your face. 

“Hey, woah- is she okay? She’s wobbling a little,” Derek said, shifting forward like he was going to stand up. 

“She looks like she’s gonna-” JJ started. She didn’t get to finish. The group watched in horror as you went limp and fell from the top of the formation. 

—————————————-

Reader’s POV: 

I loved being up here. There was no other feeling like it, especially when I got to call out the cheers tonight. 

We were nearing the end of this cheer, so I held out this position as long as I could, smiling at everyone in the crowd, making eye contact with as many as possible. I wasn’t expecting to make eye contact with Dr. Reid.

What was he doing here?! 

I felt my leg begin to wobble, but still held my position. My heart was pounding and I suddenly felt very cold. 

“Hey,” one of the girls below me hissed, “You okay?” 

“I-” I managed to whisper, “I don’t feel so good…”

I don’t remember falling, so I was a little shocked when I came to, laying on my back. The rest of the squad circled around me, panicked looks on their faces. 

“Hey, it’s okay. Stay down there. The AT is coming over to talk to you,” Naomi said, patting my shoulder. 

I groaned and tried sitting up, but she pushed me back down. “That’s not a good idea. You just passed out.”

My eyes fluttered shut as I tried to remember what happened.

“Ugh, how embarrassing. I’ve never fallen before.” 

Naomi smiled sadly at me. “It happens to the best of us. But what happened? Why did you lose it?” 

I rubbed my head and sat up slowly, much to the annoyance of Naomi and the AT. 

“I just felt- sick all of a sudden. I don’t know,” I lied quietly. 

The AT handed me a bottle of water. “Just nerves, baby. It’s a big game.” 

I nodded as she helped me up. “Yeah. Just nerves.” 

Naomi went back to the squad and told them I was okay. The AT sat me down on the sideline, leaning me against the fence. “Take a breather, hun. You’ll feel better by halftime.”

I gave her a smile as thanks, and took a sip of water.

A voice behind me called out, “Hey, are you okay?”

Dr. Reid stood on the other side of the fence with a bigger African-American man and two blonde girls, one wearing glasses and one without glasses.

“Oh, yeah I’m fine! It’s just a big game. A lot of nerves, you know?” 

I stood up and faced them. “Are these your coworkers?” 

“Oh uh, yeah, this is Derek, JJ, and Penelope,” Spencer said, gesturing to each of the people next to him in turn. 

I gave them a small smile and a wave. 

“So what are you doing here? FBI that boring that you have to come see a random college football game? Maybe I don’t want an internship,” I laughed out to them. 

Derek laughed with me. “Nah, Pretty Boy didn’t come for the game-”

Dr. Reid punched him in the arm.

The two women, JJ and Penelope, laughed as Derek raised his hands in defeat. “Alright, alright!”

I smiled and shook my head, looking back out to the field. 

“Hey, I never asked you the other day. What’s your name?” 

I turned my attention back to Dr. Reid. The other three were no longer in sight. 

“(Y/N). My name is (Y/N).”

“Well, nice to officially meet you, (Y/N).” 

“So what are you really doing here, Dr. Reid? It doesn’t take a genius to see that you have no interest in football.” 

I hopped the fence and stood next to him. 

“Hey, be careful. You did just have a pretty big fall.”

I grinned, a burst of confidence erupting in my chest. 

“Of course, Doctor.”

He leaned against the fence next to me and looked down to meet my gaze. “Call me Spencer.” 

My heart fluttered a bit. He was totally into me. 

“Okay. Spencer, then.” 

He smiled back at me. “Would you maybe want to get a coffee with me sometime?”

I turned towards him, hoping he didn’t see just how much I was blushing. 

“I thought you’d never ask.”