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

positive reinforcement

he straightened suddenly, the motion reminded you of those inflatable tube men from those vintage-theme stores "well, it was presumptuous of me to assume you knew who i was," 

"i'm cyrus! your manager told me i'm here to help uh... with your new bodyguard and your schedules now! i'll also take care of the 'needing to go through the whole bureaucracy schtick for a package' as you can see right now! and..." he slathered on

you stare blankly, taking note of his appearance and how he talks to much, he wears opaque goggles but not a lower mask, mouth and freckles exposed, normally one would remove them along with the organic lungs, leaving glittering faux-skin to replace the gaps.

his grin faltered at your silence, "basically, i'm your secretary, personal assistant, confidant--- y-your right hand arm... man." he fumbled under your scrutiny, shrinking into himself.

"cyrus," he perked at the mention of his name, "the box."

he panicked, "a-ah! right! sure, here you go. sorry for the... trouble, i'll--- ah, i promise to do be---"

you snatched the box, scowling at the bow, not noticing what is seen of his face just... go expressionless, gone with the nervous act.

an arm tugged at yours, you snapped out of your stupor to briefly glare at your bodyguard, then stare at cyrus, who immediately returned to smiling nervously at you.

you nodded at him, "i'll make sure to remember your face." trying to ignore the way your bodyguard loomed over your shoulder to glare at him, you didn't manage it, tugging at the hand on your arm like a leash to a rowdy dog as you began to turn to leave, he remained still but moved easily once you tugged again, head still turned back at the man.

you pushed him into a alley. he stared at everything but you, shoulders small.

"what the fuck are you doing," you hissed, "you can't just snap at people, what kind of bodyguard can't tell the difference between some clerk and actual enemy?"

its head tilted down, shoulders and neck hunched further weirdly only to realise that there's a croon of metal grinding against metal--- like a folding chair being backed up, he's grinding his exoskeleton to make a whining noise.

what the fuck? is it self harming? or is it compensating for the fact it doesn't talk? was it more unstable than you thought?! 

yous let out a shaky breath, then snap to a sudden clarity, shit what if you're being too much of a bitch and it's keeping a tally? does it mean it's going to snap?!

you backpedal "but you can do better right? you just want to be good for me but you gotta listen to me too." you coo tentatively, reaching to pat his shoulder.

narrowly missing as he tries to snap at you--- or at least it's what it looked like, considering the whole melted mask hiding it's mouth. you immediately react, slamming his head against the wall as you push it back.

there's a moment of silence, save from your shaky breath. you did it again. fuck. you're dead.

no movement from it. is it... broken? was its temple secretly really fragile? you immediately let gon his head still pressed to the side.

your hands shake, just to check, you're gonna get so fucked if it's broken all over again.

you lift it's mask off. breath held and you see its chin, open lips and slack jaw ( showing an unfairly simmetrical bottom row of teeth, wait those look more sharp than normal)--- like it left its last breath or something, twitching nose and finally it's eyes. pupils blown-wide and contracting like a camera lens.

they're fixed on you. you tremble. and it twitches along with you, following every minor muscle contraction.

you breathen keeping eye contact. jaw twitching close to hide teeth, it's head tilts down but still sticking to the wall- eyes looking down and away from you at the discarded package far away, shoulder hunched but torso still facing yours. 

you tug at his collar. mentally willing him to turn his head towards you. his hands lift, you flinch, and their fingers curl slightly, back arching slightly to push his abdomen forward.

... is this the pinned-to-the-wall version of a belly-up?

"down."

he dips into a crouch, not sitting or kneeling, hands still up. you toe his calf. he kneels on the dirty floor.

you reach and pat his... sternum. it stays still. then collarbone, then shoulder. you hesitate. and grab his jaw to turn his face towards you. his eyes still turned away, reflecting the walls around you.

phew. no damage.

you pat his cheek. he stays still, then looks at you, mouth slightly open like a sigh.

"good." you acknowledge, then wince as the box digs into the soft part or your inner elbow. you look back at him, it's head tilts. you're not opening this shit a home.

you take a step back and he immediately follows, body tilting forward. "no." you scold, god you're already treating it like a dog, even without the mask on.

its an android so it should be fine, right?

you make it open the box, steps away from it, you wince when the top is open and slump when nothing explodes. it takes out the mask inside turning it around and turns toward you.

is it waiting for you to put it on him? cant he do it himself?

you sigh. and cover that unnervingly attractive, unblinking face.

you arrive back to your apartment, guard dog in tow carrying the box in its hands.

you slump on your extended matressn data-pad in hand and looking through information about k9 'droids and behaviour. said robot staring at you from the floor.

you really hope it's because he's an ooak model.

---

ignore the fact that i completely forgot about this fic lamooo