An Exception ⦻ ᨒ↟
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The Operator doesn’t form attachments or bonds. The concept alone was foreign, ill-fitting, and laughable at best. Like asking death itself to spare a mocking jay out of kindness—
So why in the world is there a human standing by his side?
!! The Operator x GN! Reader !!
-> he’s ancient and confused but you are very dear to him I fear ->
Divider by @im4yeons 
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— ^ ^ —
If someone asked him how this happened, he wouldn’t be able to answer.
The operator was older than the soil itself. A creature- a deity who oversaw the land, sea and sky.
He had prided himself on being above humanity, above the finicky mortal needs. Things like touch, acceptance, and affection were all unnecessary. They were considered earthly attachments, and he thought of them as practically worthless.
Tall as the trees and imperceptible to the average mind. He would never be able to understand how deeply humans felt. It was impossible.
He could theorize, perceive their dreams and aspirations through science, but it wasn’t a firsthand account by any means.
Not that it mattered, he didn’t care about the archaic fine print of humanity’s want for companionship. It wasn’t important—
“Sir, can we get food now?”
Or so he thought.
Standing before him was a human. One who lacked fear at that. Still finicky, fragile- yet familiar.
You.
His self-proclaimed favourite mortal.
Blinking up at him from the forest ground, you were none the wiser to his dilemma. Naive was the word he’d use, but at this point, could he even fault you?
He had let you live on a whim. You were intriguing, a little odd, yet he found himself drawn to you. So in a way, he supposed that this was his responsibility to bear.
“Very well.” The baritone resonated through your skull like the ghost of a statement, and you grinned, reaching to cling onto his hand. “Can we get dessert after?” Your request was met with a nod, then he reciprocated your affection.
His palm swallowed yours, overlapping your entire hand, even covering a decent portion of your wrist. “Kay.” You hummed, hurrying to keep up with him.
Except, two steps onto the path, you suddenly stopped. It made him peer down at you expectantly, and you smacked your lips together. That usually meant you were about to ask for something nonsensical.
“Can you carry me?”
There it was.
His befuddlement was understood without a single word uttered, and you swayed on the spot, pouting. “My feet hurt- please? I would carry you if I was super tall.” If he had lungs, he’d sigh.
The operator didn’t know what spell you’d cast on him- because before he could question himself further, he was stooping down. Lifting you by hooking his grip under your thighs, then hauling you up. Your arms circled his neck instantly, and you were held to his chest as he began walking once more.
“I finished putting up the posters really fast today. Did you see?” Your feet dangled, kicking while the branches passed overhead. “Yes.”
However, instead of your usual cheeriness, you remained staring at him, anticipating. Ah, of course. “Good job.” He echoed, and you grinned. “Am I your best worker?” His suit always felt so soft.
It was too smooth to be fabric, yet not exactly like flesh. A mix of the fuzz you would find on the leaves of exotic plants and something alive, as if it were breathing.
The operator’s warmth didn’t radiate from beneath the layers either; instead, it pulsed in the bubble around him.
There was a temperature change of about an inch off his frame, and it reminded you of hovering your hands in front of a space heater. Nearly comforting, even with his otherworldly qualities.
“I thought you were tired.” Almost a tease- he murmured, the crickets chirping faintly in the distance. The twigs were silent under his steps, and his ability to bend your surroundings carried your weights effortlessly.
You hummed. “Only a little- and answer my question!” Your finger jabbed into his cheek, and he tilted his head towards you.
Why on earth does he let you get away with these things? “Yes, you are my best worker.” His reply made you laugh, the blunt tone conveying no tolerance. He sounded mean, but you knew he didn’t mind. At least not enough to correct your behaviour.
“Knew it.” Cocky, you returned to playing with the knot of his tie, the diner finally within view. The forest edge was only a few feet ahead of you, and he carefully set you down.
“Continue your duties tomorrow. I expect you to cover the western territories by noon.” The breeze began to shift, fizzling with an invisible static that signalled his departure— the air grew stagnant when your hand latched onto his. “I mean, I kinda’ hoped we could hang out for a bit.”
Despite his lack of features, his focus bore into you nonetheless. He angled his chin down, glancing at your connection, then back to your face. “You want to… hang out?”
His confusion was tinged with surprise, and you simpered, shrugging. “I don’t know, I only see you when I’m doing work. I wanted to eat dinner together.” You were so terribly peculiar, he thinks.
Such casual wording as if you weren’t speaking to a being that defied all logic. His very existence went against the laws of nature, and still, you clung to him. Asked to spend your free time with him, and would go out of your way to seek his presence.
Your relationship, if it could be called that, didn’t have a label. He simply spared you, just because. There was no rhyme or reason for his decisions, but your proximity to him lingered anyway. How strange of you to believe you could form a bond with something so far from grace.
And perhaps that was why he hesitated.
Not even he himself had an explanation for it- your gaze reflecting a brightness he didn’t have the cruelty to break.
Too fond to be aimed at a creature that had rotted many of your kind, and too vulnerable for him to ruin. He couldn’t understand what was so special about your sanity, what set you apart from the others. Yet it was present, and after a beat, he nodded.
“Mm.” The ambiance filled the woods once more, his influence receding completely. You lit up instantly. “Okay, because I found a clearing last week and it’s like perfect for picnics! There are big rocks to sit on-”
Rambling, you talked as you shuffled away, still looking at him. “I’ll be back in ten minutes tops.” You gave him a double thumbs-up and spun, rushing past the trees.
He watched your figure shrink, perplexed at his own actions. He wouldn’t say he was attached to you, but he wasn’t in a hurry to rid himself of you either. He didn’t know how to categorize you. You weren’t just a tool in his plans to disregard after use, and it’d be ludicrous to define you as a friend. But at the same time, he had agreed to carry you.
The operator permitted you to do things others could not fathom. Him, cradling your body because your feet hurt? It was laughable. Except he had, and now he was waiting for you to order food.
Your touch had become bolder and bolder throughout the days. It had started with you requesting a “fist bump”, then that turned into a high-five. Then it escalated to you asking to hug him as a reward for your diligence. And somehow, he always gave in.
You stopped flinching when he appeared, not dithering before grabbing onto him or calling for him. Your original nerves had vanished, and you would reach to him for safety.
There had been countless times when he had come to check on your progress, only for you to be curled up in tears. You’d spring to your feet, hurrying over with your arms already extended.
Venting about your mortal struggles, the mean people at your day job, and the worries that have overtaken your mind. These moments were crucial to your perception of him- and what did he do? Reprimand you, burn the image of his curse into your memories, the way he had done since the creation of your stars? The way he should have?
If he did, you probably wouldn’t be bounding towards him with upturned eyes, a paper bag in hand.
The blame was his own, as in those moments, he had done nothing but embrace you. Done nothing but brush the salt from your cheeks and ease you with a softness he wasn’t aware he possessed.
If somebody told him that one day, there would be a human who saw him as the sun, he would have painted the oak with their slaughter. For accusing him of something so unimaginable, and for being wrong. He had met you under the moon, after all.
Your shoes thudded against the dirt, the takeout raised over your head. “I’m trying something new. They had a deal going on.” You chirped, and he hummed in acknowledgment, swivelling when you walked in front of him.
Both of you strolled with you in the lead, guiding him to the alleged perfect picnic spot.
You arrived at the destination shortly, and he was ushered to settle on the flat stones at the centre of the clearing. The paper crinkled while you pulled out a tinfoil-wrapped burger, peeling back the layers. You sat side by side, thighs touching.
“You can try my fries if you want.” You said between bites, making him tilt his head slightly. “I don’t need to eat.” You snickered at that.
“Yeah, but they’re good.” Though your logic was awfully flawed, he decided to entertain you. He had already allowed you to get this far, hadn’t he? “My mouth is quite unsightly, little human.” He uttered, and you swallowed, wiping the crumbs from your lips.
“You’re literally smooth everywhere with no eyes, sir. I think I can handle your mouth.” You couldn’t say he didn’t warn you.
It was unnoticeable at first, then a quiet crack. The porcelain-like flesh over his jaw began to split, stretching to reveal a pitch-black void, with the skin near the sides of his face hanging in strands. His maw was gaping, devouring all light, and seemingly endless.
You stared at him, lips parted. “Huh. That’s… cool.” Your effort to hide the evident shock was oddly endearing, and he lowered his face, voice rumbling into the roots as he spoke. “Does it bother you?”
You straightened up. “No! I would never judge you for how you looked, ‘cause that’s mean.” Digging into the bag again, you had your sandwich in one hand, the fries balanced in the other. “Here- try.”
He felt strange picking up fast food from you, the item comically small between his fingers. The single French fry was brought to his mouth, and you observed in amazement while he chewed.
Salty. Not terrible, he supposed. He could see why you liked it, at least. Or rather, he assumed that was the reason. He had never tried human food; he didn’t feel the urge to. The nuance of what exactly made certain dishes appealing wasn’t a priority, so he was basing his knowledge on other factors he’d witnessed in your kind.
“So? How is it?”
“Edible.”
His monotone answer had you snorting. “Well, if you want more, you can have some.” Going back to munching on your burger, you went on to tell him random facts.
Apparently, cows and horses can develop many problems with their hooves due to rocks and stray wood chips. And fish could have wheelchairs to help them swim.
You finished your meal, continuing to offer him bites here and there despite him assuring you it wasn’t necessary. You slouched into yourself once the trash had been shoved aside, the day's toll catching up to you. “Mm, I’ll set an alarm for tomorrow. I wanna’ get the stuff done early.” You yawned, lids drooping.
Your body slumped into him, shoulder to shoulder, when he readjusted himself. Stabilizing you with a large palm on your back. “If you want the energy, you must return home soon.”
You rubbed your eyes lazily. “I know- but I don’t wanna’ walk.” Pouting, you tiredly cuddled into him, and he brushed the hair out of your face. An act a little too human for someone who claimed to be unfeeling.
“Such a handful.” Then you were scooped up, your nose buried in the crook of his neck as he started the trek to your house.
The air in your bedroom warped, atmosphere distorting before shadows climbed up the walls. You were barely awake by the time your frame hit the mattress, and he gently slipped your head onto the pillow.
“Your deadline is extended to dusk. Do not over-exhaust yourself.” His words seeped into your mind like warm fog, making you sag further into the blankets.
“Can you stay until I fall asleep?”
A meek question that held the weight of worlds. He sat on the edge of your bed after a moment, tugging the covers over you. “Rest.” You slurred inaudibly, and faint snores left your lips only a second later.
Looking at you in this state, comfortable beneath the sheets he had pulled onto you. Your trust in him had him mulling over why he went along with your wishes.
Then, with your curtains fluttering and the pale moonlight spreading across the floor, it finally clicked. The rightful title to assign to his anomalous situation with you.
An exception.
— ^ ^ —
Soft slender you are everything to me.
