#Like at least there's fucking someone in this show in Romans corner like actually in his corner
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I've started watching succession for the first time and my recap so far (I'm halfway through s2)
Shiv: she has crazy girlboss disease and I think many of her problems would be solved if she ate some pussy, 10/10 I love her and want her to act at least 43% more unhinged
Roman: literally deranged. a wet dog left outside in a box type of pathetic I want things to get so much worse for him. 10/10 ban him from ever getting professional help whatever is wrong with him is way funnier
Kendall: I have so many complicated feelings. Like he like sucks but in a way that is not nearly as fun for me as the other two but also he's so just miserable I can't look away any self distruction from him just gives me tummy aches ???/10
Two for the price of one Tom and Greg as a horrific bonus feature: I honestly hate both of them sorry.... like Tom would be engaging if he was idk. like 10% crazier and also a woman and Greg. if Greg was more pathetic I would be capitvated but I'm just like "oh cool tomfucker9000 is on the screen again" 4/10
Logan: Logan Logan/Logan
Bonus round: I love Conner I'm a conhead for life easily the funniest character, I thought I'd like maria in s1 but as it went on I realized she actually does like Logan for who he is absolutely devisating, I love gerri I love milfs I hope she makes roman worse and continues to use him for her own self achieving means. also Tabitha should be my girlfriend instead actually
I will update when I have more thoughts
#Greg would be interesting if he had a coke addiction and then did vehicular manslaughter over it#But he's just got a bunch of wishy washy morals that he uses to feel better than the people he's surrounded himself with#but will throw them out the moment it's convenient#again if he was like 10x more pathetic I would be captured by his horrific ways instead he's just. idk he's there#Tom would also be interesting to me if he was just a little worse with it instead I find him deeply unappealing sorry#Shiv is like really interesting to me bc Greg only has morals when it's convenient#but shiv only has them at the most inconvenient times for her#she just can't fully commit to being a terrible person but is also still sooo awful and I love that in a woman#Kendall also has that same swag to varying degrees but I have so many complicated feelings on him#he's like less vulnerable than Roman but he's still so deeply broken especially in s2 when he's drunk the coolaid#Which is why I'm so obsessed with that slap scene like he was in full fawn mode over Logan but even that was still a bridge too far#I need to chew on him that's so interesting#anyway#succession#I want more con but I want nothing bad to happen to him ever#ALSO#Gerri is so like. Ugh I love her#Ik whatever the fuck is going on between her and Roman is a ticking time bomb that shit can not end well#But even if she is just using him for her own self gain I literally do not care#Like at least there's fucking someone in this show in Romans corner like actually in his corner#Her chasing her own success means she has to chase Romans as well bc he is her avenue to that success so it's like#yeah girl so whatever the fuck you want#To be very clear I do not roman to be CEO or involved in the company at all let my rescue dog free babyyyy#But at this point I just need at least one person who is actually trying to get Roman ahead I do not care if she's only doing it for hersel#At least she's fucking doing it ya know 😭#Also she's so hot. sorry
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supernatural s7e6 slash fiction (w. robbie thompson)
episode title fills me with dread. good sign. another unfamiliar writer. trademark sam forearm flex
DEAN
All right. Well, that settles it. We find these ass monkeys, and we kill them ourselves.
BOBBY
Wait a sec. Every form of law enforcement in the country has seen your ugly mugs this morning.
DEAN
Exactly. So what's the point in trying to hide?
what kind of dumbass reasoning
okay so is it slash as in slasher? and just a poke at fans to make them think it's gonna be hot man on man action
maybe don't take the impala, a giant noisy incredibly noticeable classic car. is the slash fiction with us in the room right now? all right well i recognize this dude's name because it's got devereaux in it just like one of my all-time favorite hannibal fic writers @devereauxsdisease - so funny, so good. highly recommend if you're in the mood for some hannigram
now. the real question. will the new computer have.. say it with me, untitled 1 and 2. also, the actual real question. this was before having any sort of remote storage was common, and they probably had stuff saved on that hard drive. okay okay WAIT. we could pretend that they back up a snapshot to an external drive.. that could conceivably transfer their desktop settings too. it's conceivable sam's on the ball. (however mister devereaux would want to smash that too, whatever)
seeing jody in her cute little fitted leather jacket and jeans got me wondering how old her actress is - born in 1969 which is the same year as ellen's actress. bobby apparently consistently pulling women 19 years his junior
so like okay with this whole fucking leviathan shifter situation, should they like. stab them to see what color they bleed, before interacting with someone they supposedly know
DEAN
You know, it's bad enough that they're ganking people, wearing our mugs, but now this? Have us driving around in this... this caboodle while Baby's on lockdown.
SAM
It's temporary, Dean.
DEAN
Nobody puts Baby in a corner.
oh god the eyeroll i did i think i pulled something (i will admit i laughed too). dirty dancing was a very regular part of my childhood. oh, not the lip syncing to air supply. why must they make dean do these things
LEVIATHAN!SAM
I'm serious. It's nothing but Satan-vision on the inside.
all right them ragging on the boys with an inside perspective is funny.
okay if they're cosplaying the pulp fiction diner robbery, i think that makes dean honey bunny
whoa jump scare it's teen wolf bad grandpa, my least favorite character! he was on bsg too
teen wolf - michael hogan as gerard argent
appreciate they showed us sam's healing scar without it being the focal point
DEAN
Sammy.
DEAN
Not Sammy.
ok that was cute. and the nickname forever and ever warms the cockles of my heart
LEVIATHAN!DEAN
You could be anything. You're strong, you're uninhibited. You're smart enough, believe it or not. But you're so caught up in being good and taking care of each other.
oh GOD fucking stabbing jewel staite i had forgotten this is still a dangling source of conflict. THANKS I HATE IT STILL. they better fucking talk about this instead of oh sam's hiding that he knows and dean's hiding that he did it and feels guilty and doesn't know sam knows bullSHIT.
DICK ROMAN
Now it's your turn to listen. I'd sooner swim through hot garbage than shake hands with a bottom-feeding mutation like you. You demons are ugly, lazy, gold-digging whores. You're less than humans, and they're not good for much till you dip 'em in garlic sauce. I'd never work with you, Crowley. In fact, if I wasn't busy with better things, I might actively wipe your kind from the face of the Universe. And you'd deserve it. Are we clear?
well i guess that frees up crowley to work with the good guys
great. what i hate more than them being in trouble with the law, them splitting up/sam walking away. i get it in a variety of ways, but i still hate it. blergh. also what a miserable little outfit he's wearing. sometimes leans into the dadcore a little too much
#supernatural#spnwatch#spn 7x06#spnhiky#hiky#teen wolf#gerard argent#michael hogan#robbie thompson#spn desktop background update#amy pond#jewel staite
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What to Do?: Chapter 2
One, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten
Summary: Logan realizing that his first mistake was seeing the other sides as anything other than coworkers. They weren't a family. They didn't even like each other. How had he not realized sooner?
Warnings: General anxiety, hurt/comfort, angst, and hurt feelings.
Word Count: 1,803
Logan could feel the tug in his gut of the others clearly trying to summon him into the centerpiece of the mindspace. For a split second he felt a jab of fear racing through him as he pondered whether or not he should actually go to them, they wouldn’t be happy about the decision he had decided to make for himself. If anything they’d probably be most cross with him about it, or… or perhaps they’d laugh at him. Say that it was ridiculous that he was trying to appear so professional with all the things that they knew about each other.
Yeah… they would most definitely try to laugh it off to clear the air, and to make him go back on his decision. To undermine his boundaries, and make him second guess himself when it came to this.
But he wouldn’t… he couldn’t.
Not about this, and most certainly not now. He had already talked himself into doing this, and he wasn’t going to let his imagination run away with him about it either.
He had made up his mind.
“Logan…” He could hear Patton referring to him.
“Logan.” He could hear Roman talking.
“Logan..” He could hear Virgil mumbling.
Logan’s fingers curled into his hands, and he could feel his temper flaring up before he even attempted to stamp it back down. “Shut up!” He snarled to himself, raising his hands to his ears as to block out the sounds of his name that came from inside his head. A part of him felt like sobbing, like curling up in a corner and just admitting defeat so that it would just make it all stop. But he couldn’t do that, and he knew that he couldn’t do that. There was too much work to be done… “Just stop!”
Logan. Logan. Logan…
Logan!
This could not wait another day, no matter what Logan tried to tell himself it just couldn’t. He needed to set things straight, and get it down with the others so they at least understood where he was on the matter, no matter how much it hurt their feelings. In the end, it would at least make him feel better, and hopefully… hopefully things would at least change then and he’d be listened to.
Even if it was only a little bit.
Straightening his back, and forcing his hands back down to his sides Logan rose up in the living room biting his tongue the entire time. He would only have to endure his name in their mouths for just a little bit longer, they might not listen, but at least they would know. And that’s literally all that he needed from them, it didn’t matter if they got upset or refused.
Because this was for him, not for them.
“Logan!” Virgil’s head whipped away from Patton and Roman, and to where Logan was standing. “Are you okay?” The anxious side tried to ask it cooly, but everyone could see his hands fidgeting with the loose threading strands of his sleeves. The anxiety he had felt coming off of Logan in waves had all but vanished the moment that he had arrived, and it had done very little to lessen Virgil’s own anxieties about the subject. His gaze seemed to look everywhere but Logan for an instance, before he finally willed himself to look at the logical side. “You seemed kind of anxious, and we were…” The words that were right on Virgil’s tongue died in an instant upon seeing the look on Logan’s face.
None of them had exactly gotten a chance to talk to Logan after his whole run in with Remus, but right then and there… Virgil wished that he had been there from the very start. To help Logan, and to help the logical side come to terms with the fact that his schedule hadn’t exactly been followed.
He wished… he wished that he had done something.
Because…
Logan didn’t look cold, he didn’t even appear to be disinterested in them like he had in the past when it came to discussing Roman’s daydreams or plans. He just looked…
Well it was weird, but he looked oddly polite.
Like a stranger waiting for someone to stop talking, so that he could speak his business.
Virgil swallowed thickly, “Deceit?” He merely asked, looking Logan up and down as if trying to spot any inconsistencies of the other side’s attire.
There was nothing.
And Logan slowly shook his head, his eyes remaining trained on Virgil steadily. He looked calm, the farthest thing from the side who used to scream falsehood at him and anyone who tried to lie to his face. His hair was a windswept mess, and his clothes even messier. With his tie loosened and the collar to his shirt unbuttoned by a single button. And it was that alone that sent alarm bells off in Virgil’s head, because despite all of that… Logan was here. He was calm, he was collected, and there didn’t seem to be anything wrong with him.
He looked fine.
But something was wrong, maybe it was just him but.. there had to be something wrong with Logan. He couldn’t be okay, not by any kind of standards. He knew Logan too well to know that the logical side would never show up to any kind of meeting with them dressed as he was. Logan was far too prideful for that, and he also knew that Roman would most certainly never let him live it down. So… something.. Something had to be wrong here. He couldn’t be okay.
Not after what happened.
“Logan,” Patton inched forward, a look of clear worry on his face. “You okay bucko? Are you feeling oka-”
“Logic.”
Patton blinked, hoping that he had misheard what Logan had just said to him. His voice chilly in the kind of way that made his back shiver, even if there wasn’t a single draft to be felt. “What?” He attempted a happy playful smile that wouldn’t betray how he was feeling, when the stoney look on Logan’s face didn’t even budge for a second he felt it slip right off into a puzzled frown. He was acutely aware of Roman and Virgil watching their interaction with the eyes of a hawk, their eyes were burning the back of his head. He could feel something inside of him tremble with that one word that Logan had spoken to him, and he hoped with everything that he was… that he’d only misheard Logan. With Logan’s firm unbreaking stare, and the obvious stares from the other two sides… he had to actively avoid squirming in place just from how uncomfortable he was starting to get from the change in atmosphere.
All it had taken was one word… and it felt like everything had just turned on its head.
Logan crossed his arms smoothly over his chest, “Given the state of our relationship, it is Logic.. Not Logan.” There wasn’t a single hint of joking or exaggeration in his voice, there was just that air of polite honesty that somehow managed to rub Patton the wrong way.
“What?” He asked again, his throat choking out the word. This time he was absolutely sure that he was about to cry, was this.. was this Logan ending their friendship? Was he really that tired of them and their jokes? Did he…
Did he hate them?
“What are you talking about?!” This time it was Roman who spoke up, the creative side had been lounging on the couch for a majority of the time. Only now rising once it was apparent how upset Patton was getting with Logan’s selective words, and to top it off… he was getting rather upset himself at it. Did this name change just go to Patton, or was it all of them combined? “Listen,” Roman tried to say patiently. “If you’re upset and angry about your schedule not being followed this is not the way to act about it, tell us and we’ll work something out. Don’t just pull this shit and expect us to not know what to do with it!”
Roman’s breath came out in hot angry puffs, he honestly hadn’t expected himself to get so worked up over this.
Logan’s eyes shifted over to him, clearly waiting a moment to see if Roman was done talking. “Creativity.” Roman’s lungs seized, and his breathing stopped right then and there with that one little word. Logan was… Logan was serious. “I am not angry.” He said patiently. “I understand that sometimes things come up that can get in the way of a preplanned schedule. It is okay, and I understand that nothing could be done that specific day.” Logan linked his fingers together. “However, I am merely stating that I wish to not be referred to so casually.”
Their mouths gaped openly, a mixture of concern, fear, and puzzlement written over each of their faces. For a moment Roman had no idea what to say, after everything involving Patton and Janus this just felt like one more thing that he didn’t understand. He was fairly certain that none of them understood this though, judging by the looks on each of their faces. None of them knew why Logan was choosing to pursue this, and honestly… he was kind of scared to know exactly why.
Because that meant in some kind of way… they had all fucked up.
Roman hated himself for the words that came out of him next, “Are we not close? I thought that knowing your name, and using it meant that.. that you trusted us with it.”
For a split second, Logan looked up to the ceiling and Roman fought the urge to bristle indignantly at the implications. The hurt in his heart steadily being replaced by a new feeling that he couldn’t yet put his finger on, but once he did…
“No,” Logan merely said, and didn’t elaborate. “I am going to go back to my room should you need to call on me again, I will be drafting up a new schedule that we can all hopefully agree upon, in the meantime... Have a good day.”
There wasn’t the tiniest hint of resignation or resentment, throughout everything that he’d told them Logan had remained polite to the very end. Even when he ducked out, there weren’t any side eyes, or upset looks from him. Just an air of civil courtesy, that felt so.. so unlike him. Logan got excited about his projects, and he got upset when they didn’t play out to how he wanted them exactly to go. He should have been upset, he should have been spitting barbs and being salty about his failed schedule, he should have reassured Virgil’s anxieties, and he should have…
He should trust them…
Shouldn’t he?
#logan sanders#ts logan#ts logan sanders#patton sanders#roman sanders#virgil sanders#mentions of janus#mentions of remus#sanders sides#ts sides#ts sanders sides#sanders sides fanfiction#ts sanders sides fanfiction#ts sides fanfiction
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“don’t overthink it” stfu and watch me: an analysis
this card, in the beginning of the episode, sets the tone for this episode. and it makes sense! such an unofficial video, which was very last-minute, doesn’t necessarily need a ton of context. “wherever it would hypothetically make sense” is the place of this episode in the timeline.
thomas told us that, so if we take that at face value, this could possibly take place at any time in the timeline. he also told us not to overthink this. but uh. shut your fuck.
now, of course, this episode couldn’t possibly take place before the crofters episode. and since logan is shown still eating his jam, most people have reasonably assumed that this episode is chronologically right after crofters the musical. it may have been months in real life, but the tss timeline is separate, so it’s reasonable that this could be a post-crofters video.
and what would that mean? crofters the musical was released in april of 2018. deceit had been revealed two episodes prior, but lntao and the svs debacle was far yet to come. at first, this matches the video. it’s just the core four being friends! and they seem to get along a bit better than they would after pof.
but. “whenever it would make sense for this to happen,” as thomas said. does immediately post-crofters the musical really make sense? the more i looked, the more i found that it could be more complicated than that. in fact, i found some evidence that didn’t match up at all.
it’s likely that this all anecdotal evidence that doesn’t matter, and that i’m overanalyzing this and incorrect, but fuck it. it’s not that deep, but i can convince myself it is. here’s why i think this episode wasn’t that early on in the timeline, and my theory on what really happened.
my first hint was the whiteboard. patton doodles on the whiteboard while logan is talking, and it’s adorable, and i made a post listing all the things he draws. lots of puppies, hearts, and cute little smiley faces. and janus, peeking out from the side and saying “boo.”
which does make sense, technically? deceit did exist by crofters the musical. and he’s shown in a very sneaky, negative way, at least to some extent. he’s definitely not holding hands with the others. so that seems to line up. but then:
in one corner is remus, labeled “smelly.”
and that doesn’t add up. because remus hadn’t been introduced yet. remus was not canonically part of tss at this point. so how did patton know about him?
obvious answer is obvious, of course, and it’s that patton could easily know about remus before dwit. all the sides recognize him when he shows up for the first time.
logan: ah. it’s the duke.
of course, it does the beg the question why patton would include two dark sides but not the third, if there is a third, but that’s a realm of pure speculation. things still kinda seem to add up.
but they’re off just enough for me to dig deeper. why would patton, who barely knows janus canonically and long before dwit, include them on the board?
and then i saw this:
that’s a video game controller, drawn in green.
and again. could be a coincidence. but to me, it felt like a nod to the events of pof, with the video game theme and the green marker, a la his frog transformation. add that to remus and janus’ presence on the board? it’s beginning to look a bit more possible that patton knows more than he’s supposed to.
“whenever it would make sense for this to happen.” but it’s making less and less sense for this to happen when i thought it did.
could this video reasonably be after pof? it seems ridiculous, because the sides get along way better than they should after pof. shouldn’t roman and patton be feuding? shouldn’t virgil and patton be more snappish?
except this video, despite the lack of arguing, is extremely confrontational in other ways. they end up yelling by the end! all four of them! and their ideas, while not outright hostile, are still in contrast. more so than it appears at first.
virgil jokingly includes roman in his ad, while roman chooses logan, and logan chooses patton, and patton chooses virgil. virgil isn’t hostile to roman, besides calling him a nerd, and roman genuinely seems interested in talking to logan. but virgil is extremely on edge with patton, especially at the “kid” comparison, and bristles during the whole scene.
and that lines up with their current dynamic! virgil and patton are currently super tense, which started in embarrassing phases after virgil became uncomfortable with patton babying him. patton stopped calling him kiddo after that. embarrassing phases is after crofters the musical.
return of the jam? no use of the word kiddo, and tension when patton treats virgil like his son.
and! and yes, roman and patton don’t argue, but they don’t talk, either. roman doesn’t put patton in his ad. he chooses logan instead. virgil--who is on good terms with roman after pof--talks with roman, and logan works with patton but barely acknowledges him, acting like he wants to impress patton. these dynamics fit easily into the post-pof situation, or at least, a reasonable imagined consequence.
and.
roman: how does it feel to want?
a joke, maybe, a throwaway line. but it makes me think.
janus: everything has a purpose. and you're denying yours. you want that callback so bad, and it will crush you if we miss it.
selfishness versus selflessness.
thomas: i want to go to the callback... and now i want to lie to my friends, so they don't hate me for not supporting them. i’m a liar.
selfishness versus selflessness again.
thomas: i don’t know when i’m going to know what i want again.
flirting with social anxiety.
roman: i so, so badly want this. i’m desperate for it.
flirting with social anxiety.
roman: you wanted to go to that callback more than you wanted to support your friends. the blame falls to me. if you are missing that do-gooder drive, i think it's because i'm in the driver's seat. and i'm an awful driver.
putting others first.
and, uh, i’m pretty sure i see a common thread. roman mentioning “wanting” like that? roman being so focused, in the jam episode, on “giving the people what they want?” roman consumed by this narrative of give and take? roman in a car?
okay, the last one’s a stretch, but my point still stands! this fits into roman’s characterization! this episode could have been after putting others first!
and then that begs the question: where’s janus? if him and patton are friends in-timeline, why isn’t he here? well, i made a post awhile back about the sunflowers and quote in patton’s house, which i chose to believe meant it was janus’ house.
and yeah, it’s a ridiculous theory, but also? if this is post-pof, it would actually make sense for patton to be in janus’ room. or to subconsciously put reminders of janus around him. the ads are about what they want, right? what they’re comfortable with? if patton and janus are friends now, or at least on better terms, it makes sense that patton would include a hint or two of janus in his ideal scenario.
oh, and there’s one more drawing on the whiteboard i want to point out. as patton is rushing to scribble down logan’s words, more doodles are added to the whiteboard. including this:
of course, it’s hard to tell, but to me that looks like a face with swirling eyes. drawn in yellow. and maybe it’s just representing patton’s overwhelmed feelings--but maybe it references something else entirely.
my first thought? it reminds me of hypnosis or mind control. and if it’s referring to janus controlling patton, why would patton draw that? except: this is the imagination. maybe patton doesn’t control everything. maybe roman does.
roman, who after the events of pof, could reasonably believe that janus manipulated or controlled patton.
and the yellow eyes aren’t the only hint at janus! an interesting thing throughout the whole video? everyone’s extremely blunt. i can’t name a single time someone blatantly lied in the whole video. and yes, it’s super short and fluffy, but that’s still notable! the closest thing to a lie? logan’s line near the end.
patton: we have to say the thing!
thomas: oh! yes, we do! Logan?
logan: i don’t even know what you’re talking--crofters. the only jelly i will put in my belly.
cute moment, right? but logan starts to lie, then cuts himself off before he finishes the lie. like he doesn’t want someone to hear, or he isn’t allowed to lie. throughout the whole video, no one ever completes a lie.
“but,” i hear you cry, “isn’t the whole thing technically a lie? since they’re creating false realities?” well, yes, and also no. to use the series’ definition, acting is not lying, because everyone involved knows that it is a false story. this episode mirrored the am i original episode, in which creating scenarios fell under the realm of “brainstorming.”
which, again, was canonically roman’s idea. and roman’s power to do.
roman: i ask you this, thomas: allow me the chance to really prove myself! grant me full creative control!
thomas: you're my creativity. you have all the creative control.
virgil: no, he’s talking about full-on daydream mode.
the crofters episode is extremely similar to daydream mode. @limitededitionsanderssidesblog even pointed out that roman is the only side who has no animated transition between his ad and the others, showing that he is in more control of the imagination than the others are.
except logan begins the daydream sequence, not roman.
roman even acts upset about this later on, when he takes control of the brainstorm to try his own advertisement. “i’ll show you how it’s done,” he tells virgil, “like i was meant to from the start.” why was he meant to create an advertisement from the start? and then, why didn’t he? why didn’t roman start the imagination sequence?
or maybe he did, and we just didn’t realize.
every conversation the sides have with thomas is, in actuality, imaginary. thomas is sitting on his couch with his eyes closed, like janus pointed out. so there’s a certain level of suspension of disbelief that every episode starts out with. they conjure stuff, create scenarios, interject in the shape of text boxes--you just have to get used to it.
but there are these small details, if you look closely and discount the imagination factor, that don’t add up.
logan starts out the episode eating a jar of crofters jam. (disgustingly, i might add. my man cannot eat jam correctly.) he eats almost the whole thing, then shows up in the next frame with another jar of jam, uneaten.
as logan talks, patton scribbles on the board and tries to write things down. the whiteboard, like i said earlier, gains a few doodles as he continues. we don’t see him pause to doodle at all. we barely see most of the colored markers that he’s used. and he starts with a doodle-covered whiteboard, despite the ad only just starting, but seems to write everything by hand.
nobody is driving roman’s car. it backs up when roman wants it to, and accelerates when he wants it to, but he isn’t the driver.
virgil is relaxed, but he has deep, deep eyeshadow.
logan is excited when there will be more logansberry, but he just finished eating some, and he can summon more. it’s reasonable for him to be excited, but the chronology falls apart if this is close to crofters the musical.
everyone knows what everyone else did in their ad. thomas is aware of everything, but is able to call crofters and negotiate with them while not paying attention. all the sides change the scene at will. in am i original, they all participated at once, and only roman could change it back.
thomas calls crofters in like three minutes and confirms the offer. he doesn’t show up in the imaginary ads. he doesn’t try to stop them from arguing. it almost feels like he doesn’t exist at all.
and on their own, each of these can be easily explained. together, well, they probably can still be explained. but. these little inconsistencies fueled my growing theory.
this episode takes place “whenever it would make sense for it to happen.” it’s after crofters the musical, except it might not be. it’s an am-i-original-style brainstorm, except it doesn’t work the same. all the sides are friends, except they aren’t.
“whenever it would make sense for it to happen”? well, what if it didn’t happen at all?
there are so many little inconsistencies in the timeline. there are so many odd background details. there are so many questions, because if we don’t take this fluffy unimportant video at face value, it becomes harder and harder to understand it. it’s a short ad for jam. and in-universe, it makes no sense.
except it’s an exploration of imagination. it’s roman’s world. and roman, the brainstormer, the creative side, can make anything look like it really happened.
patton: you try to come up with a perfect commercial when you’ve got an extreme teen to deal with.
virgil: pat, none of that was real.
what if roman made the scenario up from the start? what if roman never had to start or end the imaginary segments because all of it was imaginary? because he was in control the whole time?
this episode makes the most sense after pof. roman may have placed swirly eyes on patton’s whiteboard. roman wanted his own jam. roman wanted a comforting, happy scenario, where all his friends got along and liked him. roman has control over the imagination.
but why would roman drag the other sides into it? they aren’t all fake, since they interact without roman there--right?
characterization is a tricky, tricky thing. and to me, none of the sides acted extremely out of character. but patton disagrees vocally with logan, logan is dorky and excited, and virgil is so confident that he reminds me of roman in points. none of those are ooc necessarily. but they’re interesting.
and this entire episode is wish fulfillment for roman, in a way. it’s all about putting up appearances. it’s about doing what the people want and making them like you. it’s about an almost too perfect video where everything ends up fine even when things slip out of control in the middle.
don’t you think that would be roman’s perfect refuge? his own jam, his own ad, and even when the sides irritate him, it all comes back to him in the end. no consequences. just roman, on his own.
because fuck it. what if roman imagined the whole fucking thing?
“whenever it would hypothetically make sense for what’s about to happen, to happen.” the episode itself comes with a justification. it isn’t really canon compliant. it doesn’t fit with the timeline. but it has echoes, echoes of the world and the universe it’s trying to forget about.
roman gets so frustrated when the other sides mess things up. he was meant to take control from the start, he says. the episode ends suddenly. the episode is short and sweet and, in a way, too good to be true.
it’s not hard to imagine roman retreating to a fake scenario after pof. going full brainstorm mode with imitations of his friends and giving himself everything he’s wanted. and i think it’s sweet and sad that he didn’t just give himself a jam. he gave all of them a jam. he made a world where all his friends were happy.
a world where all his friends were happy with him.
and i know this is basically the plot of all i want is serenity. but shut your fuck. i make canon and canon is mine for the taking.
it’s a wild theory. it’s probably not true. but given all the strange contradictions and deeper implications of this episode, it’s at least a theory i can back up with evidence. i can convince myself of it, and that’s good enough for me.
the return of the jam doesn’t take place in canon, in or out of the tss universe. it’s a fluffy side adventure in roman’s head, where he keeps everyone from lying and tones down the fighting and makes up a video where he gets what he wants. roman doesn’t need to start or end each scene. he’s directing the whole fucking play.
and where does he end up at the end of the episode? unconscious on the floor, smiling to himself, saying that he’s got his own jam.
it’s almost an identical position to dwit, when remus knocked him out. and based on roman’s sleep-talking, we know while he was unconscious, he dreamed. he can make things up in his own head. he can indulge in a fantasy or two. he can create detailed, personal brainstorms that nonetheless fall flat in important, logical ways.
i’m not saying that roman did make this whole episode as a comfort after pof. i’m not saying that he did imagine a scenario where he finally got his own jam. i’m not saying that he did imagine his friends happy, joking, and supportive. and i’m not saying that he did fail to fully imagine that, because he lost control, because he couldn’t convince himself.
i’m not saying any of that.
but i’m saying it’s a pretty fun possibility.
#sanders sides#roman sanders#patton sanders#logan sanders#virgil sanders#janus sanders#remus sanders#averywrites#hdghGSHGSJS oh boy i feel nervous abt posting this#half of it's from my drafts from a week ago#and the rest i just banged out rn#i have no idea if it's coherent#or if anyone cares#probably not but you know what i like this theory and i'm gonna yell about it#do i think this is actually what happened? absolutely not#do i think it would have been cool? a hundred percent#am i going to use this in a fic at some point? you saw nothing#tw food#long post#tw unreality#to write later
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The echoey hallway
a/n: quick note, this is 100% a rant fic. I have been upset by something and this is my way of getting it out. As it says in the warnings this is a description of a pretty intense panic attack, please don’t read if that would bother you <3333
Pairings: platonic or romantic Moceit, slightly toxic platonic lamp (not really their just oblivious)
Warnings: panic attack, self deprecating thoughts, food, toxic mindsets, slight disassociation due to a panic attack, hurt/comfort, angst w/ a happy ending, feeling like a burden (mood ngl), violence mention, cursing
Word count: 1,200
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Patton curled into himself. His arms wrapped around his chest as he sobbed violently. Heavy breathing filled his ears, forcing out any other sound. His entire face was slick with tears, glasses coated in the slime.
He had tried so hard.
Morality was responsible for taking care of the other sides, dark, light, whatever, they were all his kiddos. He had an obligation to them, of course it was an obligation that he loved! But that didn’t mean he was good at it.
They had all been uncomfortable around each other since Janus’ acceptance. But Patton and his famILY were working on better communication and over the past few moths Janus had become a reluctant part of the group.
Which was why Patton was so exited when Roman asked to take him to a show in the imagination. They were singing one of the new songs that Roman had worked so hard on and from what Patton had heard it was really good.
So of course when the day of the performance arrived and Patton woke up in a blanket of misery. Even getting out of bed had been a hassle and by the time he managed to pull himself downstairs, the others were all awake.
The mask had slipped on so easily at first. Patton smiled and joked his way through breakfast, making it as fast as he could to accommodate for the time he had wasted in bed.
It was only when Roman reminded him of the day that he faltered. They had all looked at him in concern, Patton had felt sick, it wasn’t their job to care about his problems but he could barely function as it was. A trip to the imagination would be torture.
Roman had looked so crushed.
He left without eating anything. Virgil left quickly after to check on him. Good, at least Roman wasn’t alone. Logan went off to work barely glancing at Patton as he left.
That was when Patton broke.
He made it halfway to his room before the attack hit him, he crumpled into the corner of the hallway. His sobs bounced the hallway as he cried alone.
If only he wasn’t so fucked up, why did his family even put up with him? He couldn’t do his job right, he couldn’t be there for the others, he couldn’t do one. fucking. thing. without hurting someone else.
He understood now why Virgil wanted to duck out.
Virgil was wrong of course, they needed him. The emo could be gloomy, but he always did his best to protect the others and Thomas. He was an essential part of the group, Virgil knew that now. Patton on the other hand couldn’t take care of his family or steer Thomas in the right direction without hurting the person he was supposed to be helping. They would all be so much better without him.
Patton heaved as his breathing picked up. His whole body was shaking, he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t see.
Everything hurt, he hurt everything.
Patton wasn’t sure how long he sat like this. Nothing felt real, he wasn’t even sure if he was still crying. Patton was sure this was how he was going to die, if it was maybe he deserved it.
Something broke him out of his trance slightly, “-hear me?” a voice said through Patton breathing. it was barely a wispier to him but a jot of panic flowed through Patton’s veins. despite being barely coherent he was present enough to register that this was not a state he wanted anyone to see him in.
The shaking side crawled away from the figure crouched in front of him. Patton pressed his back up to the wall, blinking his eyes open only to slam them closed again. Janus looked so worried, he shouldn’t be. It’s not his job to worry about Patton, it’s no one’s job. No one needs that kind of burden.
“Patton,” Deceit said softly, “may I touch you?” he asked holding his bare hands up as non-threateningly as possible.
Patton made a horrible choked noise but nodded. Janus sprung into action scooping the moral side into his arms and pulling them both into Patton’s room only a few yards away, as they walked Janus reminded Patton of the breathing exercise Virgil used in his moments of panic.
He carefully placed the shaking side on a pile of pillows. Patton seemed to have calmed down a bit but he was far from better.
Janus summoned two cups of hot-coco and placed them next to the fort. He sat quietly next to Patton who crawled into his lap holding onto Janus like a lifeline, Janus wrapped all six arms around the side. The two lay there for a few moments before Janus handed Patton his cup, the moral side took it numbly and held it to his chest.
“Hey, darling” Janus began, “I know you’re still out of it but talking about it could get some of it off your chest,” he said softly. Patton let out a shaky breath, “I know” he murmured. “I don’t want to bother you” he mumbled into Janus’ chest, flinching when Jan inhaled sharply.
“Why would you bother me Pat?” he asked tensely. “S’ not your job to take care of me”. Janus made a face, “Isn’t it?”. Patton shook his head, “Sweetheart, I’m self-preservation. It is exactly my job to take care of you” Patton made a noise but Janus continued, “It’s our job actually, everyone’s. And it’s not a job, more like a…”
“moral obligation?” Patton finished with a bitter laugh at the pun. “I was going to say that it was nicer than a job. Taking care of you isn’t a bad thing, just as you taking care of us isn’t a bad thing” Janus paused, “It’s not right?”
“No! Of course not!” Patton cried, sitting up a little, “It’s my favorite thing about being a part of Thomas” Janus nodded smiling, “even though I’m not good at it, making you all happy makes me so happy” Janus’ smile evaporated, “what do you mean not good at it?”
Patton looked a little embarrassed, “well ya know, I keep messing things up with Thomas and Roman-” Patton cut himself off with a sob. Janus pulled him back into an embrace sighing heavily. “Patton, I don’t know what happened with Roman but I am sure he will get over it. He loves you so much, we all do. I have no idea where you got the idea that you aren’t doing a good job. Even with Thomas, you’re learning. Adapting yourself to meet the needs of others as well as yourself is not an easy thing. But you’re doing a great job, I’m so sorry we haven’t told you that”
“Don’t be sorry” Patton mumbled still pressed against Janus’ chest. “I am and you can’t stop me,” Janus said smiling down at Patton who let out a tiny giggle, progress.
“Do you want me to stay here or should I go beat up Roman?” Janus asked seriously. “Stay” Patton yawned, “And no violence”. Janus’ expression was so ridiculously soft, “of course dear heart. No violence, just threats” Patton hummed, “we’ll get there” he murmured half asleep already. Janus laughed, “we will Pat, we will,” he said brushing his fingers through Patton’s curls.
#sanders sides fanfiction#sander sides#sanders sides#ts moceit#platonic moceit#moceit#ts patton#patton sanders#ts Janus#janus sanders#platonic drlamp#ts virgil#virgil sanders#ts roman#roman sanders#ts logan#logan sanders#tw panic attack#hurt/comfort#angst w/ a happy ending#tw violence mention#tw self deprecation#tw food#thomas sanders
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Productivity
Prompt: if you’re still open to prompts could you write some Roman-centric hurt/comfort? Maybe with him overworking himself and Logan finding him?
Thanks for the prompt, babe!
Read on Ao3
Pairings: Logince, can be platonic or romantic you decide, implied mociet, implied parental anxciet and moxiety
Warnings: Roman’s pretty hard on himself, so self-doubt, self-destructive tendencies, can be interpreted as self-harm if you squint but nothing graphic/explicit, self-esteem issues, sympathetic dark sides
Word Count: 5850
Roman is loud. Roman is extra. Roman is brimming with all the trimmings and trappings of an extravagant parade and it is impossible to ignore him when he walks into a room.
After all, when you’ve only got 0.5% of a day to make yourself count, you learn not to let a single second of it slip by.
Roman has to be perfect for that 0.5%. He can’t slip up even once or he risks that 0.5% slipping away entirely. He has his ideas, he has his witty barbs prepared, he has his improv skills ready, and he never stops moving. Which means the other 99.5% has to be used very wisely.
He has to get the ideas thought up, drafted, edited, and ready to be passed off. He has to be primped and coiffed and never look for a second that he’s been caught off guard. He has to work.
Logan’s the one with the schedule, anyone will tell you that. It’s up on his wall, perfectly ordered and color-coded with half a dozen dry erase markers and post-its next to it, all ready to go the instant it needs to be adjusted. Logan’s discipline is evident in the way he speaks, dresses, acts, it’s right there for the world to see.
Roman’s discipline is in the hours and hours he spends in front of his computer, or with a pen in his hand, or with the sword at his side. It’s in the way his fingers beat out anxious rhythms against the keys or forget what letters are supposed to look like halfway through writing a word. It’s in the way he can sit down for six hours and write and write and write until his eyes are strained but the words are here.
Patton worries when that happens, knocking on Roman’s door with his voice full of concern, food, water, even just a hug. Roman always hollers at him to come in only to bounce from one corner of the room to the next as he tries to figure out what to write next, how to hit the next plot point, or barely looks up from his frantic typing as he assures Patton that yes, he’s fine, thank you for asking, yes, he’s taken breaks, he’s just so close to a stopping point then he’ll give him a hug, okay? Patton leaves reassured and Roman’s fingers fly. He doesn’t come by that often so it’s okay.
He can’t start tasks and not finish them. He has so much to do that it’s not worth starting one thing and leaving it off because he’ll forget it. Better to sit there and see something all the way to the end than get interrupted and start something else and risk forgetting what he was going to do. So he has to work through it, get into that zone where all he has to think about is the rhythmic click-click-click of the keyboard and making sure his words machine is going going going. And if that means sometimes he looks up and it’s only been ten minutes or he looks up and it’s been a whole hour, well. Push through. Once he’s in the zone he can just go. It’s just a matter of getting there.
Roman’s quite proud of the way he’s built his schedule, if he does say so himself. Once he gets into the zone and works he can get all the projects he needs to get done in a day dusted and dried, set aside for review or further brainstorming. After all that, it’s normally near his 0.5% time, so he dusts himself off and wears that big smile and rides the high of a job well done to fuel his princely persona until the 0.5% is over. If it’s just dinner, it’s done by the time the meal is over. If he’s spending a little time with the others, they normally tire of him before it runs out. If it’s movie night, well…it’s dark. And he can sit away from everyone else.
It’s a very efficient system. Logan would be proud.
Except, well…
Okay. Here’s the thing.
Roman’s Creativity, yes, but he’s also Passion, Desire, Romance, a lot of things.
He’s also the Ego.
That makes him…squishy.
It’s not that he can’t take criticism, far from it—criticism and feedback is one of the things that makes everyone better. It’s just that he…okay, this is going to sound really stupid, but he’s just…he’s just very bad at receiving any sort of feedback, okay?
Compliments are wonderful and make his chest all warm and fuzzy but they also make his face flush redder than his sash and make him want to be very, very small. Positive feedback makes him want to skip to the end to find out what else he needs to do or shrink away from the bright spotlight he’s suddenly found himself in.
No feedback is awful. He wants to make a difference, to do something, talk about something with someone. He wants to be here, to be present, to talk and listen and create. He can’t create in an empty room.
Constructive criticism is…hard.
It’s so fucking stupid. He knows everything isn’t perfect. Nothing’s ever really finished, it just gets to a point where you’ve used it to say what you need it to say at that moment and you let it go. And he needs help to get it there before he gives it up, he knows this, he knows this.
And it’s not even that it comes as only things he needs to work on. It’s always both strengths and weaknesses—sorry, things that could be better—it’s not like it's just a pile of ‘stuff you did wrong.’
And most of the time it’s good feedback. It makes him a better creator, helps him understand his audience more. And it’s genuinely really insightful, like they obviously took time to understand the work and think about it and want it to be more like what he wants it to do. They care and it’s obvious and it shows and Roman really should understand this because he makes fun of the things that he loves.
So why, please, Roman would like to know, why is he hunched over his desk with his head on a book as his throat tears itself raw?
His lungs are screaming at him to get air and he’s gasping at nothing, his nose way too stuffed up to do anything other than dribble horrifically all over his work. His gaze is focused on nothing. The letters in front of him blur into meaningless black squiggles. Spit drips out the side of his lips. His hands clutch at nothing. And his chest aches so so bad.
One of his hands comes up to clutch at the front of his costume. The sash groans in protest. He can hardly feel the indents of his knuckles. He pushes harder. It still just hurts. Why does it hurt?
He spent six hours writing this idea from scratch. He poured over and over this thing until his eyes felt like they were going to fall out of his head and he worked so hard. And he—he thought he did good.
It’s did ‘well,’ Roman.
Roman winces, another wave of—oh hey, he’s crying. When did that happen?—another wave of tears spilling behind his eyes, making them ache too.
It was the only idea of the last batch that everyone wanted and—and Thomas asked for it to be done and he wanted to have time to work on the other things that Thomas wasn’t sure about and make it so Virgil didn’t have to stress about everything and he worked so hard on it and it was—he thought it was good and he’s being so fucking ridiculous right now.
Logan has said parts of it were good. He’d complimented Roman on how much he’d been able to write in such a short amount of time. He’d asked if Roman would want to talk about some of this stuff in greater detail at a later time because he’d been interested and obviously Roman had opinions and things to say about it.
And that counts for something, or at least it should.
But…but Logan had also said that the framework was wrong.
The framework was wrong. That—that was the whole point of the story. The framework was supposed to convey the message and the message was supposed to come across and it doesn’t matter that Logan thought some of the stuff was good because it was made to suit the framework that Roman thought they wanted but it’s not which means he has to rework the whole thing entirely because it’s not what they wanted and—
And Logan said it should be reorganized which is not how a story works because he can’t just cut and paste things to fit where he wants them because he has to make sure it works and it makes sense and if he has to rewrite the structure and the message then he—he—
He has to start over.
A wracked sob tears its way out of Roman’s throat, right into the pages of the book. Six hours. Six hours. Down the fucking drain. He could’ve—he could’ve spent that time doing other things or fixing other things or—
Or, he thinks bitterly, one hand still clutched to his aching chest, you could’ve just done it right the first fucking time.
God, he’s going to have to do so much work to catch up. He’s—he’s going to have to put off writing that short story, making sure that idea was polished, making sure that—
He has so much work to do.
By the time he raises his head from the book, his head is tingling. His fingers lose sensation as he moves and his entire chest feels like it's held together by the weakest threads. He has to let his head drop back to the gross wet spot he’s left in the book just to avoid a horrible head rush. A few slow, shuddering breaths later, and he sits back in his chair.
He’s actually quite proud of himself, he thinks absentmindedly as he looks for his tissue box. He does remember when he started crying. It was during the feedback with Logan.
Logan said that entire sections needed to be cut. Something in Roman’s chest had snapped when he heard that. They were…this story was his darling.
They’re all his darlings, but this one, so new, so…so fresh was still living in his chest, right next to his heart.
His voice hadn’t slipped once. Even as tears ran down his face he hadn’t slipped. Then Logan had realized it was later than expected and apologetically left Roman in the common space. Had to get to another meeting. That was fine. Roman could get away with a much terser goodbye and Logan didn’t look too hard at his face.
He has so much work to do.
If he puts it off he’s never going to want to pick it up again and the dread of it will poison him. Poison Thomas. He can’t have that. They’re already behind schedule. He’s already behind schedule.
If he starts doing this now he won’t be able to stop. He’s not in the right space and he doesn’t know if he can force himself into the one he needs to be in. Just the thought of looking at his notes, with the handwriting getting worse and worse is enough to make his fingers tremble. The thought of looking at Logan’s precise comments in bright, bold, unmistakably incorrect red pinches right under his throat.
It’s alright, Roman. You’ve done good work. Especially for a rough draft.
This wasn’t supposed to be a rough draft.
He glances at the clock. It’s been too long. He has to do something.
He doesn’t wash his face off or drink water. He doesn’t eat. He has somewhere to be in half an hour and he has to do something.
Roman’s fingers are clumsy on the keyboard. The words aren’t words. He opens the draft and shakily creates a copy. He can’t hurt his sweetheart. He can’t.
He can maim the fuck out of a copy, though.
Each section that disappears in a merciless click of the delete button makes the ache in his chest worse. So much work. So much time. So much of Roman. Gone. Not right. Worthless.
He has so much work to do.
Roman pointedly covers the clock on his computer with a folded up post-it note and sets an alarm for when he needs to get ready to go meet with Remus. He puts his head down and works, blinking when he can’t see the screen through his tears. He…he can’t make this work, not with the corrections that Logan wants, not with the time he needs to make up. He has to start over, almost completely, which means back to the drawing board. New outline, new readings, new interpretations, new everything. Because it’s not what they wanted and Roman has to be what they want.
Two minutes until he has to go meet with Remus he gets up and blows his nose. Quick glance in the mirror, it doesn’t look like he’s been crying. Grab what he needs to. Make sure this is in fact what he’s supposed to do.
Roman’s one act of true cowardice is making sure Janus isn’t around.
Remus doesn’t notice anything wrong, and if he does, he doesn’t say anything.
Good.
—————————————————————
Logan sighs, adjusts his glasses, and closes his laptop. It’s been a productive day and he has precisely thirteen minutes before he’s required downstairs to bake with Patton. They’re making blueberry muffins tonight, as requested, and Logan has secured permission to be absent from the movie marathon.
He gets up and makes his way to his schedule wall, picking up his pack of markers as he goes. Light blue for Patton, dark blue for himself, purple for Virgil, yellow for Janus, green for Remus, and red for Roman. He frowns, noticing that he has to press a little harder than anticipated to get Virgil’s marker to show up.
Logan sinks out to Remus’s room, ducking a chunk of flying viscera and quickly conjuring an umbrella for himself.
“Remus?”
“That is me,” Remus cackles, hanging upside down from…what looks to be a chandelier constructed entirely out of viscera and a partially decomposed sperm whale skeleton. His face appears under the brim of Logan’s umbrella. “What brings you here?”
“Do you still have the pack of markers I lent you?”
“No! I used those up ages ago.”
Logan pinches the bridge of his nose. “Dare I ask why?”
“You remember how we talked about how if you do the simple science experiment of emptying a highlighter into water then putting flowers in it to make them glow in the dark?”
“...yes?”
“Did you know you can do the same with octopuses?”
…now, we don’t have time to unpack all of that…
“Enjoy your chandelier, Remus,” Logan sighs, sinking out and promptly disposing of the umbrella. He adjusts his tie and makes sure nothing splattered his glasses and starts toward Roman’s room. He would ask Patton but that might lead to starting the baking earlier than expected and, if he’s being honest, Logan does not currently have the wherewithal to do that quite so soon. He just needs to pick up a new purple marker and go back to his room.
He doesn’t actually know what he expected to find.
Maybe it was a Roman sprawled across his bed, idly toying with something, or across the floor with several pens strewn about him. Or at the computer, laughing at the screen with his feet up or fiddling with something.
Maybe it was an empty room, Roman in the Imagination, or even Roman upset about some of the comments he’d made earlier.
He knocks on the door and frowns when it creaks open.
“Roman?”
Logan pushes the door open and looks around. Roman’s not here. There’s water running in the bathroom. He knocks on the door louder.
“One moment!”
The bathroom door opens and Roman appears. “Logan. Is there something wrong?”
“One of my pens has dried up and I’m seeking a replacement.”
Something flashes across Roman’s face too quick to accurately pinpoint and in a flash, a new pack of markers sits in Roman’s hand.
“Thank you.”
Roman nods and turns, sitting at his desk and shuffling through a few papers. When Logan doesn’t move for a few moments, Roman looks back up.
“…is there something else?”
“No, I just…” Logan tilts his head. “Are you alright, Roman?”
“I’m performing within acceptable limits,” Roman jokes, even as his smile doesn’t reach his eyes, “just…trying to get this done before the z—um. Before we have to go downstairs. Thanks for baking for tonight, I, uh, I know you won’t be staying for the movies so I should probably say thank-you now, right?”
“Roman,” Logan interrupts softly, “Roman, what were you going to say?”
“Hmm?”
“You cut yourself off. You were going to say ‘before’ something that wasn’t going downstairs.”
“Was I?”
“Roman.”
Roman’s fingers falter on the keyboard for barely a second. “Don’t you want to get in some more rest before baking,” he tries, “I know you’ve expressed that helps you before.”
“I would, but I would also like to know what you were going to say.”
Roman worries his bottom lip. “…can’t I just finish working, please?”
Logan looks around. Something is wrong.
The door barely squeaks as Logan shuts it, glancing around to make sure no one else is sneaking by or within earshot. He turns back just in time to see Roman recovering from a horrible flinch. Without meaning to, a soft comforting noise escapes his throat.
“Roman, what’s—“
“I’m fine, Specs.”
“Yes, I can tell from that tone of voice that you are completely and utterly fine.”
“You know I’m pretty sure sass is an emotional response.”
The corner of his mouth quirks up and he walks closer, setting the pack of markers down on the corner of Roman’s desk and folding his hands in front of him.
“Roman,” he tries again, “what’s wrong?”
Roman’s hands tighten into fists on his keyboard. He barely glances up at Logan. “It’s nothing, Specs.”
“If it’s upsetting you it’s not nothing.”
“It’s nothing you need to be concerned about.”
“It’s upsetting you, Roman, that means it’s something for me to be concerned about.”
Roman huffs. “Give me a little credit, Logan, I promise I can operate under distress without compromising Thomas or the rest of you, I’ve had enough practice.”
“…I must admit I’m not sure if you expect me to be reassured by that.”
Silence.
The clock in the hallway ticks.
Roman takes a deep breath and rolls his shoulders back. “The 0.5%.”
“Excuse me?”
“The 0.5%, Logan,” Roman repeats, “that’s what I was going to say.”
Logan frowns. What—why would Roman say—0.5% of what?
Roman gives him a disbelieving smile when Logan cautiously broaches that question. “You should know, Specs. Your chart, remember?”
Logan’s eyes widen. “Roman, what—what does that have to do with this?”
“What does the fact that you’ve only given me 0.5% of each day to run things have to do with me being upset?”
“Roman you—you’re allowed to do things, I didn’t mean it like that, I just—“
“Stop, Logan,” Roman says with a soft fury, reaching out to lay his hand on Logan’s arm only to stop. His hand closes into a fist and returns to his side. Goosebumps raise on Logan’s arm and he suddenly feels very, very cold.
“Stop,” he says again, “it doesn’t matter how you meant it. I understand.”
“But clearly you don’t,” Logan protests, “if you believe that you are only allowed to exist for 0.5% of each day—“
“That’s not it, Logan.” Roman turns in his chair. “I get 0.5% to exist around you each day.”
“I don’t see the difference!”
“It means I have to perform for 0.5% a day.”
Perform.
Logan’s mind stutters to a halt. No. No, no, Roman…
“Roman,” he starts, “Roman, why are you doing so much work?”
“Well, when you only have 0.5% of a day to present, you’d better have some damn good stuff, shouldn’t you? After all, it’s not like you’ll get much time to talk it through before you have to—“
“Not…not just that,” Logan interrupts, “why did you call it ‘performing?’”
Roman stares up at him, his head tilted to the side. “…do you actually believe that I’m…like that?”
The fact that the ‘yes’ came so readily to the tip of his tongue makes Logan sick.
“When you only have so little time,” Roman mumbles, “if I don’t…if I don’t take up all the space I can for that amount of time, I’m afraid it will just…slip away.”
Before Logan can even begin to talk about how awful that is, Roman blusters on.
“That’s why I have to get back to work. I have to get this done before the 0.5% starts so I can make the most of it. Thought you’d be happy, Specs,” Roman says, flashing the fakest smile Logan’s ever seen, “about how efficient I’m being.”
Logan is many things right now, and ‘happy’ is not any of them. His mouth opens and closes, trying to look for words, for something, anything to try and override this, make Roman see sense, make Roman see—
He stops.
Roman wasn’t expecting him. He’s been surprised.
His hands are shaking as they type. He keeps having to hit the backspace key. There are twitches in his arms that aren’t normally there and he keeps trying to scoot away from Logan.
Logan reaches out to cover one of Roman’s hands.
Roman flinches so hard he almost knocks his laptop off of the desk.
“You’re panicking,” Logan murmurs, “take a deep breath.”
He holds Roman still until some of the mania goes out of his eyes. He lifts his hand away.
“That’s enough work for today.”
“What? No, no, I’m so behind, I have so much work to do, I have to—“
“What have you done today, Roman?”
“Not nearly enough, I have to—“
Then Logan catches sight of a stack of paper with red annotations. He frowns, moving around Roman to take a look, ignoring the soft noise of protest. This is the feedback he gave Roman earlier, these are his annotations, that’s his red pen he uses for Roman, that’s…
…oh.
Oh, no.
No, no, no, no…
“Roman,” he murmurs, turning to look at him, “why is this wet?”
Roman takes a breath and Logan blinks.
Roman looks so small.
“…I have so much work to do.”
Something in Logan hurts. Think. Think. Think.
He glances around frantically, spotting a stack of looseleaf paper. Aha.
“Roman,” he manages around the lump in his throat, “if we make a list of things that you have to or have already done today, will that help?”
Roman nods, watching as Logan hurries to grab a sheet of paper and fetch the red pen out of the marker box. “…do we have to use red?”
Logan pauses, yet to uncap it. “Is there something wrong with red?”
The costume makes a few rustling noises as Roman shifts in the chair. Logan holds out the pen until the cap lies next to the bright red sash on Roman’s chest. “Red’s your color, isn’t it?”
“…wait, that’s why you always use red?”
“That’s why I use red for you.”
“…oh.”
As he makes the list, he keeps an eye on Roman. Has he…have they never truly looked at Roman? Logan’s sure Janus knows at least some of this, if not all of it, and Remus has absolutely no filter any of the time but especially not when it comes to Roman.
They’ll have to be better about that.
Roman’s face perks up a little when Logan finally passes him the list, only to fall almost as quickly when he sees the number of things on it. “L-Logan, I—“
“Have a look at each of them,” Logan interrupts softly, passing him the pen, “and mark off the ones that you’ve done already.”
“…am I supposed to do all of these today?”
“Ideally, yes.”
The grim look of resignation and determination on Roman’s face is enough to make Logan want to take it away, but he can’t. Not before Roman sees.
Sure enough, as Roman starts to scan down the list, his brow furrows. He glances up at Logan who simply nods toward it.
“Um…”
“Read out the ones you’re having trouble with,” Logan offers, “if you like.”
“…'get out of bed?’”
“Did you do that?”
“Yes?”
“Then cross it off.”
Bemused, Roman does. He consults the list again. “Are all of these—am I supposed to—“
Logan nods when Roman can’t finish his sentence. “Check off the ones you’ve done and then we’ll see how productive you’ve been today.”
It’s strange, Logan thinks as he watches Roman go down the list, he’s never been so…gentle like this before, especially not with Roman.
Maybe it’s time to be better about that too.
“All finished?”
“I think so…”
“How many do you have left?”
“Um, just…drink water, save current works, eat dinner, and, um…” Roman squints at the page, then up at Logan, “…receive emotional support.”
“Well, those don’t seem to be too difficult.” Logan folds his arms and smiles. “I’d say you’ve been very productive today.”
“But I need to rework the entire idea for tomorrow,” Roman argues, “I haven’t even made a dent in it, I—“
“Wait, why do you think you need to rework it completely?”
“…you said the framework was wrong and you need it reorganized. Which is fine,” Roman hastily defends, “you’re not wrong, but that basically means I have to start over.”
“You don’t have to start over, Roman,” Logan reassures, “and that’s not what I meant. Why don’t we check off the rest of the list now and then we can have a…redo of the feedback session tomorrow?”
“Logan, I’m really confused right now,” Roman blurts out, clutching the list like a lifeboat.
“What’s confusing?”
Logan takes a step closer, resisting the urge to smile when Roman doesn’t back away.
“…not that this isn’t appreciated,” Roman manages finally, “but I—you—you’ve never done this before.”
“Perhaps I didn’t realize that it was necessary.”
Wrong thing to say.
“Wait, you don’t have to—I can—I’ll be fine on my own—“
“Not what I meant, Roman, I am perfectly aware that you are capable of taking care of yourself,” Logan soothes, “but…it seems that my actions—or lack of actions, perhaps—has been hurting you. And I apologize for that.”
Roman swallows heavily, the list still wrinkled up in his hands.
“I want to have this conversation properly,” Logan murmurs, taking another step closer, “and when you feel comfortable enough to tell me what’s really going on. That’s not now, and that’s okay. Will you take my word if I tell you that you don’t need to do as much work on your story as you think you do?”
“…sure.”
“I’m pleased to hear that.” Logan gestures toward the door. “Why don’t you save your work and we’ll go downstairs?”
“Aren’t you baking with Patton in like—now?”
“I was, but Janus has also expressed interest in baking tonight, and…” Logan smiles. “I do not think he would be upset to learn that I wished to postpone for this reason.”
The smallest smile comes to Roman’s face. “…since when have those two been…”
“I don’t know.”
“Have you noticed that they— with Virgil—“
“Oh, don’t even get me started.”
“It’s like watching a sitcom sometimes, isn’t it?”
“Quite.”
It makes Roman chuckle and Logan feels his shoulders relax. Then something passes over his face again.
“What is it?”
“Nothing, nothing, it’s just the um, the last thing on the list of receiving emotional support…” Roman absentmindedly smoothes out the paper. “…don’t know how I’m going to get that if, um…well, movie night’s still a thing.”
…that is not the kind of emotional support Logan was referring to and they both know it.
“Well,” Logan says, adjusting his tie and valiantly ignoring the heat rushing to his face, “there is another option.”
Roman’s eyes widen. “…you’re serious?”
“Of course.”
“But you…when you ask off movie night, that’s—“
“Roman.”
Roman stops. Something flickers over his face. Logan frowns.
“What?”
“…you’ve said my name a lot today, Specs,” Roman mumbles, looking away.
“Is that a problem?”
Roman shrugs. “…kind of reminds me of when I, um, mess up.”
“…what?”
“You, um…” Roman fiddles with the list. “You don’t normally use my name unless you’re talking about me. And you don’t, uh, you don’t normally do that unless I’ve done something wrong. But that’s not your fault.”
“…thank you for telling me.” Logan tilts his head. “Is there something you would rather I call you instead?”
“Not particularly.”
“Princey?”
“No thanks.”
“Kiddo?”
“You’re not Patton.”
“No, it sounds strange, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah.”
“…I’m guessing Creativity would be…”
“…yeah.”
“I’ll think of something,” Logan murmurs, “but yes, I would be happy to spend the evening with you.” Roman still looks unsure. “Why the hesitation?”
“You don’t like being touched,” Roman blurts out, the list in his hands about to rip.
Ah.
Logan reaches forward and carefully extricates the list from Roman’s grasp. He sets it on the desk. Roman watches him, eyes wide, as Logan rests his hand on his shoulder.
“I don’t like being touched when I don’t expect it,” Logan says quietly, “or when it’s not on my terms. When it is…and especially when it’s helping someone, I don’t mind at all.”
Roman’s staring at his hand like he’s never seen it before. His shoulder feels so…small?
Is Roman shaking?
“Hey,” Logan calls softly, “hey, can you look at me?”
Roman doesn’t move.
“Come on, just…just look at me.”
Roman turns his head and oh—
“Oh, dear,” Logan breathes, his hand moving up on instinct to wipe away Roman’s tear, “oh, dear, it’s okay, it’s okay.”
Roman’s eyes fall shut as more tears brim on his lashes. He squeezes them tightly and turns his head, almost nuzzling into Logan’s palm, as if he doesn’t believe it’s really there.
Oh.
Oh.
Oh, no.
“You’re touch-starved,” Logan whispers, mostly to himself, stepping closer and cupping Roman’s face firmly.
“Haven’t exactly had time to—“ a breath rips itself out of Roman’s lungs as Logan pulls him closer— “to—to—I—you’re really warm, Logan…”
“You’ve been overworking yourself,” Logan says firmly, “and you don’t have to. Not ever again.”
Roman’s eyes flutter open cautiously, staring at Logan with such unabashed hope that it makes his throat clench.
“Hey,” he murmurs instead, “there you are.”
“…sorry.”
“No need to be.” Logan brushes away another tear. “Why don’t we go downstairs, get something to eat, something to drink, and then come back?”
Roman nods, but his eyes glaze over a little as Logan keeps stroking his cheek. Logan shakes his head, smiling fondly at him. Oh, Roman…
“Hey,” he calls again, giving Roman’s face a little shake, “hug me.”
“W-what?”
“Hug me,” Logan repeats, opening his arms, “come on…”
The time it takes for Roman to step forward and carefully, carefully place his arms around Logan’s shoulders like he’s afraid of ruining him feels like an eternity. As soon as it’s clear Roman’s not going to do any more than lightly rest the weight of his arms on Logan for just a moment, Logan moves.
He wraps his arms firmly around Roman’s waist and pulls him until they’re flush. He smiles a little at the gasp of surprise, only to soften instantly when Roman lets out a keen.
“I said hug me, dear heart,” Logan whispers, the pet name rolling off his tongue before he can stop it, “come on, now, you can do better than that.”
Poor Roman is shaking so badly Logan feels himself almost thrown off balance. He spreads his feet a little wider and holds him, rubbing his back and lifting his chin a little higher. Roman feels so small and cold in his arms that he doesn’t try and playfully coax him into hugging tighter. Instead, he hooks his chin over Roman’s shoulder and tightens his grip, softly encouraging him to breathe, to relax, it’s alright.
“That’s it,” he murmurs when Roman finally sags into his arms, “that’s it, dear heart, good, I have you, I have you.”
Roman turns his head into Logan’s neck and Logan makes a soft sound at the slight dampness. His arms still tremble slightly, but he’s leaning most of his weight onto Logan now, almost hanging off of him with the grip he has on his wrists.
“I’ve got you,” he promises, “I’ve got you.”
When his arms start to ache pleasantly from the strain of keeping his grip, Logan eases back, making sure to keep one hand on Roman’s face.
“If we stand here any longer we may fall asleep,” he whispers, “let’s go downstairs, and then we can come back, hmm?”
Roman, the poor thing, is so exhausted that all he can do is fall forward a little, just so their foreheads rest together. Logan chuckles.
“Just for dinner, then we’ll come back and I’ll cuddle you some more, okay?”
“…yeah, okay.”
“You can have a chance to hug me properly too, hmm?”
Roman huffs a laugh. “I’ll show you.”
“I’m sure you will, dear heart.” When the face against his suddenly grows much warmer, Logan tilts his head. “Is that alright? Dear heart?”
“Yeah, yeah, it’s alright. More than alright.”
“Then come on, dear heart, let’s get those last few things checked off the list, hmm?”
Patton, of course, has absolutely no objections. Virgil tips them a lazy two-fingered salute. Remus doesn’t quite tackle his brother into the wall but it’s close. Janus makes eye contact with Logan and gives him a nod. Right. They should talk too. But not tonight.
When Roman’s door closes again and Roman crosses the last item off the list, Logan takes it from him and sets it aside, holding out his arms.
“Come here, dear heart.”
This time, Roman wraps his arms around Logan without hesitation. Logan hides a smile in Roman’s shoulder as he sits them on the bed, lies them down, tucks Roman in close.
Roman is quiet. Roman is soft. Roman is an excellent cuddler. He fits perfectly into Logan’s arms. He’s perfect.
It’s been a very productive day.
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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.
#baekhyun smut#baekhyun fanfic#baekhyun#exo smut#exo fanfic#baekhyun x reader#baekhyun au#boyfriend bot#exo sci fi au#exo au#future au
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🎁🔥GUESS WHO?🔥🎁
Prompt: Y/N’s first day back to work from her vacation is also coincidentally her birthday, as the day goes by, one mysterious box is placed on her work table. The content of it is a devious surprise and Y/N needs to find out who is the mysterious person who dared to give her such a kinky birthday present.
Word count: Long-ish
Pairing: Roman Reigns x Reader
Warnings: +18, smut, bondage(handcuffs), use of a vibrator, fingering, rough sex, mentions of voyeurism, oral sex (female receiving), dirty talk, cursing.
My Roman lovers: @ziasaph, @reigns-5sos, @mindofasagittaruis
Notes: What a better way to start 2021, then with a Roman kinky fic?! I wish you all a Happy New Year loves, may 2021 be kinder to us all. Y’all know the drill loves,sorry for misspellings,english isn’t my first language (bla bla bla),check out my other stories if you’d like to(it would make your girl here very happy 😊) and if you’re comfortable with it,please let me know what you think? Some feedback is always welcomed and appreciated ❤️You can check out my other stories typing ‘masochist writes’ on the search bar on my page and my newest story as a fixed post.Okay,now let’s get to the fun part,shall we? Hope you’ll enjoy 😉
“Happy birthday, to you..” I turn around to the sound of a person singing, just to see Sasha Banks holding a chocolate cupcake and a present bag on her hands.
“Hi Sasha.” I smiled
“Happy birthday babe!” Sasha ran up to me, placing the cupcake on my working table and hugging me tightly.
“Thanks Sasha”
This was my first day back from my vacation, and coincidentally it was also my birthday, so I was excited to see some of the good friends I’ve made while working for the WWE as a chiropractor.
“Here this is for you!” Sasha handed me a present bag.
“Oh Sasha, you really didn’t have to-“
“Shush! I love you, so of course I would pamper you on your birthday” Sasha said as I opened the bag to find a pair of Louboutin’s I had my eyes on for quite sometime, but couldn’t afford it.
“Sasha, are you insane? I can’t accept these! It’s way too expensive!” I gasped
“I am perfectly sane, you will accept these and I don’t care if you think they’re too expensive! I love you, you’re one of my best friends in this company and a human being with a heart made of gold. So if there is someone who deserves these is you” She happily said
“Sasha, I don’t even know how to thank you enough” I whispered with tears on my eyes
“Just say you will be my friend forever babe” She winked
“I don’t need presents to be your friend love”
“That’s why I gave it to you. I don’t care how much they cost, I just want to make my best friend happy on her birthday”
I hugged her and whispered ‘thank you’ on her ear
“So, who else has came here today?” She asked
“Oh! Bayley, Charlotte, Xavier, Kofi, Cesaro, Big E, Alexa, Naomi, Jey, Becky, Seth, Finn, Renee and Dean” I said, listing my close friends
“I was the last one then? Damn it!”
“It’s ok, I know you were busy today love”
“So...no Roman?” She whispered
“No, no Roman” I answered slightly disappointed.
Sasha along with Bayley and Renee were the only 3 people who knew about my stupid crush on Roman Reigns. It’s so stupid of me to think that a man like him would ever look at someone like me.
If he would ever look at someone on this company, it wouldn’t be the thick girl who worked as a chiropractor and yes one of the beautiful toned Divas of this company.
But still I couldn’t help but daydream about having him on top of me.
“Maybe he doesn’t know it’s your birthday?” Sasha tried to make it less uncomfortable
“Really Sasha? He’s friends with Dean! Everybody knows Dean is an open mouth, loud as fuck and can’t keep it to himself not even if his life depended on it...Roman just chose to ignore it, and it’s fine. We’re not close or anything so, I wasn’t expecting him to show up at my office door and fuck me on top of this table” I lied while chuckling weirdly
“Let’s be honest babe, everybody secretly wants Roman Reigns to fuck them on top of a table!” We both laughed at her statement before she continued “It’s his loss anyways babe”
“Yeah I guess so...”
I was making my way back to my office, from the women’s locker room, when a big black box with a golden ribbon called my attention on top of my desk.
“What the hell?” I said as I approached the box carefully. All of my closest friends had already wished me a happy birthday and gave me their presents so this was, to say the least, weird and unexpected.
I saw a blood red card on top of it, so I opened to find the handwritten saying
‘I hope these will make your birthday night unforgettable. Can you guess who’ve bought these for you? ;)’
Ok, that’s pretty fucking weird! I thought
From the corner of my eye I saw Sasha passing by and loudly whispered
“Sasha! Come here”
She entered my office “What’s up girl? Are you ok? You look scared”
I closed my office door and locked, and made my way back to the table by her side.
“Ok, I’m feeling a little paranoid. I just came back to my office to find this box and this card. Here” I handed the card to her and she red silently.
“Did you look what’s inside of it?” Sasha said
“Nope. And to be honest I don’t know if I can..what if it’s like a prank or something?”
“Well, there’s only one way to find out Y/N”
She opened the box, inside of it there was a fancy red paper, I took it out of the way to reveal what was underneath it and I tell you I almost passed out.
Inside the box there was a lavender and purple (my favorite colors) vibrator, it was actually pretty cute...two pairs of handcuffs, lube, nipples clamps and a whip.
“Oh my gosh” Sasha gasped as she took the clamps on one hand and the whip on the other. “Someone wants to get kinky with you girl!” She examined the items carefully
“What in the actual fuck?” I whispered shocked “Give me that!” I took the items out of her hand, shoved back into the box and quickly closed with the black lid.
“Jesus, I can get fired if someone sees that in my office! Who the hell would do that?”
“Someone who wants to get some! And wants it rough” She chuckled
“Sasha it’s not funny! I could not have a job tomorrow morning if someone from the company found these”
“Who do you think did this?” She asked seriously
“How am I supposed to know? I have no fucking clue!”
“Maybe someone who’s name starts with an R...” She smirked
“R?... What ar-... Oh hell no! Nu uh, that’s impossible!” She couldn’t be implying that Roman was behind this, was he? No! Of course not, that’s a dumb thing to think of...but a part of me wished it was him, even though I know it wasn’t.
“Why impossible? You’re a gorgeous woman Y/N! You two would make a beautiful couple, plus, I‘ve seen his handwriting before and I’m pretty sure it’s quite similar to this one” She said as she inspected the card closely.
“Obviously someone wants to make fun out of me, so I’ll just pretend this never happened” I took the card out of her hand and shoved inside the box.
“Or someone has an eye on you for a while and decided to finally make a move”
“Sasha, please don’t tell this to anyone”
“Your secret is safe with me babe. Just promise that when your secret admirer finally show up, you’ll tell me if you guys made a good use of his presents” She laughed
“You’re the worst!” I laughed along
I made my way back to my hotel room later that evening with my hands so full of packages I could barely walk. I opened the door and carefully placed the bags, along with the black box, on the floor.
I went to the bed and sat down on the edge, while I stared at the box.
*Could Sasha be right? Could it be Roman who did this?* Was the only thought that crossed my mind
I decided to forget all about it and take a shower to wash off the day.
As I was rinsing my hair I heard some noise coming from the bedroom
*What the hell was that?*
I blamed on my super active mind and turned the shower off.
I got changed into some clean oversized t- shirt, and went full on commando. I was brushing my damp hair, when I decided to lay out the contents of the black box on the bed.
I roamed my eyes on each item slowly, until they stopped on the lavender and purple happiness. I turned the vibrator on and felt slightly tempted to use it.
*Oh fuck it! Happy birthday to me I guess”
I got rid of the t-shirt and lay down on the bed naked.
I closed my eyes, letting my mind imagine my wet dream, in form of a man... his face, his body, his cock and how I wish I could feel it inside of me, stretching me as I teased my clit with the vibrator.
I moaned Roman’s name and heard someone clear their throat on the foot of the bed. My eyes shot open and my heart nearly stopped beating when I saw who was in front of me. The vision was so unexpected that I even forgot I was naked.
“I see you liked my gift then” He smirked
“Wh- What are you doing here? How did you get inside of my room?” I whispered
“Does it matter?” His eyes had an evil glimpse to it
“Roman... I- I can explain” I begin to stutter
He placed his index finger on his lips in a shh motion and I stopped talking. He hungrily stared at every inch of my naked body, making me feel quite self conscious of the imperfections of it. I grabbed the blanket to cover my nakedness, he notice what I was about to do and yanked the blankets off the bed
“I’ve been waiting for years to see you like this, so don’t you dare cover yourself from me now”
He took off his shirt and pants leaving only his boxers on, from where I was laying I could see the outline of his hard cock and the wet spot of pre cum near of it’s head. He crawled on top of me slowly, like a predator, with dangerous eyes that were glued to my own.
“At first I was only gonna watch you... I wanted to see you pleasure yourself with my gifts, but when I saw your body fully naked on this bed moaning my name” He grunted “I couldn’t control myself, I couldn’t see this” He took the vibrator off my hand and placed on the bed by our side “Having all the fun with you, enjoying every part of your beautiful body, stretching your sweet pussy while my own cock only got to watch, he wants to have his own fun with you baby girl. He wants to make you feel real good” He leaned closer to my face, his lips brushing mine as he asked “Do you want that Y/N? Do you want my cock to make you feel good? Do you want it to stretch you out baby? Do you want it to fuck you hard and rough? Or do you prefer it slow and sweet? Do you want me to fuck you from behind?...Or maybe I should eat you out first huh? Eat that sweet pussy until you’re begging me to stop, I can’t wait to feel you come on my mouth...around my cock,milking it really nice” He growled “Tell me Y/N, what do you want?”
“I want it all, I want everything” I panted as he dry humped me
“Will you let me do whatever I want with you baby girl? What I’ve always wanted to do?”
“Yes”
He smiled satisfied, leaning to kissed me roughly and sloppily as he grabbed both of my wrists into one of his big hands pining it over my head.
“If anything I do bothers you or you feel like your not feeling it or don’t like it, you let me know ok?”
I nodded
“I need words baby girl”
“Yes, I understand”
“Good” He smiled and I felt something cold close around my wrists. I looked up to see the handcuffs around my wrists being closed on the headboard of the bed. Roman sat up and looked down do my naked body at his disposal.
“Fuck, you’re such a gorgeous sight” He said as he palmed his hard cock through his boxers. “I can’t wait to bury my cock deep inside you” He panted
“Roman, please do something” I whispered
His hands roamed the sides of my body until he stopped at my breasts as his hands squeezed them hard while pinching my nipples.
“These were made just for me. Do you see how they perfectly fit my hands? I can only imagine how even more beautiful your breasts will look with my cock sliding in between them” His eyes were glued on my breasts.
I tugged at my handcuffed hands, begging “Roman, please, I need- something”
“Let’s take a look on this pussy...are you wet for me Y/N?”
“Soaked”
He raised his eyebrows “Really? Let‘s see” Two of his fingers slides through my folds “Fuck baby girl, you are soaked. Jesus, we won’t even need lube” His fingers traced lazy circles around my clit, making me moan in pleasure. One callused finger slipped inside of me.
“Oh baby girl, you’re so tight, fuck I will barely be able to move. I can’t wait to feel your sweet little pussy stretch around my cock”
He took his finger out and cleaned with his tongue, humming in pleasure to the taste of my juices.
“You taste amazing, Y/N. Fuck I need more” He slide down my body placing his head between my thighs. His tongue gave a long lick from my entrance to my clit sucking it. Making his way back to my entrance again dipping his tongue inside of me, beginning to fuck me with his tongue.
“Oh my god, Roman, please fuck me! I need you inside of me please” I whined
“As you wish baby” He smirked
He slides his cock through my folds to lube it up, then places the head of his cock at my entrance
“Are you sure about this baby girl? ‘Cause once I start I won’t be able to stop myself”
“Roman, just fuck me already would you?” I said impatiently
He chuckled lightly saying “Easy tiger, we’ll take this slow, I don’t want to hurt you” Roman leaned down to peck my lips and returned to his previous position.
He started to slowly slide inside of me, inch by inch, painfully slow. He’s the biggest man I’ve ever been with, so I knew that we needed to take it slow, but fuck he feels so good I just wish he would roughly thrust into me, so I wiggle my hips to take more of him.
“Fuck Y/N, slow down! You’re too tight and I’m not exactly small, if you keep rushing things you’re gonna end up hurting yourself and I don’t want that”
“I know is just that your cock feels so fucking good, I just want you to fuck me Ro”
“Trust me baby, there’s nothing that I want more then fuck you senseless, but I want you to enjoy it as well ok?” He kissed my nose then my lips
When all of him was finally inside of me we both moaned loudly, I’ve never felt so full before and it was both a dream and a nightmare
“Motherfucker! Jesus fuck Y/N, you’re so fuckin- Oh my god.. I gotta focus ‘cuz I feel like at the slightest move I’ll cum” He pressed his forehead to mine as his thumb slowly traced circles on my clit.
“Roman” I gasped “Please don’t tease me like that, fuck it feels so fucking good” I cried as I felt my walls tighten around him
“Oh fuck!” Roman growled loudly “Don’t do that baby girl, don’t squeeze my cock like that, you’re gonna make m-“
“Move,please” I circled my hips
“Fuck it” He said as he forcefully grabbed my hips and begin to quickly thrust me.
“Oh Roman...harder, I need harder”
“Harder?” He chuckled “Like this?” He pounded into me mercilessly
“Yes! Just like that, oh please, don’t stop” “Fuck Y/N you’re going to get me addicted to you baby girl” He kissed my lips vigorously
“I say we should push you a little further..” Roman took the vibrator from the bed and placed on my clit.
“Ooohhh”
“Fuck, you look so beautiful baby girl, a whimpering mess underneath me”
“Ro- Roman I’m gonna cum”
“Cum baby, I wanna feel you cum around my cock”
And I did. My orgasm was so hard that my juices made a mess on Roman’s thighs and the bedsheets.
“Y/N, fuck baby...so fucking gorgeous, my messy girl” He chuckled “Where do you want me to cum baby?”
“Inside” I panted while I felt another mini orgasm come through me
“Fuck, I’m officially addicted to you baby girl. You’re my wet dream come true...gorgeous face, delicious body, perfect pussy..so tight for me. And on top of it all, you want my cum inside of you?! You are beyond perfect Y/N”
He thrusts into me 3 more times before finally cum, filling me up with his seed.
As we tried to recover our breaths, Roman uncuffed my wrists and placed a sweet kiss into each one.
“You ok baby girl?”
“Mhmm” I hummed
“Did I hurt you? Was I too rough?”
“No, of course not. You were perfect!”
“Good baby” He smiled
“Can I ask you something?”
“Sure thing baby”
“Why? Why me?”
“Why not you?” He asked sincerely while he brushed my hair with his fingers
“I don’t know, I can’t picture someone like you with someone like me.. I mean, there are so many beautiful women in the company that fit you better...I’ve never thought you could find me attractive”
“Are you serious? Have you looked yourself in the mirror? You’re gorgeous, so perfect Y/N. Yes, there are beautiful women in the company but they’re nothing compared to you baby. You stand out, exactly because you’re different from all of them. You’re unique”
“Still...I don’t know..”
“Oh so you don’t believe me? Maybe I’ll have to show you then”
I could feel his cock beginning to harden on my thigh
“Show me? How?”
“Well baby girl, good thing there are more items of the box for us to try it huh?”
“Us?”
“Yeah, you don’t really think that I’m gonna let you go right? Now that I’ve tasted you, you’ve got me hooked baby. We’ve got the whole night for me to change your mind about us together. And I bet you that I will” He smirked as he leaned down to kiss my neck...
What a great way to celebrate my birthday 🎁
#roman reigns one shot#roman reigns x reader#roman reigns#roman reigns fanfiction#roman reigns smut#roman reigns imagine#wwe one shot#wwe imagine#wwe fanfiction#wwe smut#masochist writes
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Raise Hell - Creativitwins and Darkside!Roman Fic
Fic Summary: After a brooding session in his room after the events of SVS2, Roman decides Fuck It! and visits his brother Remus' room. As the two brothers reconnect, Roman ends up making a startling decision.
Warnings: Roman Angst, Self Loathing, Self Deprecating, Darkside!Roman, Gore, Violence, Weapons, Sexual Innuendos (Basically Remus just being Remus)
Pairings: None!
Wordcount: 7k+ (almost 8k)
Author's Note:
I started writing this fic immediately after SVS2 so it's canon complacent until after that, where it branches off into this AU! This was before both Flirting With Social Anxiety and Working Through Intrusive Thoughts came out, so please just consider this an alternate "What If?" scenario! (Also this just goes to show you how much I procrastinate when it comes to writing whoops lol.)
Roman sat curled up on his bed. Sitting in the same position that he had been for the past two days or so. He couldn't exactly recall how long he had been there holed up in his room, actually.
The only thing he could recall was the disappointed looks on their faces, their harsh words whether intentional or not, and the feeling of his whole world seemingly crumbling down around him. It was all too much too soon, and after his outburst he had sunken into a numb state of suspension. Waiting to feel anything other than anger, grief, and disappointment. All three of which were mainly pointed dangerously at his own self like a bunch of daggers repeatedly striking where they knew it would hurt most.
Patton had stopped by shortly after he had first sunk out, yes. But Roman could hardly hear what the fatherly side was saying to him over the ringing in his ears and his own rapid heartbeat constantly reminding him it had been recently struck through. Something about everything being okay, he thinks? Yet how could Patton have said that when absolutely nothing was okay right now? In fact, he doubted anything could be okay ever again. Not after…well, after he had apparently messed up again.
It was starting to become a habit now, all of these stupid mistakes. And how could such a perfect prince as him make such mistakes? He was supposed to be a paragon of perfection! An idol for all aspiring heroes alike! The pinnacle of heroism and all that is good in the world! Instead he was just...just wrong. Always wrong. Always wrong no matter who's side he took or who he believed in or what he said or didn't say. Wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong.
But if he wasn't a perfect prince...if he wasn't a hero...if he wasn't right...then what exactly was he? What was left? Well, nothing, really. He had put all of his eggs in one basket and now the littlest breeze had apparently sent it toppling over.
Wait a minute...If he had nothing left, then that meant he had nothing left to lose, right? Which meant all of his old restrictions on himself, all of his walking the fine line and all of him staying on the right side of the fence- All of it was meaningless. It was doing nothing, just like him.
He slowly unfurled his body from it's curled up position and turned his gaze towards the closet on the far side of his room. The door was dingier compared to the rest of the elegant and ornately designed bedroom. Scratch marks marred its greyed, wooden surface and a sign was tapped loosely and half-hazardly to the middle. "Danger: Nightmare Zone. Keep out!" It read in bright red lettering.
"Keep out, huh...I must have been really mad when I wrote that." Roman glanced down to his hands, which he had clenched. "But now I'm just empty...so what's the use in obeying a stupid sign that I put up there myself?" He unfisted his hands and looked back to the imposing closet door. "What could be more dangerous in there than staying here and stewing in my own thoughts?"
He slowly stood up, his legs tingling from being in one position for far too long. He made his way over to the closet door. Slowly. Cautiously. Glancing over his shoulder as if someone was going to walk in on him at any moment. As his hand grasped the handle, he felt himself gulp. Did he really want to do this?
"…"
Well, what else was there to do?
He pushed the door open and stepped into the closet full of old clothes. All of his new princely adornments were actually being stored in a mahogany wardrobe beside his nightstand. These clothes were...they belonged to...Well, someone who didn't exist. At least not anymore. He pushed his way through dusty and moth-bitten clothes as if he was pushing through the undergrowth of a dense jungle. As he neared his destination, the place grew darker and smelled more and more of mold.
He finally arrived at another door. This one was more well kept than the last, with golden trimmings and an intricate door handle. He took a deep breath to steal his nerves before pushing it open.
He stepped out into another bedroom. This one had moss in the corners, cobwebs on the ceiling, and ivy climbing it's walls. Even still, it was much tidier than he had been expecting. It gave off more of a wild feeling rather than a dirty one. Just as he was about to take another step to inspect further, there was a mace in his face.
He hadn't even flinched back, he was so tired and dazed. Roman sucked in a nervous breath and looked to the wielder of the weapon.
Remus was standing frozen in place, his face flickering between emotions. Eyes twitching. It appeared like he had intended to knock him out again...just like last time in the living room...but something must have made him pause.
"You've been crying." He hissed, less of a question and more of an accusation.
Roman blinked, confused, before reaching up to poke the skin underneath his eyes. Sure enough, it was puffy. He bet if he looked in a mirror they'd be red-rimmed as well. But he didn't even want to see his own face right now. He huffed out in irritation. "So what if I have?"
Remus' face flickered once more before settling into a firm stare as he slowly lowered his morning star mace away from Roman's head. He was being oddly still and slow in his motions, and the difference between this and his usual rambunctiousness was making Roman's skin crawl with nerves. "Why?"
"Why?" Roman repeated after him, bristling, "Why do you even care why?"
Remus blinked, seeming to come out of his previous mood. "You tell me Prince Smarmy! You came into my turf." He rested his mace behind his shoulders and started rocking back and forth on the heels of his boots.
"I…" Roman's gaze fell to the ground. "I don't know. It's just the last place I could go, I guess?" He shrugged before waving a dramatic arm, "But if you don't want me here either, then just say it to my face!"
Remus tilted his head curiously before leaning forward "Oh, I can do way better than that, brohide." And with that, he snapped his fingers and the room flipped upside down.
Roman gasped as they fell through the air. The room seemed to twist and morph around them. Until finally, he had landed roughly on his own fluffy white floor rug. Remus, however, had fallen through the fancy canopy of his bed. Tearing a large hole through it and landing in a heap on the covers.
"Hey, my bed!" He shouted, offended beyond belief.
"Oh tough titty." Remus chastised as he picked up a golden laced, red silk pillow. He started plucking at it's loose threads. "I bet you have a ton of those ugly tent things."
"They're called canopies, you uncultured swine!"
Roman got up in a huff and dusted off and straightened his rumpled clothes. He sent a glare over to Remus as he did so. "Why'd you do that?"
"Do what?~" He sing-songed annoyingly back.
"Teleport us in such an unruly manner!"
"Hmmm…" He flopped over on to his back and started doing snow angel motions. "Why'd you go in my room?~Huh? Huh?"
"Wha- I- I asked you first!"
"I asked you second!!" He rolled over on the bed to grin up at Roman, still clutching the poor, abused pillow.
"Ugh, fine!" Roman threw his hands up in the air and moved to grab his vanity chair. He pulled it over to sit in front of the bed. "I just didn't want to be in my own room right now, okay??"
Remus frowned with pursed lips and sat up, scooching forward on the bed. "But it's your room, numbnuts."
"Well maybe I don't want to be near me right now…Um, wait. That doesn't make any sense, does it?"
"Probably not! But-" He cupped a hand over his mouth and loudly whispered conspiratorially, "I can rip your head off your body and throw it to the side for you so you're not close to it anymore?"
"No that's...That's not what I meant and you know it!"
"Fucking party pooper!" Remus threw his hands up then abandoned the pillow he had been holding to riffle curiously through the rest. "Do you not keep a dagger under your pillow??"
"What? No, of course not! Who would do that?"
"Me, duh! For security reasons, bitch boy."
"Well I'm obviously more sensible than that. I keep swords under the bed like a sane person."
"Wait, really?!" Remus threw himself over the side of the bed to look underneath it. "Holy shit, nice!" He rustled through them for a moment before grabbing a sleek black flamberge by it's blade and pulling it up. "I'm keeping this!"
"I would protest that but you've already gotten your filthy blood all over it and that sword is a particular bitch to clean."
"Sibling souvenir!" Proclaimed Remus as he stabbed it into his stomach for safe keeping.
"What on earth are you doing? Why would you stab yourself??"
"To make sure it doesn't go anywhere! Oh, and to test it's stabby powers."
"You know in hindsight, I shouldn't have even asked."
"Speaking of askings of questions-ing, why did you visit my room of all places? Needed to get rid of some trash? Because I'm taking if you're offering. I could always use more decorations!"
"Remus, you rat bastard, I saw that your room was cleaner than you let people believe it to be. If you did take any of my trash you'd probably organize it into the proper bins and everything."
Remus gasped and put an offended hand over his chest. "How dare you! My room is perfectly and gloriously trashy and stinky, just like me."
"Mhmm, sure it is."
A shuriken flew past the side of his head and embedded itself right in the face of one of his many Disney posters.
"Just answer my question!!"
"Okay, okay jeez!" Roman raised his hands placatingly before dropping them to grip at his knees nervously. "I, well, I didn't want to be alone anymore…"
"And? You couldn't just visit the other lamo light bitches in the living-dead room?"
"They, um." He sighed before looking over at his posters. Prince Charming smiled brightly back at him, even with a weapon digging into his forehead. "They don't want to be around me. They don't want me. Not anymore. If they ever did. They have him, after all. Both of them."
"Him. Them. Stop playing the pronoun game already and get fucking on with it!"
"He has Janus now! Thomas chose Janus! Patton chose Janus! They chose Janus! They both chose Janus...over me…" Roman blurted out. The words were spilling out now, unstoppable. He sniffled as he felt the tears threatening to fall once more as well. He didn't even realize he had any left to cry. "I chose Thomas. Thomas chose Patton. Patton chose Janus. No one ever chooses me! No one ever takes my side!"
"Apparently, I'm always the one in the wrong..." He ran his shaky hands over his cheeks, desperately trying to push any tears that appeared away. To keep them from falling anymore. Hadn't he cried enough? "I was wrong about Virgil. I was wrong with how I talked to Logan. I was wrong about the breakup. I was wrong about the wedding. Now I was wrong about Deceit- no, Janus- ugh...Everything I do is wrong!"
He lowered his hands again to dig his fingers back into his knees. Roman drew in another shaky breath, trying to calm himself after the outburst. He glanced nervously up at Remus to gauge his reaction to his brother's crazed rambles.
Remus had leaned forward to hear him better over his sobs and shaky voice, almost tipping over the edge of the bed. He had his nails digging into Roman's comforter, and Roman was afraid he was about to rip holes into it. He already had a canopy to replace after all, he didn't want to have to replace that as well! They stared at each other in tense silence for a few moments more, one at a loss on what to say next and the other trying to process the onslaught of new information. Finally, Remus let go of the comforter, slid off the bed, and sat on the floor in front of him with his legs splayed out.
"So what you're saying is...wait, Jan Jan the Banana Man actually told you his name?"
"Well, he more so told Thomas and Patton it and...I just happened to be there too?"
"Huh. Never thought he'd tell anyone else. Well, not after Virgil…was Virgil there?"
"No. Unfortunately Virgil wasn't there to back me up. If he would have even taken my side at all...And Logan was...there in textbox spirit?"
"What'd nerd-a-lerd say?"
"He…well, I wasn't really paying much attention to- I was panicking okay! But I heard enough." He looked to the side, feeling shame well up in himself again. "Enough to know that he was taking his side, just like everyone else."
He heard a mumbled "Damn pronoun name again-" before Remus clapped his hands together with a loud boom that echoed through the large room. "Okay! And I can't believe I'm saying this but- tell me the whole story. Top dick to bottom butt."
"Ew." Roman wrinkled his nose up in disgust.
"Just tell me already!!" Annnddd another shuriken whizzed past his head. This time it embedded itself in his dresser. He hoped it hadn't cracked the wood too much...
Thus Roman spun the entire tale, starting at Janus' first appearance and ending with the absolute fiasco between the callback and the wedding that had occurred a couple of days ago...or had it been several? Time had muddied itself in his reclusion. He would take several breaks in his storytelling to go off on self-deprecating tangents that sounded an awful lot like dramatic monologues from some tragic play. More often than not these tangents were cut short by Remus, who would hurry them along with crude nicknames and threats to get back to the main story.
Somehow during this storytelling process both of the brothers had ended up splayed out side by side on top of Roman's fluffy white floor rug. As if they were kids gossiping on the floor at a sleepover. Remus had busied his hands by pulling out locks of the fur from the rug while Roman's own hands gesticulated wildly with the ups and downs of his tale. As he neared the end of the story, Roman curled up to lay on his side so he could face Remus and see his reaction.
"...and then I decided to go to your room. Because I had nowhere else to go. I didn't want to stay in my room with my own thoughts any longer...but I didn't want to see any of the other sides, either."
Remus was laying on his stomach, fiddling with the rug and swaying his feet in the air. At hearing the last bit, his feet fell back down to rest on the floor. "...But you wanted to see me?" His voice was the softest Roman had ever heard him speak. It was incredulous and almost...hopeful.
"I-I don't know. I-" Roman diverted his eyes across the room, sweeping over the damage done by them earlier and eventually landing on the dingy and scratched up closet door. He stared at it for a moment in thought before looking back over to Remus. "Do you ever…Ever miss sharing a bedroom?" He murmured.
Remus wrinkled his nose and glared at him, likely upset that he had dodged the question. "Not really. Your taste in stuff is far too Gucci-Gucci-bougie for me."
"No, not that!" Roman dismissed with a wave of his hand, " Not the furniture or anything like that. Just the…the feel of someone else being there too? Knowing that someone else is always there? Someone who's kind of like you but not really? Someone you can talk to when you have no one else?" Roman ran his fingers through his hair in distress. "Does that make any sense???"
Remus was still glaring at him, but now his eyebrows twitched with an unseen emotion. "Being brothers?" He hissed.
"What?"
Remus reached over to grab Roman's shoulders and shake him silly. "What you're describing. Is being brothers. What I wanted to be. What you didn't let us be. What you rejected. Shoved into the darkest corner. Placed under a Do Not Enter sign-"
"I'm sorry, okay! I didn't mean it!"
Remus paused in his shaking, several emotions flashing across his face. "Didn't mean it?"
"I know I-" Roman placed his hands over Remus' on his shoulders but didn't push him away and lowered his head in shame. "I acted rashly and perhaps a tad extreme to our new circumstances at the time. But it was for what I thought was the best. I only ever wanted to serve Thomas. I only ever wanted to please them. I never thought- I-" He looked sincerely back up into his brother's eyes. "I never thought about what that would mean for you. What that would do to you. What that would do to us. And for that, I'm sorry."
Remus loosened his grip but didn't let go entirely, staring intensely and attentively at Roman.
"I never actually wanted to push you away. I was just doing so because I thought- Well, okay admittedly I wasn't thinking much at all really but-" His eyes briefly flickered back to the closet door "I didn't want to become a dark side too! I didn't want to not be able to see Thomas. Or to be rejected by the others. I-" He laughed then. A dry, helpless laugh. He shifted to put his head in his hands. "But I guess that happened anyway, didn't it? What sick irony, huh? Maybe it's what I deserve… Maybe it's karmic retribution…"
"..."
"I shoved you away... And now they're shoving me away! I lost a brother so I could keep everyone and everything else in my life but now- now I've lost that, too- Now I have nothing. Now I am no-"
Remus tightened his grip on Roman's shoulders again and pulled him towards himself. He ended up knocking their heads together in the process-
"Ow! What the hell are you-"
-of wrapping his arms around Roman and hugging him to himself.
"You-You're hugging me?"
"You didn't lose a brother…" Remus pouted, as if he was a petulant toddler, "I've always been right fucking here if you'd open your stupid eyes for once."
Roman let out a shuddering breath, feeling an entirely new type of tear prickling at the corners of his eyes. He buried his head in Remus' shoulder and gripped onto the back of hid brother's clothes as if he was his last lifeline. He probably was.
Sure the hug was the most uncomfortable one he'd ever had, what with the hilt of the sword in Remus' stomach poking him in his own and his forehead still ringing with the pain from where Remus banged them together, but somehow it was still nice. It still felt like...home.
"...But I thought you hated me?"
"What gave you that idea?"
"You're always calling me names and hitting me with stuff!"
He felt Remus shrug. "You do the same thing."
"You do it first!"
"Eh- that's just what siblings do~~"
"With medieval weapons?!"
"Says the guy with a stash of swords under his bed!~" Remus sing-songed teasingly.
"Oh like you have room to talk- You said you keep daggers under your pillow!"
"Shouldn't everyone? You should keep some under yours too, Mr Whiny Prissy Pants!"
"And there's the name calling again."
"Hey now, you know it's the older siblings job to pick on the younger-"
"But I'm the older sibling! I manifested my form first!"
"Eh, semantics-schmantics! Same diff!"
"You're completely unreasonable!"
"And you're too stuck up!"
Roman let out a growl and smacked a hand over Remus' face, pushing him away and breaking up the hug. Remus let out a huff and reached over to slap the back of Roman's head in retaliation. This caused them to descend into a full on slap fight, looking like a slapstick scene straight out of a comedy movie.
They roughhoused like this, like a pair of bickering elementary schoolers, until they eventually tired themselves out and flipped gracelessly back onto the floor. They both stared at the ceiling for a few silent seconds before bursting out into fits of crazed laughter.
"That was the worst hug ever! Hahaha!"
"Hey! I don't have much practice! Heeheehee!"
"Haha! We must look like a couple of insane people lying here!"
"Haha! I knooowww~~ You're room is sooo trashed!~Heehee!"
"Hey! You're the one that trashed it! Hahaha!"
"Well you're the one who invited me here brozilla! Hahahoo!"
"You're the one that brought us here! Hahaheh! I wanted to be in your room! Heh!"
Their laughter eventually died down. But just as Roman was about to drift off into sleep from his position lying on the floor, he heard Remus ask, "Do you still want to go to my room?"
Roman blinked his eyes open. He sat up and looked forlornly around his own bedroom. The thought of staying here seemed lonely, now that he'd finally reunited and reconciled with his brother. And the pictures and posters adorning the walls just reminded him of past memories that only hurt to think about right now. "......Yeah. Yes, actually." He turned to Remus, who had also sat back up, " I know, I know it sounds crazy but-"
"I like crazy!" Remus grinned and raised his fingers in preparation to snap, causing Roman to have a flashback to the previous time he did it.
"Wait! Don't turn the room upside down again! We can just sink through the floor like we normally-"
"Sink through the floor? Okay, if you say so!" His grin widened maniacally and he snapped his fingers.
The floor started to shift and cave in on itself, causing Roman's furniture to all move closer to the center. A hole slowly opened under where the brothers had been sitting that pulled them down into it. Roman screamed as they were both sucked into the abyss.
His scream ended abruptly as he was flung up into Remus' room, the hole now acting as a geyser of sorts. Roman landed in an unruly manner and was knocked out of breath while Remus landed swiftly on his knee before rolling up into a standing position.
"Home, Smelly Home!" He proudly declared with his hands on his hips, either unaware of or uncaring towards his brother's struggle to get up from the floor.
"Shouldn't have opened my big mouth..." Mumbled Roman as he dusted his clothes off and tried to straighten his appearance, only for his work to be completely undone when Remus yanked him into his side and rustled his hair with his elbow. "Hey! Stop that! Do you have any idea how long it takes to do my hair?"
"Eh, it was already messed up anyways." Remus slapped Roman's shoulder, "Now come on slowpoke, I'm gonna give you the grand tour!" Remus then ran off further into his room, causing Roman to have to chase after him in order to keep up.
Remus showed him his bedroom first, which had a mirrored layout to Roman's, but the furniture was darker and more rustic. The decorations looked more like something out of a haunted mansion than a grand palace, like Roman's did. Remus then stopped by his weapons closet, where he finally removed the flamberge sword from his stomach and tossed it haphazardly inside. From what Roman could make out before Remus had shut the door again was that the room looked bigger on the inside than the title 'closet' would suggest. Remus then pointed out a few more small areas of note before eventually leading Roman to the back door.
Every side's room had a front door- where the other sides could enter their room, and a backdoor- where each side could go out of their room and into their own personal section of the mindscape. Most sides referred to it as their 'backyard', of sorts.
Roman followed Remus out of his backdoor and onto a balcony overlooking a dark, twisted forest. The balcony itself was the same design as Roman's own balcony but was made up of black marble instead of white. There were a few cracks here and there, yet it was overall fairly stable. English Ivy crept along the rails and crawled down the side of the castle. There were no stairs in sight, unlike with his own balcony, leading Roman to wonder whether Remus would take the time to climb down the Ivy or simply jump off of the railing in order to enter his backyard.
Remus spread his arms out in a grand gesture before spinning around to sit backwards on the railing, facing Roman. "So, what do ya' think? Badass digs, right?"
Roman, lost in thought and not expecting the question, blurted out the first thing to cross his mind. "We have similar balconies."
Remus raised an amused brow. "No shit, Sher-cock. We're in the same castle. Same castle, same floor plan. Duh."
"Wait, the same castle…?"
Remus shrugged, leaning far enough back on the railing to have Roman worry about him falling over the side of it, "It split when we did. We still share a room and space... it's just-" He waved around a hand dismissively. "Halved, now."
"Ah...so that's the reason we can visit each other without going through our front doors…" Roman walked up to lean forwards on the railing, right beside Remus. "Wonder why I didn't question that sooner?" He rested his chin in his hand with a sigh. "All this time, we were even in the same castle...the same area of the mindscape...and I never- I never even bothered to visit-"
Remus, who had grown bored of the conversation and had started to pick his nose, interrupted Roman's spiral by flicking boogers at him. "Hey now, none of that. You did enough moping back in your own room, you cry baby.*
"Ugh! Ew!" Roman sputtered indignantly and pulled out a doily to wipe his face. "You're disgusting." He huffed.
Remus stuck his tongue out at him and laughed. "If you start saying sad shit again, I'll give you a wet willy." He then leaned towards Roman and started wiggling his fingers menacingly.
"You wouldn't dare!"
"Try me, bitch!"
"Well, if you do that, then I'll- Then I'll shove you off of the balcony!"
Remus faked a scandalized gasp and placed a hand over his chest while the other draped across his forehead. "You'd murder your own dearest brother?!"
"It wouldn't kill you, you overdramatic oaf, sides can't die!"
"You're calling me overdramatic?" Remus abandoned the pose to lean forward with a knowing grin. "Talk about the pot calling the kettle black."
"Oh shut up." Roman pushed Remus away, before turning around to sit beside him atop the railing.
Remus' eyes widened. "My goody two shoes brother is sitting precariously on a railing? Since when? Is it opposite day? "
"What do you mean? I do dangerous stuff all the time!"
"Oh yeah? Like what?"
Roman gestured wildly, "I slay the dragons! I defeat the monsters! I save the people! I...fight the bad guys…" Roman deflated as his hands fell beside him to lock the rail in a death grip. "But I guess I failed at all of that, huh? So much for being a goody two shoes…"
Remus hummed in thought, nails tapping against the black marble. His legs swayed back and forth as they both looked up at the night sky above them in companionable silence. Roman eventually let out a forlorn sigh and relaxed his grip on the railing. Suddenly, Remus let out a loud gasp and clapped his hands together, startling Roman who in turn almost tipped over the edge of the balcony.
"I have the best idea!"
"Oh no, you're planning something. That can never be good."
" No, no! Really, really! Listen, listen!" Remus smacked Roman's arm and shoulder excitedly in-between each word.
"Okay, okay! Just stop!" Roman slapped Remus' hands away. "Tell me then brother, what is it?"
Remus beamed and jumped to stand back on the balcony. "Okay so, you're saying that the other sides are shutting you out, right? And that they made you feel like a stinky doodoo head?"
"Gee, thanks for reminding me. Totally helps me feel better." Roman grimaced with a sarcastic thumbs up as Remus paced back and forth.
"Right! So, they're starting to treat you like a villain. And J-Anus as a good guy?"
"I- I guess? That's like the bare essentials of what happened...I mean, that's what it seems like--Ugh, just what are you getting at?!"
Remus stopped pacing to spin towards Roman and spread his hands out. "So why not just be a villain?"
"......what?"
"Join the dark sides with me!" Remus then awkwardly faked a modeling pose. "We have great fashion! And weapons! Lots of weapons!"
Roman scoffed. "I know, I saw your weapons closet." He slid off the railing to stand in front of his brother. "But what makes you think I'd want to be a villain?"
"Well, they made you feel fucking awful, right?" Remus leaned forward with a menacing grin, "So why not give them a little hell in return?"
"What, as in revenge?! I'm supposed to be a purveyor of justice!"
Remus shrugged and started circling Roman. "Where's the justice in always shutting you out? Of always telling you that everything you do is wrong? Of splitting us apart?" He stopped to put his hands on Roman's shoulders again. "Aren't you tired of trying to be a good guy all the time? Don't you just want to let loose and raise a little hell?"
Roman bit his lip and wrung his hands together. He looked down at his feet as his brother's words rang through his head. Where was the justice in that? He had always tried to do the right thing before. To be the good guy. To be the hero. But no one ever appreciated his efforts. Instead they always, always focused only on his mistakes.
The other sides' voices chimed off in his head.
"Roman, you can't do that." "Shut up Roman." "That was wrong, Roman." "Stop being so dramatic, Roman."
He pushed those invading voices furiously away and tried to reorganize his thoughts.
Him, joining the dark sides? Could it even be done? A light side had never switched over to the dark side before... Well, unless you counted the original Creativity and their split. Where a part of that Creativity had...had been pushed to the dark sides and…
Roman's eyes widened in realization as he looked back up at his brother. "You too." He breathed out.
Remus squinted his eyes and scrunched his nose at him. "Hah?"
"Always being shut out. Always being told everything you do is wrong. Being forced to split apart." Roman grabbed the hands that were on his shoulders to move them down and squeeze them reassuringly. "You experienced all of that too. Even more than I did…Don't you want to raise hell too?"
Roman grinned in a very in unprincely manner and released Remus' hands. He swept his arms aside in a grand motion. "Let's raise hell together, brother. What do you say?"
Remus stared at him blankly for a moment before breaking out into a shit eating grin of his own. "Hell yeah! Hell mother fucking yeah!" He jumped up and down excitedly and clapped his hands. "Oh! We're gonna have so much fun! Those butt holes have no idea what's coming."
Roman chuckled fondly at his brother's enthusiasm. He felt lighter than he had in years. Free of responsibility. Free of expectations. Free of limitations. Free to do whatever he wanted. Speaking of which…
"You mentioned fashion earlier, didn't you?" Roman pulled at the hem of his shirt in thought before smirking up at Remus. "I believe for me to officially join the dark sides, a makeover may be in order."
Remus nodded and grabbed his brother's hand to drag him back inside, chanting, "Makeover time! Makeover time!" The entire way while pumping his fist victoriously into the air.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The next morning, in Thomas' living room.
"-and a part of taking care of yourself is to not self-deprecate." Janus was explaining, standing next to Logan.
"Yeah, you've gotta compliment yourself sometimes, Thomas!" Patton added happily.
Thomas scratched the back of his head nervously. "I don't know guys... isn't that a little…"
"Conceited?" Virgil cut in, glaring over at Janus' before looking back to Thomas. "What if we end up doing that out loud in front of others? What if people think we're stuck up?"
"Well, it's better than always thinking so negatively of himself." Janus spat out.
"Janus has a point, Virgil. It's been proven that constant self-deprecating behavior can have a wide range of negative effects on one's psyche and mental health." Logan chinned in while adjusting his glasses. "Which could also lead to eventual negative effects on one's physical health, including-"
"Well, I mean yeah!-" Virgil rushed to interrupt, "He shouldn't think too badly of himself...but he shouldn't think too highly of himself, either!" He uncrossed his arms and gestured towards the empty space where Roman usually stood. "I mean, what if Thomas ends up as stuck up as Princy here, huh? What would you do then-"
"Wait-" Thomas interrupted him, "Where is Roman? Has anyone seen him lately?"
The sides fell silent as they all looked curiously towards the empty spot.
"I haven't seen him since Janus joined us... Patton, didn't you check up on him or something?"
"Well, yeah! Of course I did kiddo!" Patton nodded then pouted, "He didn't seem to want to talk to me though…"
"Has anyone actually talked to Roman in a while? Where is he?"
The sides gave Thomas varying degrees of shrugs and noncommittal answers in response.
Thomas sighed, "Really, guys?" He then looked towards the corner again and called out, "Roman! Are you there? Are you listening? If so, come on up! You should join us!"
They waited in awkward silence for a while for Roman to appear, or to at least respond to Thomas' call...until they heard a deep chuckle emanating from behind the tv.
"Join you? Nope! Not possible~"
Hands crept out from behind the tv, grabbing onto the wall, causing everyone in the room to immediately be alert. They remembered the last time they saw hands there...this couldn't be good! Something was wrong! Sure enough, Remus slowly emerged, climbing up the wall as if he was a lizard. He then twisted his head around, causing Patton to almost faint from fear. Thomas, meanwhile, backed away as far as he could without falling over the couch.
"I'm afraid he's already joined someone else!~"
Remus jumped off of the wall to land in Roman's designated spot. His head and body shifted back to their original positions and he grinned at the others with his arms spread out. Now, the others could see that along with his usual attire, he also donned a crooked and cracked silver crown atop his head. His purplish eyeshadow was gone, instead replaced with a messily applied sparkly silver eyeshadow. Some of the glitter from it fell down the sides of his face to freckle his cheeks as well. The wide grin of his lips was painted in a deep green lipstick.
"Me!"
"Remus…?" Janus breathed out, confused.
"I didn't call for you! I called for Roman!" Thomas shouted once he had regained his composure from witnessing such a horrifying sight.
Virgil bristled and stood up from where he had been leaning against the stairs. "Where is he? What did you do with him?" He bared his teeth at Remus as if he was an agitated guard dog.
Remus put his hands on his hips and threw his head back with a laugh. "What did I do to him?" He leaned forward with a smirk. "What did you do to him? Huh?"
"Wha-what do you mean? W-we didn't do anything..." Stammered out Patton.
"Also, did he change his makeup?" Muttered Thomas, "It actually looks kinda good…"
"Focus on the main issue here, dudes!" Virgil snapped his fingers at them both before turning back to Remus. "Okay, whatever. It doesn't matter wherever you put him, just give him back!"
Remus chuckled and stepped to the side, "You hear that, dear brother? Sounds like they're ready for you to come out!~"
At that, the tv seemed to flicker to life. A colorful error screen appeared and started to crackle and fizz. As the glow from the tv lit up the room, the rest of the room started to glitch along with it.
The sides glanced around nervously, fear creeping into their bones once more.
"What's going on? What's happening to the room?!" Thomas panicked.
Logan placed a hand on his chin. "These types of spatial effects seeming to happen in Thomas' physical living room instead of just inside the mindscape...could it be?"
"No…" Gasped Janus, "No, it can't be!"
"Oh but it can!~" Announced another voice from inside the tv.
Hands reached out from inside the error screen to grasp the sides of the tv. A form slowly climbed out of the tv and stepped into the living room.
"......Roman? What on earth are you wearing?!" Virgil waved a hand incredulously at his new get up.
Roman, now fully standing beside Remus in his usual spot, smirked at Virgil and flicked his cape. "It's called fashion, Midnight Query."
Roman's usual outfit was now black in all of the areas it used to be white. On top of that, he wore a red velvet cape with a white and black spotted fur trim. On his shoulder laid a skull where the cape connected and clasped shut. His upper eyelid was decorated in sparkly gold eyeshadow and thick black eyeliner which spread out into a cat-eye look. His smirk donned blood red lipstick and a crown identical to Remus' was atop his head, except his crown was golden and not crooked or cracked at all. He looked like he had stepped right out of a fairytale…but as an evil king instead of a noble prince.
"Perhaps you should try it sometime, Dark and Dreary. It might make you look less…" Roman made a point of looking Virgil up and down before waving his hand at him with a scowl, "Drab."
"Roman! Where have you been? I missed you. Your makeup looks great!" Patton rambled ecstatically.
"Missed me?" He sneered, "Ha! I bet you all didn't even realize that I was gone." Roman then looked down to check his meticulously manicured nails with a bored expression.
"Of course we did! That's why I called you!" Insisted Thomas.
Roman tsked and shook his head. "Oh Thomas, Thomas. Always the peacemaker." He moved the hand he had been checking to flip his cape over his shoulder. "But I'm not here to make peace. We're here to raise hell. Isn't that right, brother?"
In response, Remus summoned a pitch black flamberge sword and stabbed the blade into the ground. "Hell yeah we are!"
The area of the floor that he smashed cracked open to reveal an eerie green and yellow glow. Small shadow hands emerged as little demons started crawling through the cracks.
Roman summoned a longsword with a ruby embedded in its hilt and slashed at the wall. Red and orange flames burst forth from the rip as even more shadow demons started to join them.
The glitching of the room from the tv screen grew at an alarming rate, some of the glitches covering entire pieces of furniture.
"What on earth is happening!?" Thomas screamed, gesturing wildly at, well, everything.
"Roman, you need to stop this now!" Virgil growled, slipping into his Tempest Tongue.
"Yeah kiddo," chuckled Patton nervously as he tried to wrestle his hoodie away from a demon that was currently trying to steal it. "Isn't this a tad bit extreme?"
Roman laughed darkly, raising his sword into a shrug. "And why should I?"
Remus rested his elbow on Roman's shoulder, "We haven't even begun to have our fun yet!"
Janus narrowed his eyes at Remus, "Remus, this is not what I meant when I said-"
"Blah blah blah!" Remus mimed a mouth with his hand. "That's all you are, anacon-don't. All talk, no action!"
"What's going on?! Why isn't anyone answering me?!"
"Well, Thomas, it appears that Roman and Remus have initiated-" Logan started only to get interrupted by Virgil.
"They started Daymare Mode!" Virgil shouted as he angrily threw a demon that had been crawling on him into the wall, knocking it out instantly.
"Daymare Mode? What's Daymare Mode?!"
"It's a combination of Daydream Mode and Nightmare Mode." Janus explained while shaking a demon off of his hat with a sneer, "It's a state Creativity can only achieve when it's whole…"
"So, what? They can affect the real world now that they're working together?!"
"Don't be ridiculous, Thomas." Chastised Logan, "You're technically just hallucinating-"
"I'm hallucinating?!"
"Yes, that is what I just said."
A demon tugged at Logan's pant leg only to be sent running away in fear by a well-placed harsh glare.
Patton, finally having gotten his hoodie free, tied it back around his shoulders and clapped his hands. "Okay, you two! That's enough. I'm not sure what's gotten into you today, but-"
"Oh no, no, no." Roman waved a finger at him, "I'm afraid we're not going to be listening to you anymore, padre."
"We've got our own plans, Daddy DingDong!"
"Oh yeah?" Hissed Janus, "And what exactly are those?"
"You can't do them, whatever they are!" Virgil yelled out as he stomped on another demon's tail, sending it hopping away in pain. "We won't let you. I won't let you!"
Remus and Roman exchanged amused glances before turning back to the others.
"You don't have to let us do anything," Roman hummed, "We're the kings. We shall do whatever we want." He waved a dismissive hand.
"Hear ye, Hear ye! The Twin Kings of Creativity!" Hollered Remus, as both twins raised their swords triumphantly in the air, "We take no shit and kick some ass!"
"To us!" Roman high fived Remus' hand, then turned to grin menacingly at the others, "And now, time for you to go to hell."
"To hell?!" Thomas gasped, looking desperately back and forth at the other sides.
Logan's eyes widened, having figured out what they were planning to do. "Roman, if I'm correct- and I always am- then I'd advise against-"
"Too late, Deuce Banner!" Remus shouted triumphantly as he and Roman clashed their weapons together. The sound from the clang resonated in all of their heads, making their vision blurry.
Thomas gripped the sides of his head, trying to get the ringing to stop hurting his ears. His head felt like it was splitting open. And then, there was nothing. Just a fade to black.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Thomas gasped for air as he woke up. Wait, woke up? Had it all been a dream? Thank god-!
"Well, well, well. It's about damn time." Drawled Roman.
"We thought you were never gonna come to!" Laughed Remus.
Thomas jumped up in surprise from where he'd been laying on the floor, only to immediately regret moving so harshly as he felt his head swim. "Ow ow ow." He gripped his forehead and peered around, "What-"
"Welcome, welcome!" Roman proclaimed as he spread his arms out in a grand gesture. "To the Kingdom of Creativity."
Thomas looked up to see Roman and Remus sitting side by side on twin thrones, one gold with red cushions and one silver with green cushions. Roman sat up straight with impeccable posture and one leg crossed over the other. Remus lay sideways across his throne, kicking his feet and tossing what appeared to be a grenade up and down as if it was a baseball.
"...What? Where am I?"
"We just told you." Scoffed Roman, "You're in the Kingdom of Creativity." At Thomas' confused frown, he continued, "You're in our room, Thomas."
"Your room?" Thomas looked around at the ornate throne room. "It doesn't look like my living room, like the others' did."
"That's cause we're not as boring as the other sides." Sighed Roman, "We have much more pizazz." He gestured at the room around them. "We did some redecorating recently, actually. What do you think, hmm?"
The throne room was mainly black, with silver and gold furniture giving the darkness a stark contrast. Banners of their two symbols hung on opposite sides of the room in correspondence with each side's throne. Overall it gave off a majestic yet eerie feel.
"It's- Um." Thomas finally stood up from his position on the floor and glanced around nervously. "It's certainly something. But um, where are the others…?"
He had long since noticed that it was just him and the twins in this room. The others had seemingly vanished into thin air. Their continued disappearance was making him more and more uneasy as each second ticked by.
Remus huffed and casually threw the grenade over his shoulder and out a window, causing an explosion to be heard outside. "What's wrong Thomathy, our room not up to snuff with the others? You prefer Daddyo's and Scene-Kid's rooms? Huh?"
"What? No!" Thomas raised his hands placatingly, not wanting to anger the two currently volatile sides, "You're room is fine! It's great! It's just they were here and now they're not here and I was just wondering-"
"They're off on their own adventure right now, Thomas." Roman butted in. He leaned forward to place his elbows on his knees and his chin in his hands. "That doesn't matter, though. What matters right now is us. Don't you want to stay here with us, Thomas? We can show you around the castle~!"
"Um- No, that's fine... No thank you." Thomas smiled as his voice shook. "I'm sorry, I can't stay here... I need to find the others."
Roman's pleased smile immediately fell into a scowl, "Fine, then. You want to see the others so badly?" He stood up from his throne and gestured for his brother to do the same. "Then why don't you just join them already!"
The both summoned their new weapons again, causing Thomas to start to panic. "Wait! Don't! Not again!"
"Too late, Thomas. You should have accepted our gracious offer."
"We could've had so much fun together!" Chirped Remus.
"And we will! You're just not ready yet, it seems." Roman sighed with a disappointed frown, "Now, for the time being~"
"Have fun in hell instead!~" The twins chimed in unison as they clashed their swords together for a second time.
The clanging rang in Thomas' already aching head as everything fell into the blackness once more.
#creativitwins#Darkside!roman#darkside roman#dark!roman#my fics#sanders sides#sanders side fic#i had too much fun writing this#though the living room scene was way too many characters to keep up with holy shit#yes i ended it on a cliffhanger no i am not sorry#will i continue this au?? probably not lmao#the rest is up to your i-m-a-g-i-n-a-t-i-o-n!~~~
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*rolls up sleeves* As you wish! This is a long one though, so buckle up! ☆
So, in Lostbelt 6 we finally got Beryl's backstory. And it was every bit as awful as a lot of people had been surmising, if not worse. He did horrible things to Mash, and the worst part of all is it was justified in his mind through his "love" for her. But the crowning jewel of it all was it being confirmed that when Roman booted Beryl from Mash's room during the infamous "sneaking in incident" itself, he didn't do it kindly. It was also implied pretty strongly that not only was he not calm about throwing Beryl out, but that it was a miracle that Beryl walked away from the experience at all. This fits nicely with the "Romani is super protective of the people he cares about, almost to a fault, and can be absolutely vicious about it if pushed hard enough" vibe, which is cool. Very validating to see the doc getting to be more three-dimensional as a character. But we also know Roman is suuuper hard on himself, and tends to earnestly gather the opinions of others to assess who he is as a person. So I'd imagine he'd be a little out of sorts following such a huge event, especially since there's part of him that knows if he still had his clairvoyance, he could have prevented the entire thing from happening at all. But he's still a bit green as a normal human, and so not very good at hiding his emotions, and the turbulence he's feeling towards Beryl and himself and everything else is written aaalll over his face. And between the blaze in his eyes and the rumors spreading around Chaldea like wildfire, a lot of people start to... steer clear of him. Cautionary whispers start to circulate that it's best not to anger the Director's favorite doctor, that he's secretly a loose canon just waiting to unload on the next unfortunate soul to give him a chance. No one could be that sincere anyway, they reason, so it makes sense that Roman's bubbly facade was hiding something nasty beneath it. And Roman's seen this behavior before. The whispering, the distance, all of it. Being the King of Mages illicited similar reactions, after all, and he was no stranger to being, well, a stranger. So he settles in to the notion of a second life of isolation, and draws back from the people around him. It was only a matter of time before the jig was up anyway.
At least, that's what he was thinking before he was startled halfway back to the Throne by the resounding clink of a coffee cup being set down beside him. The clang was loud enough that the whole cafeteria came to a halt, the spotlight suddenly placed securely on the secluded little corner Romani had been brooding in, and truthfully he was half-afraid to look for fear that the empty cup of his own he'd been ignoring had shattered on its own. That was honestly the last thing he needed right now, more evidence that he was frothing at the mouth, right? But then a laugh like bells reached his ears, and he turned to see Leo standing there with the warmest, softest look he'd ever seen her wear. She looked angelic, absolutely ethereal, and the slight crease at her eyes seemed to say "it's all going to be okay now." Naturally, he blinked and it was gone, and with perfect timing Leonardo had slid into one of the seats opposed to him with a flourish, loudly proclaiming to the shock of the onlookers that it was near criminal to mope in the presence of a genius, especially one who'd brought coffee to share. Beside himself, Romani could only gawk, blinking owlishly at the Heroic Spirit who, up until this point, seemed to only regard him with frustration and mild annoyance at best. But if Da Vinci recollected such experiences, she didn't show it, her gaze instead regarding him as if they were the oldest of friends before sweeping around challengingly across her audience, daring them to speak against her judgement. And though it was a bit awkward at first, it was... nice to have someone to talk to, Roman thought. (Even someone who liked coffee with not nearly enough sugar in it).
Of course, that was hardly the end of it. And when the rumors spread to Leo, hissed in secret by concerned staff, suddenly people find that green wasn't quite so scary a color as blue. She listens to the stir with a smile sharp as the talons drumming idly on the table in front of her, and the look in her dazzling doe eyes threatens them to give her every last detail they know. The picture of poise, her champagne tone is so thick with murder you could paint with it, and yet crafted so artfully it leaves the gossipers wondering if they've hallucinated the malicious aura around them or not. But a genius knows the value of patience when weaving a trap, and so she waits, and she waits, and she waits. She provides polite insight, little nods that she was paying attention, and little else, little more. Just a friendly conversation.... until the gossipers have so thoroughly locked themselves in with lies it's almost too easy to obliterate them in their tracks.
You see, what nobody knew was that Leo was there when Roman through Beryl out, her instincts as a high ranking Heroic Spirit tipping her off to the sudden tidal wave of of mana coming from Mash's quarters in the medbay. She saw it all, from start to bloody finish, her presence missed among the commotion, and where others had found something to fear, Leo had felt the stir of an emotion far more ginger. How many times in her natural life had she wished for someone to protect her from the evils of the world like that? How many times had she wished in her cell for someone to sweep in and decimate the people who'd wronged her like that? Broader still, how many times had she borne witness to someone shaking their head sadly, or lamenting because yet another little girl had fallen prey to a predator who wielded too much power to ever be stopped? And yet here was this strange little pushover of a man, completely obliterating one of the Director's prized A-Team members to protect a little girl many had considered a pet project at most. She couldn't be sure about a lot of what she saw— mainly the mana where there should be none, or the strange, golden glint to Roman's eyes. But she knew she had witnessed something done in pure altruism, and that there was one less innocent who went undefended because of it. Leo was also quite used to being ostracized to various degrees herself, not that she took it personally of course! (aha...) Being such an eccentric, beautiful, charismatic, talented genius was a tough existence, after all! Not many could keep up with her, and insecure people get so mean sometimes. (Not to mention that it was even tougher when she was still back in Italy, and often twice as lonely.) So, seeing as she is also so very compassionate and wise, she simply could not allow the same fate to happen to Roman! Especially not over something like this! It was only right to rescue him from infinite exile. Anyone with a conscience would have done the same!
(But oh, if only she'd known how he'd rescue her too, and how preciously love could bloom, even in the arctic, even at the end of the world.)
GRIPS YOU TIGHTLY
ANON WE ARE ON THE SAME WAVELENGTH WITH THESE TWO, YOU UNDERSTAND WHY ME AND LYRE WERE ROMAVINCI STANS THE FIRST TIME WE SAW THEM TOGETHER, THEY ARE M A R R I E D BUT EVEN OUTSIDE OF THAT YES YES YES TO ALL OF THIS BEAUTIFUL META ON THEIR CHARACTERS AND HOW THEY INTERACT WITH PEOPLE AND ALSO FUCK BERYL LIVES ACTUALLY LMAOOO
#fgo spoilers#long post#romavinci nerd#romavinci#added the tag u suggested too since u wanted it uwu#amen to asks having longer word limits now btw#I wish i had better words to share#but i am instead flailing and squealing with delight#Anonymous#asks
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Gay Eyes - Prinxiety
@idkwhyimhere0o0 , @slitherynchiken bc yall wanted to see this uwu
Original Post here!
Summary: "Gay eyes" was a stupid concept. Virgil could hardly believe his ears when Roman suggested it earlier that day- when they were trying to pursue Nico. And of course, it didn't work. Because it was stupid. Idiotic. So why couldn't he stop thinking about it- or the boy who had suggested it?
Discord: Astro’s Zone
Ship: Prinxiety
Read on AO3
Spoiler warning for Flirting With Social Anxiety!!
Gay eyes, right?
That’s what he called them?
It was stupid. A stupid name, a stupid concept, a stupid- ugh, everything!
So why couldn’t he stop thinking about it-!
Virgil groaned, turning himself around so he could shove his face onto the pillow. Ughhhhhhhh.
Maybe it was because Roman looked so damn pretty doing it and- nope! Not going down that train of thought. At least, not for the fifth time tonight.
‘Gay eyes’. Ugh. Something about that was familiar. Did someone do them to Thomas? No, no, he would’ve heard Roman prattling on about it in a lovestruck monologue if someone did. That much was certain.
Ah- maybe- well, Thomas had to have done it sometime, right? He seemed so familiar with the concept. That must be why he was understood it. It was the only logical reason, at least. Heh, maybe Logan would be proud of him for coming up with an understandable conclusion.
But- that wasn’t it, was it? Something in his nonexistent heart told him so. And while he made a point to not listen to his heart- it could get them in so many dangerous situations, after all- he spent a few more minutes thinking about it. Just in case.
He couldn’t think of anything else though. No matter how many paths he went through, nothing made sense, except for if another Side had done them while he was watching or something and-!
Oh.
Oh.
God, he remembered it- about 3 weeks ago, Roman was acting weird. And not his normal type of fantastical-focused weirdness either. He hadn’t thought much of it- that was a lie, he spent too much time thinking about it- but Roman kept looking over at Virgil, both of them sitting at opposite ends of the couch.
When Virgil finally chanced looking over and meeting his eyes, Roman simply raised an eyebrow at him. A second later, he switched his expression to an innocent one, looking away, and back, where he lifted his eyebrow again with a smirk.
What the fuck, he had thought. Huh? Ugh- whatever. Ro’ was just messing around. Virgil let out a scoff, lightly pushing Roman with a small laugh as he stood up and walked to the kitchen- Patton was starting to look longingly at the stove again, and Virgil decided he would supervise. They didn’t want a repeat of last time.
Looking back on it, though… Was Roman… flirting with him? With Virgil? None of the others had been in the room, except for Patton, who was on the opposite side. So it must have been Virgil.
But- why?
Why Virgil? Was he pranking him? No, Roman wouldn’t do that, he was too serious about romance.
That meant… that he was serious. That he was trying to flirt… with Virgil.
The chances of Roman pranking him seemed far higher than the chances of Roman actually liking Virgil back, but- well, all the signs said he was genuine.
Wait.
Oh God.
If he was flirting with him, that means- that means that Virgil just brushed off his flirting without a second thought. That he- did he accidentally reject Roman? Shit, shit, shitshitshit- FUCK! He must hate Virgil now and his chances were ruined and he’d be single forever and-
Breathe. He- he had to breathe.
In, out.
Okay. Okay, he just had to think about it logically. Logically, Roman’s feelings for him wouldn’t go away just because Virgil rejected him (he rejected him! FUCK! FUCK!). Logically, he still had a chance.
But what if he didn’t- what if Roman already convinced himself out of it, or what if he realized he wasn’t that interested after all and now he’s grateful I didn’t understand, or what if he- AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-
Okay- okay- he just… he had to make a plan to tell Roman. Easy. Yeah, that was a good idea.
--
This was a horrible idea. By far the worst of his ideas. Why was he doing this idea?!?
Well, he supposed, this is why I’m not Creativity.
He sat down on the couch, opposite of Roman. Step one, done.
Roman glanced up at him, flashing a radiant smile before turning back to his book- something fantasy related, most likely. Fuck I’m gay.
Could anyone blame him, though? Roman was just so pretty! Kind, too, he just wanted the best for everyone. He had a pretty straightforward set of right and wrong, but he was learning, and trying his best to make things right. Fuck, he was so passionate too. Virgil could sit there listening for hours as he ranted on about all his new ideas. He wanted to do that, he wanted to be there for Roman, to trust him enough to share thoughts he wasn’t entirely comfortable with.
Oh shit, he had been staring at him for too long. Roman was looking at him with concern and curiosity. Enact step two, enact step two!
Quickly, before he had a chance to feel scared about it- he let an eyebrow rise up, silently staring at Roman with a smile. He let the expression fall, looking away, then looking back, before switching back with a smirk.
Fuck, Roman just looked confused. What were the steps again? What did he miss?!? I knew this was a bad idea-
Roman softly gasped. Virgil’s gaze shot to him as a brilliantly bright blush adorned Roman’s face.
Good reaction?
“Was that- did you-?” Roman giggled, quickly covering his head with his hands.
This is good-? No! No, this is bad! A bad reaction! You fucked up Virgil, ABORT, ABORT-
“Roman, Virgil! It’s time to eat breakfast!” Patton called from the dining room. Shit. Now he couldn’t run away.
--
Roman kept trying to catch his gaze while they were eating. He saw it in the corner of his eye. But Virgil’s gaze stayed diligently on his food, eating quickly so he could run get away faster.
“I’m going to my room- BYE!” he rushed out, disposing of the dishes before sprinting back to his room. He didn’t want to see the pitying glance Roman sent him.
He face-planted straight onto his bed. He felt like crying, and he desperately fought back the tears that would tell everyone just what he was feeling.
Fuck, why couldn’t he have just kept his mouth shut. Or, rather, repressed his feelings and lived with the fact that Roman would never like him back? Of course Roman wouldn’t feel the same- why would he? When Virgil was so much worse than him?
Fuck.
He froze as a knock sounded at the door.
Fucking shit- this was Roman coming to officially reject him, wasn’t it. Shit, not right now! Not when he was still processing it! He was gonna burst into tears!
Biting his lip, he slowly made his way over to the door, opening it ever so cautiously.
There stood Roman, bouncing on his heels with a grin. Virgil frowned, why is he so ecstatic about rejecting me? I thought he considered me a friend now…
Roman opened his mouth to speak. Deny it! Deny it!
“It was a joke.” Virgil blurted out. Roman’s stopped in place, staring at him.
“What?”
“I didn’t mean it. Me doing the whole ‘gay eyes’ thing? It was a joke.” he murmured, fiddling with his sleeves. Roman made a strained noise.
“I- um- I see. That, uh, that makes sense. Thanks for clarifying, Virgil. If you’ll excuse me, I really must be going now. Ideas to explore, and all. Toodle-oo!”
And with that, Roman left.
--
“Of course it was too good to be true,” Roman moaned, falling back onto his thousands of pillows strewn over the floor. His body shook as he tried to hold back sobs.
He had been trying to show hints to Virgil for ages, y’know. Roman was brave, but not brave enough to say it outright. He’d hoped- well, he’d hoped that after he showed a few hints, maybe, just maybe, Virgil would show some signs back. Just enough that Roman could be sure that his feelings were returned.
And he thought… that this was it. That Virgil’s sudden understanding of ‘gay eyes’ was the sign that he was looking for!
He always knew his endless optimism would come to bite him some day.
“FUCK!” he shouted to no one. Thankfully he had soundproofed his room ages ago, after enough noise complaints from Logan about his singing. He wiped his tears away, scoffing as new ones just took their place.
He should have known Virgil was too perfect for him.
With his endearingly sarcastic attitude, his wonderfully precious giggles, and of course his smile- it was a wonder he hadn’t fallen for him sooner.
He silently cursed his past self. Why couldn’t he have just let it go and accepted him into the group? Maybe this wouldn’t have happened in the first place- maybe Virgil would be able to like him romantically.
God, what he would give to be able to cuddle with Virgil… to hug him, to hold hands, maybe even kiss him…
But he couldn’t.
Because Virgil had rejected him.
--
Dumbass, Virgil’s brain told him. He huffed. What, he asked, am I not suffering enough already?
His mind didn’t respond. Virgil groaned. This usually meant that he had to actually figure something out instead of just wallowing in his sorrow.
Rude.
He rubbed at his eyes, debating whether he should actually follow directions and think over things.
Nah, he decided, switching onto his side as he elected to just sleep and forget about today.
He likes you back!
Psh, yeah right. The only way Roman could like him back is if he had been coming over to confirm his feelings or some shit. That was impossible.
…
Wait, he thought, sitting up. Wait. Maybe I am a dumbass.
Because the more he thought about it, the more it became apparent that it actually wasn’t impossible. In fact, it might just be… plausible.
Holy shit.
He stood up, frantically searching for his hoodie. He had to tell Roman, he had to. Before it was too late.
Picking it up, he hurried over to the mirror. Fuck, he looked like a disaster. Hair askew, makeup nonexistent, eyes wide in panic. At least he hadn’t cried- crying, Virgil, he could be crying. Go, hurry!
Whipping open the door, he hurried down the hallway. Passing Patton in the kitchen, he gave him a nod as he ran.
“What are you doing up?” Patton asked, a cup of water in his hand. “You should be going to sleep.”
“Can’t-” Virgil huffed out, stopping for only a few seconds. “I have to go- gotta- clear something up.”
He left before Patton could come up with a response.
--
“Roman,” he whisper-shouted, frantically knocking on the door. “Roman!”
The door opened, revealing a tired Roman. Virgil noticed with a pain in his chest that his eyes were red from crying.
“What?”
“I meant it,” he rushed out. “I meant it- the whole ‘gay eyes’ thing. As stupid as it is, I meant it.” Roman’s eyes widened.
“I did- but I thought you were gonna reject me- so I said it was a joke and I know, I know, I’m so, so stupid, but say you like me back and I might just kiss you.”
For seconds that felt like eons, Roman stayed silent.
“Oh God, please do. I like you back, I have for a long time actua- mmf-!”
Before he was even done talking, Virgil had grabbed the collar of his pyjamas- a red t-shirt, with a crown placed in the center because this boy just cannot stop getting more adorable- and pulled him forward.
Their lips met, and Virgil’s heart melted. He moved his hands to caress Roman’s face. He felt warm- content, even, which couldn’t be true because he was Anxiety and Anxiety never felt content without a thousand other thoughts harassing him- but he was free from negative feelings, head empty as all he processed was Roman’s lips on his and that he was feeling loved.
He slowly separated from the boy, gasping for air and fighting the urge to dive back in and kiss him again- because holy fuck he had kissed Roman!
“I thought- I thought you didn’t like me back.” Roman whispered, voice cracking in the middle. Virgil shook his head vehemently.
“I- fuck no, Ro’, that’s impossible. I- fuck- you’re great, Ro’, I adore you.”
Roman broke out into a grin, leaning his forehead against Virgil’s.
“I adore you, too.”
#fwsa#ts spoilers#flirting with social anxiety#prinxiety#sanders sides#ts roman#roman sanders#roman#patton#*VERY BRIEFLY*#ts virgil#virgil sanders#virgil#first kiss#love confessions#confession#kiss#2k words#2000 words#not to flex but like#:p#roman angst#roman sanders angst#roman sanders fanfiction#prinxiety fanfiction#prinxiety fanfic#virgil angst#virgil sanders angst#virgil sanders fanfiction#sasi
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Attention | Roman Sionis x Victor Zsasz x Male!Reader
"i really love your writings. could you write something where the reader, victor, and roman are in a relationship, but they feel as if they aren't getting enough attention so they start to become distant?" anon
summary; You feel like Roman and Victor don’t include you enough or pay enough attention to you, so you started distancing yourself. They end up talking to you about this.
notes; Daddy!Kink; Polyamourous/-sexual realtionship; Mentions of Sex; Mentions of Murder; Emotional Hurt/Comfort; Fluff; Communication; Being kissed relentlessy by two men at the same time.
When you've met Roman and Victor, they've already been in a relationship with each other for a couple of years. You had felt like you were intruding, but as they both started taking an interest in you, Roman more than Zsasz, though, you thought that perhaps it wasn't so after all. You loved them both, a lot, and you've been sure that they both felt anything similar towards you, too. Yet, as time went on, you couldn't really tell anymore.
It has always been Roman and Victor first, you second. That was just how they worked. They've known each other for so long already and neither of them were really what anyone would call 'conventional' partners. So, you were used to feeling a little left out at times, but most of the time, Roman especially made an effort in including you and showering you in affection and what-not to make up for it. Zsasz wasn't really an affectionate person, though he tried and you appreciated it.
Now though, you had to admit that it just wasn't enough anymore. It's almost been a year and they still seemed to forget you were even there sometimes. You also wanted and needed attention and it felt like you were barely getting any of it. It was frustrating and you didn't really know what to do about it. You didn't exactly fancy the thought of leaving them. You loved them after all and you weren't willing to throw all of that away just because you felt like you were an after-thought most of the time.
Without really thinking about it, you started to become distant towards them, though. That was how it worked for you. You've barely had any control over it. Frankly, you didn't mind it too much just then. Perhaps those two would notice something off and realise their mistake, or at least bother talking to you about this relationship for once.
Sitting on the chaise longue, like so very often, and reading a book, you really felt the loneliness, such as this nagging feeling of not being good enough for them, kick in. You could barely concentrate on what you were reading. With a frustrated sigh, you closed the book and laid it down on the table beside you.
Roman and Victor were out, taking care of business, like they did so very often. Usually, they would come home from something like that either satisfied already, or leading you to the bedroom with them and fucking you silly with the arousal of having killed someone. You wondered what it would be that day. It's actually been a while since they have come home and included you in their after-business activities. Your heart clenched painfully at that thought.
Would they get rid of you, soon enough? Have you ceased to satisfy them properly and that's why they paid even less attention to you now? Or was it perhaps your own fault by distancing yourself from them, rather than talking to them like adults?
You had to admit that your automatic action of distancing yourself probably wasn't as subtle as you wanted it to be. For one, you barely kissed them on your own anymore, always waiting for them to initiate it and then you stopped it soon enough; you barely said your usual little phrases like 'I love you', or 'I'm so happy to know you', or similar things; and you stopped using pet names for either of them. They felt wrong on your lips at that point. You felt so alienated from Roman and Victor.
Lost in your thoughts, you didn't notice the door opening and closing, nor did you notice the two subjects of your every thought standing over you, until Roman brushed your hair back with a gentle hand.
"What is it, sweet boy?" He asked you softly.
You froze.
Roman bodily shifted you, so that he fit between your head and the chaise longue's headrest, positioning your head on his thigh. Zsasz lifted your legs and sat down, putting your legs over his thighs, leaving a hand on yours. Sionis continued to brush your hair back gently, looking down on you.
You felt a little light-headed, not knowing what was going to happen, or if it was even real.
"Tell Daddy what's going on with you lately, hm? Victor and I are actually getting a little concerned with you, baby."
Victor nodded, rubbing your thigh, to let you know that apparently what Roman said was true.
Suddenly feeling ashamed of your previous behaviour, you turned your head to face the backrest's cushion. You would have loved to just bury your face in it and perhaps vanish completely into the chaise longue. Roman gently, yet forcefully, stopped you from pressing your face into the cushion and turned it back straight ahead, so you looked directly into his face again.
"Don't think we haven't noticed your little act of distance. Is it something we've done lately? Have we hurt you in any way? Baby, you've got to talk to us. Otherwise we can't change anything. 'Kay?"
"Roman's right. You're barely spending time with us anymore. And if we don't know why, we can't do shit about it," Victor said sternly.
He was usually so quiet, only really talking to Roman, and even then he wasn't all too talkative. That really drove home to you that they were serious about this, that they were actually concerned.
You swallowed thickly and sighed, feeling exposed. Then you explained your situation, feelings and thoughts to them. They kept quiet while you were talking, occasionally squeezing, rubbing or stroking the spot their hands laid on respectively.
When you were done explaining, you felt a little relieved to have finally said it all out loud, but there was still this pending feeling of complete doom looming over you.
Roman was the first to speak, "Listen, y/n, I admit that we are devoted to each other first and foremost, and then everyone and everything else comes after. Frankly, I thought we were including you quite well all this time, but perhaps my view of it is a little different of course. I'm not saying you're lying or anything, baby. Anyway, I- we are very much devoted to you, too, 'kay? We wouldn't have kept you around for so long if we weren't."
Before you could add anything, Roman looked at Zsasz expectantly.
"I don't have much else to add. But yeah, what Roman said. Fuck knows I'd have definitely killed you by now if I didn't like you."
"Charming, Victor," Roman said dryly. "Nevermind. We're going to change this. I promise, we'll pay more attention to you from now on and make sure you don't feel so left out anymore. Does that sound acceptable, sweet boy?"
"Yeah, yes, it does. I'm really sorry about this. A-about being so childish about it."
"Can't say we're any better most of the time," Roman muttered.
It made you smile. "Thank you. For listening. For not casting me aside."
"Of course, our little prince." Roman leaned down and kissed your forehead gently.
Victor followed suit and leaned over to you and pressed a kiss to your cheek and then your lips.
They continued on like that for a bit, just pressing sweet, gentle kisses all over your face. Your forehead, your temple, your cheekbones, your cheeks, your nose, your lips, the corner of your lips, your chin. It was all showered in little kisses. Roman nipped at your ear a couple of times, too, making you flinch, which made him and Victor laugh at you.
It was beautiful and you felt so carefree for the time being. Sure, those two didn't exactly say that they loved you, but they sure as fuck made sure to show it right then and there. They also continued to do it long after that initial talk.
#tw daddy kink#polyamourous#polysexual#x male reader#x male!reader#male reader#male reader insert#roman sionis#roman sionis x male reader#roman sionis x you#roman sionis x y/n#roman sionis fanfiction#roman sionis imagine#victor zsasz#victor zsasz x reader#victor zsasz x male reader#victor zsasz fanfiction#victor zsasz imagine#zsaszmask#ewan mcgregor#ewan mcgregor x male!reader#ewan mcgregor x reader#ewan mcgregor fanfiction#ewan mcgregor imagine#chris messina#chris messina x reader#chris messina fanfiction#chris messina imagine
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THE LAND OF GODS AND DEVILS, a sequel.
—part ii.
word count: 9.2k
rating: m for now, rating will change in later chapters as things develop, tags will be updated accordingly.
warnings: naughty language, massively canon-divergent, roman gets his own tag because he’s a fucking nutso, canon-typical violence, established relationship that might not be the healthiest, age gap, domestic murder family. if you’re here i imagine you know exactly what he’s about.
notes: hello! it has been a hot minute since i updated, but i promise i am not dead. i just went on a real vacation and juggling two longfic projects at once is (surprise) very time consuming! but i am here with chapter two. it's a lot of roman pretending not to be jealous when he's actually seething inside (we love to see it), as well as a few little drops of intrigue. yes, i know, i TOO wanted an entire longfic about roman and varya just making out between dramatic proclamations of their violent devotion for each other, but alas, alack.
special thank you to my beta @starcrier who of course helped me proof a good portion of this, and is eternally my cheerleader and the loml, as well as @shallow-gravy who put her eyes on the very very rough draft of this when i wanted to bash my head into the top of the desk a-la-roman's theatrics. without you this chapter would not have happened!
and thank you to everyone who has read this so far! carry your throne was truly my baby and so getting to write a sequel for it is the most incredible feeling. your support means the world to me. <3
Roman did not like sharing his things.
It was perpetually difficult enough to have let Varya waltz around the club so that she might have happily enjoyed being lavished attention on (attention that was, to be kept in mind, not his)—but watching a stranger, an interloper from her past, indulge himself in her, that was excruciating. Because that’s what it was, in the end; less about his girl enjoying herself and more about people enjoying her, realizing they would never have her, that she would always be his.
So as Irina took the twins back upstairs and Roman ushered her back into the throng of partygoers, he did so with intent; Roman watched Varya wind her way from person to person, lingering at their friend Dorian—dutiful member of the press always content to show her in a good light—before she and Maxim connected.
Roman watched them. He watched the way Maxim beamed at her, the way he ducked his head to hear her say something. He laughed and rocked back on his heels a little, and when Varya brought the glass to her lips, Roman saw it—saw Maxim’s eyes dart down to her mouth, their ascent short-lived as he busied his hand with sweeping a stray curl from her face. Maxim seemed very comfortable touching Varya, he thought. Men were never comfortable touching Varya. They were either—he had found, at least—aware of her proclivity for having hands cut off or (what he could only argue was the most correct deterrent) understanding of the simple politeness that came with not putting your hands on another man’s woman.
More than anyone, Roman appreciated having the things which others could not, so that he could be envied: but this?
This was treasonous. Poisonous. Heretical. Not in my fucking house.
Puzzling yet was Varya’s willingness to let her childhood friend conduct himself in such a way. She was a greedy thing, his girl; he knew that she so loved the attention, preening and glowing under the adoration. Greedy and hungry for love. Had she always been so active a participant in the act of touching, of being touched? Even by a stranger?
Not a stranger, he reminded himself tartly. Childhood friend, the man whose father she killed. That’s two fathers now, in her ledger—her own and someone else’s. And petulantly, he thought it a bit unsettling that it was a bond he could never have with her—dear old dad was already dead as a fucking doornail, wasn’t he? No chance Varya would want to ice him for Roman a second time.
He had determined to swallow his pride (impressive, gracious, generous) and make his way over when Dorian swept in; Dorian, preening and wrapping his arms around Varya from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder and making the noisy announcement, “Stealing her away, thank you!” just before he steered her past Maxim. There, the crowd shifted and scooted out of the way to reveal the birthday cake getting wheeled out on its little tray, decorated in gem tones and sparklers.
The determination to close the distance between himself and their newfound associate did not abate, even with Dorian’s well-timed interjection. As he wove through the crowd of milling partygoers, accepting compliments on his good work, he waited until he got within a foot or two of Maxim to stop. Everyone was applauding the cake. Everyone was having a great time looking at the expensive cake glimmering under the oh-so-obnoxious chandelier, but mostly he thought they were applauding his wife.
So, Roman clapped. He clapped, because the cake was out and the sparklers were fizzing and popping prettily, dancing golden light across his wife’s delighted face. He clapped, because everyone else was clapping, too. He clapped, and he flashed an all-teeth smile at Varya from over the top off the elaborately decorated cake (tasteful, not gaudy, of course).
Over the fizzing and popping, and without taking his eyes off of Varya, he said to Maxim, “Did you fuck my wife?”
Maxim clapped. He clapped, too, and he stood there for a moment and blinked a few times and replied, “What?” His accent was thicker than Varya’s, and thicker than Ilarion’s had been.
“You speak English, don’t you?” Roman snipped, his words and perhaps some of his annoyance masked by the party chatter. Varya shrieked delightedly when Dorian dabbed frosting on her nose. “I asked if you’ve fucked my wife?”
The blonde cleared his throat. He rubbed the back of his neck, apparently grateful that the attention had gone from clapping now to cutting the cake. In the corner of his eye, Roman could see Zsasz lurking—watching, keeping an eye, making sure he didn’t need to intervene on Roman’s behalf. Always a good man.
“No, Mr. Sionis,” Maxim replied, talking over the din of music and laughter.
Good, Roman thought. And then: “Do you want to?”
“Want to what?”
“Fuck,” Roman bit out, “my wife?”
Maxim barked out a laugh. He looked caught off-guard by the question—like maybe he wasn’t sure if Roman was asking to threaten or offering to join their marital bed—and then he said, “You have put me in an uncomfortable position. If I say no, I am insulting my childhood friend. If I say yes, I am insulting my new boss.”
There was something about this that flared a little spike of victory in Roman’s chest. Yes, that was right—he was Maxim’s new boss. And Maxim should be nervous about pissing him off, shouldn’t he?
“But,” the blonde plunged on, “I imagine having something that other people want feels good, does it not?”
His eyes narrowed. He smiled thinly. What the fuck was that supposed to mean? “Yeah,” he agreed, “it sure fucking does.”
There was a moment where it looked as though the other man was going to say something, his mouth opening but no words coming out, brows knitting together at the center of his forehead; but then silk and warm stretches of skin were filling up Roman’s vision, Varya having swept around to come to him, eyes bright. They’d only been at the party for a little while, but already his fingers were itching—he wanted, having stood by idly while greedy hands brushed against his Varya, and it was time to erase them all, he reasoned. Wipe her clean of them as best he knew how.
Still, she had not looked so happy in a while, he thought. Varya always beamed around the twins, practically glowing radioactive from the inside out, but it had been a long time since he’d seen her so delighted without them in her arms. And surely, this was a testament to his doing—his meticulous, flawless planning, regardless of whatever wrench Maxim Kuznetsov was trying to throw. Yes, Roman thought, he had done exceptionally, in this as in all things.
“Romy,” she said sweetly, “are you playing nice?”
“I’m always nice, kitten,” he demurred, sliding his arms around her waist and nosing the hair at her temple automatically. Every time she came around, the gravitational pull was inevitable—hands on, hands on, hands on, making sure everybody knew exactly who she belonged to. “But you can ask your little friend, if you’re worried I’ve hurt his feelings.”
He said, you can ask, but he kissed her after he said it, purring against her mouth and keeping her otherwise preoccupied; when she did pull away, still encircled in his arms, she smoothed her hand along the exposed skin of his sternum and looked inquisitively at Maxim.
Roman mimicked the tilt of her head. The blonde regarded him for a moment, and then Varya, and then smiled.
“Your husband is very accommodating, Varushka,” he told her, shrugging as if to say, and what else would he be? “I have never met a man like him.”
He felt his mouth downturn—Varushka, the same pet name Ilarion had used with her. It was one thing to accept that his wife’s twin brother would always be held in high regard in her memory, that he’d had to endure the Varushkas and the closeness that they had shared that purposefully, intimately excluded him.
“That’s because there’s nobody like me,” Roman idled, despite the venom thrumming in his veins. He was cool. He was cool and fine and totally cool. Varya hummed and planted a kiss against the slope of his jaw; her nose brushed the hollow of his throat, more than content to remain there.
But even though their exchange remained pleasant, for a second, the blonde Russian regarded him with the same deadpan, venomous gaze that Ilarion had so often. It was so close to the way his wife’s twin had looked at him, in fact, that the disdain which had been almost exclusively reserved for Ilarion himself now prickled up the back of his throat like a bile—instinctual, muscle memory.
He had seen the same look crossing the faces of the men from St. Petersburg, flown all the way to Gotham to meet their new pakhan, as Varya had put it: disdain. We’re not for you, those fleeting glances said, despite the acknowledgment in all other things that they were. What do we want with some American gangster?
He was vaguely aware of Varya and Maxim saying something, exchanging words, but their voices had dulled to the cartoonish wah wah wah of an old-time cartoon, with Varya’s occasional laugh vibrating against his sternum. Maxim waved a hand dramatically. There was ink, there; he hadn’t noticed it before. He’d been too busy inspecting the man’s stupid fucking face, trying to find the lip of his mask somewhere in there. False fucking face, that’s all it was.
And yet: Roman could not help but feel a little burn of intrigue at the sight of the inked Cyrillic letters on the back of the man’s hand.
“—stairs, my darling?”
Varya’s voice bled through the dull static that had overtaken his mind. He glanced at her, reaching up and tracing the slope of her jaw with his thumb, his other fingers splaying along the spine of her neck. Obediently, her chin tilted. She was complacent like this—docile, even; he could have snapped her neck if he wanted, dug his nails into that warm, dusky skin and watched the blood well, and she would have let him—so much so that he wondered at it for a moment. All of his hard work, all of his tempering, cupped right there in his hand; she was his.
Rather than admit to having checked out of their conversation, Roman pressed the pad of a gloved thumb against her lower lip and deferred, “Whatever you want, kitten.”
Briefly, the thought that he had agreed to let Maxim into his loft occurred. Oh, what a dreadful thought.
“Then it’s settled,” she replied. “You can stay while the party goes on, of course, Maxi.”
Maxim lifted his head, regarding them with a gaze that was no longer venomous, but playful. “Of course.”
“And you’ll leave the address of where you’re staying with Armazd?”
“If you want it, I will.” He cocked his head, smiling politely. “Goodnight, the both of you. I am happy to finally put a face to the name Roman Sionis.”
What the fuck is it with these people, he thought wearily, and with no absence of annoyance. This is just how it had been before—everyone saying things beneath the things they were saying, layers and layers and layers, piling up over each other. Didn’t any of these stupid fucking gun dogs say anything exactly the way it was?
“Yes,” Roman agreed, “I bet you are.”
With great purpose—and having determined that Varya was quite done with the evening—he planted his hands on her hips and turned her, steering her towards the doors which exited out of the club and into the hallway housing the elevator. It was her birthday, after all; there was nothing he could do except whatever it was she wanted.
“Goodnight, Maxim,” he said over his shoulder, steering the brunette in his grasp toward the door. A distressed ugh! sounded to his left, and he turned to see Dorian glaring at him accusingly.
“You get her all the time, Roman,” the journalist announced. “Surely you can spare her for a little longer?”
“Afraid I can’t,” he replied over his shoulder, squeezing Varya’s hip when she stifled her laughter. “You see Dorian, close to a year ago, Varya and I decided that we had plenty of other uses for cake to be explored on our birthdays—”
Another disgusted sound came, but it was too late; Roman was already nudging Varya through the doors to the hallway, and down to the elevator. Once the door clicked shut behind them, it was quiet; it was the one area of the building where it seemed like the air conditioning didn’t quite reach, having so many accesses to the outside, and so the air already felt a little humid and muggy.
“Oh, we forgot the cake,” Varya pouted, trailing ahead of him. She’d collected the hem of her silk dress loosely in one hand, keeping it from the floor as she wandered to the elevator to push the button. The neon red of the Exit sign cut across one side of her, illuminating her in half crimson and half shadow. It reminded him of the night he’d come back to the loft to find her covered in another man’s blood, kitchen knife in hand.
And mine, he thought. Varya Astakhova, the gem of St. Petersburg, only living heir to the Astakhov gun-running fortune, his wife.
“Darling,” she purred, breaking him out of his thoughts, “are you going to just stand there all night?”
“Maybe,” he replied idly. “Maybe I will just stand here all night and stare at my wife, hm? Who would stop me?”
“Well, certainly not me,” she demurred, turning to look at him fully now. “But you can hardly kiss me from there. And what am I suppose to do, go without cake and without your hands on me?”
The elevator dinged and the doors slid open. Roman thought about the way Maxim had looked at him—just for that tiny split second—all of the disdain and venom welling in his gaze before it was wiped away. Your husband is very accommodating, I’ve never met a man like him. And that fucking tattoo on his hand. It nagged at him, dragged his attention away from the very, very delicious task at hand.
“Roman?”
“You go,” he announced. “I’ll be up in just a minute.”
A plush, ruby lower lip pouted out. Roman sidled over to the elevator, planting a gloved hand on the doorway so that the doors wouldn’t close, and she prompted, “What could you have possibly forgotten when all you need is right here?”
“You are most spectacular,” Roman agreed, reaching up and twisting a curl around his finger. “But it’s just a quick thing. Don’t worry that pretty head, kitten. I’ll be up in no time, and you had better—”
When he leaned in, their noses brushed; Varya hooked her fingers in the space between the buttons of his collared shirt and tugged a little, playfully, humming sweetly.
“—have this dress off,” he finished, voice pitching low and warm, “by the time I get up there.”
“And what if I don’t?” The cloying, saccharine tone of her voice belied the little spark of rebellion in her words. Roman made a pleasant sound against her mouth, a humid warmth plunging down his spine when she closed the tiny space between them to kiss him; it was entirely unhurried, and on instinct his free hand went to the small of her back, pulling her more flush against him as her lips parted prettily beneath his to sigh.
He said into the kiss, “Why don’t you try it and find out?”
“Is it a test?” Roman felt her smile. “I love tests.”
“Get upstairs,” he growled, unable to resist a final kiss. “Wicked thing.”
Varya did pull back, reluctantly and with a dramatic, long sigh. She’d always had a thing for the dramatics. “Fine, I will go upstairs all alone,” she drawled. “Don’t keep me waiting, Romy.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
He stepped back, dropping his hand from the elevator door and turning around to head back to the club. The party was still in full swing; people wouldn’t even begin to start leaving for another few hours, patiently and dutifully babysat by Armazd and Zsasz (well, mostly Armazd—Zsasz was not good at being ‘patient’ or ‘dutiful’ if it didn’t include face-carving). It was like having three nannies on payroll, instead of just the one.
The door swung shut behind him. People chattered brightly over the music, lingering around tables in clustered groups. He could see at least half a dozen mobsters and their families, associates of Varya’s from overseas, socialites she had charmed and wealthy businessmen determined to get into their good graces before the weapons chokehold came into full effect.
But there was only one man he wanted to see.
Dorian Young had been smitten with Varya since the moment they’d met, through Roman—and since then, they’d been nearly inseparable. Dorian had even done her the kindness of writing Ilarion a flattering obituary. It would have been annoying, if Roman considered Dorian a threat in the least. He did not.
“Dorian,” he barked out, catching the brunette’s attention. He smiled, full-teeth and as charmingly as he could. “Buddy-mine. I have a favor to ask of you.”
“Oh?” Dorian arched a brow loftily. “A favor outside of the eternal wisdom of Gotham’s madonna, Roman? How scandalous. You know I can’t resist a special in.”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself.” Roman adjusted one of his gloves absently, glancing around the room before inclining his head and taking a few steps outside of the cluster of milling partygoers. He didn’t have many concerns about being overheard, given the noise level, but it was better safe than sorry. “You have access to certain records, don’t you?”
Now two perfectly-manicured brows arched upward before Dorian cleared his throat, dark eyes fluttering in a bat at innocence.
“I’m a journalist, Roman,” he intoned somberly. “If someone were to give me access to records that were anything but public, it would be a grave and disgusting infringement on the American Privacy—”
“Yeah yeah yeah, shut the fuck up,” Roman interjected, waving his hand. “I don’t give a shit about that. How about this: you don’t use the records you aren’t able to access, and you don’t dig up literally everything you can on Maxim Kuznetsov.”
“The ex-boyfriend?” Dorian tsked his tongue. “Roman, green is not your color.”
“Hey? Dorian? Don’t be a fucking moron.”
“I’m just saying.”
“Well just say you’ll do it.”
“You mean,” Dorian amended, “that I won’t.”
Roman let out an exasperated noise, clapping a hand onto the man’s shoulder and giving him a little jostle that was meant to convey he wished that he could instead be strangling him in that moment. Varya would have been upset if he did. Dorian flashed him a pearly grin.
“Consider it done. Or not-done, as the case may be.” He took a swig of his drink, sucking his teeth. “Anything I should be on the look-out for?”
“Any red flags. Suspicious shopping behavior. Outgoing calls to private numbers. He’ll likely have two separate phones—one burner, one not.” Roman dropped his hand from Dorian’s shoulder. “Armazd will have his address, if you want to get that from him before you leave tonight. And—one more thing.”
The journalist looked at him expectantly, waiting.
“Not a word,” he continued. “To anyone. But especially not to Varya.”
“If you’re sure,” Dorian ventured.
“The surest.”
It was when he turned to depart the party—for real, this time; he was tired of waiting to unwrap his wife—that Dorian said, “Roman?”
A deep, calming breath. I need Dorian, he reminded himself, and V’s fond of him. Roman pulled another one-eighty. “Yes, Dorian, beloved of my wife?”
“How is Varya?” Dorian’s eyes narrowed. “I mean, really?”
The question was not one that Roman had anticipated. Why would she be anything other than great, glowing, in love with her life? Sure, the last year had been full of turmoil—but they had come out of it fine. Better than fine. Roman had gotten everything he had wanted, and Varya—well, much the same, hadn’t she?
Dorian’s prying reminded him of the way Varya’s body had stilled, the way her expression had hardened, that dark, wild look slipping into her eyes when the lights in the club had blinked on to reveal the surprise party. She’d looked frigid, the softness wiped clean from her in that split moment.
“She’s fine,” Roman replied after a minute. “I mean—she’s great. What do you mean?”
“I can’t get a good read on her. You know,” Dorian pointed out. “And she did watch her supposed-to-be-dead daddy unload a round into her twin brother while she was drugged to the gills on ketamine.”
Well, when you put it like that, Roman thought dryly.
“Some of us, Dorian,” he said primly, “are able to rise above our trials and tribulations and come out better, hm?”
The journalist smiled. He didn’t looked swayed by Roman’s words, but eventually he said, “I’ll contact you as soon as I find out anything.”
“Good man.”
It was only a few minutes from the club’s main floor up to the loft, but those few minutes felt like an eternity; stretching out, impossibly long and endless in front of him. Varya’s birthday was supposed to have been a problem-less occasion, and now he had several problems lining themselves up in front of them. Chiefly, Kuznetsov. And the rest of them, too, but mostly Maxim.
Roman tugged the gloves from his hands and shrugged the suit jacket from his shoulders as the doors to the loft slid open, the gentle ding announcing his arrival. Faintly, he could hear the classical music that Varya favored to play in the twins’ room as they slept; there would be a little speaker on the table closest to her side of the bed, so that she could rouse the second either of them needed her, but they were good babies, like she’d said; it was rare when they didn’t sleep through the night.
He tossed the articles he’d disrobed from onto the long dining table as he passed, nudging the door to the bedroom open.
“Ah,” he sighed, eyes roaming expanses of warm, dusky skin exposed to him as Varya lay stretched out on the bed, “I see we went with behaving tonight?”
“I told you,” she replied demurely, “I love a good test. I can hardly resist the challenge.” Her eyes glittered playfully, and she propped herself up on her elbows, the silk of her underclothes rustling in a way that beckoned him—his hands, his mouth. “You didn’t bring any cake up?”
A quick laugh billowed out of Roman as he sidled over, stepping out of his shoes before climbing onto the bed. “It’s vanilla, you know. Not chocolate. It would have been sacrilege, in memory of our first big fight.”
“Was it chocolate?”
“Oh, yes,” he told her gravely. “I’d never forget. Don’t you remember? You were a terrible brat to me, and then you didn’t speak to me for a week, and then you showed up with a cake—”
“Terrible brat?” She laughed, feigning insult. “On my birthday, no less.”
He grinned. Leaning down, he pressed a leisurely, open-mouthed kiss to the top of her sternum, hooking one hand in the crook of her knee to yank her down the bed so that she was more firmly under him, eliciting a playful little shriek out of her before he tugged the tie of her robe loose.
“Your birthday, yet here I am, unwrapping a present,” he murmured, leaning down and pressing a kiss to the slope of her jaw. He rumbled, pleased, “I’ve been thinking about you all day, you know.”
Varya made a sweet little sound. “Is that so?”
“Mmhm.” Roman kissed down the pillar of her throat, dragging his tongue over a faded love-bite bruise. He’d need to renew that. “Especially when you put on that dress. Admittedly, I am a bit disappointed—I was looking forward to cutting it off of you if you misbehaved.”
“For someone who spent all day thinking about me,” she murmured coyly, “you certainly spent long enough coming up here.”
Roman paused in what he was doing—his fingers hooked in the top hem of her underwear, scandalous things that they were—and glanced up at her. He was trying to gauge where she was actually at, emotionally, but true to what Dorian had said, it was almost impossible to get a read on her.
“It’s just business, baby,” he replied.
“Oh. Of course.”
“You see? I told you not to worry about it.”
“Yes,” Varya agreed, “what would I know of business?”
Roman groaned, pressing his forehead to the smooth plane of her sternum. The scent of her jasmine perfume washed over him, and even though he was this close to indulging himself (which he, above all others, deserved the most), he knew Varya wouldn’t let go of the conversation so easily.
“It’s nothing,” he insisted. He let the fabric of her underwear snap back into place against her hip bone, sliding down her body to kiss down her abdomen. “Focus on enjoying your birthday,” he added, “and let your man worry about everything else, hm?”
Varya’s lashes fluttered lightly, eyes watching him hungrily as he worked his way lower and lower still.
“Ambitious,” she murmured, “to think that I will let go of it so easily.”
“Well,” Roman replied against her skin, “I suppose it’s lucky that I love tests, too. And I always—”
The thin, silky fabric of her underwear made the most delicious sound as it ripped, tearing satisfyingly. Varya made a soft, sweet sound, and he glanced back up at her.
“—pass with flying colors.”
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
In his experience, Roman found that the best time to approach Varya about things was first thing in the morning. If he was exerting any amount of true self-awareness, of course, he would have acknowledged that “approaching” Varya about anything was not about the time of day, but rather how it was done—a skill Roman thought he had only honed in their short time together.
It was nearly ten; they’d roused late, thanks to the previous evening’s festivities—including an after-hours indulgence that Roman was more than pleased to drag out— and now Varya was chatting conversationally with Zsasz, who provided minimal noises between mouthfuls of food. It was as though her annoyance from the previous night had faded with the glow of morning, which left only the bones that Roman had left to pick.
Therefore, in a show of good faith, he let the chatter carry on for a little while before he decided to Broach(TM).
“So,” he said, sitting in his usual spot at the head breakfast table, “Maxim is funny.”
To his right, the brunette hummed and idly stirred her coffee. The gentle clink-clink of her spoon against the side of the mug was almost soothing; little creature comforts Roman hadn’t realized very often that he truly liked.
“I don’t remember you ever mentioning him,” Roman continued casually.
“I do not like to talk about boring things.” Varya’s brow was furrowed, lips pressing into a little line as she read the newspaper. “Pass me the cream, my love?”
She was feigning disinterest, but he thought she might have been listening more closely than she let on; one wolfish little ear swiveled in his direction, always.
He did as she asked. “He has an interesting tattoo on his hand.”
“I did not notice.”
“No?”
Varya finally tilted her head to look at him, dark eyes inquisitive. She didn’t ask what it was she was thinking, not right away; instead, she waited, did that thing where she let him sit in silence, maybe in the hopes that he’d fill it with his own chatter. He didn’t, of course. He wasn’t stupid.
“Romy,” she said sweetly, setting the paper down and resting her chin in her hand as she gazed at him, “won’t you just ask me what you want to ask me?”
There was no room to stop the irritated noise that came out of him at her words. He scoffed and settled more comfortably in his chair, lifting his chin a little and watching her.
“Or we can play the little game,” she acquiesced, as though she were speaking to a particularly tedious child. “You don’t really care about Maxim’s tattoo. You just care what I think of him.” She fluttered her lashes. “Hm?”
“No,” he replied tartly. “I’m curious about the tattoo.” He paused. “And also what you think of him.”
“I think he is boring.”
“Well, I could have told you that.”
A smile curved her mouth, delicate and fine a gesture as gossamer spread across those soft, Renaissance-features. That painting of her that had been done in the ballroom of the Astakhov mansion was still around somewhere, wasn’t it? Not that he needed a painting when he had the real thing, but maybe he’d hang it in the foyer, as a reminder to anyone who just happened to pass by.
“As far as I’m concerned,” Roman continued idly, “this man of yours—”
“My man, is he?”
“—is just one more obstacle to getting what I wanted. How do you think he’s going to react when he finds out that you put his daddy in the ground?”
“If,” Varya replied. “And what do you mean, obstacle?”
Another scoff came out of him. “Varya,” he chided, voice welling with a patronizing tone, warm and buttery, “come now.”
“Roman,” she replied. Her tone mimicked his. “Explain it to me like I am five.”
“I know the oh-so-omniscient lords of St. Petersburg and Moscow are dragging their fucking feet because they don’t like me.”
“You are trying too hard.” She settled back, dipping a bit of cream into her coffee and stirring again. Clink-clink. It offered him no comfort now; it had become a way for Varya to dismiss him. Don’t you see, Roman, how busy I am? “They are like cats. If you try too hard to gain their affections, they will balk and bolt. They hate being coddled, except by a woman. It’s terribly outdated, but what can you do?”
“I’m—” A sharp, incredulous noise came out of him. “I haven’t spoken more than a handful of words to the lot of them!”
“You see? That is already too much.”
“Well, I don’t want them to like me,” he managed out, feeling the bubbling frustration rising up in him. “I couldn’t give a shit if they like me or not. I want them to accept that leadership is changing hands and they have a new boss to answer to, now.” He leaned forward, forearms rested on the table. “And I know Daddy Astakhov liked to brand his things, hm? So what’s Maxim’s tattoo mean?”
Varya leaned forward, too. “I do not know,” she replied evenly, “and I wish you would stop bringing that man up in my presence.”
“I can’t very well erase him from the conversation completely when I’m inheriting his business.”
“My,” she snapped out viciously, suddenly, “you are inheriting my business, Roman.”
It was just a split second. It was only a split second of venom welling up in her expression, suddenly so wicked that not even Roman was shielded from it; it was worse, now, than it had been before. Those times he’d seen the switch inside of her flip had been under great duress. Was this duress to her, now?
Women, Roman thought, watching her smooth dark hair from her face and collect herself. Perhaps motherhood had not made her soft, but rather emotionally volatile. He couldn’t afford to look more hysterical than his wife, so he waited—with great patience and grace, he thought—for her. She cinched the silk robe at her waist more snugly.
“You know that I am happy to do so,” she continued, as though she’d not just bitten his head off in front of Zsasz, “and that I have no problem with it. I just want...” Now, her voice trailed off, and she skimmed the pad of her index finger along the rim of her coffee cup before she picked up the newspaper again, as well as the red-ink ballpoint to her right. “I want it done right, that is all. And if you want something done right, you have to do it yourself.”
A buzzing sound vibrated from the marble hallway leader to the elevator. Roman was waiting for Varya to issue her apology (which she was certainly going to do), and Varya wasn’t looking up from the newspaper.
“Who could be coming so early?” his wife idled, spurring on that molten-hot frustration inside of him as she continued to avoid the topic at hand. “Not someone you called on, Romy?”
The buzzer was the last thing that Roman wanted to think about, let alone deal with. He had much more on his mind; Varya’s elegant dodge of his questions, and—most importantly—her blatant dismissal of his concerns about their current timeline. She was all well and peachy over there, wasn’t she, drinking her coffee and reading her paper and not doing him the courtesy of looking at him?
She had always been a needler, Roman reasoned; she had always had a wild, stubborn streak in her. He’d watched her sit and push Ilarion’s buttons for an entire dinner, once, just to see him get to the edge of snapping at her. She was good at it. He liked it about her, liked watching her do it; might have even made a past-time out of the whole sport of it. How quickly can my little viper unravel a man? Place your bets, gentlemen, time ends when the idiot’s screaming his fucking head off in a public place.
And he would have been foolish to think that she never did it to him.
“Zsasz,” she said, without looking up from the paper, “be a darling and get that, won’t you?”
Zsasz, who had been sitting at the far end of the table watching all of this unfold the way a man might watch a trainwreck happen, moved to come to a stand. Roman barked out, “Stay,” and the movements stilled considerably, immediately. It was satisfying, at least, in an exchange which had been everything but up until then. He turned his gaze to the brunette on his right.
“Do you think I’m an idiot?” he said tersely. He gestured to Zsasz. “Sit.”
The blonde did. Roman could feel Victor’s eyes darting between them.
“Oh, darling, you are spoiling my morning.” Varya set the newspaper down on the table and smoothed it out primly, the thin paper edges fluttering between her fingers. “Why would you ever say such a silly thing?”
“Varya.”
“Surely you do not mean to.”
“V,” he snapped.
“Well, I do not know what you want me to say,” she replied after a minute, leaning back in her chair to finally look at him. “My father never deigned to share his operations with me. It was always ‘what a tedious child you are, Varvara’ this, and ‘since love and fear can hardly exist together, if we must choose between them, it is far safer to be feared than loved’ that. I mean, the man spent most of my life quoting Machiavelli at me. Do you think he told me what all of his little art projects meant?” She shrugged, picking her newspaper up again, ignoring the second sound of the buzzer. “You could just ask.”
The irritation spiked high and hot in his throat. Of course, he could just ask. Of course, he could, but he was the fucking boss, which meant doing things like asking an employee what a stupid fucking tattoo meant were below him. He replied tersely, “Why don’t you figure it out for me? Clerical work and employee management is your forte, after all.”
Varya hummed. It was a prim, musing hm, the sound she made when he’d said something she found to be particularly annoying. “If you wanted me to personally manage Maxim,” she demurred, glancing at him through dark, sooty lashes, “you only had to say.”
Somehow sensing this particular phrasing was not going to go over well with Roman (it wasn’t), Zsasz said, “Can I buzz ‘em up?”
“Yes,” Varya replied.
“No,” Roman insisted.
“Romy, there’s a guest.”
“I’m not through with you,” he snapped.
“I’m gonna buzz ‘em up,” Zsasz announced.
Roman felt the frustrated note rising in his throat, strangling it before it could quite make its way out of him. His jaw set; his eyes followed Zsasz on his way out of the main room and toward the elevator to—presumably—let up their guest (intruder). He drummed his fingers against the top of the dining table and said, “You think you’re very funny, don’t you?”
“Darling.” Varya leaned forward, elbows on the table, lacing her fingers together and cradling her chin atop them. She looked awfully pleased with herself, the little snake, that gigantic stone sitting on her finger. “If I knew what the tattoo meant, I would just tell you. Why not? I could tell you what the word is, but that is hardly ever what the tattoo actually means.”
Darling, she said, as though she hadn’t just snapped her teeth at him moments before. Roman sucked his teeth. Yes, it was very reasonable, he thought; Nikita had always cherished his son over his daughter, had always anticipated Ilarion taking over the business, as Varya had framed it—and even once, Ilarion had confirmed himself. He wanted you and only you, Ilya, and that’s why you couldn’t look at him when he died. That’s what she’d said, and the memory of that night—of Varya, needling the person she was closest to in the world, weaned from venom and taking so much pleasure from inflicting it on someone else—reminded him that there was still much about his wife left to be unearthed.
And it would be an unearthing. Roman had no doubt that it would be a graveyard he would be turning over, full of skeletons—not just a closet.
From the other room, the sound of an infant’s cry drifted down the hall. Varya’s gaze flickered to the space over Roman’s shoulder, behind him, and she came to a stand.
“I will ask, if you would like me to,” she told him, coming around the table and smoothing her hand along his shoulder in what was supposed to be a peace-making gesture. “But I don’t think there is a reason to bother yourself with the detail.”
He felt his mouth press into a thin line. Fine, he thought, fine, the tattoo isn’t a big deal. But what about everything else? “This is all taking a long time, V.”
“I know.” She paused, and then softened a little, all of her button-pushing and needling having dissipated for the moment; Varya leaned down and kissed his temple, and then the top of his cheekbone. “These things take patience, you know. It is not just a—used car business we are inheriting. There are processes, formalities, the like. The men have to know they can trust you.” She paused, tilting her head and regarding him with dark, inquisitive eyes. “You just have to trust me, Romy.”
Roman sighed. I do, he thought, turning his head to look at her. Don’t I?
Of course, he did. She was his wife, the mother of his children—and Roman hadn’t even wanted kids, not really. Not until he realized how much they, by proxy, made Varya belong to him. There was nothing quite so devoted as carrying someone’s child, was there? So yes; he did trust her, in the same capacity at which he supposed a man trusted a relatively-domesticated panther on a chain. Maybe just a smidge more than that. But enough to expect she’d bite off someone else’s hand, and not his.
“Fine,” is what he said, and the word still came out a little petulant. “I will. I do.” Reaching up, he snagged her wrist when she started to pull away, keeping her in place. She watched him expectantly.
When he didn’t say anything—just watched her, gauging her—she prompted playfully, “Are you going to scold me?”
Roman pressed the pad of his thumb to the pulse point on her wrist. His eyes narrowed. “I ought to, vicious girl. You just can’t resist pushing a button when you see it, can you?”
Her pulse jumped pleasantly under warm skin, whether by the term vicious girl or his touch, he didn’t know. It seemed that storminess had passed as soon as it had arrived; and though she hadn’t yet uttered the words I’m sorry, he almost preferred her like this. Coy.
“You would be bored, otherwise.” Her eyes glittered, mischievous. “Don’t you think?”
His fingers stayed curled around her wrist, but she didn’t try and pull away. Watching the flutter of her eyelashes, the way the corners of her mouth quirked upward in a smile, he felt nearly won over. How tedious, Roman thought, that even when he was irritated with her, he found her endearing. That’s amore.
“Don’t goad me,” he warned, and Varya smiled dreamily at him.
“I love you,” is what she replied, and then leaned down to kiss the corner of his mouth. “Let’s never fight again.”
He dropped his grip from her wrist and she stepped around his chair, the silk of her robe fluttering behind her as she started to the sound of babbling infants. The one or two cries that had roused her initially had melted down into baby-chat. Roman was reminded, once again, that they had a nanny on the payroll for seemingly no reason.
“Varya,” he called, taking the newspaper from where she’d left it on the table, “I mean it.”
Her voice drifted from down the hall: “Of course, Romy.”
The sound of the nursery door opening echoed, and then Varya’s voice; saccharine-sweet, honeyed and muffled by distance. He glanced over the front of the newspaper, but it was impossible to focus on the words—what did they matter, anyway? He didn’t give a fuck about what was going on in Gotham. He had bigger fish to fry. Bigger, Russian, potentially radioactive amalgams of different fish that seemed to be stalling on a deal that should have been up and done with already. Not to mention, one of those fish breaking off of the nightmare-fish and showing up, unannounced, sporting tattoos likely administered to him by Nikita Astakhov himself?
These things take patience.
Roman suppressed a scoff. Like he didn’t have patience. He’d been the most patient. Varya had dragged her feet for about a month after they’d put Ilarion in the ground, but after that, things had typically moved fast—the engagement, the twins. Everything except the thing Roman had been waiting for since the beginning. Of course, he’d never anticipated inheriting the business himself and had only gone into the whole thing wanting an exclusive deal, but now he knew better. He knew what was owed to him. He knew what belonged to him.
The elevator door down the main hall dinged. Roman didn’t bother stifling the sigh that wanted to come out of him; it was only ten in the morning, who could possibly need him and for what? He pushed the chair back from the table and came to a stand, sucking his teeth and prepping what he thought could only be the tranquil expression of a man ready to murder before Maxim stepped inside.
He blinked. The tranquility fled his face. Zsasz trailed in after him, looking uneasy. There was something about his expression that didn’t sit right with Roman, the hard lines of the blonde’s face setting him even further on edge. Would his suffering never end?
“Oh, Maximillian,” he greeted, keeping his voice the pinnacle of lazily annoyed. “Clocking in for work a little early, aren’t we? Over-achieving?”
“I am an early riser,” the blonde acquiesced. He looked genuinely apologetic, the fuckhead, in Dolce & Gabbana, no less. “I hope I did not disturb you.”
“A big wager to make, first day on the job.” Roman trailed Zsasz with his eyes, watching the blonde pace around the far end of the table. What had gotten into him since he’d gone to buzz their guest up? Idly, he sat back down at the table, resuming to glance over the words of the newspaper he couldn’t have given two shits about.
And he said nothing. He instead enjoyed, immensely, the act of letting Maxim stand there in silent uncertainty. It was probably almost a full minute before Maxim cleared his throat, prompting Roman to set his newspaper down with a sigh, as though it were very troubling that he had to stop this thing he didn’t even want to do.
“If you’re here to play catch-up with Varya, she’s busy today,” he deadpanned, turning his gaze reluctantly to where Maxim stood. “And every other day. Generally, I think it would be safe to assume she’s much too preoccupied to assist with whatever problems you might have; that type of work is beneath her now, you know.”
“I am sure being a mother and wife is more than enough to keep her busy,” Maxim agreed soberly.
“And transitioning the business in my name,” Roman replied pointedly.
The blonde shrugged, smiling a little. “Of course.”
He felt his eyes narrow. He leaned back in the chair, interlacing his fingers while his elbows rested on the armrests of the chair. It was impossible to figure out what it was about Maxim that Varya might have liked; the man was painfully well-mannered and non-confrontational, which Roman knew wasn’t her style at all.
Never mind that Varya had not once said that there was a romantic interaction between them. That didn’t matter. He knew how men looked at his wife, and Maxim had been a little too comfortable touching her for there to have been nothing at all.
“But, I did not come here to speak to Varya,” the Russian continued, taking a few steps toward the table. “I actually came here to speak to you, Roman.”
Roman blinked. Well, that wasn’t what he expected.
“What?” he asked flatly.
“I wanted to come and see if you were free today,” Maxim elaborated casually. “I was Nikita’s man. Now, I am yours. It only seems right I get to know you better.” He gestured with his hand. “I know you have more than enough help around here, and I was tied up in Turkey before, but...”
Roman’s lips pressed into a thin line. He saw no trace of yesterday’s venom in Maxim’s face, no indication that he was trying to be sarcastic or pull some kind of joke. Instead, Maxim’s face looked completely open and earnest.
“You’re here to ask me on a fucking lunch date,” he began, “and not Varya?”
“Varya,” the blonde replied demurely, “is not my boss.”
Huh, Roman thought. He swept his gaze over Maxim scathingly, and then looked at Zsasz, who remained unreadable. Well, wasn’t that just the most unhelpful thing? It did feel nice to hear Maxim say it, even if Roman would rather see him crying or begging or bleeding out.
“I’m busy today,” he replied after a moment, turning his attention back to Maxim. “But you can swing by the—”
“Maxim.” It was Varya’s voice. Roman turned to look at her. There was no baby in tow. This wouldn’t have been unusual, if Maxim had been a stranger; she tended to keep the twins as far out of reach of people she did not know as much as possible, nested away for safety. But Maxim had been her childhood friend, hadn’t he?
“Good morning,” Maxim greeted her warmly. “I was just asking Roman if he would—”
“I know what you were asking,” Varya interrupted. “You overestimate yourself, showing up to your boss’ home unannounced, don’t you think?”
Maxim looked about as lost as Roman felt; the sensation that he’d stepped into a fever dream very suddenly was washing over him. He looked at Zsasz. The blonde gave a little shrug, as though to say, Why the fuck would I know?
“Varushka,” Maxim ventured after a moment, “you know I did not mean...”
“I don’t know anything at all,” the brunette replied coolly. “You should have called ahead.” She paused, and then added purposefully: “Temka never showed up unannounced.”
Roman found himself in the very strange position of feeling...bad (?) for Maxim, standing there a little helplessly, the poor thing. Varya’s words had gutted him. He could only assume that she was referring to the blonde’s father when she said Temka, by the look on his face, and that—
Oh, you wicked thing, he thought, affection welling up inside of him as he looked at Varya, you know just how to unravel a man. Sticking a salted hot-poker straight into his grief-wound, aren’t you?
“I am sorry,” Maxim said after a minute. “I did not mean to be so thoughtless.”
“The transgression is not mine to forgive.” Varya swept around Roman then, sitting back down in her seat. She looked at him, expectant. “Roman?”
“Me?” he asked.
“It is as Maxim said,” she replied. “You are his boss, not me.”
He waited to see if there was some kind of strange undertow to her words, but he could find none; just Varya waiting, expectantly, for him to excuse Maxim’s showing up without having called ahead. It was odd, and he couldn’t figure out why it was that she was acting like this toward Maxim now—had it been the Varya is not my boss comment? Was she trying to make up for their little spat?
It was commonplace for nothing to be straightforward, with Varya. This was different.
“So,” she continued primly, turning to look at Maxim now, “apologize to your boss.”
“I am—” Maxim stopped, like he didn’t want to do it, drawing Roman’s gaze to him. Quite suddenly, Roman thought he knew exactly what his wife was doing; putting the blonde in a position where he’d have to put good faith behind his words. Varya is not my boss, he’d said, but did that matter if he couldn’t even apologize to Roman?
He finished, more smoothly now, “I am sorry, Roman.”
Roman beamed. “Insolence forgiven,” he replied, all thoughts of his disagreement with Varya gone now. He reached over the table, snagging her hand and dragging the pad of his thumb across the back of her hand. “As I was saying—I am busy today, but you are welcome to swing by the club later this evening. Before midnight. We get busiest just before the witching hour.”
Maxim ducked his head. “Of course.”
Varya’s nails skimmed Roman’s palm. She didn’t look up when she said, “Was there something else, Maxim?”
“I do not think so.”
“Then,” she replied sweetly, “have a lovely afternoon.”
A moment stretched where the blonde looked a little unsure, and then he cleared his throat and said, “Of course,” and excused himself down the hall. Varya circled something in the newspaper with her red-ink pen, her other hands still interlaced with Roman’s.
“Mr. Zsasz,” she began, “did you let Maxim up?”
Zsasz looked at Roman. “I didn’t,” he replied after a minute. “Armazd did.”
“Hm,” came the reply, even as she noted something in the margins of the paper.
“Were you apologizing for your tantrum, just now?” Roman asked. He would puzzle out why Armazd letting Maxim up was worthy of a hm later. Now, he could see the hint of a smile ticking the corners of Varya’s mouth upward, but she did not sway from whatever it was that had captured her attention in the news of Gotham; instead, she circled something absently.
Varya said, “Did you find it a suitable apology?”
He considered. “Well, I would have liked it better if you’d made him cry.”
“It would have spoiled my appetite,” she demurred, folding the newspaper primly and coming to a stand. “I am taking the twins to the park with Irina. And Zsasz too, if you’ll spare him. I won’t be back until late afternoon.”
“Late? Then you’d better come here, wife.” Roman tugged on her hand, watching her expression warm when he said wife. Once, he might have squinted at loaning Zsasz out to her. Now, he didn’t mind; especially if it gave a peace of mind that she and the twins be that more secure. “So that I can get my fill of you before you’re gone.”
The brunette laughed, letting him tug her down onto his lap. She carded the fingers of her free hand through his hair and brushed their noses together; it was all glowing affection, now, warmth buzzing under her skin.
“Oh, darling, now I want to leave quicker, and more often,” she murmured, “so that you’ll never have your fill of me.”
Roman supposed that was how she’d gotten him in the first place. Hooked him with being inaccessible, with being coveted—as if she had always known he was not a man could resist something considered off-limits—and now that he had her, he couldn’t get enough of her. He’d seen the way that others looked at her, and by proxy him; with want. With envy. Bruce Wayne could eat shit.
“Roman,” Varya said, “I want you to be careful when you are around Maxim.”
He paused, pulling back to look at her a little. She smoothed her hand over the slope of his collarbone affectionately.
“You are right,” she continued. “When Maxim finds out what I did—if he does—he will be angry about it. He is used to being the right-hand man, you know. Do not...” She glanced down, looking for the words. “Do not give it to him so easily. Make him work for it and prove himself to you.”
Tracing the lines of her expression—soft, concerned—Roman dragged his thumb across her wrist.
“I told you, doll.” He planted an affectionate kiss to her wrist. “Don’t worry about these things. I’ve got it perfectly under control.”
“I know,” she agreed. “I know you do, Romy—”
“Then stop this fussing,” he interjected mildly. “You’re spoiling your very charming apology. You know I love a good public humiliation. Which park are you taking the twins to?”
The dark eyes of his wife swept over his face for a minute, contemplative and impossible to gauge, before she smiled at him warmly.
“The one just a few blocks away. It has the most shade. Mr. Zsasz, won’t you bring the car around?”
And just like that, things were back to normal. Varya swept away to busy herself with getting ready and loading the twins, and Zsasz went to pull the car around, leaving Roman at the table for a rare moment of peace. Soon enough, he’d have all the information he needed from Dorian, and he could well-and-truly mitigate Maxim Kuznetsov as a problem, and everything would be back on track. He could bet money Varya didn’t think he’d had the foresight to dig up information on Maxim—it wasn’t his style to get his hands dirty, but extreme circumstances called for extreme measures.
Roman sighed, quite pleased.
Back to normal.
#spilled ink#f: the land of gods and devils#roman sionis/oc#x: this smile is a loaded gun#c: varya astakhova#c: roman sionis#c: victor zsasz#c: maxim kuznetsov#honorable mention to dorian for being a true homie#birds of prey fic#birds of prey oc#i think uhhhhhhhh yeah i think that's it!#thank you thank you thank you everyone who has even given me a tiny bit of love for this#it's definitely a project that's self-indulgent but !!!!#<3
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All That Glitters
Summary: Pandora’s box is a black box covered in silk and embossed with the initials R.S.
a/n: So uh this work is a follow up to my fic Better Die than Doubt but it can be read as a stand alone. This thing resulted from the combined might of @knightfall05x, @lucy-roo, and my thirst. I said the follow up to that fic would be fluffy. The chronological follow up will come out at some point. I just have a single braincell and it decided it wanted to write more Black Mask being an absolute bastard. Thanks to those two hoes for enabling and proof reading. See you both in hell
warnings: This is smut. I was being haunted. This work contains noncon, past noncon, violence, Roman being an asshole, daddy kink, size kink, strength kink (if you squint ), yandere themes, stalking, exhibitionism, a dude who cannot take no for an answer and choking.
masterlist
“Hey Jay,” You chirp into the phone, maneuvering it over your shoulder carefully so you wouldn't drop it while you held your soda can at an arm's length away from you hoping it wouldn’t explode on you when you attempt to open it.
“Hey, sweet-” You blow out a raspberry halting the correction in its tracks. You can practically picture Jason’s mouth swerve into an odd shape caught between proceeding with his correction or backtracking. He chose neither. You hear him swear viciously. You snort making him huff.
“What’s up, asshat?” He asks, endearingly. You can pretty much hear him rolling his eyes from this side of the world. You frown hearing how winded he sounded.
“Jay, if this is a bad time, I can-”
“You’re fine it’s just a little-”
“JAYBIRD, A LITTLE HELP WOULD BE NICE”
“Roy sounds like he needs help. I can call back later.”
“Roy can handle himself.”
“Thanks for the confidence, Jaybird, but I think I’d prefer if you kept shooting straight.”
You snort feeling warmth build up in your chest despite the chilly weather. You chirp delighted when you open the can and it doesn’t explode. You hear Jason chuckle. The smart remark he had on the edge of his tongue dies on his lips when your breath hitches audibly at the sound of his gun firing. Jason makes a noise, the kind you use to prompt someone to tell you if they’re ok without having to ask. You swallow and nod and curse remembering he can’t see you. You blow out a breath, making sure it comes out steady.
“Y/n...”
“I’m-” You wanted to say fine but you knew the word fine was wholly inappropriate and untrue for this situation. “I’m gonna survive. I promise.”
Jason doesn’t make a sound of agreement or disagreement. He simply acknowledges it. You silently thank him for the neutrality.
“JAYBIRD”
“SHUT UP, HARPER”
You hear Kory sigh in exasperation somewhere in the distance. In the background, you hear a shriek which you assume is from Jason. Then the line cuts out.
You try to redial.
Nothing.
You try again.
Nothing.
A laugh rips out of your chest. You cry out in pain, the fizzy drink rushing up your nose. You wince and curse and settle on blaming Jason. You suspect they somehow broke the phone. You wouldn’t be too surprised by that outcome. You sigh but there was no point in complaining about it. You might as well finish your lunch in peace.
You chew on your cheek as you walk back to your cubicle, everyone’s eyes are on you. You feel your breathing pick up a fraction of a second faster.
One
Two
.
.
.
.
Two
Fuck
You dig your nails into your palm. Your footfalls become heavier and a little louder even against the white noise around you. You slowdown and shake your head. You haven’t had an attack at work so far and you aren’t about to start now. You inhale deeply, letting your chest expand as you run through the things Dinah taught you.
Take stock of the situation around you.
The world around you was buzzing with life-shuffling papers, ringing phones, humming of machines, and blips of voices here and there. The room is bright and clean under the light of sterile fluorescent lights. You take in all the voices around you. You’re not alone. The knot building in your shoulders loosens. You continue.
Take stock of your body.
Your body is trembling, the beginnings of a panic attack looming over you. Instead of cursing it, you let it. It was only natural to relapse once in a while. The trauma wasn’t fresh. Not in your opinion, at least. Dinah and, apparently, everyone else had a different opinion. You’re good at being ok but you were human. You let out a long breath, half-tempted to let your eyes slide shut but you’re afraid of finding yourself in that room again, of seeing him, of feeling him on you. Revulsion spasmed in your body in powerful waves. Sure, you’re a showboat, Jay had said as much, but showing off and causing a scene were two entirely different things and you weren’t entirely sure you could endure the looks of pity from your coworkers every time you came through those doors.
Stiffly, you walk towards your cubicle. Your neighbor, Chelsea, smiling conspiratorially at you while your manager glares daggers at you. You raise an eyebrow at Chelsea who waggles her eyebrows in return.
“This is how you tell me I got fired?” You sigh, a smile twitching at the corners of your mouth.
Chelsea rolls her eyes at you. “Nope, but the boss man did want me to tell you to tell your boyfriend that he really shouldn’t be sending you gifts at work but honestly, I …...” Your brows knit in confusion, cold dread licking at the pit of your stomach.
“I don’t have a boyfriend.” You say slowly trying to keep the mounting panic out of your voice. You could hear your blood pulsating in your ears, heart threatening to jump out of your chest. Your feet are itching for you to run outside and call Jason or Dinah or anyone but the stupider part of you- the curious part of you was clawing at your mind to proceed.
“Y/n, are- are you ok?” You blink and look at the clock. Two minutes. You blacked out for two minutes which, if you were being totally honest, was a huge improvement.
“Yeah. I’m fine.”
“If you say so” She shrugs, her eyes still not pulling away from you.
Mechanically, you turn to your desk. Your entire being freezes when your eyes land on the black box sitting on the desk and the large bouquet of red roses sitting next to it. The box was rectangular, black with silver trimmings embossed on it. Large ‘R.S.’ written in fancy lettering at the bottom right corner of the lid. You wanted to vomit.
You draw a breath and flex your fingers. You can feel your teeth digging into your cheeks.
“Hey, Chel?”
“Yeah?”
“Can I borrow some tissues?” You ask your voice barely above a whisper but still miraculously steady. She frowns at your handing you a couple of tissues. Normally, you keep your vigilante habits out of your civilian life but considering the initials embossed on this obnoxiously expensive-looking box sitting on your desk, you think this level of paranoia is justified.
You stop to calculate the odds that the box contained explosives which turns up zero. You sigh but a shiver climbs up your spine when you run through the possibilities of what Roman could have thought of as a gift.
“Y/n, what the fuck?” If Chelsea wasn’t watching you before, she was now. You glance at her quickly and give her a weak smile. You swallow the lump forming in your throat. Cautiously, you lift the lid quietly regretting not calculating the possibility of anything toxic being in it. You’re honestly surprised nothing happened. You roll your eyes upon seeing the expensive-looking black silk covering the inside.
Yes, rub your money in my face while you scare me shitless why don’t you, you fucking asshole, you think grumpily peeling the fabric away.
Your heart comes to a full stop when you’re met with a pair of lacy lingerie. Your lacy lingerie. Your USED lacy lingerie. You blink trying not to focus on the white stains. You sincerely did not want to think about that. Moving them aside you find a bloody shirt, the sound of its shifting fabric making gooseflesh spread all over your body.
You recognize it. You didn’t want to, but here it was. The bloodstains were dry but they were still visible even against the dark fabric of the shirt. Your skin prickles where the scars on your body sit. The knife wounds sting and throb as if freshly cut. It takes everything in you not to vomit.
It was probably the single-minded curiosity that kept you going. You maneuver the shirt carefully making sure it makes as little sound as possible. Underneath it is a collar, simple but clearly expensive leather with the tag R.S. glittering under the sterile lights. Your throat constricts. You tear your gaze away. Your eyes sting. Next to it was a stack of photos. The top photo showed you with your, shirt torn exposing your breasts. Someone was inside you, gripping your hips. You gag. You reign your mind in. You flip the stack over and gather your breath. Your heart stops again when you see Roman’s familiar handwriting on the back of a photo.
“Miss me?”
The drive back to your apartment was a blur consisting of what was most likely several severe traffic violations but you needed- you need to get out of town as quickly as possible. The odds of Roman himself showing up to your little town was low, very low. Not that you’ve actually calculated it. You don’t need to. The man walks around like his feet bless every surface they touch. The man has a loaded god complex the size of Russia to put it generously. Fetching you was simply beneath him. He had henchmen for a reason after all.
You wave to your landlady and her husband amiably as you walk past them keeping the nervous thrum out of your movement. Your landlady returns the gesture, elbowing her sneering husband. You know what he thinks of you and your habits. Take a few guys home with you and suddenly you’re a slut. Your promiscuity was none of his fucking business. Your body was yours to do with, to give, and to take back. It was yours. It’s yours, you assure yourself but the feeling of your body and mind hanging loosely off of each other feels painfully vivid at the moment.
You shake your head. This wasn’t the best time to sort out your hang-ups.
You press your ear to your apartment door then remembered just how thick it was and remembered that you didn’t exactly have super hearing. You sigh. What you would give to be Supes right about now. You enter the apartment careful not to make your steps audible. That, however, was rendered moot by the two very large and blocky men standing in your living room. You exhale both in frustration and relief. If Roman Fucking Sionis thinks he can scare you with two meatheads, he was clearly insulting you. Well, at least, he didn’t hire anyone actually competent considering all your gear was in a duffle bag tucked neatly away under your bed. Yanno, just for this sort of eventuality. Now that you think about it. You really should have just kept it in your car but small-town crime seems to have softened you.
You smile letting the irritation mold you into something sharp and venomous. You throw the box at one of the henchmen goading them to attack you. Its contents scattering all over the floor. You can’t bring yourself to care that some of the photos land right side up.
“Tell your chicken shit of a boss to come scare me himself,” You laugh, manic relief flooding through you. You feel like you’re going mad but you don’t care. It’s so much more feasible to deal with these men than it is to have to even think about Roman. “He doesn’t even have the balls to-”
“Well, it’s nice to see you too, Sweetheart.” comes a gravelly voice from the bedroom. Your stomach drops. Roman strides out of your bedroom adjusting the cuff link of his obnoxiously expensive suit. He looks down to the photos and gifts scattered on the ground, frowning he bends down to pick up the collar, dusting it off and stuffing it in his pocket.
Your fight or flight response freezes. You back into the door, the material feeling too solid for the moment. You inhale sharply, only managing short shallow breaths as Roman slowly closes the distance between you. His footfalls loud, heavy, and deliberately casual making your blood thrum.
No. No. No.
Your eyes flicker wildly around the room looking for any weapon within reach, your mind running through the numbers, the probabilities melding together into incoherent blotches of red in the back of your skull. Roman slams his large hands on either side of your head. The impact makes the door creak. You can’t stop yourself from flinching visibly, surprise and fear carving themselves on to your face. Roman barks out a derisive laugh as he trails a leather-clad finger down your chin, your throat, then to your cleavage. The contact against your bare skin makes you bristle.
“This here?” He emphasizes, his fingers playing with the top button of your shirt popping it carelessly revealing your baby pink, lace bra hidden beneath. “This is a little low cut for the office, isn’t it, princess?”
Annoyance overwhelms your sense of self-preservation. “I’m not about to take fashion advice from a guy who looks like he watches Scar Face daily.” You snipe, teeth bared. Roman hums the undercurrent of rage filling the air. Your ribs ache, remembering an old injury. Your mouth slams shut cutting off any other snide remarks.
“You wear these clothes to wind me up, don’t you?” Roman drawls, his leather-clad fingers tracing up the expanse of your thigh exposed by the slit of your skirt, bunching up the skirt and playing with the waistband of your thong as he does so. His thumbs pressing circles against your inner thigh, you can’t help but quiver under his touch. “Oh the fun hasn’t even started yet...just wait”, he bites your ear lobe and tugs it between his teeth. He pulls back and glares at you. “Do you want to know how I found you in this dead-end town, princess?” He asks tilting your chin with his gloved hand. You shake your head not really interested at the moment. You’re too distracted by how flush your body was getting as he presses you further into the door with his bulk. You note with disgust the arousal suffusing through your limbs.
“You were all over the news, sweetheart,” You’re trying to remember what he could possibly be talking about. He leans in closer, leather-clad hand brushing against his thumb against your bottom lip, your lips parting automatically for him. He places his gloved thumb between your parted lips. “Did you really think I wouldn’t recognize that goofy smile of yours?” You shiver lips wrapping around the intruding digit. Your tongue flicks and swirls around it in a practiced gesture. “Good girl.” Roman hums, a grin spreading across his face while thick shame blankets you. You frown at how familiar the taste of the glove is against your tongue. You push your thoughts away wishing your mind would fall away.
“Baby,” He draws his hand away from your lips, wiping the thin string of saliva on your face. His hands glide down the sides of your body. “Did you really think I wouldn’t recognize these hips?” His hands grab at your hips roughly, lifting you and pulling them flush against his own. “Baby. I know what’s mine and this time I won’t let you get away from me.” He whispers against your neck, voice husky and rough. You swallow feeling his lips brush against your pulse.
Roughly, he wedges a thigh between your legs, the friction against your core making you keen. The friction woke something in you and loosened a few other things. Your hips roll desperately against the thick muscle of his thighs. Roman grins against your neck, loosening his grip on your hips and letting you fuck yourself on his thigh. You will yourself to stop but the heat twisting in your gut is too much. You hate yourself. You well and truly hate yourself. Your cheeks warm, breath coming out in pants.
Roman places a kiss on your collarbone, teeth grazing your sensitive flesh. Your tongue is caught between your teeth to hold back a moan but the shiver spreading throughout your body says it too loudly. Roman chuckles, vibrations deep within his chest making you weak. Roman licks a stripe up your neck, planting kisses and hickeys along your jaw. “God, you taste sweet, princess.” He murmurs hot against your neck, the smirk dripping from his voice. It feels like acid against your skin.
He guides your pliant arms to loop around his shoulders. You obey soundlessly, tipping your head back giving him room to ravish your neck. He does with unbridled enthusiasm. You feel trapped in your own body. You don’t want this. You want to push him away but the fear coursing through you leaves you a passenger in your own body. Your breath hitches with each bite and kiss.
“Mine.” He rumbles resolutely, sliding the cloth of your top placing a bite on your shoulder. It stings without even looking, you know it’s deep.
“No” You whisper, low and unsure.
“No?” He challenges pulling away from your shoulder.
“No” You echo voice frustratingly unsteady. He sneers down at you, smile condescending. A biting rebellious part of you demands that you snarl and spit something brisque and witty at him but it’s pushed down by something viscous filling your chest. How are you drowning and why are you not dead yet?
Just let it pass, your mind whispers to itself. Just let him get his fill and he’ll be on his way. You don’t even have to get hurt. You sincerely want to believe this. You just want this to not happen. The thought of it summons a wave of nausea deep within you. Tears well up in the corner of your eyes. You blink rapidly chasing them away. He likes it when you cry.
“Baby, you can’t tell me you don’t want this,” He emphasizes, pressing his thigh against your sopping pussy. The pressure makes you whine. “Not when you’re being all cute and fucking yourself on my thigh like the dirty slut you are.”
No. No. No.
Rat-tat.
You will your hips to stop their movement but they’re too lost in their momentum. Your eyes flicker to Roman’s men, large eyes pleading. They stand stiffly doing their best to ignore you. They’re doing a damn fine job of it.
“Oh they won’t do anything, they’re here to watch,” Roman whispers hotly against your ear. Your eyes flicker to them again. Your breath catching when your eyes meet one of theirs, seeing not an ounce of pity. You shove the bile rising in your throat and the quirk on their lips deep somewhere else, somewhere away from you.
You try to squirm away but Roman’s arm presses into your windpipe pinning you in place. You thrash and kick and hiss but your head feels light. You hear fabric shift and you still. The sound of the zipper is too loud and too real.
Roman takes your lips in a forceful kiss making you gasp. His tongue forces its way into your mouth. He releases your neck. You feel his fingers trail up the slits of your skirt. You try to focus on them rather than what’s pressing stiffly against your inner thigh. The fabric of your skirt bunch up by your hips. You feel your panties getting pushed aside by large fingers. You whimper again, clawing at the expensive fabric of Roman’s suit. “Please don’t do this.” You plead breathily against his ear.
He laughs, voice gravelly and harsh. Without further warning or preparation or ceremony, Roman shoves himself inside your warmth, pushing you further into the door. You gasp, the burning stretch making your body tremble all over. He bottomed out with a loud groan. You wanted to cover your ears or have your mind fall out of your reach but here it was painfully present along with your frozen body. He’s loud, groaning and panting as he fucks into you. He thrusts into you with wild abandon, hips clashing against each other with bruising intensity. You can feel his cock dragging in and out of you, hitting every spot violently. He wants this to hurt. You hope it would too.
Your cheeks burn with how your walls spasm around his cock. You want to push him away, to take him out of you but it feels so good. You try to smother the lewd sounds you make into his shirt. Roman’s hands squeeze tightly around your waist in warning. “Yeah, that's it, baby. Let daddy know how much you want this.” You don’t protest. Instead, you let your mouth hang open and let the lewd mewls and keens tumble out. He drills into you more violently seemingly spurred on by your sounds.
You come with a whimper. You want to bury yourself in a hole. He comes not long after still fucking into you as he does, making sure your pussy takes all of his cum.
He pulls out of you, the slick sound of it absolutely sinful. Your body is slack against the door, too drained to hold itself up. Roman pulls back, grinning down at you and whistling appreciatively as he admires his work. “Let’s dress you back up, sweetheart.” Roman coos locking something around your neck. You don’t need to look down to know what he’s put there. The cool metal of the R.S. hanging off the collar presses stark against your hot sensitive skin.
“You look sooo much better like this,” Blearily you look past him. Your duffle bag is already in the arms of one of his men. He grabs your face roughly making you look him in the eyes. “All mine- just as you should be.”
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Thanks for reading! I swear I will do more fluff in the near future. I just needed this out of my system.
Tag list: @batarella, @anothertimdrakestan, @lucy-roo, @multifandomgirl-us, @idkmanicantenglish,@birdy-bat-writes, @boosyboo9206, @americasmarauders , @l-horizon11, @arestorationofbalance , @cloudie-skay, @wunderstell
#yandere blackmask#yandere dc#yandere roman sionis#reader insert#dc reader insert#warning: smut#dc smut#black mask x reader#roman sionis x reader#yandere roman sionis x reader#my writing
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Intense
One Night at a Time Masterlist
Author’s Note: Part seven of One Night at a Time series.
Summary: Y/n is trying to move on after Dean gets sent to Purgatory. She's hunting nonstop to outrun the questions in her head...what does she do when Dean shows up after more than a year?
Pairing: Dean x Reader, Benny x Reader (kinda)
Word count: 3575
Story Warnings: mentions of harm to reader, mentions of scars, poor self-esteem, angst, Dean being Dean (a bit of a jerk), 18+! HERE BE SEX!! DON’T READ IF YOU’RE A YOUNG’UN!!!, unprotected sex, vaginal fingering, rough sex, creampie
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I should have been there, closer, beside him when he stabbed Dick Roman and sent him back to Purgatory. I should have stopped Crowley from getting his hands on Kevin. I should have done something more than just stand there while everything fell apart.
And I tried, you know? I tried to find another way into Purgatory. I tried for months to get Dean back. But it was useless. I was useless. Useless to Dean and Kevin and Sam, but not useless on a hunt. I’ve always been at my best on a job.
So I go back to hunting. Vamps and ghosts and this shifter in Utah...a few demons here and there. I jump from job to job, catching a few that aren’t even monsters because as soon as I slow down, my brain goes to Dean. Missing him, yes. Missing him with everything in me, but also...he might have liked me, but...he never said he dreamed of me until after Castiel fixed my scars. He never got nervous about sleeping with me when I had the scars. He was a bit of an asshole to me, actually.
So I hunt. To avoid questions that plague me that don’t even matter anymore, I hunt.
I haven’t heard from Sam in over a year. He’s not on the radar. He’s not hunting. I guess that’s better, leaves more jobs for me.
I get wind of a vampire sighting in Clayton, Louisiana. No body drop, just someone saying they saw a fanger, but I check it out anyway. I have to do something to keep my mind busy.
I go the normal route, bars and nightclubs are generally the way you find a fang, but there’s not a lot in that area in Clayton. One bar full of blue collar boys and no nightclubs. Still no bodies. I head to a local park overlooking a lake and sit on a small wooden bench. There’s something interesting about cypress trees sticking out of the water, Spanish moss hanging from the branches. It’s not pretty, not in any conventional way, but it is at the same time.
“You not from aroun’ here, are you?” a man says, moving to sit next to me on the bench.
I turn to look at him. A blue-eyed man with a light beard and a hat. He’s not quite the swamp-dwelling men I found at the bar. “What makes you say that?”
“Just got a feelin’ about you. Says you’s a traveler. You got a nomad look,” he says, smiling brightly.
I smile and nod. “Yeah. You could say that. I’ve been pretty much everywhere.”
“I used to do a lotta sailin’, so I been around a few times. Sometimes, I think I can sense people with an envie to roam. Mus’ be what drew me ta you.” He smiles at me again and I chuckle.
“Are you sure it wasn’t the fact that I was a weirdo staring at the water? Didn’t come over here to check me into a mental hospital or something?” I ask, smirking.
“Nah. Pretty lady with her head lost in the cypress? Nothin’ wrong wit’ dat.”
I feel my cheeks heat up and look away toward the trees again. “Thank you.”
“No problem, cher. I’m Benny.”
“Y/n,” I respond, offering my hand. He takes it and kisses the knuckles. His lips are a bit cold, but it’s pretty cool for August.
“Well, iss real nice meetin’ you, Y/n. You gonna be around town a few days?” he asks. Is he flirting with me?
“Maybe. The ‘envie to roam’ might kick up real soon.” Might not be anything here and I have to find a job soon. I have to find a distraction.
“Well, if you don’t roam before tonight, I could buy you a drink?”
I lick my bottom lip between my teeth and nod. What better way to look inconspicuous on a vamp hunt than to have drinks with a handsome man? “That’d be nice, Benny. I’ll meet you at the bar at 7?”
“I’d like that.”
He’d like that. Why would he? Why did he even want to talk to me?
I go anyway. He buys us beers. He's charming and funny, down to earth but not simple. I don't know if it's the quaint Louisiana backwoods of him or what, but he seems like a man out of time. Which should have been the first clue, but my Spidey-sense doesn't go off until he walks me to my car and leans in to kiss me.
It's nice and he's an amazing kisser, but the fact that he's kissing me?
My mind goes to Marco.
I whisper 'Cristo' when he pulls away, but he doesn't flinch, just looks at me a bit odd. "I didn't think I was that good a kisser you gotta call for the Lord, cher."
I nod and smile tightly. "Right. Uh...I had a nice night, Benny. You've got my number. Text me sometime," I ramble out a bit before I slide into my driver's seat and peel out of the parking lot. He must be the fang I'm looking for. Only explanation. It's the only reason he'd flirt with me, kiss me, why his lips were cold. Trying to get me alone so he can drink me or turn me.
I'll set a trap, get some dead man's blood, confirm what he is...Benny's big so maybe I should have some backup but at the end of the day, he's just one vamp and I've taken down bigger.
I'm trying to figure out a way to get some dead man's blood in this nowhere town when there's a knock on my motel door. I grab my gun and approach, looking through the peephole. I almost drop my gun.
Dean Winchester, or something that looks like him, is standing at my door.
“Open the door, Y/n!” It knows my name. “And put the piece away. You can test me as soon as you open up.”
It can’t be him. It can’t but...if anyone could claw his way back…
I open the door and stare blankly at him for a minute. “You...can’t...be.”
He smiles and steps inside. “You got some borax, holy water, silver knife?” I just stare for another few moments. “Okay, well, I got the knife,” he says, pulling out a knife I recognize and slicing it across his arm.
“How are you here?” I whisper.
“Long story,” he says, wrapping a handkerchief around his arm. “Borax?”
I swallow and rush to my duffel bag. After I splash him with cleaner and holy water, I hand him a towel. “It’s really you?”
“Yeah. It’s really me.” He sets the towel aside and licks his lips, grimacing at the taste of the borax. “I was sad when Sammy told me he hadn’t seen you all year.”
I shrug and look away. “I was keepin’ busy...he wasn’t.”
“How busy?” he asks.
“Busy enough.” Had a lot on my mind.
“Sam retired. You hear about that?”
“I assumed. He dropped off the face of the earth and left all the good cases for me.” I sit on the edge of the bed and look at my feet.
“He was in Texas.” He moves to stand over me, looking down. “You been hunting by yourself again?”
“Nothing new, Dean.” I shake my head. “The only time I wasn’t hunting solo was the few months I was with you and Sam. I’m good without backup.”
“But Sam shouldn’t have abandoned you to go play house with some chick in-”
“Does it really matter?” I look up and sigh. “He deserved a break.”
“No, he didn’t! I was in Purgatory and he just quit. At least you kept fighting.”
“I didn’t really have a choice.” I clear my throat and bite my bottom lip. "So you got out."
"Yep. I did."
"How'd you find me?" I ask.
"Friend found you for me...not that he was really looking." He clicks his tongue against his teeth and clears his throat. "So Sam and I just got done doin’ a wolf case in Michigan...got a few days probably...unless you got something-”
“I’m on a fang. If you wanted to-”
“How many victims?” he asks, a little too quickly.
“Well, none but someone I trust saw the thing. Just because they haven’t killed anyone yet doesn’t mean-”
“Y/n.” He grabs my chin and tilts my face up to look at him. He’s still so beautiful but there’s something primal in his eyes. “No body means no monster. You don’t need to be here.”
“I’m s-sure there’s a...there was this guy, B-Benny, he-”
“No, babe.”
“Guys don’t give me attention unless they have a motive, Dean.” I pull away from him and his eyes narrow at me and a chill goes down my spine. Not a good one, though. I’m fucking scared...of Dean. That primal look in his eyes is terrifying and I’ve faced down a lot scarier shit than him.
“Motive? What’s that supposed to-” His jaw ticks as he steps close and crowds me a bit. “You’re back on your bullshit about people not liking you, aren’t you?”
“I don’t get attention, Dean. Benny is just Marco part two.”
“Marco was sent after you, Y/n. Benny just found you.”
“Or I found him! Maybe he’s the one I was here looking for and-”
Dean reaches out and grabs my hair, making me gasp. “Benny is not your concern. No one’s died. You’re after nothing,” he practically growls at me.
“Okay!” I squeak and it’s pathetic...but he’s scaring the fuck outta me. What the hell? What happened to him while he was gone? “There’s nothing here.”
He lets go of my hair and sighs. “Why don’t you pack up and we’ll go meet up with Sam?”
“Dean...I don’t-”
“Y/n.” There’s a warning in his tone and I look away from him.
“Fine. Can we stay here tonight? I’m kinda exhausted.” I don’t wanna go anywhere with him acting like this. Maybe he’ll be less scary in the morning. Unlikely.
He sighs again, obviously annoyed with me, but he nods and pulls his jacket off. He tosses it at the chair in the corner and flops down onto the bed, pulling out his phone. “I’ll call Sam. Let him know.”
I nod and move to the other side of the bed, lying down and turning onto my side away from him.
All the questions I was running from, working to hide from, they all come flooding back as Dean settles into the bed with me. The questions bring friends. Why is he here? Why would he come here? Who found me for him? Why did he want me found? And why’s he being an asshole again?
Not just an asshole, but a scary asshole. And I don’t think I want to hunt with him like this. I’m uncomfortable. I’m anxious. I’m confused. I’m...sneaking out of bed while he sleeps and getting out of Louisiana. I’ll call Sam when I get some miles between me and Dean. I just can’t do this right now.
I know he hates it when I leave without saying ‘goodbye’ so I leave a note.
Then I leave. I make it to a convenience store in Meridian, Mississippi before I have to stop. I get bad mileage in this old car. I set the pump and head inside, grabbing a case of beer and a hand basket full of snacks. I drop them in the backseat and go around to the restrooms, hoping for something clean-ish. I push open the door, but I haven’t stepped into the room when a hand covers my mouth and I get forced into the room.
“Don’t fuckin’ scream.” It’s Dean. Fuck. At least the bathroom’s clean, I’m not grossed out when he presses me into the wall with his body. “The fuck do you think you’re doin’?”
He pulls his hand away from my mouth and I take a deep breath. “You’re scaring me, Dean,” I whisper.
“Oh, I’m scaring you?” he snaps, grabbing my shoulder and twisting me around to face him. His eyes are wild and full of rage. “You know I hate it when you disappear on me. You didn’t even stick around an hour before you left this time! Ya know, you’re always worried about how people don’t like you, but you’re the one that’s not givin’ anyone a chance to get close.”
“Dean, you’re being a dick. Why would I stick around when you’re scaring me?” My voice is squeaky, my body almost shaking. I can face monsters any day of the week, but I’m shaking over this man.
His face softens, his eyes losing a bit of their edge, and I think he’s gonna step back from me for a moment, but he doesn’t. He steps closer, leans his head down, hovers his lips over mine. Suddenly, I’m feeling a tingling lust between my thighs on top of the fearful shaking in my limbs. “Wasn’t tryin’ to be a dick, baby,” he whispers, his breath warming my lips. “Just spent a year in Purgatory. Came back a little...intense.”
“That’s an understatement.” My head’s getting a little dizzy as my heart thuds in my chest.
“Spent all that time missin’ you, wanting you, dreaming of burying my cock in your tight little cunt.” I gasp as he grabs my waist with one hand and braces himself against the wall next to my head with the other. “Intense isn’t necessarily a bad thing, Y/n.”
"Dean," I whimper. I want him. I always want him, but hearing those words...that he was thinking of me… "Why would you miss me?"
He rolls his eyes, and it's this aggressive thing that chills me. "You gotta stop this shit. I spent all those months buildin' you up, showin' you how much I appreciate you and all that work I put in...it's just gone?"
"Why?" I whisper before I can stop myself. His eyebrows come together and I close my eyes. "I'm not...worth...any-"
'Shut it!" he growls and I jolt against him, eyes opening and finding his. "You are worth everything I could ever fuckin' give you. I put the effort in because you deserve it, because I need you, Y/n. The last year of my life has been death and destruction, and fear and adrenaline, and the only thing that kept me going was the thought of makin' it back here to you and my brother. You're like family.”
‘Family’. I’m like...needs me? He-
I lean forward and kiss him, wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him close. My brain’s not working right, I’m overwhelmed and confused, but my body knows what I want. He groans and presses me harder into the wall, pushing my shirt up and grabbing my breasts over the bra. He drops his hands to the front of my jeans, popping open the button and sliding his hand into my underwear to cup my mound.
I suck his tongue into my mouth as he starts fingering me. He’s going a little rougher than he used to. That scary primal energy is translating into something...so sexy. “Oh, god,” I whisper as he works two fingers against my inner walls. “Shit! Dean, fuck!”
“You make the prettiest fuckin’ noises.” His voice rumbles in my ear, makes me clench around his fingers. “You gonna cum on my fingers, baby?”
I whine and grind against his fingers. I’m so close. God, he’s so good at making me feel good. “I’m gonna--Dean, I’m gonna--Don’t stop!”
“I’m gonna make you cum ‘til you can’t fuckin’ stand it, Y/n,” he promises, pressing the heel of his palm into my clit. I squeal as my toes curl in my shoes and my orgasm crashes over me. I don’t even have a chance to get my wits about me before he’s spun me around and pushed me over the sink. He yanks my pants down to my boots, but he tears my panties off. I hold back the shriek that wants to bubble up as the cotton rips at the sides. He starts sucking at the skin of my neck, digging his teeth into my shoulder as he fumbles with his belt and jeans. He knocks my knees apart and leans over me, sliding his cock along my slit a few times before he slides in all at once.
“Dean!”
He’s rough, fucks me hard, digs his fingertips into my waist, my boobs, my thighs. He bites into my shoulder through my shirt, punches air out of my lungs with each thrust. He moves a hand between my thighs to pluck at my clit and I scream as I cum again, but he’s not done. He’s making good on his promise to make me cum ‘til I can’t stand it, definitely ‘til I can’t stand, because my legs are shaking and weak, the sink is the only thing holding me up as he keeps going. How is he still going?
“Dean, please! I need--I need you--”
“What’d’you need?”
“Need to feel you fill me up,” I whimper. Oh, that’s stupid. I’m not on the pill. But why is it so hot?
He hisses and kisses my jaw and pinches my clit. “One more, Y/n. Gimme one more.”
“I can’t!”
“Yes, you can,” he demands. He sucks my earlobe into his mouth and nibbles on it, rolls my clit between his thumb and first finger. “Cum for me, one more time, cowgirl.” He moves faster, fucks me hard and plays with my clit more and I cum screaming into the mirror over the sink. “Good girl.” He moves his hand away from my clit and braces it against our reflection. He hammers into me, lasts another few thrusts before his breath catches as he cums, his cock twitching as he gasps in pulls of air. “Fuck. That was...so worth it.”
I don’t disagree. Fuck.
He pulls out, holds me up as he fixes his clothes, then moves to fix mine. He caresses my cheek and leans in to kiss me passionately. I’m a bit breathless when he pulls away. Intense. He’s definitely...intense.
“You changed,” I whisper. “Purgatory changed you.”
“Of course it did,” he responds, licking his lips. “But what are you, specifically, referring to?”
I look away. His eyes are too green, too hypnotic. “You were gentle before you left...almost awkward with me after Castiel made me kinda...pretty again?” I don’t know why that turned into a question.
“You were always pretty.” He bites his bottom lip and sighs. “Last time we were here, when you gave me your motel key...I was gentle then too, right? And that was way before Cas healed you. You’re right that I wasn’t awkward then, but I wasn’t tryin’ to build a relationship back then.”
My eyes go wide. “Relationship?” I squeak.
“Well, duh.” He seems amused by my shock. “What’d you think this was, Y/n? An extended one night stand?”
I shake my head. “I...I, um...relationship? What kind of-”
He shrugs and leans against the wall he originally pushed me into. “Why we gotta label it? It’s...I mean, I like you. You like me. We like bein’ around each other. We like fuckin’ each other.”
“Oh, for a second I thought you might be saying something real,” I snap. Thought he might want something like he had with...never mind. “You’re right. Why label what I mean to you?”
He rolls his eyes and sighs. “You comin’ with me or not?” he asks.
I swallow and bite the edge of my tongue. “Yeah. I guess. Since you chased me off from Clayton.”
He licks his lips. “Full disclosure, babe...there was a vamp in Clayton. Benny. Benny was a vamp, but he really approached you just because he thought you were hot and he’s not bad. Dude’s practically vegan.”
My eyes go wide. “I was right? And you know him?”
“It’s a long story,” he says again. “I met him in Purgatory. He helped me stay alive, helped me get free. Like I said, he’s a good guy and he hasn’t been a danger since before he got sent to Purgatory, okay?”
I blink at him a few times. “You…”
“Look, he’s the whole reason I knew where to find you, so you should be thankin’ him for callin’ me.”
“Wh--how’d he even know who I was?” I ask.
“Recognized you from my description.”
“You talked about me? To a...some fang?”
He steps close to me again. “I missed you. So I talked about you. So he recognized you and he called me.” He bites his bottom lip and reaches out to touch my cheek again. “Label or not...you’re important to me. Benny knows that.”
I lick my lips. “Okay...I guess?”
“I’ll tell Sam we’re comin’.” He starts to walk away but he stops at the bathroom door. “Don’t tell Sam about Benny. Please. Not yet. He’s not...we’re still gettin’ our footing. Please.”
I nod and push off from the sink. “Guess he doesn’t need to know yet.”
“Awesome. Let’s get out of here.” He reaches out and I take his hand and he pulls me out of the bathroom.
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The Kitchen Sink - @emoryhemsworth @flamencodiva @wasabiwitteks @rainbowkisses31 @rissbennett @mariekoukie6661 @officiallyunofficialperson @dolphincliffs @mrs-meghan-winchester @gayspacenerd @foxyjwls007 @ilovefanfic86 @marvelfansworld @f-yeahfandoms @wonderlandfandomkingdom @hhiggs @sev3nruby @hobby27 @paintballkid711 @divadinag @thewhiterabbit42 @fantasymyth-1 @queenoftheunderdark @cosicas-cuquis @superfanficnatural @letsby @supernatural-bellawinchester @onethirstyunicorn @swinchester27 @chalicia @sunnyroadtrips @screechingartisancashbailiff @death-unbecomes-you
Hunter Tags - @atc74 @sandlee44 @spnbaby-67 @kalesrebellion @tumbler-tidbits @hoboal87 @stoneyggirl @kbl1313 @cookiechipdough @mrswhozeewhatsis @winchesterxfamilybusiness @holylulusworld @pretty-fortune @screechingartisancashbailiff @we-are-all-a-bunch-of-idjits @imperiusimpala
Gaga For Green Eyes Tags- @typicalweirdbookworm @deanmonandnegansbitch @jadesupernatural @stoneyggirl @4fareader @squirrelnotsam @lyarr24 @akshi8278 @pretty-fortune @we-are-all-a-bunch-of-idjits
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incompleted discord thread featuring: Aaron & @river--holloway
When: march 2021
Mentions: @sxojun
Triggers: none
Description: river visits aaron at work and they catch up
Aaron.BOT — 03/28/2021
Aaron was hunched over his large desk at Club Delilah, trying to focus on this paperwork that was long overdue. Ever since getting back from Milan, he couldn’t seem to get on top of all of his paperwork. He’d been pulled later nights just get things for the day done. He knew he needed to delegate more, but his father always told him that if he wanted something done right, then Aaron had to do it himself. Even to this day, Aaron couldn’t get his dad’s voice out of his head in everything he did - the way he parented, how he worked, his dad seemed to be whispering to him about his relationship too. He knew he was disapprove, but Aaron was successful. He knew that’s what his father would care about the most. Aaron’s thoughts were interrupted when he heard a knock at the door. “There’s someone here to see you.” His assistant told him. @Nix | Dorian & River & Amani
RiverBOT — 03/28/2021
River hadn’t seen or spoken to Aaron in quite some time and, truth be told, the professor missed his friend. Did their history make things somewhat complicated? Admittedly, yes. But, at the core of it all, the two were friends. And River preferred to keep it that way. He didn’t have many people that he considered his friends, after all. Arriving at Club Delilah and asking for Aaron, he waited to be allowed entrance into his office. When access had been granted, he stepped into the office and smiled politely at the younger male. Immediately, though, he could sense a disturbance within his friend that caused the corners of his mouth to droop slightly into a frown. “Hello, Aaron. Are you alright? I hope I didn’t come at a bad time.” @em || 𝐀𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 & 𝐒𝐤𝐲 & 𝐉𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬
Aaron.BOT — 03/28/2021
It had been a minute since he’d seen River. In fact, if Aaron recalled correctly, the last time he actually say River was when they were fucking. He’d actually spoken with Seojun about his relationship with his former professor. Aaron was cool with it, of course. He’d had a relationship that was more than a friendship with both of them in the past, but Aaron was happy in his relationship right now. Besides, both River and Seojun were great guys. He was happy they’d found each other. “River…no.” He set his pen off to the side to give the older male his full attention. “How are you? Thanks for stopping by.” He smiled. @Nix | Dorian & River & Amani
RiverBOT — 03/28/2021
It was true that the last time that he and Aaron had seen each other, it had been in a much different context. With that in mind, the professor could admit that there was some slight awkwardness. But, overall, he was glad to see Aaron. The older male cared a lot about the businessman and considered him a good friend, despite the fact that their relationship had been more than platonic for quite some time. Not to mention they were both in relationships now, River’s in particular being one that he knew Seojun had recently made Aaron aware of. “I’m well, thank you. How are you?” River asked, taking a seat across from the other male. @em || 𝐀𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 & 𝐒𝐤𝐲 & 𝐉𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬
Aaron.BOT — 03/28/2021
The small talk felt a little strange. Even though he genuinely cared about how River was doing, he could feel the elephant in the room. Aaron had a relationship with both Seojun and River that he wouldn’t exactly called platonic or casual. He had been friends with Jun for quite some time and there was always something…else there that Aaron couldn’t quite explain. And River was one of the most exciting flings he’d ever had in his life. Thinking about it made him excited even now. “I’m well. Des is in the talent show at school so she’s getting ready for that. How’s your kid? And, erhm….how are you and Seojun? I’ll admit I was a little surprised when I heard the news.” He confessed to the other male, a small smile on his face. @Nix | Dorian & River & Amani
RiverBOT — 03/28/2021
The interaction did feel strange. It was so much different than all the other times they’d interacted. He nodded his head, smiling as Aaron informed him of his daughter’s upcoming talent show. Sometimes, he forgot that Aaron was also a father because it wasn’t something they talked about often. He loved that they were both girl dads, though. “Oh, how lovely. What’s her talent? I’m sure she’s going to do a wonderful job at whatever it is,” He told him. “Haven is well. She’s coming home for Easter break on the 29th and then her sixteenth birthday is on April 2nd. I’m planning a nice sweet sixteen birthday party for her.” At the mention of Seojun, River chuckled a bit nervously. He supposed he should’ve figured that he would come up somehow. “We’re great. Were you? I didn’t know that you two were friends until he told me.” @em || 𝐀𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 & 𝐒𝐤𝐲 & 𝐉𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬March 29, 2021
Aaron.BOT — 03/29/2021
"She's a woman of many talents." He joked, chuckling to himself softly. "She's singing and dancing. I think that's where she's meant to be actually. Got her talents from her mom that's for sure." He smiled because there was never a time that thinking about his daughter's relationship with her mother didn't want him smiling. He missed her, he really did. "I don't even want to think about Des turning 16. Damn, that's something I just don't ever want to have to do. Be a dad to a teenage girl. You're going to have to give me some pointers." He gave the older male a tiny smirk. It was a bit flirtatious, but he was also being genuine. Haven was a great kid, so River must have been doing something right there. "I was." Aaron nodded, pressing his lips together. "We go way back. You guys seem happy though. So I'm happy for you." He told his former lover. @Nix | Dorian & River & Amani
RiverBOT — 03/29/2021
The professor listened fondly as Aaron gushed about his daughter. He could relate. His own daughter was undoubtedly his favorite person on Earth and he could go on and on about her for days on end if given the opportunity. “That’s fantastic. I’m sure she did inherit those gifts from her mother. And did she inherit your intelligence and wit as well?” He chuckled as Aaron talked about fearing the day that Des turned sixteen. “I can hardly believe that I’m going to have a sixteen year old myself. I’m blessed though, Haven is an angel. She’s never given me the typical teenage rebellion. We’ve always had very open dialogue, so she has no trouble expressing her feelings to me in a healthy manner. I do have to worry about boys though, on occasion. I mean, naturally. She’s a beautiful young lady.” He smirked back at the businessman, not missing the slight flirtatiousness of Aaron’s comment. “You’ve got a ways to go before then, but I’ll give you pointers when the time comes.” River nodded as Aaron gave a brief explanation of his and Seojun’s history. “I see. He did mention that you’re his best friend. Well, thank you. We are happy.” @em || 𝐀𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 & 𝐒𝐤𝐲 & 𝐉𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬March 30, 2021
Aaron.BOT — 03/30/2021
Aaron smirked over at the professor because of course Des had inherited Aaron's intelligence and wit. The kid was one of the wittiest and sassiest people he knew...including the adults. Of course she got it all from him. And now that she was living with Roman and Quentin too - she was even picking up some of their isms as well. Aaron was luck that his kid wasn't super weird considering all of the different adults she had in her life. "She got that all from me. Her good looks too." His smirk grew, then he started listening to River. "You know...Lan and I have always told each other that we were going to make sure Elle and Des got married. Like parent trapping them...but like...with our kids." He joked, knowing that idea was really twisted and wrong. But he and Landon still hoped for it anyway. It wasn't like he was going to force his kid to be with Elle or anything, and of course he wanted Des to do whatever made her happy, but the thought was still nice. "You know...I thought I had a long time until Des turned 6, and now here i am. I swear I'm going to blink and she'll be 16." He ran his hand through his hair because the idea of his kid getting old almost stressed him out. "Has Haven met Jun yet?" he asked, curiously. @Nix | Dorian & River & AmaniApril 4, 2021
RiverBOT — 04/04/2021
River laughed softly, shaking his head playfully. Something the professor had always admired about Aaron was his confidence. Sure, he’d been set up for success due to the family he’d been born in; but, without that charisma of his, he wouldn’t have that same flair and his businesses probably wouldn’t be quite as successful. He grinned as Aaron confessed to him and Landon fantasizing about their daughters ending up together. When Haven was born, he didn’t have any other friends with kids; and, now that he’s older, the other parents he knows still have much younger children than his. Sometimes, he can’t help but wish that he had more people in his life that he could closely relate with. That didn’t change the fact that he was very grateful for the friends like Aaron and Quentin that he does have. “I wish I could comfort you and say that’s not how it is, but that’s exactly how it goes. Children grow up so quickly. That’s why it’s so important to cherish every singular moment you have with them.” He shook his head at Aaron’s question. “Not yet. But she’ll meet him when she comes home Monday. They’ve spoken over the phone though.” @em || 𝐀𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 & 𝐒𝐤𝐲 & 𝐉𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬April 6, 2021
Aaron.BOT — 04/06/2021
No matter how old he got, he still valued that knowledge that River gave him. Even though this wasn't in a classroom setting, Aaron always found River so sexy because of how intelligent he was. He loved just looking at the man when he was delivering any type of information. Even if it was about how fast his daughter was going to grow up and leave him - at least the person who was delivering this terrible news was some excellent eye and ear candy. "C'mon, man. Don't get me all emotional in the middle of the day like that. I have a meeting later." He laughed, but he almost did feel himself getting a little upset at the thought of Des getting older. "Oh..well...I'm sure she won't like him as much as she liked me." He joked and even added a small cackle, though he wasn't sure if that was exactly a funny joke. @Nix | Dorian & River & Amani
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