Eye Candy [yan! various × gn-fem!reader]

company colony

time to put on some sort of disguise, and that disguise being? the casual clothes you're currently wearing plus your hazmask and some coat or something 

which included your over-sized shirt with shitty print, your own merch. it was a prototype slash sample your manager let you take home, well forced you to take home. and some sweatpants that're colored with caffeine stains on the legs.

you'd probably get flamed from unknowing 'fans' for the shit shirt but at least not trampled, you grab your mask from the coat-rack and your shoes.

just when you're beginning to secure said shoe, you felt a presence over your crouching form. the mask was askew as if it was looking at your shoddy knot, just because one of the 'ears' are longer than the other and the string too short doesn't mean it's not going to keep it in place.

just as you began to pull the strings taut, you ended up with only one bunny ear. well, too bad you couldn't afford velcro---

the towering mass of iron grabs your ankle, pulling it from under your crouch and sending you down to press your weight against the wall to avoid cracking any skulls.

he tilts his head at you before resting the heel on top of his thigh and tying the laces, even going so far to fix the way it was fastened, like a tired parent with their toddler or maybe like those butlers---

you pull your foot off it's grasp as soon as he's done, slightly jolting yourself backwards in an attempt to put more space between you as soon as your back made contact with the metal, the door swung open and you immediately fell to to the floor.

---

you grimace to yourself under the mask, guard dog in tow, as you pass by a duo of fans wearing you merch, pinning your eyes onto them as they chat by the towering doors. you avoid eye contact and strain your ears to hear into their conversation, just in case.

"---concert? it was soo cute! too bad it got cut short by that bomb, ugh my sweet Comet can't get a break from all that hate."

"did you see that? b-before the explosion? you saw a guy like... go all 'get down mr.president them? it was so cool."

"huh? is it a new idol? hopefully not, because i don't want him to steal their spotlight."

"no... i don't think so? i think it was a b-bodyguard, not the fleshy ones but the mechanic ones."

"... holy shit, after all those statements and lawsuits? I thought Amizade stopped doing them, specially after Sapiency tried to---"

"shhh! shut up! there's people nearby! stop talking about the robot-fanclub! what if we get fucking needle'd for this?"

"fuck, you're right."

the other one snaps their spine straight as you pass by, you tense in response, but immediately relax as they began to usher the quieter one with them instead of pouncing on you. they didn't recognize you, good.

the door opened as soon as it sensed your motions, clicking and retracting into itself with honeycomb pieces, revealing the entrance and it's crowded secretary with swift motions.

you feel a hand on your shoulder make it's way to drape it's arm around you in a protective guide, pulling your body near against its owner. you breath falters, holding it for a moment before recognizing who it belonged. the touch was revolting but you'll let it slide just this once.

you two made your way towards one of the workers attending to a call, ear-piece looping around the holes of the cartilage like an actual piercing while their fingers weaved the letters of the order clueless to your guide-dog parting single-file lines towards their way.

like magnets, they disperse to keep from being near him as if they'd simply die just by brushing clothes with it, a client, first of the line, is shoved backwards, their spot immediately taken by him. 

by glancing backwards you see their uncovered face twist and their eyes glow with anger for a second before scrambling back, nearly making a domino reaction of people falling before they're caught by someone behind them.

the secretary's smile almost falls, the piercings on their dimples struggling to lift their gape of horror into something more corporate-friendly, their skin under their eyes force themselves to squint in fake glee, you can see a faint patch of cosmetic modification glitter where their eye-bags should be.

"hi! welcome to Exo-Exo, i can tell that you're... eager for your schedule, i'm secretary anthy, how can i help you?" their eyes seem to swing to you and him like a pendulum.

you sigh to yourself, "i'm here to retrieve an package under the name comet." you whisper the name, no beating around the bush.

their eyes narrow for a second, their hand move as if to pull a lock of hair behind their ear but you can see the slight shine of a button you don't want them to press.

"sure! but first, i should tell you that there is no such---"

before you can do anything to diffuse the situation a hand grips the secretary's wrist from behind their chair, tearing it away from the button near their temple.

"i'm sorry!" the figure shifts in place, the apology wasn't for them but for you, "i didn't mean to cause any confusion... i didn't know that you would arrive so early! i didn't have time to warn any of the secretaries that there was anything to be picked up at all!"

one of the patterns of the wall behind them shift back into their rightful place, so that's were he came from.

"a-ah hold-on!" he lets go of the now bruising wrist to hold with both hands a box, it had a bow on top, figures, "here! i'm sorry for all the trouble mx. comet, mx! if you need anything i'll be happy to be of assistance!"

who the fuck is he?

he deflated, shit, you said that outloud.