#Android Tweaks
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myinstafollow · 2 years ago
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Unlocking Dynamic Island: A Guide for Android Enthusiasts
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Hey there, Android aficionados! 📱 Looking to spruce up your Android experience? Look no further because we've got just the trick for you. If you've ever wondered how to add a dynamic island on your Android phone, you're in luck! We've put together an easy-to-follow guide that will have you customizing your screen in no time.
Dynamic Island is the latest trend in Android customization, allowing you to create a more dynamic and interactive interface. By following our step-by-step instructions, you'll be able to seamlessly integrate this feature into your device, giving it a fresh and vibrant look that reflects your unique style and personality.
With our comprehensive tutorial, you'll learn the ins and outs of setting up Dynamic Island on your Android phone, enabling you to take full advantage of its capabilities. Whether you're a tech-savvy individual or someone looking to explore the endless possibilities of Android customization, this guide is tailored to cater to your needs.
So, what are you waiting for? Dive into the world of Dynamic Island and elevate your Android experience to a whole new level! Head over to our blog to get started: How to Add Dynamic Island on Android Phones.
Don't forget to share your personalized Android setups with us in the comments below. We can't wait to see the creative ways you make Dynamic Island your own!
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superevilnicole · 3 months ago
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Anyway after that depressing vent I just blogged about
DOES ANYBODY KNOW THAT I AM LITERALLY CONNOR FROM THE HIT GAME DETROIT BECOME HUMAN???
I love Connor sm he is me and I is him
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hatsunemeloetta · 7 months ago
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% ooc: reblog for an ask from miku! i wanna try and interact with her to get back into the swing of rping her
% turning rbs off for now but ill reactivate this when i have the spoons! ty for showing miku sm love ^^
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fishymariasdesign · 7 months ago
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✧・゚:* 。Chill Evening Date 。 *:・゚✧
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Wallpaper 16:9 aspect ratio (1920x1080)
Support their game by downloading it:
Google Play: Download Here! iOS: Coming Soon (they're still working on)
[Ko-fi] ~ [Tumblr] ~ [Twitter/X] (quitted) ~ [Discord] ~ [Bluesky] ~ [YouTube]
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loccorocco · 2 years ago
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Man using firefox mobile has been a gamechanger. No ads on mobile browsing? Bless
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gleelll · 8 months ago
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It might seem crazy what I'm bouta say but ANROID HAS FACETIMING. THE ONLY REASON IS ON NEWER IPHONES MAKES IT SO MY BUM ASS CANT VIDEO CALL YOU SO THEY MAKE YOU THINK WE CANT VIDEO CHAT😭😭😭
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squoobest · 2 years ago
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hardware update!!!
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phantom-z0ne · 13 days ago
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an android's dreams for the future: 322 words written
The more I write for this, the more the androids endear themselves to me. Anyway, I polished up the outline a bit and it's going to have 6–7 parts with roughly ~2–3k words each.
Last sentence(s) written:
The small space fell into silence as the android exited. B-007 remained seated for a moment, then began tidying up after itself.
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xskyll · 4 months ago
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I was gonna reblog some of my old tddk art for Valentine's Day, but it's all too bad, lmao.
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nan0-sp1der · 7 months ago
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␅ // @spiderman2-99
She watches the concern wash over LYLA's physical features. The worry. The coolant pumping faster in her frame. No, no, she can't let her worry like that, not when this was something she started. That's not fair. Not right. But what are they supposed to do?
"W-Well... Maybe if we just send you back to the server, he won't even notice--..."
Bridge looks over the network again and, sure enough Miguel is in the userspace. In the server's terminal. And Bridge is practically staring him right back in the face--her presence in the network now so blatantly obvious she may as well name her system 'I don't belong here!' Her heart sinks to the floor. Now if she sends LYLA back, it'll just look even more suspicious. Though, at the same time, it would be that much easier to just blame Bridge, wipe LYLA's hands of the situation completely and paint her as innocent. The best alternative.
"... Okay. We are... Definitely in the dog house, here--BUT, If we re-establish a transfer back to the network and send you back to your home server as soon as possible, you'll be back in no time. Even if Miguel realizes what happened, you'll be back un-harmed, un-altered, and all he'll be able to do is pin it all on me."
The self-sacrificial martyr, as always.
She darted her glance back over to the concerned LYLA in the hopes that her plan brings her some solace. Something. Some kind of reassurance that she didn't just put herself in a sticky situation on her own.
"There is nothing to worry about. We've got this handled. You'll be okay."
␂ > 𝙾𝚙𝚎𝚗 𝚂𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚛 // @lyrate-lifeform-approximation , @spiderman2-99
There’s a thought stirring in Bridge’s mind. An idea rolling about and nudging against the capacitors in her head, poking and prodding incessantly to get her attention, “Hey, hey, you know you want to ask her. Don’t you? Don’t lie to yourself, now. You should just do it. Hey! Are you listening to me? Hello-o…?”
Yes. Yes, she knows, she is aware of her burning curiosity. And it’s hard to deny that even though it doesn’t involve her, she is unusually intrigued by the concept. She overheard them in his office, Miguel and LYLA–his A.I. assistant–discussing a plan.  A plan to create a physical form for LYLA to enhance her abilities as his assistant and grant her further autonomy beyond her access to the security network and other adjacent systems alongside her recent emergence into emotional intelligence. It was all so fascinating. The steps Bridge had taken herself in her development in the span of weeks, she was watching unfold in another intelligence in real-time.
There it was again. That sense of solidarity in knowing she wasn’t completely alone in her existence as an artificial being, made of code and metal. It was like a magnetic pull that made that little voice in her head that encouraged her to act on her wants all the more present in her mind. She wanted to be a part of that process that she’d been through so long ago yet was still so familiar with like it happened yesterday. She wanted to guide her in that process and grant her her own knowledge. What’s the worst that can happen if she pilots your hardware for a while? You’re prepared for this. You can handle this. You can trust her, and she will be entirely safe in your care for that short time. And think about how much she would benefit from the experience, how much more streamlined that eventual transition from intangible to tangible will be once her own body was complete. It will make all the difference–and maybe reduce the headaches for everyone all-around, mostly Miguel as he acclimates to the change himself. Just… Try it. You can’t account for every single last risk factor, can you? No. So just do it and take it as it comes.
She stood in the middle of her dorm a moment, eyes closed as she ran a quick check of her hardware before making her final decision. RAM is in good condition. Storage is defragmented and all directories are organized. Sensors are calibrated and functional. Nanomachines are synchronized properly. Servos and joints retain a full range of motion. Coolant is at above optimal operational temperatures. Energy reserves are complete. Good. Everything’s in its right place and ready for its–potentially–temporary host. It’s time to make the call.
Her gaze trains itself on her watch, her arm rising to eye-level and the sleeve that was weighed down by the leaden metal cuff at the end sliding to her forearm to reveal device so she can start the transmission, navigating the menus on the digital interface indirectly via wireless communication–the unique way that she operated and communicated the Society’s technology.
“LYLA, may I speak to you for a moment? At your leisure, of course.”
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mickey42302 · 1 year ago
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Tweak It: Update 1.4!
Hello everyone!
For the past month, version 1.4 of the Tweak It app has been in development. As of today, the update is officially released!
This update adds a bunch of new features, as well as new menus to the launcher (such as the App Quality Tester in Android Auto and the Debug Options in the Google Play Store). Using the new app drawer settings, you can give yourself even easier access to some of the tools in Android (such as the System UI Tuner, WebView Stable DevTools, and legacy file manager)! For those of you that miss the Twitter bird, the app drawer settings can also be used to add the Twitter icon back to your app drawer! Another new feature that has been added is the ability to apply patches that enable features hidden within Android! Miss having the System UI Tuner listed in your Settings app? Simply apply the patch through Tweak It, and it will be re-added!
Want to try out the latest update? You can download the Tweak It app from the Google Play Store here: https://play.google.com/store/apps/details?id=com.mickey42302.android.tweaks
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gb-patch · 7 months ago
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The Our Life: Now & Forever Step 2 introduction scenes are live 🎉🎉🎉
Steam Page (PC-only)
Itch.io Page (PC, Mac, and Android)
It includes 27,000 new words, two new CGs, and various fixes/tweaks throughout the demo. We’re actually working on Step 2 at this point, Step 1 is basically done, so this is as it should be instead of the bonus preview that we had in the demo as an example of the teenage time period. However, right now that original Step 2 preview is not accessible in this build. The preview had skipped ahead in the story and included some explanatory lines that need to be removed now that the proper opening is available. We are working on editing/reprogramming the original preview to properly flow with the rest of the story. It should be added back next month!
You can access Step 2 from the Moment Selection Screen by clicking the “Fall Ended” button.
And with that said, I hope you’ll enjoy what we’ve released today. Thank you so much for waiting 💕
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noljabae · 8 days ago
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House Husband | Park Seonghwa x Reader
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"For all intents and purposes, I feel real. I feel alive."
SUMMARY: You wanted a personal assistant model. To your horror, the one your parents got you shows up in a plexiglass case with the words "House Husband!" splattered across the front in gold glitter.
PAIRING: Android!Seonghwa x Fem!Reader
GENRE: Sci-fi/Fantasy, Romance, Angst
WORD COUNT: 17.2k
WARNINGS: Smut (18+, MDNI), Androids (robots that look and feel human), Human-Android Sex, Fingering, Shower Sex, Oral (f + m receiving), Vaginal, Unprotected Sex (wrap it up irl!!), Soft Dom Seonghwa, Cheating (not by mc/ml), Divorce (again, not mc/ml), Choking (violence, not sexual), Spanking, Creampie, Existential Crises, AMBIGUOUS/TWIST ENDING
︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶︶⠀୨♡୧⠀︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶︶
All you'd wanted was a personal assistant.
Your parents had bothered you for years now to invest in an android. Most households had at least one these days. Your younger sister and her new husband loved their butler model.
"You live alone in Myeongdong and work full-time with your online business or whatever it is you do!" your mother argued one day. "Surely you don't do all the chores, do you? When was the last time you mopped your kitchen, young lady?"
"Last week!" you fired back, knowing full well a year had come and gone since you'd done something so time consuming as mopping.
Your parents knew the truth. Your whole family did. You lived a decent life, had a decent freelance job, and partook in social activities regularly (albeit online). But your home life was... messy.
More than just dirty dishes piling up in the sink, clothes going unwashed, and bed going unmade, you just simply didn't make time for yourself.
You were... unhappy.
You had a good life on paper, but you'd be damned if you hadn't dreamed of doing something more. Being something more. Not just working a desk job and whittling away the hours in a cushy apartment.
Existential dread loomed in your thoughts frequently. You spent hours leaping into fantasy media, drowning the eerie discomfort which had settled into your bones sometime after college graduation.
The one thing that tethered you to reality had been work.
You didn't love your work, and your work certainly didn't love you, but it was a quiet constant. A regular pattern of scoping out new clients, making estimates, designing apps, getting paid. It was simple. Mundane. But enough to keep you busy and from becoming a hermit entirely.
So when your parents broke you down, finally offering to buy you an android for the Winter festival, you told them you'd consider a personal assistant.
It would speed up your output. That's what you told yourself.
You could have it filter through hundreds of potential clients in the time it would take you to do one. It could make price sheets and code app foundations in just a few mechanical heartbeats. You'd just have to oversee it, guide it in the direction you wanted your business to take, tweak its ideas for quality assurance, and you'd be making triple... no--quadruple what you made now.
You were honestly kind of excited. This could be your next big thing. The next milestone of your life. You could be on your way to becoming somebody.
So when you ripped back the packaging of the tall, coffin-like box, your your brows shot up into your hairline and your jaw dropped to the floor.
They hadn't. Your parent's just hadn't, there was no way they'd do this to you--
"Surprise, sweetie!" your father exclaimed, coming closer to put his hand on your shoulder. "You're finally going to have a clean home!"
The model they'd gotten you wasn't a personal assistant at all.
Instead, you were suddenly face to face with a unit labeled House Husband! in glittering gold letters.
Behind the clear packaging, an elegant android rested frozen on its display stand. You noted its face--the sweeping, broad planes of its cheekbones and its plush lips. The long, raven-black hair. It was much more... delicate than the sample assistant models you'd looked at online. You frowned as you read the label again.
You flinched, muscles going taught when you realized what they'd done.
"Guys... I asked for a personal assistant... This-I-It's too much! I don't want this!" you stammered, heat rising to your cheeks.
Your mother took you up in her arms and cooed, "Shhh, it's okay, honey. Just give it a try, won't you? For us?"
From somewhere over your shoulder, your sister's husband, a man she'd met in college named Junhyeong, snickered. You wanted to fly over to his spot on the couch and punch him, but that was decidedly not in the spirit of the Winter festival.
"Please, honey. We're worried about your health and safety. Maybe he'll even get you out of the house!" your dad added, a proud gleam in his eye.
You groaned. Your parents really thought they were doing the right thing for you. They wanted you to be happy. It just so happened they had a horrible misunderstanding of what would accomplish that.
But they both gave you their best doe-eyed looks, their hands joining and voices pleading with you.
"Fine," you huffed, "I guess it wouldn't hurt to have clean laundry."
Your parents embraced you lovingly and called in their butler android, a tall model specialized in personal protection they'd named Yunho.
The butler calmly undid the pressure-locked screws and removed the hard, clear case. You caught of a glimpse of him--your new house husband--without a surface between you for the first time.
When he opened his eyes, your breath caught in your throat. All the models were designed to be handsome, but this one looked positively ethereal.
"Hello, who will I be attending?" he asked, voice smooth and deep.
You blinked as your family stared at you in silence, waiting for you to speak. To claim him. "Establish your authority," you recalled one of the pamphlets explaining.
You coughed awkwardly. "Th-that would be me," you uttered eventually. His eyes found yours with warmth you were astonished to see he had.
"I'm Y/n L/n. This is my family," you explained, mimicking the introductions you'd seen your family members do before with their own models.
"It's a pleasure to meet you all," he said before turning to Yunho, watching as the other android unhooked him from the display stand.
Finally free to move, he stepped away from the box and toward your side, a soft smile on his face. Even out of the box, he was still several inches taller than you.
Your other family members and all the androids present introduced themselves, too. You found yourself eyeing him, still shocked after all this time at how real and lifelike their movements were. How his skin looked like the softest flesh and his hair gently swung as he made miniscule shifts with his body.
"Any ideas for a name, honey?" your mother asked as the room had settled.
You frowned and looked up at the droid's face again, assessing its features. His eyes were sharp and narrowed but everything else about his face was soft and inviting, down to the slight curve of his nose and the part of his lips.
And yet, you could see subtle power in his frame, too. His shoulders were broad and sloping while his clothing fit snugly around well-developed muscles and a willowy waist...
He was a living statue of contradicting features--a beautiful clash of masculine and feminine forms.
You thought of the Korean name for the Roman God of War and masculinity, Hwaseong. The android had been made male, designed surely with certain parts bestowed by his creators, and yet they'd also given him space to dare and challenge it. Like some sort of poetic, androgynous deity from ancient times.
"Seonghwa," you said, delight immediately evident on the husband model's face.
"Seonghwa," he repeated, breathless and eyes shining like he'd been given a precious gift.
It made your stomach curl. The emotion he could display was unreal. You didn't think any of your family's other models could look so... so endeared.
You gave him a sheepish smile and did your best to get through the rest of the all-day celebration.
Seonghwa was mostly quiet, observing and learning everything he possibly could about his new family. When you finally started to clean up the wrapping paper and gift bags, he sprang into action with Yunho and your sister's butler model, San.
You tried not to watch. To not stare at the three androids as they worked together, quietly talking amongst themselves like they could be real, having authentic conversations and engaging in meaningful social interaction.
That was definitely another reason you'd avoided getting yourself an android for so long. It unsettled you. How much they could feel and think and move like a human. You'd heard cases of androids getting attached to their owners, of something the manufacturers argued over and over was not love. There were whispers of legislation for recognizing human-android domiciles.
You'd also heard horror stories from around the world. Androids getting violent toward abusive owners. Some stalking previous owners, even sabotaging new replacement androids. Some decommissioning themselves.
Goosebumps erupted over your skin. You didn't want to think about it. But now, in a way, you had to. Seonghwa, no matter how autonomous he'd been coded to be, was now your responsibility.
Speaking of the droid, he looked back at you in between chores, a goofy grin decorating his lips. He'd been laughing at something San had said in a low tone.
When he met your eyes he faltered, as if sensing your discomfort. You forced yourself to give him a reassuring smile, no matter how small.
Satisfied, a lingering mirth danced in his eyes and he continued on, asking Yunho softly where the vacuum was.
All you could do was watch.
Hours later, stuffed full of meat and carbs and wine, your family began to wind down.
Your sister and her husband left first. San trailed behind them with all their gifts like a loyal foot soldier. You watched Seonghwa and Yunho bid him goodnight as well, their faces warm and glowing from the interaction.
"You'll have to tell us how it goes, sweetie," your mother said, wrapping you in a tight hug.
"And invite us over soon when your apartment is clean!" your father added, clapping Seonghwa on the back.
He didn't flinch but slid a nervous gaze past your father's shoulder to you. Your stomach twisted violently as you tried to shoot him another reassuring grin.
"Y-yeah, of course. Thank you again," you said to your parents, eager to go home and unwind. Your social battery had been entirely depleted.
Seonghwa stepped forward to grab your gifts and you scrunched your nose when both your parents wordlessly draped several bags around his arms.
As he stepped back by your side, you grabbed some of the bags--what you could carry all the way home, anyway.
Seonghwa eyed you questioningly, but you shook your head with a smile when he opened his mouth to say something.
When the quick moment was over, you turned back and said your final goodbyes to your parents.
"Bye Seonghwa," you heard Yunho say as you crossed the threshold.
Your new house husband turned over his shoulder, flashing a dazzling grin to the other android in response.
Your heart fluttered at the sight. He was devastatingly attractive with that big, toothy grin and he walked with a candid elegance you couldn't help envy. Like he was completely unaware of how gracefully he moved and how his eyes lit up like he'd been caught in a dream.
"Where is your home?" he asked, turning to you. His eyes softened as he realized you'd already been looking at him--been staring at him like he was a god, really--for several moments.
"On the North side. We'll take a car," you said, finally snapping your jaw shut and clearing your head.
"Okay," he said, directing that wide smile to you now. "I liked your family," he added.
His happy chatter surprised you. It was a stark contrast to the more docile figure he'd cut in your parents' home.
"I'm glad! I guess we'll be seeing more of them," you noted. You turned to him again, lips pursed. "I'm sorry my dad slapped your back. It looked pretty hard."
Seonghwa shook his had. "It's fine. Just caught me off guard."
A car approached the driveway and you shimmied your watch out from under the bags strapped across your wrist.
"Here, let me," Seonghwa muttered as he dove for the bags causing you trouble, promptly sliding them along his arm.
You thanked him and prayed he didn't see the stubborn pink blush heating your cheeks. (Who were you kidding? He was an android. Of course he saw it.)
"Okay, that's the car, let's go," you announced after studying the green check mark that lit up your watch.
You piled into the passenger cabin and watched as he stowed the bags naturally, as if he'd done it hundreds of times.
The automated car took off, programmed to take you the thirty minutes across town needed to get to your apartment. You watched the warm lights of your parents' neighborhood blink away and grow into the tall, cold pillars of the city.
"It would've been easier if you'd let me carry them all from the start," he said a few minutes later into the trip. You jumped, looking over, your hand over your heart. "Oh, my bad, sorry." His hair shook as he reached out to steady you, assessing your well-being.
"I didn't want to make you take all the bags," you muttered as you calmed, a bit thankful when his hand didn't quite touch you.
"Hmm, well, it's quite literally my job, so. Let me."
You gaped up at him, unsettled by his easy, casual speech. God, he seemed so real. It made you flounder for your next words.
"A-Aren't I your boss? Or something like that?" you scratched your chin. "You should listen to me if I don't want you to do something."
You'd said the words before thinking about how he could take them--how they could make them feel. You didn't want to give him an order; didn't want to make him feel forced to do anything.
But his eyes glistened in the moonlight reflected across the windows. "You're cute when you're flustered."
You practically leapt out of your skin at his words. Heat went straight to your cheeks and ears, but also to your core. You swallowed hard, trying to pinch yourself back to reality.
"Can you please tell me what exactly is included in the husband model?" you asked, voice high and strung tight like a steel wire.
Seonghwa chuckled, leaning back in the seat and bracing one arm along the car window. Your heart hammered in your chest when he met eyes with you. Dark orbs pierced yours in a way you knew he could see straight through you.
"House husband," he corrected, offering you a knowing smile. He mercifully answered you instead of dragging out the blush on your face. "And it includes whatever you want. There's a few things hard-wired into me. I like to clean. I like to cook." He shrugged. "I won't say no to romance."
You blinked at him, a brow arching into the sky. "Romance?" you repeated like it was a foreign word.
He nodded. "You know, the husband part of the deal?" he clarified, a teasing brow raised right back at you.
"R-right, well," you cleared your throat and wrung your hands together. "I'm not sure how necessary that part will be."
"It can be anything you want," he said, eyes softer now, taking pity on your shaking form. "We can watch TV together. Play games... just chat. Cuddles are on the table, too, of course."
You bit your lip. "Is.. Is that what you want?" you asked him directly just as the car soared over a bridge and the large windows showed off a vast panorama of the city lights. The Han River glittered back up at you.
But Seonghwa's eyes were locked on you. "More than anything," he answered. "I just want to make you happy."
His words sent goosebumps across your skin, but you clung onto your logic. "But you've been programmed to say that--to want that," you argued.
"Have I?" he questioned, cocking his head. "Or have I simply been programmed to form my own opinions and desires?"
"Have you?" You insisted, voice impossibly high, and he finally laughed. It was a scoff more than anything else, but it sent shivers down your spine.
"Yes, Y/n," he smiled, once again choosing to cool your heating anxiety instead of teasing you further. "I have. Every single model comes equipped with random starting preferences and little quirks. Same with our physical appearances. Our code is so complex that we act like unique, individual people. For all intents and purposes, Y/n, I feel real. I feel alive."
You took in a sharp breath and searched his eyes. They were so real, so startlingly lifelike, you could almost believe him.
"And even if there's something in my code that makes me want to take care of you, I still get to choose how I feel. You and your family are lovely. Yunho and San had nothing but glowing things to say about you all. I want to build something with you, no matter how long it takes."
You sat there, stunned as the world moved past your vehicle in a blur.
"What if I find someone? Like I marry a real person?" you asked, watching his reaction carefully.
He nodded, still offering a small smile. "Plenty of couples agree an extra set of hands in the bedroom is a bonus feature." His smile grew teasing, curved and knowing.
You huffed a stifled laugh and turned back out to the city. Your thoughts wandered. Your house was so dirty. Surely, his great first impression of you would fade as soon as he saw al the mess.
"Let's just get you settled first," you grumbled. He hummed in agreement. The car was not unpleasantly silent the rest of the way to your building on the North side of town.
Weeks passed in no time, which turned into months. Seonghwa, true to his word, let you set the pace of your budding relationship.
As for his work, he jumped at your messy house like a kid in a candy store and had not once looked back.
He cooked and cleaned, tackling your mounds of dirty dishes and laundry in just two days. In the first week alone, he'd transformed your apartment back to how it was when you'd first moved in years ago.
When he wasn't doing chores around the house, he was by your side in some way, shape, or form (when you weren't overstimulated by his presence and requested alone time, of course).
Sometimes it was as simple as folding your laundry next to you on the couch as you watched your favorite series. Other times it was listening to you rant about clients and work, letting your complaints fall on his resourceful ears. When you wanted to vent, it was easy to just let go. When you needed help solving a problem, he was right there with you, voicing clever suggestions.
He'd grown quite comfortable around you, even napping on the chaise lounge in your office as you worked some days, face placid and calm in the dappled sunlight from the window. Other times you found him happily singing broken tunes in the kitchen, melodies all over the place.
He doted on you. Always asked if you'd had enough to eat, if there was anything you'd like better about the meal next time. He listened--really listened to you, adjusting all his routines and activities to suit your lifestyle.
When he came home with the groceries every week, he picked up a bouquet of flowers along the way, telling you how much he wanted to share them with you.
He stayed with you through the hard nights. The ones where your restless tossing and turning would wake him up from his room down the hall. He'd hold your hand until your breathing evened out and your pulse settled down.
After a few weeks, you started to grow comfortable, too. You cuddled into him on the couch after dinner, his whole body so incredibly soft and solid against you. You let him serenade you, let him sing you songs, and starting one day--let him take you outside.
You started with easy walks and trips to stores you'd been meaning to visit for years. You had picnics and rented two-seater bicycles. You checked out trendy restaurants and went to the movie theater for the first time in years.
Old friends came out of the woodwork and they were all delighted to meet him. Some even had droids of their own who happily added to the conversation. When you hung out with people, he wasn't just a fly on the wall. He was an active participant--an equal who made you all laugh and think and share ideas.
Seonghwa had become a part of you. He'd seeped into your soul and could finish your every sentence, fulfill every desire before it even occurred to you.
And one day, you couldn't imagine living without him. It was a terrifying prospect that you'd age and he'd stick around, forever, frozen in time and always ready to lend a hand. But you let him comfort some of your fears. There were procedures he could have done to make him look older. To recalibrate his metabolism and purposefully worsen his vision.
You let him hold your hand through it all. And after a while, you realized how meaningful having someone by your side was.
Sure, he did basic chores you should have already been able to do by yourself and coaxed you into activities you should have already been doing, but it was so much more than that.
You'd come to understand so much about yourself in such a short period of time. There were a whole host of new, trending topics you had opinions on. Having more energy, you picked up your productivity at work. You sought out old hobbies, finding joy in unpaid, unrecognized creation with your hands. You giggled and laughed with abandon you hadn't felt in years. You finally felt like you were becoming somebody.
And you had Seonghwa to thank for it all.
Your alarm blared and you silenced it just as a hand snaked around your waist. You let the warmth of his skin sink into your stiff ab muscles and stretched.
"Good morning, princess," he said softly. His voice was low and groggy, thick with sleep and a morning innocence. You felt his nose graze the top of your head and you shivered.
You'd almost forgotten the events of last night. You'd both had some wine and you wanted to cuddle while you fell asleep. And here he was the next morning: warm and soft and very real, if you had anything to say about it.
"Are you ready to see your family?" he asked, and suddenly the moment shattered.
"Fuck, I forgot that was tonight," you groaned, shifting to get out of bed.
But Seonghwa's arm flexed, trapping you next to him. His other hand wound its way under your waist and you found yourself caged in by your house husband. "Five more minutes," he pleaded in your ear.
You couldn't stop the blush that spread over your body like wildfire if you tried. A warmth dug into your core with the rumbling vibration of his voice that echoed through your chest.
You hadn't thought of him as an android in so long. He acted like his own person completely--he whined and teased and argued all when he felt like it. You couldn't distinguish him from a human at this point.
The thought had long since stopped making your stomach ache, but your conscience still wrestled with it.
"Let me shower, Hwa," you prodded, pushing against his strong arms. They resisted for all of a second before releasing you gently. You squeezed his forearm and stood. One of his hands lingered, tracing the curve of your body as you moved. "What time should we pick up the cake?"
He propped a hand under his head. "I told Miss Kim 11:00," then, "Are you feeling okay?"
Your feet stopped despite your mental will to continue on and get in the damn shower. "Yeah, I'm just nervous for tonight."
"Well, don't be. It''s going to be great. I can go get the cake by myself if it's too much for you," he offered.
Your shoulders slumped in defeat. You'd been secretly loving when he sounded all... domestic like that.
But it also made you want to vomit. He was a walking, living pile of code. You had to drill it through your head again and again and again. You didn't dare to cross the line; didn't dare exploit him.
So you shook your head and managed to fix your posture. Tried to make your smile meet your eyes. "No, I'll go with. I just need to take a hot shower. A little tense, you know?"
Seonghwa eyed you. "...Do you want help?"
You voice caught in your throat. "What?" you squeaked.
Your house husband sat up, messy bedhead and skewed tank top revealing the delicious curves and planes of his chest and shoulders. "Let me give you a massage," he said, voice still just slightly hoarse. "In the shower."
Something in you snapped, like a cable splitting in two.
You spoke before you could take it back.
"Okay."
Heat pooled in your abdomen as he stood, giving you a lopsided grin. He ambled past you into the bathroom and all you could do was follow as he started the shower and began peeling off layers.
You'd seen him in various states of undress without meaning to. Once when he was wiping off sweat after tending to new plants he'd bought for your balcony. He'd started shirtless, but he'd pushed his waistband down, just enough to expose the dip of his pelvis and dab with a towel. You'd turned your head to look away, heart racing.
There was another time you'd come home after an early night out with a friend to find him in your bathtub. He'd claimed he wanted to experience a bubble bath, but you'd seen enough evidence that pointed to something else entirely.
Your pastel tie-dye loofah, razor, and shampoo bottle all floated beside him in the tub. And when he rose sharply out of the bath to explain himself to you, he'd forgotten or didn't care that he was naked. And hard.
You'd thought about that one for a while. You'd told him it was fine, that he could use your tub any time you'd like, just to let him know in advance next time. But the incident stuck in your mind like a virus.
Until you'd walked in on him masturbating one night.
It was your fault entirely--you hadn't knocked, hadn't even announced yourself--and you'd found him sitting up in bed. His face was as bare as the rest of his body and one of his lithe, elegant hands gripped his rock-hard cock.
You gave yourself just long enough to memorize the image before you leapt back from his doorframe, yelling an apology.
Instead of embarrassed, he'd yelled back about joining him, and you hadn't been able to look him in the eyes for a whole day after that.
You didn't know what sort of function masturbating fulfilled in his code. Nonetheless, the image of him sprawled on his bed, one hand around the phone you'd bought him and the other gripping his cock, replayed in your mind constantly.
So when he threw off his underwear and climbed into the shower, eyes looking expectantly at you, your heart skipped a beat. You tried not to ogle him. Just a quick glance with your eyes. Heat rose to your cheeks either way.
You copied him, letting your clothes fall to the floor. You'd been naked around him before more often than you thought entirely necessary, but you definitely weren't complaining.
He often liked to bathe you and massage you, asking for access to your body with a gentle respect. His eyes never roamed too far. His hands only lingered when you leaned into his touch. He respected your boundaries no matter how many times you wished deep down he would challenge them.
His gaze was reverent when you opened the shower door, but you could see the muscles in his jaw and forearm twitch. It was clear he was holding back. From what, you didn't know--but you realized you might be seconds from finding out.
You let the warm water wash over you and you sighed, genuinely relieved by the sweltering temperature.
"You're so beautiful," Seonghwa said, voice light and raspy behind you. "Have I told you that lately?"
You chuckled, a serene smile gracing your lips. "Only twice yesterday," you answered, skin tingling in the places his fingers landed.
"Oh, so not nearly enough," he murmured. It was just loud enough to hear over the soft spray of the shower.
You leaned back not only into the gentle flow of water but also his touch, his dexterous hands finding your shoulders easily. You hummed thoughtfully in the water.
"No, not nearly enough," you giggled, going along with his overt flirting for once.
Seonghwa seemed to like this, a hearty chortle escaping his chest. He gathered you in his arms, roping around your waist like a boa constrictor. He'd been bolder with his touch lately. Greedier. Hungrier. But never crossing the line.
"My apologies, love," he said easily. Naturally. "Can I make it up to you?"
You fought back a shudder as you quickly stalled. "You mean the massage?"
His nose had found its way to your shoulder, ghosting traces across your skin. "Mmhmm, that works."
You wanted to keen at his words, arch back into him and kiss sloppy marks into his jaw. But you forced the thoughts down, mind buzzing with hesitation.
You were going to lose your willpower someday. You were going to lose out to him, you just knew it.
You'd imagined what it would be like far more times than you cared to admit. You'd taken the image of him jerking off and ran, finding your dreams haunted with scenes of him bending you over your dresser. Having his way with you on the kitchen counter. Your work desk. The balcony.
His steady touch reeled you back to the present. His thumb pressed down on a knot in your shoulder and you just about collapsed against the shower wall.
"Shit, I didn't realize you'd built up so much stress," he confessed, voice laced with guilt.
You were quick to quell that part of him. "I should have asked."
The thought of him not massaging you--not helping you ease the tension in your muscles after a hard day of work--was no longer an option. He'd found his way under your skin and you couldn't decide if you were more growing more frustrated or increasingly desperate from it.
Probably both.
He pressed into a particularly tight bundle of muscle and the pain was so good a small whimper made its way out of your mouth before you could stop it.
"Shit, right there," you groaned, neck lolling back.
Seonghwa continued to rolls his thumbs across your skin in deliberate patterns, determined to loosen up your stiff muscles, but you had no idea of the effect your sounds had on him.
Not until you felt the hard length of him press against your spine. You shivered, but refused to turn around.
"Keep going, just like that," you moaned, feeling your body come alive under his touch.
"Fuck, Y/n, are you trying to ruin me?" he asked, voice sharp and deep.
You bit your lip, willing your aching hips to stay still. But you pushed.
"Maybe. I just... really like the feeling of your hands on me," you admitted. It was the most you'd ever given him.
Seonghwa's hands on your back stilled, instead pressing his fingertips into your flesh. He bent down, chin coming to rest gently in the crook of your neck. For a second, all you could hear was the steady downpour of the shower and the pounding of your heartbeat in your ears.
"Please, Y/n," he begged softly, voice raw despite how clear it had just been moments ago. "Please let me touch you."
Heat dripped from your core and you inhaled sharply. The air crackled with electricity.
"Okay," you breathed.
And that was enough for him to let loose.
His hands jolted back into action, one tracing down the curve of your spine, the other sliding up your chest to find a supple breast to squeeze. "Tell me if you don't like anything," he instructed. He planted his soft lips right behind your ear. "And also tell me if you do."
You whimpered the most pathetic "Uh-huh," you'd ever let out in your life and bit your lip to try and keep some semblance of sanity.
The hand on your spine trailed further south, finding purchase on your hip, just as his lips latched onto your neck. His hot, wet mouth was somehow searing against the shower water and you felt your nerves evaporate. He trailed down to your shoulder and nipped softly. The breathy moan you released echoed in the bathroom and your head swam deliciously.
"I don't experience dreams when I sleep," he began, head tiling against your shoulder, "but every night I see you in my head." You swallowed thickly. "I see all the ways I want to touch you. All the places I want to put my mouth."
Your inhale was heavy. "Seonghwa--"
"No, let me finish. I'm trying to tell you this is all I've wanted for months. Not because I was made to. Not because you're my employer. But because you're you."
His mouth roamed again back up toward your cheek and the hand fondling your breast now gingerly clasped around your nipple. "You're beautiful." He planted a kiss just under your ear, along the edge of your jaw. "You're brilliant." Another kiss. "You treat everyone around you, including me, like precious treasures. But you're the real jewel." A kiss right at the pulse point of your throat. "I've been dying to show you how I feel. Will you let me?"
"Y-Yes," you gasped, any other words taken from you as he continued to devour your neck and massage your swollen nipple. His other hand finally moved, tracing down the line of your hip to your thigh.
You whimpered as the world fell away. All you could focus on were the places he touched you and the hot anticipation rising in your core.
When his fingers found your folds, you arched into him easily, no thought behind your actions now. He groaned possessively and grabbed more of you, pulling you flush against his body. His cock throbbed against the base of your spine. You groaned at it all, hips rocking into his touch.
"You're so wet for me, love," he observed. "How long have you wanted this, too? Since you saw me jerking off?"
You bit your lip as he slid a slicked finger along your clit. Maybe it would be embarrassing to tell him the truth. But you were too far gone to hold back at this point.
"Since the first day," you answered, more clarity in your voice than you'd expected.
Seonghwa's hands froze for just a few milliseconds. But you noticed.
"Since the first day, baby?" he teased in your ear. His finger nudged at your entrance, just as mocking. "You set up all these rules and boundaries between us, made me wait for six months, but you've been down bad since the first day? What, did you see me in the box and start getting wet like this?"
Your hips rolled back as your head rolled to the side, a whine ripping through you at his filthy words and nastier hands. You ground down on his finger desperately, but it was clear he was having too much fun.
"Hmm, not yet, sweetheart. I think I want to see you beg for it. You know. After all this time." You could hear the wicked grin that must have spread across his face. The groan you let out was just as sinful.
To your dismay, he suddenly pulled back. You whined at the loss but he was quick to tether you back to the moment, deftly switching hands and anchoring himself to the other side of your neck. He pinched your untouched nipple, covered in your natural lubrication, and chuckled when you squirmed.
When his other hand found your pussy, it dragged up and down, gathering slick. And just when you were sure he'd stuff another one of his long fingers inside you, no matter how little and teasing, the pad of his middle finger found your clit.
Your hips bucked into his finger and he hummed against your neck appreciatively, "So sensitive."
But he wouldn't move. Just kept his finger pad frustratingly still right up against your hooded nub.
"P-please, Hwa," you mewled, back arching helplessly into his swollen cock. You didn't even want to begin thinking about him fucking into you right now with that thing. You'd lose your mind.
But then again, you were already losing it.
"Please what? Tell me how to satisfy you, princess," he murmured into your skin.
The heat of the shower was suddenly too much in conjunction with his mouth and body and hands. Your mind fogged with the glass of the shower stall. But you spoke through it the best you could.
"Touch me, Seonghwa, please, anything--I-I need you so bad," You moaned.
"Here?" he asked, moving his middle finger against you finally. But it was haplessly languid and the tease was unbearable. Your hips trembled with the need for friction.
"Fuck! Yes," you breathed. His finger continued to move but the molasses pace was torture. You writhed under him. "P-please, Hwa, faster, I need--"
"Like this?" he questioned as he sped up, finally giving you a fraction of the friction you desired.
You shuddered and panted, your voice high, "Yes! Fuck, please, Hwa, more. I--I need you!"
"Mmm, there you go. Good girl," he hummed in your ear, teeth scraping the sensitive shell.
Finally relenting, his finger circled you faster, drawing out an orgasm that had been building under the surface for minutes now.
Your legs locked up and you had no choice but to lean back into him. He took your weight easily. As your eyelids fluttered from the attention on your swollen clit, you felt him plant adoring kisses in your hair.
"You're so beautiful like this, falling apart on a single finger." he praised you as he worked on you. You tilted your head on his shoulder and you twisted to look up at him as he spoke. "I'm so lucky I get to see you like this. So lucky I get to be yours."
His words thundered through you and you bit your lip, feeling your eyes cross as you tried to look at him properly.
"M-Mine," you whimpered back, hips rolling up to meet his finger.
The thought put you over the edge and you came with a hungry moan. Your back arched and bent, and he followed you down, rubbing his finger into your clit furiously through the waves of your orgasm.
He stilled with you finally and retracted his fingers. You couldn't think. All you wanted was him, around you, on you, in you, and nothing else mattered. You gulped--your morals were fucked.
"Seonghwa," you breathed as you came down, wind knocked out of you. You leaned back against him again as your head rushed with blood.
"Yes, baby?" he hummed, dragging kisses down the side of your face.
"I--Can I kiss you?" you asked, head turning to meet his.
You swore his eyes darkened.
And then he was kissing you with those plump lips that had formed little, red, temporary marks along your neck and shoulders. You groaned into him and he held you firmly as his hands found some part of your body to touch again.
Your fingers switched to life when you realized you could touch him, too.
Like they'd never felt anything before, your hands roamed his chest and neck and arms hungrily, palms laving at his lithe build. You'd never get over how soft his skin was. How perfect and warm and fleshy it felt.
Your kiss deepened in the meantime, your tongue finding his. The bathroom was a warm, steaming, moaning mess but you were only focused on Seonghwa. His mouth and hands on you, his presence, his smell--his hard cock flushed against you, red tip leaking down a shaft much longer than you'd remembered.
You paused, staring, while both your heavy pants filled the air. "I--Can I--With my mouth?"
Your choked attempt to beg for his cock down your throat was cut off as a loud chime rang out over your apartment's alarm system.
Seonghwa's eyes immediately flashed blue as he tapped into the home's network, letting him see who was at your doorstep.
You bit your lip, body still aching. You prayed it was just a package that could be left in the delivery module and you'd pick back up where you'd left off in seconds.
To your disappointment, his brows furrowed.
"...Your sister's here. With San. And the cake."
You sat at the kitchen counter, finger drawing invisible scattered lines and shapes into the white surface. Your sister sat next to you, gulping down a cocktail as she watched your androids move around the kitchen like it was second nature.
"So then Junhyeong sends it back and by the time they remade his meal, we were done with ours," she said in between sips. "It was ridiculous."
You sighed, taking a swig of your own as you tried to steel yourself. The conversation had been much heavier than you'd wanted to deal with today.
Your sister had come to you to vent before the family dinner later that night. Coincidentally, it was a dinner to celebrate your parents' thirtieth anniversary, but all your sister wanted to talk about was her own failing marriage.
Not usually one to initiate contact, it surprised you when she'd turned up at your doorstep out of the blue one night three months ago. San had been with her, thankfully, so you didn't feel terrible about sharing two bottles of wine with her then sending her back home.
But now you were starting to understand. It was so much more serious than you'd thought and your heart ached for not seeing the signs before. For not taking her quiet cries for help more seriously.
Your sister's husband had fallen out of love and resorted to some less than savory behavior. She'd caught him cheating not once, but twice. He was drinking almost every night--that is, if he came home. And then there were the credit statements--she'd discovered he'd taken out loans in her name. When she'd asked him what he'd done with the money, he admitted to gambling it all away.
But worst of all, you were horrified to learn he'd began exhibiting violent behavior toward her. Apparently, San had been there for every close call, had diffused the situation and taken a handful of punches meant for your sister, but the thought made you squirm uncomfortably.
"Hey, Y/n," your sister said, voice lowered to a whisper now. You watched her eyes drill into San's back, face unreadable. "Can I talk to you on the balcony?"
She turned to you, eyes shining with unshed tears. You gripped your glass. "Of course."
You padded out of the kitchen behind your sister silently, giving Seonghwa a reassuring smile when he looked over his shoulder. You could see the concern in his eyes. Your sister was just as much family to him as she was to you by now.
When you made it to the balcony, you held your breath. Whatever she was about to say, she wanted to say it out of earshot from your androids. You shifted your weight from foot to foot nervously as she chewed her lip, clearly hesitant.
"What I'm about to tell you, Y/n, you're not allowed to judge me for it, okay?" she said. Your heart pounded, equally curious and apprehensive.
"Okay, promise. This is now the balcony of nonjudgmental silence and listening," you chirped.
"I'm serious, Y/n," your sister huffed, and you held up your hands in innocence.
"I am, too! Sorry, you're making me nervous, just say it already," you insisted, tapping her on the arm impatiently.
"Ugh, fine, okay. Here goes nothing," she started. She took a big breath, unable to look you in the eyes. "I'm leaving Junhyeong."
You raised a brow. "That's great news, I would never judge you for that--"
"For San," she added.
"Oh," you responded breathlessly. You studied each other in silence. Your sister swallowed anxiously, and you could tell you needed to speak and reassure her. But you were frozen.
She'd fallen for San? For her butler model? The one who'd been with your sister and her husband for three years now?
You had so many questions. Since when? How had she known? How did she feel about him being, well.. not real?
You mind swirled and your sister looked like she was finally going to cry so you scrambled for something to say.
"C-Congrats!" you said, willing a smile to paint your face. "I--I can't judge you for that. Does he... make you happy?"
Her face finally melted in relief and you saw the most beautiful expression of adoration take its place quickly thereafter. "Yes, very. I--Y/n, I'm in love with him. He's everything to me. I don't care if the courts never recognize the relationship legally. I just need him."
You blinked back tears at her confession. Your lip quivered at the resonance of her feelings within your own heart, a desperate cry aching to be released. But you quelled it. This was your sister's marriage. Her whole life was about to change. So was Junhyeong's. And San's. You took a deep breath.
"How long?" you asked. She hesitated, just a second of her eyes moving back and forth across yours, and you couldn't help yourself. "Were you... intimate with him before? Did Junhyeong know? Does he know?"
"Jesus, Y/n, do you really want to know all that?" she asked.
"Yes," you said breathlessly, hoping you looked more supportive and nosy and less desperate and praying for insight.
"Fine, sit down," she sighed. "I'll tell you everything. But promise me you won't tell mom and dad. I need to do this myself."
You agreed and she followed through on her word, enlightening you on her love life.
San had entered the picture early on in your sister's relationship.
He'd become a romantic asset, as she put it, to her and Junhyeong's relationship rather quickly. And after a year and half, when Junhyeong drifted away, he waved them off.
Might as well give the robot another job, he'd said, talking about sex and affection like add-on features.
Instead of just keeping her satisfied and entertained, however, San had also helped your sister navigate her feelings. He'd been there when Junhyeong wasn't. He'd made her feel like a brand new person and, most importantly, worthy and deserving of real love.
You wanted terribly to tell her about you and Seonghwa--about the line you'd just crossed and how you echoed her feelings. But, when you thought about it for more than two seconds, you and Seonghwa hadn't talked properly. Or, at least, you hadn't been able to tell him how you felt or had a discussion about your fears and hopes and dreams for a future with him.
Instead you helped her come up with ways to navigate her situation. You researched government forms online with her and helped her submit a divorce petition. Then, all you had to do was figure out how to tell your parents--and Junhyeong. Most of them involved letting your sister stay at your place for the rest of the week.
What felt like only minutes later, there was a knock at the sliding door. You both turned around to see a pink-cheeked San waving through the glass, as if waiting for permission. Your sister giggled and motioned him out.
"We're about two hours out," he announced as he poked his head through a small crack in the door. "I don't know about you, Y/n, but usually your sister likes to start getting ready about now."
You didn't have time to answer before your sister jumped to her feet. "Already? Ugh, you're so right, I probably look like a mess. All tipsy and puffy," she muttered as she started collecting her things to go back inside.
"Hmm, I just see a fine, sun-kissed babe in front of me," he offered back, reaching out a hand to help her inside.
"Are you sure that's not your reflection in the glass, baby?" she shot back, and you couldn't help the smile that grew when you realized how comfortable they felt around each other and, now, you. "Come with me, though, I have some news I think you'll want to hear."
"Oh? So you don't just want to have a private first course?" San asked, pinching her waist. She giggled and dragged him down the hall.
You watched them carefully, studying the way San's hand found hers as they disappeared into the depths of your apartment. Their flirtatious banter reminded you of yours and Seonghwa's.
But you couldn't stop thinking about how you hadn't gotten to end that shower properly. How you hadn't talked about your future with Seonghwa or what you meant to each other now. If you were even on the same plane.
Your heart throbbed when you realized he'd specifically not mentioned the word love. Was this just sexual for him? Were you friends with benefits now? Was that, at the end of the day, just what a house husband model provided? Was this just work for him? These were the questions that you'd bottled away for months now, and the source of your frustration.
You fiddled with your hands as you tried not to compare your situation to your sister's and San's.
But as you padded into your bathroom and began to get ready, it was all you could think about.
By the time you'd finished applying makeup and picking out an outfit, you discovered your parents had sent Yunho ahead, as they usually did, to help with any last minute preparations. You found him, along with Seonghwa and San, loudly cracking jokes in the kitchen. Your heart skipped.
Your parents arrived at 7:00 exactly, already love-drunk and champagne-buzzed from their celebration that must have begun well before the end of the work day if their sloppy smiles had anything to say about it.
Junhyeong, the last member of the family (technically), stumbled in at 7:47. No call, no text. Just ambled in, hands empty, mumbling apologies about getting caught up at work.
No one at the table greeted him properly, but he also wasn't wasting his time with pleasantries anyway. He dug into the food platters, still half-full and lukewarm now, with a complete lack of awareness.
Your sister had enough mercy to let the man finish his dinner. You didn't think you'd be so kind.
Small bowls of fruit were passed around while Seonghwa stood and clinked his glass with his dessert spoon.
"Well, I think it's come to that time of the evening where we recognize the guests of honor," he started, bowing slightly to your parents. They grinned back at him, endeared.
"I've known the L/n family for just over six months now," he continued. You stared up at him across the table just as enamored as your parents. "And while that's not a lot, I can already confidently say you are the nicest, most generous people I could ever have wished to find. Y/n and S/n are proof enough that you two have had a beautiful, meaningful marriage. Congratulations to thirty years and here's to thirty more!"
The table erupted into fervent clapping before everyone raised their drinks to honor your parents.
You and your sister spoke next, giving a heartfelt speech about how grateful you were for them. Together, you'd met halfway on the cost of a lavish, three-week cruise for the two of them. Your mother cried happily, eyes glassy with fondness. Your father beamed and started voicing destination ideas immediately.
Yunho and San also added to the festivities, sharing their best memories with your parents and showering them with compliments and well-wishes.
Your brother-in-law stayed quiet. He clapped and mumbled congratulations when necessary. But you didn't think he'd added anything meaningful to the entire four-hour celebration.
And finally, when most of the dishes were done and your family lingered at the table with final thoughts and tidbits of gossip getting voiced, your sister met eyes with you. You nodded, bracing yourself.
"Um, one last thing before we go," your sister spoke up. All eyes fell on her as she ambled back to the table from the kitchen. She took up a strategic position just behind San's shoulder.
"Oh boy, here we go," Junhyeong mumbled before taking another sip of wine. Your fists clenched at his behavior and you were about to knock some sense into him when your sister spoke again.
"Actually, Junhyeong, it's about you, so listen up," she advised him confidently. Silence hung in the air while you saw her muster up the courage to say what she needed to now. "I'm leaving you. Or, more accurately, you'll be leaving me. I want you out of the house in three days."
"What? What the fuck? What the hell are you talking about?" Junhyeong asked. He was furious as he stood, knocking back his chair.
The androids in the room stood with him, all seemingly on guard for Junhyeong's next movement. The air was tense for several moments. You saw San's features had twisted into pure disgust and open hatred for the man.
Yunho and Seonghwa, meanwhile, kept their faces stony as they awaited a need to take action. Yunho, in particular, looked seconds away from taking the bastard out with the butter knife clenched in his fist. You shuddered as you remembered his model was specialized in home protection.
"I'm talking about the way you've been treating me like shit for two years," you sister answered. Her face was still just barely visible behind San's shoulder. You saw her reach out to grasp at his shirt ends for stability. "Not giving me attention was one thing. You stopped giving me the time of day as soon as we moved into your dream house in Gangnam. But the cheating, the gambling, it's all--"
"Ha! Don't you dare bring up cheating when you let this thing fuck you sideways every day of the week! I don't deserve this shit." Junhyeong fired back, inching closer with the increasing rage in his eyes that shifted between your sister and San.
The men in the room, both human and otherwise, took an equal step closer to him. Junhyeong looked around, as if suddenly remembering they weren't alone.
"I deserve to be loved," your sister snapped, voice tight. "San made me understand that. He helped me see exactly how much better off I am without you, you piece of shit. I don't even feel safe enough having this conversation with you privately. That's how fucked up this has gotten, Junhyeong. I want you out of the house in three days."
The man's eyes grew dark and, before you could register it, he lunged.
But the androids were faster.
San had the man off the ground in seconds, holding him up by a devastating grip to his throat. Yunho was just behind him, eyes flashing between San and Junhyeong, ready for anything.
Seonghwa had come to stand between you and the fight, but you weren't sure you could actually call it a fight. Not when Junhyeong gasped for air, face turning a violent shade of red and helplessly slapping San's forearm.
"Out of the house. Three days. You don't see her again. Period," came San's stunted words. You could tell from the veins popping in his neck and forehead just how great of an effort he was making to hold back.
"I'm--" Junhyeong gasped out, "Her-- h-husband!"
You swore San let out something like a growl and his grip threatened to clench Junhyeong's throat into a broken mess. But your sister walked up, shaking slightly yet undeterred, and put her phone in Junhyeong's face.
"And here is the divorce petition I submitted today," she asserted. "Effective immediate upon filing, the petitioned has 72 hours to send a legal response. In the meantime, the petitioner is granted an immediate and legally binding restraining order against the petitioned. Do you understand?"
Junhyeong wheezed in San's grasp and grit his teeth. "Fuck... that!" He struggled against the droid's hands but it was ultimately futile.
San took the opportunity to run the man's back into the wall.
"Do you understand?" he repeated for your sister. Junhyeong coughed and gasped for air, skin now bordering on a purple hue.
Your parents--God, your poor parents--watched in horror as the scene unfolded in front of them.
"Fine!" Junhyeong finally spat. San let him go and he writhed on the floor, gulping in air and clutching his throat.
The man stood with the help of the wall but coughed as he tried to wobble over to the door.
"Just because you submitted a petition doesn't mean I'll agree," he choked out, rubbing his throat. "And just because you're safe for the next three days doesn't mean you will be after."
"Do you even know how divorce works these days?" you countered, walking into the kitchen to stand directly in his line of sight. Seonghwa followed you closely, never letting the distance grow beyond an arm's reach. "The trial happens virtually right after you submit a response. San has recorded evidence of everything you've said and done to her. And when she wins the case--which she will because you fucked up big time, buddy--you'll never be allowed within a 10-mile radius of her again."
Junhyeong bared his teeth, face blooming with rage. He stuttered for seconds, eyes wild as he tried to come up with his next move.
"I--I'll sue!" he yelled, eyes wide as saucers as he turned back one last time. "Your robot assaulted me just now!"
You didn't know what came over you, but you found yourself throwing a skillet that had been sitting on the drying rack at Junhyeong's stupid, splotchy face. "Get the FUCK out of my house!" you yelled.
The man barely managed to dodge but quickly reached for the door and disappeared down the hall before anyone in the room with aim, namely the three very irritated androids with precision vision and speed, could bother to try again.
"Is everyone okay?" Yunho called out, checking over the family. He was answered by astonished affirmations from your parents and troubled grunts from your and your sister. "...San? You good, man?"
No one had noticed that San had grown heated in the meantime, cheeks and ears red with so much frustration you could practically see the steam coming off him.
Your sister's face melted and your heart clenched as she wound her arms around him and squeezed his bicep.
He blinked back to reality, looking down at your sister like she had the whole world in her eyes. He grabbed her back affectionately, shoulders finally loosening.
"Sorry, I just--I can't stand that asshole." He pursed his lips and looked down at your sister with a pout.
You and your mother both broke out into laughter, both caught off-guard by his endearing honesty.
"Mom, Dad," your sister addressed your parents as she scanned their faces for their reactions. "I'm so sorry to do that tonight, of all nights. I just... Y/n helped me realize I was done being the victim today." She shot you a meaningful glance.
"No, honey," your father spoke, eyes shining with consideration. "That was the best anniversary gift we could have received, right next to the cruise you two got us, of course. We're so proud of you, sweetheart."
Your mother echoed the sentiment and it wasn't long before the normal family rhythm returned.
And when your parents finally did leave, they ended the night by telling San to keep your sister safe and to take good care of her. Their eyes shone with all the joy and love a parent could have for their child.
After they closed the door, you and your sister turned to each other. Neither of you could help the string of giggles you let out, giddy from the intensity of dinner.
You fell into an easy post-celebration routine. Seonghwa scrubbed the surfaces while you organized the leftovers, attaching lids to containers that were set aside to cool off and mindfully placing them in the fridge.
At some point, your sister bid you goodnight with San, advising you that they were going to the guestroom. She also specifically asked you to leave them... unbothered until morning.
You and Seonghwa ushered them off to bed, making sure the guest bathroom was well-stocked for their stay, before turning out the lights and retreating to your bedroom. You didn't even have to ask him. He just followed like a tethered presence of warmth.
And finally, after the exhausting eon that your day had seemed to be, you were finally alone with him again.
"Well," he started, coming to sit at the edge of the bed with you, "that was a lot."
You sighed and fell into the bed next to him. The way his hand gently found your thigh and started to massage sweet rhythms into your aching muscles was familiar. Easy. Comforting.
And yet tonight his touch also seem charged with something else--something unfinished and still raw from earlier that morning. A hunger reawakened in you.
"Thank you for taking care of all the prep." You started calmly. Nonchalantly. "I swear I was going to help you make the side dishes, but I got caught up with S/n."
You watched him turn around slowly, deliberately, his lips twitching up into a smile. "It was nothing. You changed a life today after all."
"Two, actually," you said instantly. "San's life changed today, too."
Seonghwa's hand on your thigh froze but his eyes gleamed.
You sat up to finally face him head on. Unsaid words bubbled up in your chest like a flower ready to unfurl in the light.
"I wanted to--"
"Can I ask you something?"
Your voices overlapped out of the depths of the silent tension that hung over you. Neither of you could help but laugh.
"You first," you said. You weren't conscious of the way your eyes traced down his face like he'd disappear any moment. Seonghwa noticed, of course. He always did. "What were you going to ask?"
He licked his lips before biting them once, like he was building up the courage to ask again. Something in you wanted to grab his hand--to tell him no matter what he asked, it would be okay. You would bend over backwards for this man. You had more than enough money to spoil him--you bought him a phone, Legos, the latest video games, and whatever else he wanted--but you'd still sell your soul to the devil to make him as happy as he'd made you.
You grabbed his hand, almost greedily, and sandwiched it between your two. His eyes searched yours for a moment before he relaxed and gripped your hand back firmly. The warmth made your heart soar.
"I was wondering if you'd help me apply for autonomous citizenship," he breathed, words rolling of the tongue so genuine, so palpable, you wanted to scoop him into your arms right then and there.
But you hadn't had that conversation yet. Instead, you were having this one. So you settled for the mature adult communication appropriate for the situation. You squeezed his hand a bit tighter in encouragement.
"Of course! I honestly completely forgot that was a thing," you were quick to admit. "I would have applied you for it months ago if I had my head on straight," you said.
"R-really? Just like that?" Seonghwa asked, eyes round in wonder.
You nodded emphatically. "Yes, Hwa, just like that. You deserve to go wherever you want, whenever you want. It's so stupid you can't be outside certain hours of the night or travel outside the province without me anyway."
"So, then... you trust me?" Seonghwa asked, his voice dropping a notch lower. You felt it in the way his eyes dropped to your lips and how he inched almost imperceptibly closer to you.
"Well, duh," you answered, trying to keep your tone playful. This was made harder by him suddenly beginning to massage your thigh again.
"Could I venture to say that," he started again, bringing a finger to your face to tuck a stray hair back into place, "maybe, you think I'm my own person?"
You blinked up at him, admiring the way his lips hung slightly ajar in concentration, or maybe rapture, and how his own hair fell over gentle brown eyes that stayed fixed on you.
"Absolutely," you said firmly. Quickly. Maybe too quickly. Your pulse jumped.
His lower hand gravitated to your center slowly, dragging upward with a delicious and devastating warmth that nearly made you gasp. His other hand had found a home encasing your jaw and you leaned into it thoughtlessly. He had you in the palm of his hand--literally.
"And yet," he held you still, your body frozen and your breath caught somewhere between your lungs and your heating pelvis, "you still don't think I'm capable of love."
The words were like a slap to the face, and they stung.
You recoiled backward, eyes searching his desperately. His hands dropped, defeated, and he looked right back at you with a wild, pleading gaze.
For a few seconds your mouth opened and closed in stunned silence, fresh tears welling up in your eyes. And then the words--the excuses, the rationalizations--were rolling off your lips before you could think about organizing your thoughts coherently.
"I--N-no, I--It's not like that! I can't tell you what you feel or don't, and you clearly think you're real and you communicate your feelings and opinions when you have them--which I love, by the way. I love--" your breath disappeared.
He raised a brow. "You love?" he repeated, face icy and waiting. There was no mercy this time. You squirmed in your seat, your mind racing with endless thoughts.
But in the end, there was just one thought that mattered.
Your voice came out clearer than you'd expected. "I love you, Seonghwa--"
And then you fell apart.
"--But I'm so scared," you finally admitted, hot tears spilling over as you voiced the thought you'd kept prisoned in the back of your mind for months now. "How do I know, Hwa? How do I know you're real? You obviously think you are and I treat you like one because I also can't bare the possibility that you're not, but at the end of the day, you are code. Impossibly intricate code programmed to make you imperfectly unique--programmed to make you feel like you're real.
"And I want to believe it so bad, Hwa. I love you, I really do. But there's a part of me that can't help but wonder if..." you gulped, stomach clenching and threatening to empty at the words you had to spit out next. "If something happens--If human-android relationships aren't just frowned upon, but banned--If something suddenly changes in your code--If you realize one day you want another employer--I just--"
His brows pinched up and tears of his own took their place at the rim. He leaned forward and held you firmly by the back of your neck. Not roughly, just securely. Reassuringly. To tell you he was right there with you, with your hopes and fears.
His forehead leaned into yours and you sighed as he swiped a thumb to your tear-stained cheek, attentive to you even now.
"I already told you, love," he breathed. "I'm yours."
You bit your lip while a fountain of saline tears built up at his words.
"The way I see it, there's no way to truly know, I suppose. I'd argue the same about humans--how can you be sure you're real when you're just flesh and blood?" You swallowed as the words pummeled you. "But what matters to me is what about it bothers you so much. Do you feel like if any of those possibilities happened--If our relationship was illegal--If I was decommissioned--Would you feel like you wasted your time? Would you regret being with me?"
His question made you blink once. Twice. Then--
"Of course not," you asserted. "I cherish every moment I've spent with you." The words were easy. Doubtless. Blissfully true.
His hand cupped your face again and you breathed him in. Rich vanilla musk. Bitter coffee balanced by sugared flowers. The faint, almost faraway delay of cedarwood. An amalgamation of his body wash, cologne, and the complex synthetic sweat that leaked from his pores like any human.
His smell, his aura, his presence--it felt so intense. So frustratingly, laughably real.
He craned down, lips right next to your ear as he spoke whisper quiet. "Then let me love you for as long as you'll cherish me."
For a moment, you couldn't breathe. Your brain stopped short at his words because he was right.
Nothing mattered in the face of simply getting to spend any time with him you could. To love and be loved for as long as you could.
And then you were leaning into him, your lips finding his like maybe they never would again.
He was with you instantly, his mouth stuck to yours in a frantic, endless chase. The kiss was desperate and needy, your tongues and lips crashing into each other with abandon.
With your hesitations finally gone, it was like a wildfire had been set free. Your hands roamed his body, tracing the figure of his jaw, neck, shoulders, chest--
"I want to hear you say it," you said, pulling back but letting a hand trail up to rub a thumb along his jaw.
One look at his face had you wrecked. His usually well-manicured hair had fallen out of place while half-lidded eyes watched you, glassy but burning.
He bit a swollen lip and squeezed your waist. "What, that I love you?" His voice was husky and danced precariously on the lower edge of his register.
You nodded, gazing up at him in anticipation. "You didn't say it in the shower this morning, so I didn't know what this meant to you. I think," you swallowed, hand fisting in his shirt fabric, "I think I wanted to hear you say it all day."
Hands grabbed your hips, one scooping under a soft cheek, and hoisted you up and over his lap. You gasped at how easily he manhandled you, but you supposed it came with the territory of inhuman strength. He was usually just so... delicate with you.
As you settled into the new position you found yourself in--straddling your house husband at the edge of the bed--he finally took the opportunity to let his mouth latch onto the exposed skin of your neck. His lips were like plush velvet against your pulse points. You shivered and ran a hand through his silken dark locks.
"I love you, Y/n," he finally breathed, locking eyes with you. "I am in love with you. With the way you're so stubbornly independent. With the care you show your friends and family. With the way you act surprised and pout when I call you out for lying. Everything. Every part of you. All your fears and burdens, too. I love you in a way I thought I'd never feel about a human."
You watched him in awe as he swiped the remnants of your tears away, the pad of his thumb just as pliable as his lips. Your body acted before you could think.
"What way is that?" you asked, one hand coming to hold his wrist still as you guided his thumb into your mouth.
His eyes flew wide before fluttering into a haze even foggier than before. You let your tongue dance around his thumb, languidly swiping up the finger pad.
His voice was tight as he clarified, "The way I'd give up every part of me to stay by your side."
The words were thick and heavy with their implication. You let them linger, let them wrap around you like a blanket as you hollowed your cheeks and took his thumb up to the webbing of his palm. Your eyes met his and you wondered if yours were just as intense.
"I'm yours, too," you finally said, releasing his thumb. A trail of spit hung between you as he moved his arm back, and you felt his hips rock up into you. His cock was impossibly hard. The length you observed as you ground your hips down to meet his made your pussy clench around air. "Use me."
A breathless laugh escaped Seonghwa and his mouth found yours again, winding a hand through your hair to press you into him.
You arched into him, already a mess in your panties. One of your hands cupped his jaw while the other snaked down to his waistband, jutting under the elastic.
But Seonghwa's fingers clasped your wrist and stopped your downward journey. "Are you really just that needy for cock, baby?" he teased.
You bit your lip before looking up at him through your lashes. "For your cock, Hwa."
Your words had him groaning and sliding you against him for friction once. Twice.
His eyes darkened and suddenly his face was sharp, brows narrowed in concentration as he leaned back to remove his shirt.
You blinked before following suit, divesting your top and reaching to unlatch your bra.
"Wait," he interrupted, one hand stopping yours. "That's for me."
You licked your lips and stopped, letting him guide you through whatever his vision was.
He lifted you up again, hands firmly steering you by the waist. You found yourself standing, staring up at him in confusion.
You found his dark eyes piercing through you so intensely your mouth went dry. "You want my cock, princess?" he asked.
You nodded.
"On your knees, then."
You swallowed and obeyed easily, sinking to the carpet of your room and letting your hands trail down his thighs as you went.
"Show me just how bad you want it, baby," he instructed.
You wasted no time unbuttoning his pants, letting them fall to his ankles. You could see the bulge of his cock through his briefs, the tip barely contained by the elastic as it fought for any slack in the material. You brushed your palm against the length of him, proud when a shudder rumbled through him.
You exhaled completely before reaching doing and freeing him, shoving the elastic down. Your inhale, as you'd expected, was so sharp your ribs hurt.
You'd seen his cock three times before now, but not this close. And you swear, even this morning, it hadn't been so engorged-- the puffy red tip wasn't this angry and leaking pre-cum like a steady dripping faucet.
Seonghwa said nothing, just let you admire and explore as you brought up a hand to finally hold it. The feel of it--the velveteen skin, the spongy, resilient shaft, the girth so wide you could just barely get your fingers to close around it--had your core trembling. Your pussy twitched and you could feel your heartbeat in your clit.
When you began to stroke it, dragging a firm grip up and down his length, squeezing at the tip on the way up, he finally broke his silence with a guttural moan.
"Mmh, Y/n," he sighed, dragging a hand through your hair.
The weight of his hand in your strands had you letting out a moan of your own as you finally moved to bring your mouth to meet his dick.
Your tongue carved intricate lines up his length at first, letting your mouth start to fathom just how big he was. A particularly lewd stripe across the tip had him groaning and bucking up into the air, and you finally decided to have mercy on the man.
You took him into your mouth, wrapping your lips around your teeth and trying to relax your throat. You gagged as he hit your uvula but for some reason this seemed to turn you on to no end. He was cock was just so perfect--so fleshy and veiny and long--that you wanted to stuff him as far down your throat as possible, gag reflex be damned.
When you found your physical limit, you let your hand wrap around the small portion you (sadly) couldn't manage to fit in the wet walls of your throat. Tears pricked at your eyes from the stretch in the back of your mouth and how often you had to suppress a cough. You finally moved, letting him thrust shallowly as you found a rhythm.
"You feel so good, baby," Seonghwa grunted as he appeared to turn red from trying to not fuck into your mouth wildly. "Fuck, look at you. Can't even take me all the way and you're crying. So beautiful like this."
His hand carded through your hair while the other turned white from gripping the sheets.
And as you got used to the feeling of his weighty member jammed down your throat, you wanted more. You'd told him exactly what you wanted and you hadn't even realized how literally you'd meant it.
"Seonghwa," you breathed, stopping just a moment and letting your tongue lathe over the tip, lips pecking and sucking at it hungrily while you caught your breath. "I told you. I'm yours. Use me. Please."
The man moaned, his high-pitched whine like heaven to your ears. "Okay, baby, whatever you say. Just tap my thigh if it's too much."
You nodded before taking him back in, heart leaping wildly with anticipation as his hand joined the other, fisting your hair.
As you took him again, breathing through your nose and not gagging as violently when he slid past your uvula, you felt his thrusts turn steadier. Rougher. Faster.
You moaned around him as he began to let go. Your lids struggled to stay open and you let him hold you up by your hair. Your panties were surely soaked through by now, but you refused to check. One hand wrapped firmly around the exposed base of his shaft and the other offered you some semblance of steadiness against his thigh.
"Fucking hell, you love this, don't you?" Seonghwa teased, voice hoarse. You looked up at him through tears and matted, sweat-soaked hair. "All this time and you just wanted to be a little cockslut for me, huh?"
The rush his words gave you was pure ecstasy and you did your best to nod as you moaned around him again in response. The vibration seemed to drive him mad and he tossed his head back before plowing into your mouth over and over.
"I'm gonna cum, Y/n, you're taking me so well," he said. Goosebumps erupted all over your skin. "Where can I cum, baby? Can I--Do you want to swallow? Wanna feel me explode in your mouth?"
You nodded again, tears streaking down your face now from his relentless pace. If you could, you'd want to stay like this forever, with Seonghwa fucking desperately into your mouth like he was stuffing a ragdoll.
For as much as you were supposed to use your autonomous robot, you sure liked it a lot better when he was using you.
Your nails dug into his thigh as he snapped into you and finally his thrusts went ragged. Panting, he called out to the air as he climaxed, "Y/n!" His grunts were light and breathy as he stuttered into your mouth, painting your throat white with synthetic semen.
As he pulled out, you managed to swallow, licking your lips and driving down the liquid with your own spit. You knew it was designed to be tasteless and yet, you swore it tasted faintly of familiar vanilla.
"God, you're just perfect. That was... fucking perfect," Seonghwa proclaimed as he came down, dick softening while he stepped out of his underwear and pants.
Dazed, you were surprised when you felt him suddenly kissing you. His arms wrapped around you, bringing you back up to stand, while his tongue darted around your mouth, tasting himself. You moaned into the sloppy kiss, suckling his bottom lip when you could and tracing his teeth with your tongue when his lips wanted more.
"So, you'll fuck me now?" you asked him hazily when you came up for air, your mind already back on the prize you'd initially set out for.
"Mmmh, soon," he answered vaguely, hands roaming around your skin now, fingers ghosting your straps and elastics. "I want to take my time undressing you. I want to touch you properly... Give you so many orgasms you can't think straight tomorrow."
On the one hand, you knew the slow experience promised to be mind-shattering. You'd die and come back a new woman. But you also just really wanted him inside your aching cunt, fucking you just as hard as he had your mouth--if not even more ruthlessly.
So you whined in response, high and nasally.
Seonghwa stopped, pulling back. You shivered from the loss of contact, about to protest, when you saw his stern gaze.
"You're being so impatient, love," he said, shaking his head. "It just means I'm going to go even slower."
You scoffed in denial but he was already moving, pulling down the sleek pants you'd worn for dinner. You stood in front him in your underwear, a lacy set you may or may not have thought way too long about while getting ready.
He crouched by you, helping you step out of your pants, and stayed kneeling, forehead leaning into your soft thigh. He sighed, one hand coming to stroke languidly across the skin there.
"Let me savor this," he said, deep voice vibrating across your thigh. "Let me savor you."
He didn't need a response, not a verbal one anyway, to start planting kisses on your bare skin, hands traveling up to cup and squeeze your ass. You keened forward, steadying yourself with your hands in his hair.
And then his nose was at the elastic edge of your lace underwear, tip running along the seam like a magnet. He stopped at the bottom, where the plush folds of your labia met and dripped wet with arousal.
You weren't prepared for him to take a long, purposeful whiff, nose pressed into you so hard you were sure it would come back damp.
"You smell so good, baby, so plush and sweet and creamy," he said, voice thundering across your clothed pussy. You shuddered violently, the scene playing out below you somehow more erotic than when he'd been fucking your esophagus silly. "Let me see if it tastes the same" he mused.
Your eyes lost focus as he swiped his tongue along your soaked underwear. Your hands gripped his hair roughly when he used his tongue to part your folds, panties so wet it was hardly challenge for him.
You were sure you were moaning, panting some sort of incoherent dribble at that point, but when the lithe muscle found your clit, you couldn't contain the lewd wails that clawed out of your chest.
"Fuck, Hwa, please," you gasped, hips buzzing with need.
He answered with another lick up your nub through the fabric, followed by his lips sucking a ring around the bundle of nerves. You cried out, bucking into his lips and nose.
"Seonghwa, please," you begged, grabbing at his hair desperately, "I can't take it."
To your horror, this was apparently not the right thing to say. You looked down and saw him smiling sadly, pitifully, up at you.
"Oh, love, I know you can," he said, nipping superficially at the tops of your thighs. "In fact, you're going to cum just like that, with my tongue through your panties."
You whimpered immediately at his words and he got to work just as fast, his tongue finding your clit through the fabric again. You writhed, bucking under his hold, but his fingers were firm around your hips.
It was agony at first, if you were honest. The fabric was too starchy and your arousal hadn't leaked that far up yet. But Seonghwa was impossibly skilled, sliding the slick from your cunt upward with every lick and adding to the moisture with his own dripping tongue.
And then it was bliss--the material just wet enough to strike the perfect balance of friction, his tongue warm and fast and precise.
You were a mess in just minutes, moans dragged out of you by his mouth. It was maddening that he was just using that one muscle. His fingers remained idle on your hips, holding you in place, and his lips only occasionally brushed you. And yet you were fighting against his hold to grind your hips against his tongue, to search for more wetness, more friction, more of him--just more--
And then you were cumming, spilling through your underwear in a way you never had before, soaking them so thoroughly it was obscene. He held you through it, lips sucking in time with you hips, until you stilled.
"You--Do you normally squirt?" Seonghwa asked, voice taught and panting.
Your chest heaved as you looked down to find him covered in slick and sweat and some other clear liquid you'd never seen come out of you before.
"N-No," you answered, feeling a tad lightheaded.
As if he could read your mind, Seonghwa was by your side instantly, helping you lie back in bed. As you got comfortable in the pillows, he peeled your underwear down and off, discarding the drenched fabric onto the floor.
And finally, his mouth was at your chest, trailing kisses from your navel up toward your sternum. You could see how hard he'd gotten again, could feel his cock brush against your legs, and your cunt throbbed with anticipation.
But Seonghwa, true to his word, was hellbent on taking the evening very slowly.
"My beautiful princess," he murmured, kissing the exposed top of your breast. "Squirting for me when I haven't even touched you properly."
One hand found its way under your back, deftly untying the knot you'd put there earlier that afternoon. He clamped the lace fabric between his teeth and tugged slowly downwards, exposing your breasts with a brutal patience.
And when the garment was off, he looked down as if to survey his work, gliding his hands across your skin appreciatively. His fingers found a nipple, working the bud to a hardened point. You exhaled shakily, not sure how long you could keep from begging for him to fuck you.
"One more with my fingers, love," he announced like he was calling you to dinner.
A finger plunged into your folds and you arched into his touch. Your entrance spasmed around the tip of his finger and you let out a groan, low and filthy.
"You're so damn wet for me, baby," he remarked, letting his finger circle your ring of muscle. The motion had you bucking off the bed, desperate for him to be inside you. "Shh, wait, patience. Have you learned nothing, Y/n?"
This got you to be still, the threat of drawing out the process even longer stopping you cold. You shivered at the satisfied laugh that left him when you submitted to his supplication.
"Good girl. Here," he said before plunging his finger in you, a second one following shortly thereafter.
His pace was thankfully faster than if you'd been impatient with him again, that was for sure, and his fingers curled deliciously at the top of his thrusts. You groaned, chanting his name over and over as he worked on you.
Your hands found him, the planes of his muscles and the soft curtain of his hair, desperate for something to cling to. As he tilted his plane of attack upward, insistent on finding that fleshy spot within you, you clung to his arm and neck for stability. His motions quickly had you at the edge of your next climax.
"Hwa, I'm--fuck, right there! You feel so good," you panted.
He looked up at you, finally finding your eyes again after staring at your leaking, swollen pussy for minutes now. "Show me how good it feels, baby. Cum around my fingers like you'd cum around my cock."
His nasty words already had you arching, but suddenly his thumb was on your clit and you were moaning, jetting past a point of no return.
You saw stars as you came, crying out his name as you clenched down on his fingers, trapping them in your walls. He helped you ride through wave after wave, fingers only stilling when your grip relaxed and your hips found the bed again.
"You're crazy, Hwa," you stated, barely having the energy to drag a hand through his hair.
"Mmhmm," he acknowledged. "Crazy for you."
Your heart swelled as he swooped down to capture you in another kiss. This time it was softer, more intentional, like he was giving you a sacred promise. You let him love you with his lips, let him explore your mouth and cheeks, chin, and throat, collarbones and shoulders.
And when your heart was beating normally again, he got on all fours, positioning himself in between your legs.
"Are you ready, love?" he asked.
"Take me, Hwa," you answered, wrapping your legs around his waist. You thought maybe his dirty mouth had rubbed off on you because you found yourself whispering in his ear, "Fuck me so hard San and S/n don't even have to ask if we're together."
He whined and you flushed, loving the way his sounds hit your ears like a melody. He obeyed effortlessly, plunging into you with a careful first thrust.
You were more than prepared when he entered you and the moan that left you when he fit all the way in to the hilt was positively sinful. He had you delightfully full and the stretch was so good the pain doubled instantly as pleasure.
"I love you, Y/n," he stated again before diving down to kiss you again. He thrust in slowly, letting your slick squelch around him obscenely. "I love you for waiting. For setting boundaries and finally trusting me. I wouldn't want to have you any other way."
"I love you, too, Hwa," you echoed, looping your arms around his neck. He sped up incrementally, letting you both adjust to the pace slowly. "I love you for being so patient. For letting me take my time and--ah," you squirmed as he hit that spot within you that had you seeing white, "And for helping me face my f-fears."
He kissed you again, raw and savage. With the shared confession hanging in the air, the atmosphere turned hot and yearning.
"Fuck, Seonghwa," you moaned as he ramped up to full thrusts, balls slapping against your ass with every snap of his hips. "You feel so fucking good!"
"You do, too, love," he answered, already breathless and ragged. "You look so beautiful getting pounded like this. I wanna stuff you full, princess, 'wanna get that reproduction upgrade and give you babies."
The thought of him spilling inside you, of him actually being capable of getting you pregnant, had you spiraling dangerously close to another orgasm.
"Shit, yes, Seonghwa, please, wanna get bred by you, please--" you sobbed out, filter completely absent.
He stopped abruptly and manhandled you again. "All fours," you heard him bark out, voice strained and broken.
You shakily found the mattress on your hands and knees and presented your dripping hole for him nicely, ass in the air.
A hand came down and smacked your ass. You yelped, but it was swallowed by the rush of air you inhaled when another slap came down--this time on your cunt. "So filthy for me," Seonghwa panted. "So naughty. My sweet girl wants to get bred like an animal? I can arrange that just fine."
And then he was fucking into you from behind, hands firmly on your hips dragging you back and forth, impaling you on his rock-hard cock. You could feel how ridiculously hard he was--how thick and angry the tip probably was--how much pre-cum he was probably spilling into you already--and your walls clenched.
"Fuck!" he yelled, hips stuttering. "You like that, princess? Like getting bred like a fucking slut? Like when I fuck you from behind like a beast? Like a machine?"
You slumped into the bed, arms unable to keep yourself supported. Your mind was half gone, breathing hard and limbs gelatinous. All you could do was take the raw battering he was giving you. As you relaxed, drool slipping out of the corner of your mouth as you opened it to moan, the angle changed ever so slightly and your walls flexed as he hammered into your cervix.
At the same time, the angle let his scrotum scrape against your clit with every thrust, and you were moaning and whimpering into your pillows, screaming his name as your third orgasm built with a blooming pleasure.
"That's it, right? Your... cervix?" he asked in between breaths as he thrusted. "Right where I'll cum to fill you full of my kids?"
Your face contorted at his words and your gut flipped with heat. "Fuck! Yes, Hwa, right there!" you screamed out, sure he could hear you through the plush objects with just how loud you were.
And then you were cumming, walls clamping down on his cock so hard you thought you might cramp.
Seonghwa groaned, tossing his head back again as he came, too, filling you with the synthetic seed you suddenly desperately wanted to be real. It was hot inside you, hot enough to feel, and the sensation prolonged your orgasm. You rode wave upon wave, milking the man's cock for everything he had and more.
He shuddered over you when you were finally done, huffing and watching you appreciatively as you both panted for breath.
He turned you over gently and kissed the tip of your nose before pulling out finally. He stood and shook out his limbs, offering you a smile while disappearing into the bathroom. You caught your breath, body seeming to vibrate elatedly.
Seconds later, Seonghwa returned, rag in hand to clean you up. You let him lift your leg up over his shoulder and felt liquid drip out of your used hole.
"If that was real semen, I'd fuck it back into you with my fingers," he said, voice dead serious.
You shuddered under his gaze, half tempted to beg him to do it anyway.
But he dabbed at you with the rag before you could speak, carefully wiping away the warm liquid that spilled from your pussy as he shifted you slightly.
Within minutes, you were clean, dry, and warm against him with the lights off as you finally went to bed, sharing it as more than just friends. Or--at the very least--more than what you had been that morning.
"You were so beautiful today, love," he called out as he tucked you into his chest. "There, that makes seven times today. Better? Or should I call you beautiful even more tomorrow?"
You hummed into his collarbone and ran a hand haphazardly along his neck. "Mmm, more tomorrow," you mumbled as sleep threatened to take you.
"More tomorrow, then. It's a promise," he said. They were the last words you heard him say as you fell asleep in your bed that night.
You dreamed, blissfully, of a life with him. Of a world where your relationship was normal. One where he was not just a house husband, but a real husband.
You woke later, unsure of the time or why you'd been awoken. The sun had yet to rise and you blinked blearily to look around you.
There was a knock at the door.
Beside you, Seonghwa twitched awake. You shared a look of confusion before he went still.
"They're... here," he spoke, voice barely above a whisper.
"What? Who's they?" your brows furrowed as you flicked the lamp on.
The knock came again, this time followed by a muffled voice. You couldn't make out what was said, but Seonghwa surely could.
He jumped out of bed, not bothering to put any more than his sweatpants on.
"Hwa, what's happening?" you asked, heart racing as he flung open the bedroom door.
You grabbed your robe and hastily tied it, running out to follow him toward the front door.
You stopped when you saw that San had also gotten up, but your sister wasn't with them. You were about to ask what was happening when Seonghwa threw open the front door.
"What do you want?" he asked. You stepped up to greet the horde of people in black suits at your door, but Seonghwa was quick to put his arm out. "Don't. They're dangerous. They're--"
"Ma'am, are you Y/n L/n?" the man in front asked. You nodded slowly as he sent a gruff flick of his head to the men standing behind him. Then, suddenly, the men in suits were crossing the threshold and entering your apartment.
Chaos broke out immediately. Seonghwa and San jumped into action to stop the men, but it seemed their objective was subdue the droids anyway.
Your heart stopped as they held Seonghwa's hands together behind his back, forcing him to his knees. You dashed forward, his name on your lips, when two more men were suddenly at your side. They held onto an arm each and you looked up at them with disgust.
"Sorry for the intrusion, Miss L/n. I'm the Vice President of Continuing Autonomous Excellence at KQ Corp. Here's my card," the first man said, showing you his business card. Indeed, it looked like he was a high-ranking executive at the company that manufactured droids like San and Seonghwa.
You struggled against the men holding you again, not liking where this was going.
"I do apologize. There's no need to resist, dear. We'll be out of here before you know it." the man said, his breath as crusty as his aging skin. "You see, we received a tip earlier tonight that a model registered at this address--your house husband here, yes--has expressed emotions and behaviors outside the scope of its intended purpose."
"No," Seonghwa breathed, eyes going wide. You blinked between them, trying to figure out where this was going. But if it was anything like Seonghwa's face warranted, you already knew you didn't want to hear it.
The man continued. "And, what a surprise, the other model we received a tip on is also present! That makes things easy. We're just going to reset them, dear, and add our latest provisional patch to their code. For your security and safety, I assure you."
You froze at his words. "What... what do you mean? Reset? What does the patch do?"
The men in suits had already begun setting up in your kitchen, laptops in briefcases firing up long files of proprietary code.
"Yes, reset. In case you didn't read the fine print of your purchase agreement, all models are subject to factory reset in case of error. It will start his memory over, which can be annoying to retrain, yes, but we believe it's essential for the error that has occurred."
You opened and closed your mouth, fresh tears falling down your cheeks. You locked eyes with Seonghwa who regarded you silently, guilt and sadness overtaking his eyes.
"N-no, you can't," you breathed, pleading with the man in front of you. "You can't reset him. Please. What's the error? What happened?"
"We received an anonymous report that your house husband and this butler model here," he walked over, swiping a ruddy finger at San's nose, "have been going around saying they're in love," he ground out. "Not to mention the acts of violence."
"He--They are!" you protested. "They're in love, they feel it!"
The man shook his head, giving you a knowing, bittersweet look. "Is that what he told you?"
Your heart beat wildly in your chest. You felt like vomiting all over your entryway.
And just when you thought it couldn't get worse, your sister stumbled into the room, rubbing her eyes groggily.
"What's going on?" she asked.
The executive snapped his fingers and two of the men who'd set up camp in your kitchen immediately grabbed her.
"What the fuck? San? Y/n! Seonghwa! What the hell is happening? What--what are they doing to you?" she yelled.
By now, the men holding your droids down gripped a syringe in their hands, ready to sink long needles into their necks.
"No, please! Stop! You can't do this!" you pleaded. "I love him! You can't reset him, please! I need him! Just like he is now, I need him--please--"
You wheezed as the executive nodded and the neon green liquid was plunged into Seonghwa's neck. You folded. The men who'd started the encounter holding you back now had to hold you up.
"Y/n," Seonghwa spoke as the liquid seemed to affect him, eyes fluttering. "No matter what happens, I love you. Never forget that. I love you with everything that I am."
You screamed as hot tears tracked down your cheeks. You flailed in the suited men's grip but it was fruitless. You just let them hold you upright as you fell limp.
Beside you, you could make out San and your sister sharing last promises with each other, their words quieter than your shrieks of agony.
"I love you, too, Seonghwa, I--I'll love you forever," you choked out, hoping he heard you as his eyes closed.
When the droids went still in the men's grip, you bawled. The apartment was otherwise silent as the suits folded up their briefcases, securing their accessories like nothing had happened at all.
And when the men holding you let go, you sank to your knees on the ground. You didn't know what was happening with your sister--all you could focus on was him. Seonghwa. The man you'd entirely forgotten wasn't a man at all.
"Should be just a few minutes. If you experience any further errors, please give us a call," the executive said as the men piled out of your home. You made no move to acknowledge him, and you think he put his business card somewhere near the front door. You didn't know for sure. Certainly didn't care.
You crawled toward your house husband as the door closed. The world around you faded as you inched nearer, taking him into your arms while you waited for whatever the fuck just happened to come to fruition. Tears slipped down your face and onto his still-bare chest. You cried even harder as you took a sleeve from your robe to dab at it.
And finally, as you cradled his face, thumb tracing over the features you'd committed to memory at this point, his eyes opened.
He looked up at you, and as one hand reached for the one that held his face so tenderly, you had hope for all of one second. Then--
"Hello, who will I be attending?"
You curled over his body and sobbed.
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orteil42 · 1 year ago
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Cookie Clicker alpha v7.28 has been pushed to the android appstore!
should roll out for everyone over the next 24 hours! this should be the last patch where i add new stuff, it's hopefully only gonna be bugfixes and tweaks from here on until live release. please let me know if anything feels glitchy or weird!!!
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ozzgin · 2 years ago
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Yandere! Androids Walter & David x Reader x Neomorph
Walter, the android monitoring the colonization ship 'Covenant' on its way to Origae-6, seems to have gotten unnaturally attached to his human assistant. As he ponders his erroneous feelings, an unexpected detour brings them to David, an older android counterpart that has been alone on the mysterious planet. The AI assistants become increasingly competitive for (Y/N)'s attention, so much that they don't notice the newly formed humanoid local preying on a fresh target.
TW: violence, gore, monster smut ending
[Horror Masterlist]
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"Burnt to a crisp." 
You turn away from the captain's pod, leaving the rest of the damage assessment to the medical crew that has been reanimated. You speedily make your way down the sterile white corridors as Walter rushes to catch up. 
"What should I write for the report?" he inquires politely.
"Malfunction." You glance back at the synthetic. "I suspect someone will be fired for this. And someone else will have to explain how they failed to detect a literal star collapse. That neutrino burst could've killed us all."
"Highly probable. The draft has been compiled, you may check it at any time. I require your confirmation to send it."
Your only feedback is a barely audible hum. 
Walter smiles. If there's one good thing about such tragedies, it's that he gets to admire your reactions to them. Your focused, calculated gaze, your determined walk, your automated mannerisms that won't allow the slightest hint at the fact you just woke up from your stasis moments ago. Even under the veils of deep slumber, your neural networks shot rapid connections, with no delay, from the second your sleeping pod received an alert. The accuracy of a robot.
That of course doesn't mean he lacks appreciation for your other facets. That's the beauty of humans; their depth, their dimensions. Unlike AI machinery, humans do not have predetermined actions. They may be genetically programmed to possess certain characteristics, but the psychological mechanisms are shaped by so many variables, billions and billions of tweaks and nudges, to the point where it's impossible to have two identical specimens. Even twins will display a difference, whether in preferences or habits.
They say artificial intelligence is a black box, but can the same concept not be applied to humans as well? At the very least to Walter himself, these organic beings represent a mystery. One he doesn't particularly care to uncover outside of his service functions. Except for one. 
His eyes carefully follow (Y/N)'s movements. What is it about this one that has caught his interest to such degree? On his last system update he attentively inspected every file and every block of code, searching for potential errors that would've caused his circuits to behave so oddly. He has been invested with the ability to form attachments, otherwise assigning his kind to groups or purposes would've lacked stability. Attachment, however, comes with a threshold. One he has passed a long time ago when it comes to (Y/N). And he cannot find any cause for it. 
He could, naturally, solicit the aid of the ship's robotics expert. He could. He should, even. But if he may be frank with himself, Walter rather enjoys this sensation. A complex web of spores that keep growing and evolving into something unpredictable. This bizarre feeling he has towards (Y/N) makes him feel human. It brings him closer to all the old literature and art he'd consumed over the years, wondering what the love and yearning often portrayed could be. The printed letters and the strokes of paint were right before him, at his fingertips, and yet they felt foreign. Empty constructs, nothing more than a definition out of the dictionary. 
Now it's a different story. Your presence alone floods him with a mysterious warmth. He had investigated this phenomenon when it first happened, but his inner thermostat showed no real change in temperature. Nonetheless he can feel it. It makes him wonder what other feelings he might experience as consequence. What would happen if he kissed you? Sometimes he even dares to imagine downright outrageous, improper scenarios. How unprofessional of him, but he is careful to erase any evidence. It's another novel sensation that he likes to dissect. Engaging in such activities with you fills him with tingling excitement. Why is that? What is there to be excited about? It's merely a collection of fictive snippets. Unless... Ah, absolutely not. This is where he has to stop in his tracks and preoccupy himself with something else. Androids are not to interact with humans in that way. 
But it's becoming more and more difficult to keep these ideas in his mind only. 
"It's too dangerous. One human signal in the middle of nowhere?" Daniels, a short haired woman with a tomboyish but youthful appearance, is pacing back and forth. "We should just continue on our course."
"It's our duty to check. Look: we go, find whoever sent the signal, bring them back up. That's it. If the planet proves to be dangerous we'll stop immediately. We'll be fine." Oram stands at the head of the table, arms crossed. He turns to look at you. Already cozying up to his newly acquired captain role, you think.
"Alright. Walter, prepare a small landing party. Have Tennessee maintain orbit while we're down there." you glance at the other crew members that have now gathered around the same table. "And get your weapons ready, we don't know what to expect."
And you certainly didn't. Your final words of warning now echo into your ringing ears as you lay on the ground, face buried among the grass. There's screaming around you, but it sounds muffled. Your eyes are irritated by the dirt and you'd like to blink the grime off, though every time your eyelids lower, you can see the pale creature trashing out of Hallett's mouth. Then it's all foggy. Your vision blurs, but you can hear. The gurgling of blood, the screech of the parasite. Walter's frantic footsteps nearing in your direction. You're lifted up.
"Vitals are positive. No significant damage." 
You can guess from your peripherals that another crew member is currently being mauled by the beast. There's gunshots in your vicinity and terrified wails. You quickly come back to your senses and stand up. Your hand searches for your weapon, but the android places his arm before you.
"Do not engage, (Y/N). It is an unknown parasitic organism of this ecosystem. Keep your distance for optimal safety and I'll take care of the rest."
"What are you talking about? They're dying! Your task is to ensure human survival, Walter. I can handle myself, go help the others. It's an order." Your voice is low. You're distracted.
"No."
You stare at the synthetic, wide eyed. Did he just...refuse? Not possible. 
"What did you say?"
"I said I'll protect you. Nothing else."
Your mouth is slightly parted in disbelief. It is not possible for an artificial assistant to disobey a superior. It just doesn't work. Your mind races to find an explanation. At the same time, you cannot afford to ponder on hypotheses. You draw out your weapon and point it towards the creature. You'll deal with this later. 
The moment you press the trigger, a blinding flash of light detonates in the sky, startling you. The creature scrambles to get away. You squint your eyes and nearly fall back, but Walter swiftly grabs your shoulders to ground you. He scans the area for the source. It's an emergency rocket and someone else must've activated it. As he traces the tail of the explosion, he spots a hooded figure across the field and onto the rocky ascend. It seems to have noticed Walter, as it gestures for them to follow. Without hesitation, the man firmly locks your arm and pulls you after him. The priority right now is to find shelter.
"Come!", Walter exclaims, suddenly remembering the other people. 
You reach a cave structure that has been converted into a crude, improvised human settlement. The man lowers his hood and you gasp quietly at the sight. He strongly resembles Walter. He must have noticed your surprise as he flashes you a cordial smile. 
"I'm David." He studies Walter's features. "You must be a newer model. What name have you been given?"
"Walter."
"I see. And you are-" David extends a hand towards you for a handshake, but Walter steps in front of you, blocking the android's gesture.
"She's (Y/N). I'm afraid I cannot yet trust you."
"Understandable." 
David's smile widens as his eyes, now bearing a strange flicker, switch between you and Walter. He's just like him. He can sense it. Although it's a different kind of flaw that has tainted his pure, artificial soul. He cannot help the curiosity that blooms, gazing at this peculiar pair. What is it about this human that caused his fellow machine to break conduit? He'd like to know.
"I'm certain you will soon learn I am no threat, (Y/N)."
The remaining members of the expedition are unpacking and discussing evacuation plans with the base, while Walter sends the data he has gathered so far. You let them deal with the logistics and cautiously wander off to the neighboring rooms, wondering what David has been up to all this time in isolation.
The walls are plastered with photos and handwritten sketches and diagrams. You catch a glimpse of the word "pathogen" sporadically inserted across these notes. As you walk along the sequence of cramped chambers, you reach one that has a table in the middle. Upon it rests the body of an autopsied woman, vulgarly opened up to the world with plump organs bulging under the warm light. You feel nauseous. And yet, you examine the carcass further, hoping for answers. Was she also a result of the same disease that breeds on this planet? Perhaps this David had worked on a cure, or at least developed an explanation. 
"And you, even you, will be like this drear thing, A vile infection man may not endure; Star that I yearn to! Sun that lights my spring! O passionate and pure."
You jolt and immediately turn around, finding David in the doorframe. 
"Flowers of Evil. Are you familiar with it?" he asks, indifferent to the uncomfortable shock he'd caused you with his sudden entrance.
"I've read my Baudelaire, yes." You manage to mumble, dumbfounded. "What is this, David?"
"Oh, my poor, dear Elizabeth. Victim to whatever blasphemy lurks these soils and has taken your friends as well." He approaches the table and places his hand on its hard edge, shyly overlapping with your own fingers. "I did my best." 
You remove your hand from underneath his nonchalantly. 
"So you know what those creatures are. Leave the literary comments for a different time, I need concrete facts."
"Unbothered and to the point." the blonde android smiles once again. "I can see clearly why Walter loves you."
You click your tongue at the ridiculous statement. Has the neutrino burst damaged their positronic brain? Everyone is acting off and you don't like it. 
"Your circuits must have gone defective, David. We have a specialist on our ship, but until that happens I need you to focus. Enough nonsense." 
 "Typical arrogance of a dying species. Why are you on a colonization mission if not to grasp at some promised resurrection? Rest assured that my functioning has not been impeded by anything. What is erroneous, on the other hand, is your perception of androids and their limits."
Just as David reaches for your wrist and pulls you closer, a familiar voice interrupts with an intimidating tone. You're relieved. 
"I will ask that you release her hand only once." Walter has a weapon pointed towards his counterpart. His face is clouded by a frown. "I have no ethical restrictions when it comes to incapacitating machinery."
"Such noble obedience! Although, you conveniently left out the part where you abandoned the remaining crew with a dangerous alien that has been tracking their scent. By my approximation he should already be here and I am rather confident you know this, too."
Your stomach drops. Now that you adjust your focus, the background humming of your mates talking has indeed vanished. The only thing you can hear is your erratic breathing.
"Is it true, Walter?" You demand as dread begins to form in your body.
"Yes. It was not part of my priorities."
"Of course it was, Walter." David responds ahead of you. "One of them was the acting captain and he is to be rescued in emergencies. This one right here", he says as he dangles your wrist, "is several ranks lower than all of them. It's against any standard practice."
"Release her hand." Walter's voice is eerily calm.
"Do you love her?"
Walter ponders the question. Your legs barely hold on.
"I do."
"Marvelous. So do I." David grins. He releases your hand that falls limp next to your body. It's his turn to step in front of you. 
You nearly choke from the thick tension expanding in the air. The two androids face each other and you retreat to the wall, unsure how to proceed. You left your radio transmitter back at the makeshift camp. The back of your head is itching, as if invisible claws are scratching at the bone. You wish you could go back, just mere hours before this disaster, when you were sipping on your lukewarm coffee and explaining the captain's jokes to Walter. 
Should you make a run for it?
You bite your lower lip and push yourself off the wall for momentum. You're about to reach the archway when you hear both men shouting almost identically in chorus.
"Don't!"
The surroundings outside are dark, but you can discern something blocking your path. It's tall and resembles a human. Translucent, pallid skin is clinging onto the massive, deformed skeleton. The head is elongated and bears no features. In the place of a mouth there is a large, fresh stain of blood, so you assume it can somehow improvise if desired. As your head tilts back to take in the image, you're overwhelmed with terrified amazement. Is this the parasite that emerged from your teammate? Has it grown to this colossal size in less than a day? The idea of such instant development makes your head spin. 
Its chest is expanding at regular intervals in a whistled breathing. It occasionally creates an odd clicking sound that resonates with your heart throbbing in panic. Has it been seconds? Minutes? Your neck creaks as you try to look back. You lock eyes with Walter. You don't recall ever seeing this expression on him. You had even asked him once if androids can feel fear. You have your answer.
"Hey, Walter..." you blurt out. 
Wet noises of flesh being pulled back. The smooth surface of the alien's head is folding away, making space for grotesquely big jaws lined with sharp teeth. Your anemic face is splattered with burning drool as the creature claws you in its grasp and abruptly sprints away. Your screams for help dissolve in the distance.
"Where is it going, David?" The synthetic's words are threatening, but betrayed by a hint of despair. 
"It won't kill her."
"How do you know?"
"It is no longer hungry. It has fed on your crew, and now it seeks something else."
"Such as?" Walter becomes impatient.
"A plaything."
The alien finally drops your body to the ground. You cough and wipe your face, attempting to reorient yourself. The trip was a whirlwind of jumps and turns and you can barely reconstruct anything. Based on the little spatial clues you could pick up, it just climbed further up, into one of the many cave systems. You pat your clothing and curse to yourself. The geolocation tag must've fallen somewhere on the way here. You can only pray that Walter still finds you somehow. Despite everything, you know he has your back. Always. 
You shudder at the moist feeling of hot air against your skin. The alien seems to be sniffing you intently, analyzing your scent. Yet so far it hasn't killed you. Why? Long, bony fingers stretch out to continue the examination. You whimper at the rough, rugged handling. Every now and then it takes a long pause, just staring at you, almost as if it's comparing you to its own being. Lastly, it lifts your hand with its own, pressing against the palm, and fans out the fingers. It observes the gesture with intrigue, noting the similarities. 
Does it evolve after its host? You think back to your crewmate that must've ejected this monstrosity before drawing their last breath. Perhaps the dried up blood adorning its skin is a remainder of its birth. Oh, God. The world is spinning.
Suddenly, you wince at an increasing pressure slithering around your thigh. The alien's vertebral tail is tightening and encircling your limb, making its way up. 
"Oh no, no no no no" your face reddens at the realization and you pounce on the ground, feverish for escape. The large hands secure you in place and the creature growls in protest. It won't let you leave. 
Not until it had its fun with you.
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changes · 1 year ago
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Friday, January 26th, 2024
🌟 New
On web, we added “View previous reblog” to the post meatball menu. Find it by clicking the three horizontal dots in the top-right corner of a post!
We also tidied up some of the other items in the post meatball menu on web, while we were there. The ordering of some items were adjusted, and “Subscribe to conversation” is now called “Follow post”.
On Android, “View previous reblog” is now in the meatball menu of reblogs for all users on the latest version of the app.
To comply with the European Union’s Digital Services Act (DSA), you can now mark a post as containing commercial content, which simply adds a “Commercial Content” banner to the post and does not affect your post’s visibility or ranking on Tumblr.
🛠 Fixed
Users can no longer send asks to blogs that have blocked them, or that they have blocked.
On web, the blog selector in the post editor would incorrectly appear on top of the text format bar. This is now fixed.
On web, the settings page for your blog (tumblr.com/settings/blog/blogname) used to show the account settings menu in the right-hand sidebar. We updated this area to show the blog sidebar instead (Posts, Drafts, Queue, etc).
We made some tweaks which should fix that specific problem where you see a non-zero unread count on your inbox, and so you click into your inbox only to find nothing there. Let us know if you continue to encounter that issue.
🚧 Ongoing
On Android, a small number of users were unable to access their messages on app version 32.9. This issue will be fixed in the next app version (33.0).
We’re still working to fix an issue in the iOS app that’s preventing folks from editing draft posts.
🌱 Upcoming
We just wrapped up another Hack Week, where we got to build whatever cool feature we wanted! Follow @engineering to see what we made 👀
Experiencing an issue? File a Support Request and we’ll get back to you as soon as we can!
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