#Foundation Packaging Boxes
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packagingminesusa · 26 days ago
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https://packagingmines.com/news/where-beauty-begins-cosmetic-packaging-boxes
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verdancepackaging · 2 months ago
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Flawless First Impressions Start with Stunning Packaging
Your face foundation deserves packaging that reflects quality, elegance, and purpose. Our custom-designed face foundation boxes aren't just containers but powerful brand storytellers. With sleek finishes, premium textures, and designs tailored to your brand's identity, these boxes captivate at first glance. Whether displayed on a shelf or shipped to a customer, they enhance the unboxing experience and leave a lasting impression. Add features like embossing, foil stamping, and custom inserts for a touch of luxury that sets your product apart. Because first impressions matter – make yours unforgettable.
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productpackagingsblog · 2 years ago
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What Are the Latest Design Trends in Custom Foundation Boxes
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In a world where first impressions matter more than ever, the cosmetics industry has evolved to recognize the profound significance of packaging. As we dive into this blog post, we’ll explore the exciting world of custom foundation boxes and the latest design trends redefining the cosmetics packaging landscape.
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customboxesworldsblog · 2 years ago
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custom packaging boxes for foundation
Custom foundation boxes are not merely about aesthetics; they are also engineered to protect and preserve the quality of the makeup product. These boxes are designed to shield foundations from external elements, ensuring they reach customers in pristine condition. We are offering custom lip gloss boxes at wholesale with free shipping. The design is also free. Boxes are delivered in quick time. Must visit us to get more detail. Visit:https://customboxesworld.co.uk/foundation-packaging-boxes-uk
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muwapsturniolo · 5 months ago
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Nipple or Tip ( • )( • ) C. Sturniolo
"I also saw one of those weird makeup hacks-"
⟢ funny shit tbh. nipples and tips of dick are mentioned as well as balls. chris being unhinged in ulta, reader done with his bs but also down with his bs.
dividers by the one and only rose toy @bernardsbendystraws
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You were a beauty lover, it was well known by everyone in your life. When you were a kid, you were constantly in your moms makeup bag, messing up her high-priced lipsticks and eyeshadows on a daily basis.
As you got older, that love for makeup stayed.
You had a whole beauty room in your two-bedroom apartment. You had the vanity, the box lights as well as ring lights, and drawers on top of drawers filled with makeup you may not even have a chance to touch.
Chris knew of your love for makeup, he has been in you're beauty room one too many times to think otherwise. He never saw it as too much because he knew it was your way of expressing yourself - he was never the one to hate on expression.
So here he was, driving you to the place he should just invest in at this point.
Ulta.
You spent so much time there, that the workers recognize you. You have the credit card, you've racked up points, and you memorized the aisles. This was basically your third home, the first being your own and the second being Chris's.
"Alright, what do you need today?"
You proceed to go through your list as you walk inside the bright store, the sound of Billie's "Birds of a Feather" playing over the speakers. The song distracts him for a moment, but he comes back to reality hearing you say foundation.
"Wait, didn't you just get a new foundation?"
"Well...Yes, but I need another one!" He gives you a look as the two of you walk over to Wyn Beauty. "Technically, you don't need another one. You have about forty of them, but who am I to complain considering you're paying?"
It's comical to him the way you stop in your tracks, your eyes widening in disbelief. "What do you mean I'm paying? It's your turn to pay!"
Chris chuckles to himself, fixing the beanie on his head. "I'm just pulling your clit."
"Chris please stop fuckin' talking to me. That's not even how the damn saying goes!"
He giggles like a schoolboy and kisses your shoulder, motioning to the bright green packaging in front of you. "Go ahead and pick out your millionth foundation."
And so you do, you pick out a new foundation...and concealer, primer, setting spray, bronzer, lip gloss, and lipstick.
"Ok, now a lip liner." Your words spark Chris's interest, his mind going back to a specific video he saw not too long ago. The two of you start walking over to NYX, and he decides to fill you in on the content he consumed.
"So like, I saw this makeup video on tik- Why are you getting makeup videos on TikTok? What girl are you sending them to?"
"I'm getting them because of you, dumbass. You're the only girl that actually puts up with me, why would I talk to another one?" You snicker to yourself knowing he's right.
He's too in love with you to go find someone else.
"Anyway, like I was saying. I saw this video on TikTok where this girl was trying out these makeup hacks or secrets, whatever it's called. So she said the best way to match your lip liner is to match it to your nipples! Crazy shit, but it has me thinking, what if you matched it to the tip of my dick?"
All you could do was stare at him in silence.
"You being deadass?"
He shrugs before answering you, a smirk that shows he's up to no good making its way onto his face. "I mean, I think it would look nice on you. A nice pinky red....It's up your alley anyway considering you have a blush named 'orgasm' and a mascara called 'better than sex' ."
"Didn't I tell you to stop talking to me?" He groans and pulls you closer, his hands settling right on top of your ass. "Come on it would be funny! I will literally give you my card and let you roam in TJ Maxx and I will take you to Chili's!''
"You had me at TJ Maxx."
You whip your phone out, thanking yourself for buying a privacy screen, and begin scrolling through your privet photo albums to find a picture of Chris's dick.
"Wait, you should match one to your nipples too. Then we can compare which one looks better."
He could be so childish at times, but you were the exact same.
The two of you stand in the aisle, holding up different shades of pink and brown to your phone. Eventually, you two settle on "Rose" and "Nutmeg", the two colors being the closest you could get.
Soon the two of you are back in the car and Chris is urging you to try on both lip liners, refusing to drive until he sees them on you. You first try on the brown shade, lining your lips with ease. It was a pretty color, simple and not unusual considering you always wore brown lipliner.
You turn to Chris, asking him what he thinks. "Sexy as usual. You know I like it when you do the brown ones." You smile at his flattering words, giving him a quick peck on the lips before wiping the lip liner off. You unravel the pink liner and swipe it on, rubbing your lips together so it blends out.
"So what do we think? Nipple or tip?"
You see the way his eyes dart across your face, analyzing everything about you.
"Both look good, you know you can make everything look good. It's what I love about you." You find your cheeks getting warm, never getting used to the way he makes you feel so good, even on days when you look like a bum.
"Come on, I promised to let you roam in TJ Maxx." He puts the car in reverse and begins driving towards the retail store. The drive is quiet for the most part, nothing but music and the occasional small talk. As soon as the two of you make it to TJ Maxx, Chris turns to you before getting out of the car.
"You know, I also saw one of those weird makeup hacks where this girl put her foundation on with her boyfriend's balls."
"This the last time imma tell you to shut up talkin' to me!"
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noljabae · 12 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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phoenixyfriend · 5 months ago
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I have a life tip for you guys, which is probably self-evident if you think about it, and you may already be doing it, and it does admittedly fall into the general life advice that is 'reuse the boxes that things come to you in.' But. I consider it very helpful.
If you like Ferrero Rocher, and you like makeup, or things shaped like makeup, then:
Go to CVS or whatever your equivalent is. Buy a package of Ferrero Rocher as you normally would (if you would in fact normally buy them).
Do not get the big flat package. Do not get a small package. Get one of these:
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(16ct is always available, 30ct is a Christmas special)
Eat them, or share them, whatever; you are probably getting more bang for your buck than you would with a small pack anyway, so that's nice. After you remove the wrapping, you can get rid of the remaining gold paint with rubbing alcohol.
These are a good height to store lipsticks. I'd go with the 16ct
The 30ct can fit those long eye-shadow palettes from Rimmel, and most of the quads you can get at a drugstore. They are both a good size for most foundations, concealers, primers, general squeeze tubes, eyeliners, lip-liners, and so on. They are more than wide enough to stack the single-pan highlighters, bronzers, and blushes.
You are going to end up with plastic packaging any time you purchase these chocolates (and I buy a lot of chocolate), but trust me that these boxes are so good to reuse.
Makeup obviously isn't the only thing that you can store (the 16ct would be great for packs of playing cards, if you collect those), but it's definitely been the most convenient thing I can do with these. I don't like throwing things out, and these boxes are such a good size and shape for things that are makeup sized.
(Long version with examples)
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starsinthesky5 · 2 months ago
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I've been watching videos of Taylor at the children's Hospital from last year and all I'm thinking about is songbird doing that in a Cincinatti hospital and it being so sweet. She's the first lady of Cincinatti your honour
a/n: this might have been one of my favorite things to write out. this concept is so :(
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she's is absolutely serious about her charity work and philanthropy. giving back to her community is one of the most important things to her, especially now that she’s in a position to do something about the causes she’s always cared about. she doesn’t just post the links or sign the checks—she shows up, rolls her sleeves up, and works.
she’s deeply involved in youth mental health advocacy—funding school programs, hosting quiet music therapy sessions, personally partnering with child psychologists to create resources for kids navigating grief, anxiety, or trauma. she’s a soft place for so many to land. the kind of person who will read through every letter sent to her team from a worried parent or a hurting teen, and figure out a way to respond, to help.
and food insecurity? that’s close to home for both her and joe. they’ve seen what hunger does to a family. they remember. and she and joe put real money and heart into community food banks, his foundation, student lunch programs, meal kits for families during the holidays—always quietly, always intentionally.
her name's on programs and articles now, sure. but it’s also on the mouths of the kids at the shelters who light up when she walks in.
because she goes. regularly.
like to the children’s hospital in cincinnati—where the nurses and staff just smile when they see her name on the visitor log. she usually shows up in a soft cardigan, no makeup, her hair up with a bow. guitar case over her shoulder, tote bag full of handmade care packages in hand. she brings notes for the parents, bracelets and stickers for the kids, books for the rooms.
and it’s not a media event. it’s never performative. no press, no announcements. she doesn’t let her team record it. the only footage that exists is a few grainy phone videos from starstruck nurses or overwhelmed parents who post about how kind she was, how she remembered their kid’s name weeks later, how she sang lullabies to the babies in the NICU.
she sings for them, but more importantly—she sits with them. cross-legged on the floor beside hospital beds. reading storybooks aloud with funny voices. letting a five-year-old decorate her face with butterfly stickers. holding hands with a scared teenager and asking, what’s your favorite song right now?
sometimes when she’s at the hospital, the kids ask her about joe in the shy, giggly way kids do—“is he really your boyfriend?” or “he’s my favorite quarterback ever!” and she just beams, leans in like she’s telling them a secret, and says, “mine too,”. they light up when she pulls up a silly picture of him in her phone—usually something where he’s got bedhead or a grumpy face—and they all giggle together like it’s the funniest thing in the world. one little boy once asked if joe could come visit too, and when she said maybe next time, he asked if joe liked fruit snacks, so he could save him some. she texted joe immediately. he showed up two days later with a whole box.
speaking of, when joe comes with her? it's so special.
he doesn’t like attention. but he loves her. and she’s the one who got him to be more hands-on with his foundation in the first place. more than just a name or a face—she inspired him to show up. to go to the shelters. to play catch with the kids from the food programs. to give the teens at the mental health center someone who listens, not just someone who donates.
when they go together, it’s not a spectacle. joe’s quiet in the background—handing out juice boxes, playing uno, helping a little kid build a lego castle while she sings a lullaby across the room. they leave with drawings tucked into her tote bag and little friendship bracelets on both their wrists.
and yeah, cincinnati knows.
they call her the first lady of the city with so much love it doesn’t even feel like a nickname—it feels true. like she’s theirs, and they’re hers. and joe? joe just grins when people say it. because she wears that title so naturally, so gracefully, like she was always meant to.
because even with all the fame, the shows, the stadiums full of people screaming her lyrics. this is who she is. someone who shows up. someone who gives. someone who cares.
and she brings him with her. and teaches him how to care even louder.
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packagingminesusa · 28 days ago
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stardustspell · 6 months ago
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LA DISASTER RELIEF LINKS INCOMING!
As someone who used to live in Los Angeles, seeing footage of the devastation happening in the city is extremely heartbreaking. So many have lost their homes and still face extreme peril, including many of my dear friends.
Here's a list of organizations with boots on the ground you can contribute to if you want to help.
Donate to The Red Cross
Donate to LA Food Bank
If you're in the affected areas, consider donating the following to your local The Salvation Army:
Bandanas, work gloves, and other protective clothing items
Bottled water and other packaged drinks
Boxes, barrels, and heavy-duty plastic bags (for survivors to collect their possessions)
Cleaning items such as rags, mops, brooms, and scrub brushes
Device chargers First aid kits
Flashlights and batteries
Gently used or new work boots or rain boots
Hygiene items including soap, detergent, disinfectant, garbage bags, and hand sanitizer
Infant care items such as formula, diapers, and rash cream
Linens such as bedding and pillows
New undergarments such as underwear or socks
Nonperishable, packaged food items and snacks
PPE, including dust masks
Protective equipment such as work gloves, boots, helmets, and masks
Rebuilding supplies, including plastic tarps, nails, plywood, and hand tools
Toys and books to entertain children
Utility tools such as plastic buckets, shovels, and rakes
Donate to Direct Relief which provides supplies to healthcare providers and first responders in wildfire affected communities.
Donate to the Los Angeles Fire Department Foundation
Donate to World Central Kitchen
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tarotwithavi · 2 years ago
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What kind of lovers do you attract/ are attracting?
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How to choose a pile?
Take a deep breath and gently close your eyes. Politely request your spirit guides to reveal the appropriate pile meant for you, then open your eyes. Whichever pile captures your attention is the one meant for you.
Masterlist
Paid services
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Pile 1
Your energy has this amazing superpower to heal, like a magic balm for broken hearts. It's no wonder people are drawn to you like bees to honey. You're like a walking oasis of comfort for those who've had their share of love's bumps and bruises. Those you attract are the creative types, the ones who think outside the box and color outside the lines. You've got this magnetic pull for guitar-strumming, canvas-painting, poem-writing folks. You know, those artsy souls who've often danced with heartache. It's like your aura says, "Hey, bring on the creatives!" Your magnetism doesn't stop at artists. Nope, it goes all the way to the bank, you attract some deep-pocketed darlings. Money? Not an issue for them, they've got it going on. And oh boy, strength? Both mental and physical? It's like you've got this fiery aura that's a total strength magnet. And hold onto your hats because popularity is part of your package deal. You snag the ones who are well-liked, the ones everyone wants to hang around. It's like you've got this neon "cool people only" sign that shines super bright. The people you draw in might be total opposites of you. I know, wild, right? But hey, life's all about surprises.
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Pile 2
So, this is my personal pile of hopeless romantics. Get ready, because the lovers you're pulling in? They're just like you. You're like a magnet for those total dreamers, the ones who see love as this magical, larger-than-life adventure. You know those who could fall in love with the idea of falling in love. Yep, that's who's knocking on your heart's door. You're also attracting a bunch of daydreamers , those people who view love through these super rosy glasses. It's like they're lost in this fairytale, and they're looking for their partner to be the co-star in their romantic movie of life. And guess what? Your energy is like a beacon for the brainiacs too. You're snagging those who are smart, logical, and always ready with a dose of sensible advice. They're a blend of both worlds. It's like they've got this epic tug-of-war between their dreamy side and their practical side, and you're right in the middle of that sweet balance. They might not be super experienced in the love department. It's like they're all about that puppy love, that innocent and genuine kind of affection. So, whether you're nodding your head like, "Yeah, that's me," or you're like, "Wait, what?" this is your magnetic vibe.
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Pile 3
You've got this power to pull in super dedicated lovers. They're the ones who are all about their hustle, totally work-oriented, and maybe even more focused on their projects than on matters of the heart. But hold on tight, because you've also got a thing for those who date with marriage in mind. No casual hookups for you , it's all about those who are in it for the long haul. Now, let's talk about down-to-earth vibes. The ones you attract, They're as grounded as a sturdy oak tree. It's like they've got their feet planted firmly on the ground, which makes for a really solid connection. And speaking of connections, you're kind of a magnet for the old-school romantics. Yep, you're attracting those who've got a dash of old-fashioned love in their style. It's like they're straight out of a vintage love story. The lovers you're drawing in are all about stability and commitment. Heartbreak? Not on their agenda. These are the ones who are ready for the real deal, a relationship with a rock-solid foundation. So, if you've been worried about love's rollercoaster, fret not. Your vibe is all about that steady, unshakeable connection.
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kigieri · 8 months ago
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Turbulence
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The Danny Ric Series🍯🦡
Daniel Ricciardo × Reader
Trying to get pregnant can be a beautiful journey, full of delight and happiness, or it can be a sorrowful venture, full of despair and self-loathing, as it goes on and on and on.
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A/N: Welcome! I hope you enjoy The Danny Ric Series. It is dedicated to the wonderful man that brought so much joy to Formula One and its fans.
This is my longest fic to date, and I'm very proud of it! Getting pregnant can take a long time, sometimes up to, or over a decade. It's a journey that can look very different from person to person. I wanted to showcase this a little bit. I have no idea about IVF or adoption in Monaco or Australia, so I held the topic very brief.
This story on AO3.
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Standing in front of the bathroom cabinet, she looked at the multiple packages of pregnancy tests. Footsteps could be heard, before Daniel stepped into the room. He slipped his arms around her waist from behind her back, kissing her neck lightly. "So, do you want to take one?" She smiled. "I'm not pregnant yet." He nodded, searching for her eyes in their reflection. "Yes, but I know you want to take one and we better make sure. We'll have to try extra hard if you aren't." A light red flushed her face and she grabbed behind herself to pinch Daniel. "You're unbelievable!" Laughter filled the air between them.
She picked one up and opened it, taking the content out of the box before placing it on the rim of the sink. "Let's do it." Daniel took the test from her and took a step back, while she read over the instructions. "Just normal procedure." He looked at her, slightly confused. "Uhm... And what's normal procedure?" Her eyes found his as she turned and looked up. "You... you've never heard how to take a pregnancy test?" He shook his head. "Where should I have gotten that information? We were always careful, there was never a scare, so I've got no idea." She shook her head in disbelieve. "Men. This is just..." She waved the description around. "It's just something you know."
The Aussie shrugged his shoulders. "You pee on it, wait a bit and if it's two lines we weren't as careful as we thought, right?" She rolled her eyes. "That's about right." A big smile took over his face and he stepped towards her, pulling her towards himself by the waist. He kissed her briefly. "Just take one, okay? To mark the beginning of the journey?" She nodded and kissed him again. "Gladly."
Twenty minutes and a lot of banter later, they were looking at a negative test. Their breath slightly faster from a short make-out session. While she carefully put away the test and washed her hands, he could not look away. "I love you." She turned towards him, a towel in her hands to dry them off. "I love you too." His smile was intoxicating and, after she had hung up the towel, she walked over to him.
"I cannot wait to start a family with you." His words were breathy, genuine and filled with emotions. "We've waited long enough, haven't we?" Daniel nodded, taking her into his arms once more. "It was worth it. I want it. We're happy, married," his hand reached for hers to stroke over their wedding band, "and we're more than ready." Her head rested against his chest. He continued, "The moment I will hold our child in my arms will be the happiest of my life, right before meeting and marrying you."
***
Two months had passed since that first test, and her circle had continued. Her period came just as regularly as before. She was sitting on their hotel bed after a race. She had left before Daniel, he had still been in a meeting and wanted to sign a few autographs afterwards. Her hands were occupied with taking out her earrings, she had already taken off the slight make-up she had put on that morning.
A little while later, while slipping out of her blouse, she looked at a hickey Daniel had left a few nights prior. It fell just below her neckline, so she had not needed to cover it with foundation. Her thoughts drifted to the week ahead, while she grabbed her pajama and walked into the bathroom. They had told her parents that they were trying for a child. Some people might find it peculiar, since it was intimate information, but she thought it was wonderful to include their families. After the next race, they would return to Perth, and they planned to inform Daniel's family as well.
After a quick shower, she laid down in bed, opening her book and starting to read. She tried to stay awake, wanting to greet her lover when he returned from the circuit. She had just finished a chapter when the lock gave off a beeping noise. Daniel entered silently, and a smile spread over his face when he saw she was still awake. He walked in and placed his backpack and keycard on the table, before walking over to the bed and leaning down to give her a quick kiss. "It's late. You should have gone to bed." She reached her hand up to stroke over his beard. "I wanted to greet you and give you a chance to talk." He nodded while stepping back and beginning to strip. "Thank you." He motioned towards the bathroom. "I'll take a quick shower first." And with those words he was already inside and the door fell shut behind him.
The shower could be heard in the bedroom, and she waited for it to stop before standing up and taking a fresh pair of boxers out of the closet. She opened the door slowly, the steam escaping the room hitting her nonetheless. Daniel was drying himself off as she held out the clothing to him. He smiled at her and took it. "Thanks. Forgot those." A slightly amused sound left her mouth. "Wasn't the first time, won't be the last one." He shook his head. "Nah."
Silence fell between them as Daniel got ready, and she sat down on the side of the bathtub. After brushing his teeth and washing his face, Daniel's attention was caught by something on the little rack next to the toilet. "You got your period?" She nodded. "Yesterday evening. Didn't want to tell you before the race." He turned around. "No problem, you tell me whatever, whenever." A slight smile painted his lips. She stood up again. "Bed?" The Aussie nodded. "Let's go to bed. I'm dead on my feet."
They turned off the lights and slipped under the cover. Normally they slept without touching, they cuddled to fall asleep but turned away during the night, needing space to move. This night, however, Daniel's arm remained wrapped around her belly as they both dreamed about the small little family they were going to create.
***
Morning had creeped in some time ago, and they had enjoyed a quiet breakfast. The end of the season had come faster than either of them anticipated, but they were happy nonetheless. A little free time for themselves before it all began again. Daniel had started doing the dishes. He enjoyed the mundane tasks without pressure or an event in his neck.
The bathroom door had been closed for some time when he finally walked by it. He had wanted to check on her before going out to work on one of the dirt bikes that was making trouble. He knocked lightly, his knuckles barely hitting the wood. "Come in." Her voice was meek and brittle. The door creaked just a bit while he pushed it open, he wanted to fix that this break too. She was sitting on the closed toilet lid when he entered. Her vision was blurry when she looked up at him, her eyes tearful and puffy. Her cheeks were red, and her lower lip wobbled. She held out the pregnancy test silently, Daniel did not need to look at it to know the result.
He kneeled down in front of her, laying the test next to his legs on the ground. He also felt like crying, but right now he needed to be there for her. He cupped her face in his hands and brushed her tears away. "It will come. I hate it too, but it takes time. We've been trying for over half a year, but a lot of children have taken longer. It is normal." The nod she gave was barely noticeable. He leaned up a bit, and took her into his arms. "It will come. I know that, and you know that, and the waiting is painful... fuck." His own vision was turning blurry. "But that'll make it so much sweeter when they're here, okay?" She nodded into his neck, even though she was hardly convinced. His words filled her heart with warmth nonetheless.
Her arms encircled his shoulders. "I love you and I just want to be pregnant. Just have them here." Daniel nodded. "I understand." She stroked his neck and hairline. "I know it's hard for you too. You'll talk to me about it, right?" He nodded again. "I will. I promise. It's hard for me, too." A watery giggle left her mouth. "We'll do this together." He leaned back enough to look into her face. "It'll be really hard for you to get pregnant alone, I would think." A lough bubbled out of her, and Daniel released a breath he had been holding. There was much to be talked about, but she was smiling again.
***
A baby shower was not something she wished to attend at the moment, but she pushed her own feelings to the back of her head and tried to be as happy as possible for her friend. Both her and Daniel had been invited. He, however, had a race coming up and was already halfway around the globe.
The night before leaving, laying behind her, with one hand splayed across her stomach, he had whispered that she did not need to go. Not alone and not ever if she did not want to. She had shaken her head. Their journey may be harder, but she still wished to enjoy the happiness of others.
Now she was tying a small bow around the present. She had abstained from using wrapping paper or glitter, only a few stickers and a bow. The aftermath of today's party would be enough to clean up, even without all the presents that had to be opened.
She looked over at the magnetic board that they used instead of a pinboard. There, next to a neat and minimalistic invitation, hung the small ultrasound picture that had come with it. She had caught Daniel the evening it arrived, sitting at the dining table and staring at the little one. She had swallowed and walked by, not knowing how to approach him at that moment. After she had finished emptying the dishwasher, and before going to sleep, she had done the same. While looking at it she had cried, as silently as she could muster, but she was sure he had heard her anyway.
They had lain in bed that night, a space where a lot of their conversation about children now happened. He had spooned her once more, neither being able to look into the other's face. Daniel had started with small stories from his childhood, about his parents and siblings, and she had listened and shared her own stories. They might need longer, but they would get there. At least, she hoped so.
***
Going to the baby shower had been a good idea, it was a nice evening, with a lot of heartfelt stories and most of her friends in one place, which did not happen often. Coming back was hard, however.
She went through the next few days on autopilot, waiting for Daniel to return, but not entirely sure what she would tell him when he would. They could hardly try harder. There was little they could do but wait. Hope, month after month, that her period would stop. She wouldn't even say no to morning sickness, even though she was very sure she would regret that statement at one point or another.
When Daniel came home, she was vacuuming. He had told her when he would be arriving, but she had lost sight of the time, trying to occupy herself. They hugged and kissed, Daniel started talking about the weekend and what he had gotten up to, next to what she could see on the screen, and she talked about what she had done. She pulled up pictures from the baby shower and, since she had kept it secret from him until now, told him that it would be a boy. He was delighted by that.
They didn't talk about children that evening, or the day after, or the day after that. She simply did not know how to approach the topic, how to express her thoughts. She herself could hardly make sense of them.
In the end, it was Daniel that sat them down on the couch. He was very sure about what had been running through her mind since he came back. He didn't know what to say either, but he had another idea. One that wouldn't solve their problem, but one that would maybe help them be a bit more positive again.
"So, um. I was thinking of emptying the small room. Everything that's inside could be placed somewhere else. It's not that much, and then we'd have a blank space." Not knowing what she would think of it, he looked at her expectantly. He would suggest painting the room already, but collecting a few ideas and having the space free might help them get a bit of their excitement back. He hated the dread he sometimes felt, and he hated even more that he didn't know how she felt.
She took his hand and started playing with his fingers. She didn't look at him, that was another thing that had started recently, and he hated it but, once again, didn't know a solution too. "That's a very nice idea." Her voice was meek, the enthusiasm he had hoped for was not to be found. "But?" He turned his hand, squeezing hers. At that, she looked up at him. "I don't want to look at an empty room, not knowing when it will be filled." Her face had that apathetic look, the one he knew to associate with deep sadness coming from her.
"Okay, I understand that." He thought of something else, anything else, and remembered something Max had shown him a while ago. Kelly had created a Pinterest to redesign her daughter's room. Something like that may work.
"How about we start collecting ideas for the room? I know we both bookmark Instagram posts but something more specific. So that we'll really have a concept when it comes down to it. I know it'll take some time for you to decide on all the furniture." She smiled softly. He knew she liked it when he showed that he knew her. "I have already collected a few." He nodded, that was what he wanted to hear. "Then let's look over it together, let's really get into it, yes?" Her smile was contagious.
This would not solve the problem, but it would bring them together once more. It would bring them joy that they were, at this point, severely lacking. It would also simply give them more time. Something to fill the gap between now and that fateful day they were waiting for.
***
The doctor's appointment had been in her calendar for some time. She had laid it precisely so that Daniel could come with her. A bit of dread filled her when thinking about it, but also hope. This could help them, after almost three years of trying.
Daniel had bought her flowers this morning on his jog, promised her they would get pastries on the way back. No matter what the doctor was going to find today, she would have her partner by her side and he would stay.  No matter what outcome there'd be.
The conversation was nice, this was not her first appointment with this gynecologist and she trusted her. Most of the testing had been done in advance and, as they were going through every little thing that regarded her reproductive system, Daniel held her hand.
He had already been tested for everything under the sun that could pose a problem with his fertility, and Daniel's doctor had told them the same thing her doctor was telling them now. There was no problem. There was no reason that could be found as to why they shouldn't be able to naturally conceive.
They talked a bit more about different options before saying their goodbyes and leaving. The confirmation was a relief, and Daniel hugged her tight when they were standing alone in the corridor. They had both let themselves be checked out before starting to try for a baby in the first place, but this second search had been more thorough, had focused more on things that could cause fertility issues, and now they knew there were non.
After the promised breakfast and a quick stroll along the harbour they found themselves back in their apartment. Daniel had sat down on the couch, and she had found herself a place on his lap. She had laid her head in the crook of his neck.
They were both contemplating what this meant. They could have children together, it was simply taking a long time. So they'd continue as they had before, trying and waiting. A game they were both sick off.
"You know what Lando said the other day?" His voice was filled with humour, not as enthusiastic as normally, a little bit dry. She rolled her eyes. "Do I even want to know?" Daniel shrugged, turning his head to give her a kiss on the hairline. "'This would all be so much easier if you were teenagers.'" She sat back a bit to look at his face, an incredulous look on her face. "Seriously? That little fucker!" Her exclamation was one of disbelieve, but she fell into slight laughter afterwards. "If one of you would have been a teen parent, it would have been Lando!" Daniel smiled too, the topic would be one that they couldn't sweep under the rug, but for today they'd had enough serious conversations. "I don't know, Pierre is also a contender." They fell into laughter once more. As they continued to bicker, one thing was clear. They'd do it together.
***
They had started talking more about it once again. Determined that they would grow on this journey. Even if it was hard. Their chat was filled with pictures of negative pregnancy tests, since Daniel wanted to know about every single one she took. Most of the time, even when he was in a completely different timezone, he facetimed her so they could talk during the wait.
She was very sure she could, at this point, estimate the time it took for the test to show a result by heart. There had been a time when she hadn't even bought pregnancy tests anymore, discouraged by their year-long trial. The simple motion of taking one from time to time was, however, showing her that it was still part of their life and that it would happen someday.
On the magnetic board in the kitchen hung a leaflet. It was folded and consisted of a few pages of content.  It had hung there for quite some time. She had put it in her purse without much thinking, after seeing it laying on a side table at the doctors. There were descriptions in it of different ways of conception except the natural one, and a short introduction to the adoption process.
Daniel had asked her about it, and she had answered that she wanted to know the options they had. Now it was more of an eyesore to her. The options that were presented were valid and good ones, but not the ones she wished to take at this point in life. That's how she found herself walking over to it, in the middle of making dinner, and taking it down. She opened the bin and dropped it inside.
Later, after having had dinner, Daniel nodded towards the empty spot. "You took it down?" She nodded, laying down her cutlery. "I threw it out." He nodded in response, but his expression was questioning. "Why? It was a good pamphlet, I read through. I even, um, looked some of it up. Pretty informative and they presented different options." She leaned back, relaxing in her chair. Talking about it had become easier. "I know, I read it too. But it was not really what we were planing on, right? If we ever do consider it, we can get another one, but right now we're still trying... how did you say it? 'The old-fashioned way'!" Daniel smiled, bright and intoxicating. Once more, she thought about the love she harbored for him. "Yes, that's understandable."
He drank a bit and a comfortable silence settled over them, neither wanting to stand up just yet. "Would you consider other options?" His voice was low. She looked back at him, her gaze having drifted off to another point in the kitchen. "Yeah, we have talked about it before. We'd have to talk about it a lot more, of course, but I am open to something like IVF, or even adoption. I know that's a topic you have looked into a bit deeper." Daniel nodded and cleared his throat before he answered. "I think it's something important, and I would like to look into it even after you get pregnant." He searched for eye contact, gouging her reaction.
This was not a new conversation, something like this had come up multiple times before. The conversation had, however, never been this serious. They had talked about the process a bit and how they felt about it, but that he considered it this seriously was new to her. "Okay, I'm open to that. Do you want to talk more about it right now?" He drank some more water, apparently a bit nervous. "It's always something I have thought about. It is complicated and comes with more problems than I can probably think of, but every child deserves loving parents. They'd not be ours biologically, but I don't think that is the most important thing."
She thought about it for a few moments and nodded. "Yes. We'll have to talk about it a lot more, but I understand where you are coming from, and we want more than one child, so it is something to consider." Daniel smiled at her. "We don't have to plan it out now. We still have at least one child planned before that." He looked at her stomach before continuing, "There are seminars and stuff like that about it, so we could maybe look at that." She nodded once more. "I think that is a good idea."
***
Over the years they had been approached by different people with different attitudes. Sometimes it had been when they were together, but that had been more so in the beginning. The more time that passed without her getting pregnant, the more of their friends approached them individually.
When they had told their families, they had gotten a lot of heartfelt good wishes and a few snarky remarks from the younger members of the families. Daniel's mother had made a remark about becoming a grandmother in every second conversation for the remainder of the time they had spent there. His sister had talked about parenthood, the highs and lows of it. Painting a happy, but also quite difficult picture. They had, while talking about it after returning home, noticed that she had taken each of them aside to talk about the pregnancy and the first few months after it. She had told them about the hardships and that it could be a horrendous time. Giving both of them advice, catered to their role in it. They had both been quite touched by it and thanked her the next time she had called.
Sebastian had talked to Daniel during the phase where he was constantly worrying. She may not be pregnant, but he was already considering all the things he could do wrong as a new father. Seb, who had his own family, reassured him. He had told Daniel that he'd be a good father and that he would learn a lot. Parenting had aspects that were more natural than others, but as long as they'd do it as a couple, there shouldn't be anything important going wrong. After a few more frenzied interactions, he had cornered Daniel once more and had, as Lando would later call it, used 'dad jokes' to help. Which meant more reassurance, that a wrongly wrapped diaper would not make him a horrible father.
For her there had been a lot of advice regarding the pregnancy, some better than other, but all given with good intent. There came, however, a time when she was more than sick of hearing it. After one misguided comment from someone, she had, however, decided that any pregnancy advice was better than advice on how to conceive successfully.
There was a little confusion at the first race she visited after they decided they were ready to try. There had been quite a few people that had started conversations about pregnancy and children. She had not considered it public knowledge that they were trying for a child, but it seemed to be just that. After asking around a bit, she had found the source, and she couldn't even be mad about it. It seemed Daniel had talked so much about pregnancy and kids that it was just assumed that they were trying, and there had been a few incidents where people had discreetly asked him if she was indeed pregnant. Daniel was a bit embarrassed when she confronted him about it, but there was a bright smile on his face. He was not able to mask his excitement at the idea of being a parent with her.
The questions and the people giving advice had become less and less with time. When it came to the time when they really needed people to ask them how they were doing, there were few friends left that did.
She had been approached by one of her friends, concerned about her wellbeing, asking her how she was feeling about the prospect of pregnancy. After some reluctance, she had practically poured out her heart, which had been desperately needed. There had been people that had tried a lot longer than they had, but it did not make it easier. The pain was there, and even though Daniel was always at her side, sometimes the self-doubt simply wormed itself in. Was she the problem? Why couldn't her body do what she so desperately wanted from it?
Daniel's mental state at that time wasn't much better. Max took him aside at a race weekend and asked him about it, trying to help as best as he could. Daniel was not ready to talk about it, however. Deflecting and thanking him for the concern, but not opening up.
In the end, Blake was the person that came through to him. Not through one single conversation but through multiple small ones. He showed concern and support, through little gestures and conversations. It helped Daniel to realise that they had both been so absorbed in the grief of things that did not happen, that they had lost sight of the fact that they were in it together. That they had each other to lean on and that they needed to support each other.
They started to talk more again, they hadn't stopped, but there had been more silence and a lot of repetitive and meaningless conversations. The pregnancy wouldn't just happen, but there was more they could do, and so they started to work on it.
At the five-year mark of trying, they had decided to paint the walls of the nursery. Daniel had not removed his things yet, and it was still somewhere between an office and a storage room, but they had wanted to try out colours and motives so afterwards the walls were a bit mismatched and fun. When asked if the change in wallpaper meant anything, they shook their heads. There were hardships to be overcome, but life was good.
***
She was leaning against the doorframe of the living room. Daniel was sitting on the couch, his back turned towards her, and he was engrossed with his tablet. He hadn't noticed her presence yet. These little domestic moments filled her with a lot of happiness and a small smile formed on her face.
"Daniel?" Her voice was serious. He turned towards her. "Full first name. What can I do for you, love?" She smiled a bit more, loving the way he tried to immediately make her more comfortable with humour, without undermining whatever she was going to say. "My period's late. Like, late late." His face went through multiple emotions in the span of a moment, confusion, surprise, disbelief and delight. "Have you, you know?" He nodded in the direction of the bathroom. She shook her head, raising the pregnancy test in her hand. "I wanted you to be there. Just in case." There was a smile on her face, in anticipation for the thing they had waited almost six years for. The implication was double-edged nonetheless. In case she wasn't pregnant, so that she wouldn't be alone for another negative test.
Daniel smiled, reassuringly, and filled with more excitement than he had felt in a long time. "Let's go then." The way to the bathroom was the same she had taken often over the last few years, with a similar test in hand, but this time was different. There was a hope that hadn't been there before.
The procedure was the same as it had been the countless times before, but this time the waiting was different. They sat down on the edge of the bathtub, but after the first few minutes, she shook her head and stood up. She took a piece of toilet paper, dried off the test, and took Daniel's hand. Shortly afterwards they were sitting on their bed. He had his legs crossed, and she was leaning against him.
Daniel put an arm around her, stroking along hers. "It's gonna be positive. And if not, we're going to continue." She nodded, trying to calm herself down. If she had to pinpoint an emotion she was feeling right now, she would not be able to do it. There was too much going on in her head. She turned her head and looked at Daniel's profile. His gaze was focused on the test. "We'll have to decide on a name then, won't we?" His head turned towards her. "We already decided on that, and you know it." There was mock affront in his voice, and he put on an offended frown. She smiled and took his hand. "Yeah, I know."
The first few moments after Daniel's alarm went off neither of them moved, then he leaned forwards, picked up the test and held it out to her. Her hands were shaking lightly when she took it. Turning it around took more mental strength than she had ever thought possible for such a simple action.
Her vision was blurry, but the result was still visible to her. She looked at Daniel, but his face was already simply a blur, but he was also crying. She knew that. He took her into his arm, kissing the crown of her head before leaning down and placing his forehead against hers. "You're pregnant." His voice was shaky, and she knew that, if she would look at him, he would have the biggest smile on his face she had ever seen. "Yes, we're going to have a child." She looked down, looking at her stomach incredulously.
They simply sat together in silence, enjoying the feeling, the closeness and each other. There were doctor's appointments that needed to be made and a lot of things needed organising. This moment, however, was theirs to enjoy. Pregnancy would be no easy journey, it involved risks and challenges, as would parenthood, but they were in it together.
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@kigieri 2024. All rights reserved. Do not copy, steal, translate or repost any of my work.
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rinrinx2 · 10 months ago
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Could you do something where reader takes renzo shopping with her and she's at sephora for the last place and she takes him in the Nars section and she tries to cover his eyes so he doesn't see the makeup names and when they get home he blurts a name out from bars dyk what I mean ?
Your wish is my command 🫶
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Reading is fundamental
Rindou x reader
Warnings: innapropriate language, none really
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Going shopping with Renzo wasn't an uncommon thing to do. You and Rindou brought him almost everywhere that allowed children. So, when Rindou had told you that he had business to attend to with Ran and that you would need to take him with you to the mall you had no complaints. It would just be a mall outing for the two of you.
You and Renzo had started off strong at the mall, going from store to store with little fuss. Renzo wasn't really a nagging child and you where forever grateful for that, making your shopping experience a lot easier than most moms with kids.
You and Renzo were continue your shopping journey, as the two of you walked passed Sephora. Stopping in your tracks you decided to go inside, but before you entered you had spoken to the little boy who held your hand with his own smaller one.
"Ren honey, don't touch the things in store" you said in a tender voice warning the young boy to be wary of the items. You knew Renzo was at that curious age were anything shiny he needed to touch, and the last thing you needed was him breaking a foundation bottle and you have to pay for it.
The small boy nodded in understanding, as the two of you entered. you walked passed the various sections in the store, looking at the different lipsticks, eyeshadows, facial lotions and concealers, with Renzo following you. The little boy eyeing all the colourful items but not daring to touch them as to test your warning.
"You think this colour looks pretty on mommy?" You asked the little boy as you puckered your lips at him, watching as he giggled.
"Maybe no" He answered honestly.
"Ouch, didn't realise you were as truthful as you uncle Ran" You replied back putting the lipstick back on its place.
You and Renzo continued walking, deciding to go to the Nars section hoping to find a lipstick or blush, as you were quite fond of their products.
You had arrived in the Nars section, finding where the lipsticks were. You let go of Renzo's hand reminding him of your warning.
"Remember no touching" you reminded him as you went to try on the lipstick in your hand infant of the small vanity mirror.
While you were preoccupied Renzo had taken a few steps away from you, not to far for concern but still a good distance.
Your words played over in Renzo's head.
'No touching'
But you never said that he couldn't read the product names, as the shiny packaging had his full attention. You see as much as Renzo was at the age of curiosity he was also at the age were he could read and thanks to you and Rindou putting him into a prestige school his reading skills was remarkable something that you were proud of.
You looked away from the mirror to show Renzo the new lip colour you dawned, but when you turned you realised the young boy was no longer where you left him. Panicking when you walked around the aisle to find your son holding a box as more panic set in as you feared he would drop the item, but before you could even get a word out you heard the little boys voice.
"DEEP THROAT BLUSH!" the little boy loudly read, as nearly every woman in the store turned their heads looking at Renzo.
"Renzo" you whispered quietly trying to get the boys attention without gaining anymore.
As you continued to walk over towards him you watched him pick up another makeup product, and you watched as his mouth opened and you felt your legs speed up in pacing. Hand out about to grab him when you heard.
"ORGASM BLUSH"
And once again all eyes were on Renzo and now on you.
"Put it down honey, and lets go" you said urging the boy on to put the blush back as you grabbed his hand and went to the counter to pay for your things so that you could leave with whatever little dignity you had left.
You stood at the counter paying for your items while Renzo looked around the shop. You had just finished swiping your card when you felt a little tug on your jacket, when you heard the question.
"WHAT IS BETTER THAN SEX MAS- KAR- RA?" Renzo asked loud and clear.
You gave the cashier a smile grabbing your bags, seeing the young woman pull her face into a tight smile as blush rose to her cheeks at your sons question.
You grabbed Renzo and made your way out of Sephora, mentally noting that you'd never take Renzo there again.
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"So, how was your day champ?" Rindou asked the young boy who messily ate his spaghetti.
"It was fun" The little boy replied not even looking at his father as he pulled a spaghetti high up in the air.
"We had too much fun" you said looking over at your husband with that expression that already told him you were drained from today.
"I think I'm going to take a bath after dinner"
"You deserve one baby" Rindou said with a smile.
Rindou looked over at Renzo seeing that the boy was occupied with his pasta not even noticing the two of you as Rindou whispered over towards you.
"And when I put champ to bed maybe I can join you"
You smiled at Rindou's words, as you felt heat rise to your cheeks, and then
"SEX BOMB" Renzo said loud, Rindou froze internally freaking out wondering how his son heard him whisper that to you.
"A bath bomb you should use that for you bath mommy"
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Hope you liked it
All rights reserved to @rinrinx2
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thicccshady · 5 months ago
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Hype Man🤧
Eminem X Reader
✨️MasterList✨️
Content: Sick, Cursing
She ripped into a new box of tissues as a sneeze came on. Having the immune system of a Victorian baby bird came with Spidey-senses anytime she got sick. Nonetheless, the rushing led-heavy head and stuffed nose was still a nuisance.
Marshall had been very sweet. This was supposed to be a busy weekend, one she had looked forward to. Marshall’s foundation had planned a benefit concert, of course hosted in Detroit. But selfishly, she was a tad more excited to babysit her fourteen-month-old niece.
Babysitting her niece was more than just a favor for her sister—it was a chance to bond with the tiny, giggling tornado she adored. But now, with her sinuses pounding like the bass at any of Marshall’s concerts, and her body feeling like wet sand, she had no choice but to cancel. Marshall had offered to step in, but she’d quickly squashed that idea.
“You’re joking. There’s absolutely no way. This kid is in the ‘lick everything’ stage. You don’t need a baby, whatever bug I’ve got, and a concert to manage. Marshall, you can’t bring her on stage with you,” she’d insisted over the phone, punctuating her argument with a sneeze.
“She could be my hype man…” She didn’t laugh at his joke. He did not need anyone to encourage this terrible idea. Marshall accepted defeat, “Fine, but I did order something for her. I think it should be delivered soon.” 
A familiar warmth spread inside her at the thought of Marshall finding something special for their little guest, even if it wouldn’t be used this time. After a quick call to her sister, she learned she wasn’t the only one under the weather. They would also be spending the night in, cuddled under blankets and tissue snow. Relieved it all worked out; sleepiness snuck back in. Curled up in one of Marshall’s sweatshirts and a fluffy duvet, her eyes drifted shut. 
A doorbell ring interrupted just as she began to doze Lifting her head, the sound puled her from the haze of impending sleep. Groaning, she sluggishly got up, clutching the duvet around her shoulders like a makeshift cocoon. Peeking through the peephole, she spotted the delivery box that Marshall had anticipated.
Opening the door, she brought the package inside and set it on the coffee table, sneezing twice in rapid succession as she did. The cardboard box was plastered with colorful cartoon animals, the kind of thing designed to make parents (or uncles with absolutely no restraint) click “buy now” without hesitation. Peering at the carnival-vomit of colors in front of her, she wondered what could be inside. But she knew how much Marshall liked to open thing, especially toys. So, she pushed her curiosity to the back of her mind and returned to her tissue box. 
---
Marshall pushed open the door later that evening, his hoodie pulled up against the icy Detroit wind. Rehearsal had run longer than expected—typical for a benefit concert, where every note had to be perfect—but he was still riding the high of hearing the preview of the booming polished sound coming that evening. His voice was a little hoarse, but his energy was electric. 
The sight of her curled up under a mountain of blankets brought him back to reality. Tissue boxes littered the coffee table alongside an untouched mug of tea, long since gone cold. She looked up groggily as he set his stuff down by the door. 
"Hey, Sweetheart," he said with a lopsided grin. "How are you holding up?"
"Huh??," she muttered. Her ears were plugged. She couldn’t understand him, but she was happy he was home. "Looks like rehearsal went well!"
Smirking he spot the unopened delivery box on the coffee table. "You didn’t open it?" 
She shook her head. "Figured you'd want the honors."
"Fuck yeah." He smirked, grabbing the box and unconventionally tearing into it. Any chance of reusing the box vanished as the colorful cardboard fell away to reveal a bright plastic baby turntable, complete with tiny buttons, flashing lights, and a toy record that could actually spin. Marshall’s face lit up. You’d think he just opened a new expensive revolutionary gadget, not necessarily a fisher price toy.
“Are you kidding me right now?” she croaked, trying not to laugh, coughing lightly into a tissue. “A turntable? She’s not even two, Marshall.”
"Exactly. Gotta start her early," he said, already pressing buttons to make the toy light up and emit comically cheerful beats. Pursing his lips, he nodded along to the mechanical beat playing a number song through the tiny speakers.
“Does Mr. Porter know about this?” She teased, amused by his dancing.
“Oh, he will soon.” Marshall discovered a new button. The music stopped as a chipper voice said “Let’s record a track! When the light turns red, sing a song.” He made eye contact with her as he brought the toy closer to his mouth to sing “I’m fucking awesome.”
After a brief second of holding in her laughter, they heard Marshall’s voice played over a basic beat on repeat. She lost it. Even though she felt terrible, she had missed his goofy ass so much today. Her laughter quickly turned into a barky coughing fit. 
He gently sat the toy down and crossed over to her. Rubbing her back gently, he handed her the mug of tea, remembered it was cold, and excused himself to grab her a drink. 
Marshall quickly returned with a fresh mug of tea, steam curling upward in inviting wisps. He placed it on the table in front of her and crouched down to her level, his expression soft with concern.  
“Are you sure you’re alright? You sound worse than before,” he said, brushing a stray strand of hair from her clammy forehead.  
“Yeah, I’m fine,” she croaked, her voice raspy and unconvincing. “Just got a little too excited about your next Grammy-winning single.”  
“Yeah, that shits gonna put me on the map.” He smirked, tilting his head. Returning to the matter at hand. “You need to clear out your sinuses before you cough up a lung. C’mon steam always helps.”  
She raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Strip show? Right now?” 
“The fuck? No.” He stood, swallowing a chuckle, and stretching his arms above his head. His hoodie rode up slightly. “I gotta get ready and you’re coming with me. Bathroom’s basically a steam room.” He winked. She groaned in protest at the thought of moving. He held out his hand to help her. “You can sit on the counter, wrapped in your… what the fuck is all of this? Cocoon. The steam will do the work, and I’ll get ready. Win-win.”
---  
The bathroom quickly filled with steam, the mirror fogging over as hot water rained down in a steady rhythm. She perched on the counter, clutching the fresh mug of tea. The heat and moisture in the air began working its magic, easing the tension in her head and loosening the congestion in her chest.  
From behind the frosted shower door, Marshall’s silhouette worked as he hummed and mumbled lyrics, his low voice carrying a certain intimacy in the small, echoing space.  
“Better?” he called out between verses. 
She gently nodded, “Yeah, actually,” she replied, her voice already less strained. “I can breathe through my left nostril again. It’s a miracle.” 
"Hell yeah, lefty’s always been the MVP."  
She shook her head, amused by his goofy banter. The warmth in the room wasn’t just from the steam, his energy. Normally he was drained when he came home, especially after a long day like today. But right now, he was infectious, ridiculous. He managed to distract her from how miserable she felt. She sipped her tea. Breathing deep, the steam loosened something caused her to sneeze, cough, cough, sneeze, and cough (in that order). 
“I’m fine!” she quickly added before blowing her nose, knowing Marshall just heard all of that. 
“Me when my girl makes that noise.” She could practically hear the smirk in his voice. Turning she saw Marshall’s Shallotte holding something long extruding from his hips.
“Marshall, is that a fucking shampoo bottle?” She chuckled at his immature joke. 
“No… it’s two shampoo bottles.”
“Oh, my bad,” she said with a teasing eye-roll he couldn’t see.  
A pause, followed by the sound of the water shutting off. Marshall cracked the shower door open just enough to peek his head out, his hair dripping and a boyish grin on his face. “You know the real thing is bigger.”  
“Debatable,” she teased, though the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her.  
He stepped out, wrapping a towel around his waist. Droplets of water trailed down his chest, and she had to resist the urge to make a comment about the man in front of her. Instead, she opted for another sip of tea, hoping the steam would mask the flush creeping up her cheeks.  
Marshall grabbed another towel and tossed it over his head, rubbing at his hair in quick, careless movements. “Hey! You’re starting to look a little less like shit,” he said, his voice muffled by the towel.  
“Oh Thanks,” she said dryly. “Careful, you’ll give me a bottle boner.”  
Marshall dropped the towel and grinned at her. “Hey, I’m just saying, the steam’s working.” He leaned against the counter next to her, his damp hair dripping onto his back. “I could bring that turntable in here,” he suggested. “Record a sick diss against the bug inside you.”  
The thought made her laugh a genuine, belly-deep laugh that made her cough again, but it was worth it.  
“There’s my girl,” he said softly, reaching out to squeeze her knee as he placed a kiss on her cheek.
A/N: This is the exact toy referenced. I am heavily considering buying it for a friend's kid. Watch some review videos for giggles.
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neodymiumcuilz · 3 days ago
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GAZA IS STILL BEING SYSTEMATICALLY STARVED TO DEATH, AND THE WORLD HAS FORGOTTEN ABOUT THIS???
So many people from Gaza have been coming out and saying that they feel abandoned, even as the situation escalates and more and more casualties than ever... what's especially disgusting is that Isreal has been murdering people waiting for a box of food... this "Gaza Humanitarian Foundation" that operates in Rafah is a death trap. We need all eyes and attention on Gaza right now.
The "Gaza Humanitarian Foundation" is not giving aid, it's killing people.It dosent even work in principle, because humanitarian aid is about taking it to where people need it, you cannot make a mother walk 15 kilometres or more, or elderly, or those who are sick, injured or amputees.
Half of Gaza is children. Who are weakened, starving, dehydrated, disease ridden, orphaned 4,5,6,7 year old expected to traverse active Israeli kill points to walk barefoot on uneaven, jagged, dirty rubble for 15 km in the punishing heat and glare of the sun, get shot at while attempting to collect aid in a package they will never be able to lift amd carry back.
During the short "ceasefire", there were 400 distribution points. That is proper humanitarian aid. This "GHF" was only designed to make the world think that aid is getting in, when it's not, and move the population south, or in other words - ethnic cleansing.
And this "aid" is just boxes of food that people can hardly eat (because its extremely difficult to cook in Gaza) and are Israeli products, as a further means of humiliation.And also, aid is much more than just food, people need medicine, prosthetic limbs, hygiene products, cleaning products, medical supplies, fuel and shelter and clothes.
And when you deprive a population of anything for 2 months, looting is bound to happen. It's starvation economics. During the "ceasefire" there was no looting because humanitarian aid was able to flow freely.
And at these "aid distribution points" people are forced to fight for this aid, those who aren't as strong are far, far less likely to get aid at all, not to mention the insane prices beyond the means of most, a bag of flour costing the equivalent of $700.
Along with massacres on starving people occurring, people are being humiliated by being forced to line up and headed like animals, akin to concentration camps. Children are being murdered and dying just trying to get a box of food. Israeli forces will shoot "suspects" who deviate from the set routes. Over 330 Palestinians have been killed at these GHF centres.
OVER 330 PEOPLE HAVE BEEN MURDERED JUST TRYING TO GET AID.
ALL EYES ON GAZA, ALL EYES ON RAFAH.
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wooahaeruby · 1 year ago
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Chapter 1: Under Dimmed Street Lights
Chapter Word Count: 3,262
TW
Talking about drugging someone, implied torture, implied murder
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Night had fallen over the sullen city. It was the third day in a row where rain beat down, washing away any and all life when the streets rested. Tonight should have been no different in the late spring rain. The streets were nearly empty, the only ones that wandered the shadows crept in the night.
The edge of the metropolis was littered with industry and warehouses that boarded the waterways to international waters, some decrepit and run down while others held storage. A few warehouses rested in the borders of both old and new, camouflage well behind signage of a known shipping and packaging company worldwide. 
The lights barely seen from the windows weren’t bright, wishing to not draw unwanted attention to any outsiders that wished to travel the area so late. Doors on the outside were well guarded, each man armed with heavy artillery, concealed the best they could, and walkie-talkies, dressed well to hide exactly who they were. The overhangs protected them from any direct rain yet they would be soaked and freezing by morning fall. 
Inside was bustling, men and women moving wooden crates and metal locked boxes either into vans or into vault storage further in. Nothing was labeled, it was easier that way, but all personnel knew what each container vaguely held. It wasn’t a secret that it was sketchy, it wasn’t their place to judge based on their line of work, but it was demanding and little mistakes could unravel the very foundation of the business. 
Above the busy bodies that littered the main floor, guards on catwalks watched closely for any cracks in productivity. One move in the wrong was a broken hand, one step in opposition was a bullet through the head. In the far back of the building held a second floor and large windows that watched over each and every process that passed through the doors. 
“Jihoon has a lot cut out for himself tonight.” A voice snickered out the words, the person’s eyes scanning over the vans that were coming and going through the building. “Not like he planned to sleep much tonight anyways.” 
“Don’t let him hear you say that, Soonyoung, he’ll lace your drink again.” Someone from a lone couch spoke up.
A scoff left the man, rolling his eyes and turning back towards the rest in the room. Some lazed idly on couches while others sat back at the conference table, a few pairs of feet propped up on said table. 
“All I told him then was that he looked about as attractive as a zombie and suddenly he took all the offense in the world like he hasn’t said worse to me.” 
“And yet you still opened your mouth to say it to him. You’d think for the ‘great judge of character’ you are, you’d be better at reading your best friend's body language.”
A huff came from the man at the back of the room, sitting hunched over a sleek ebony desk, a stack of papers held in his hands. Jet black hair fell over his eyes as he peered past his bangs, looking over the small congregation before him. “If you are willing to run your mouths, why don’t you go down and help him if you are so concerned.” 
One laughed from his lounged spot on the couch, not bothering to lift his head. “I think I’d rather bite the bullet than annoy Jihoon and have a gun to my head, Seungcheol.” 
“Another word, Seungkwan, and I will order you to join him.” 
Dark eyes watched as Seungkwan mimicked zipping his lips and throwing away the key, settling back into the cushions and tapping away on his phone.
“Now if any of you can track down Joshua and Jeo-” Seungcheol’s words were cut off by the door to the room slamming open. 
Strolling through the entrance, two tall, black clad figures stepped through, one wearing a long trench coat, his shoulder length hair half tied up in a ponytail. His companion wore a sleek leather jacket, chocolate brown, medium length hair down and pushed back from his face to see. They spoke loudly, everyone else’s attention being drawn to them. As the one wearing the leather jacket closed the door firmly, laughing at something the other said, Seungcheol cleared his throat, sitting back in his chair, sending a glare towards the two. 
“Speaking of the literal devils, you’re late.” 
“Ah, Cheol,” Trench coat spoke up, striding over to the man��s desk and leaning himself against it, back facing Seungcheol. “We aren’t late, you are just early as per usual.” 
With a click of his tongue, Seungcheol rolled his eyes and stood, rounding the desk and making his way to the head of the table. “Sit, Jeonghan, We have a lot to discuss tonight and the tardiness is already eating into my time.” 
From an unspoken order, each of the other twelve men in the room gathered around the table, taking their seats in relative silence. Seungcheol waited patiently as Jeonghan took a seat to his left while the new leather clad figure took a seat to his right. He picked the walkie-talkie off his belt and called for Jihoon who appeared not a few moments after everyone else was settled, locking the door before taking his seat.
While Seungcheol’s shoulders relaxed, his face held a stern expression, looking about his team. 
“Wonwoo, report.” 
The man pushed his glasses up his nose further, scrolling through something on his phone. “They aren’t any closer to finding us, Seokmin’s interference and my entrance to the mainframe is still strong. I don’t see any problem going forward with slipping more false information to them. As for the mayor, Vernon and I have delivered the papers regarding his affair and are awaiting a response.” The second aforementioned man nodded with Wonwoo’s words, speaking up himself. 
“I also slid some of his daughter’s partying to him so he was more inclined to agree.” 
Seungcheol nodded, turning his gaze to another. “Seokmin, anything to add?” 
Though the room was dim, his bright eyes lit up and a cocky smile spread on his face. “I have the department heads looking somewhere in the next city for a new lead on us but I doubt they won’t find more than a body thanks to Chan.” 
“Jihoon, how are the shipments coming?” 
A hum left the man, pulling a pile of folded papers from his back pocket and flipping through them. “Everything has been accounted for so far regarding pills and such. I had them weigh everything and it’s correct. Weapons are clean at first glance, no serial numbers. All that will be needed is disassembly and reassembly to make sure each one is undamaged then we can ship out.” 
“Let me know if there are any issues with the next shipment, we’ve been experiencing issues with the supplier recently.” With a nod from Jihoon, Seungcheol continues on. “Soonyoung?” 
“Oh- ah!” Soonyoung smiled, sharp eyes gleaming with something…dark. “The trader we grabbed wasn’t giving up any information so I kicked it up a notch but…” He waved his hand in the air, trying to find the words but his hand fell flat on the table and a pout formed on his lips. “He had a mental break and we just ended it, we found some info on his phone and took some names down.” 
Raising a brow, Seungcheol crossed his arms, tilting his head in curiosity. “Define…mental break.” 
“Oh! The usual, screaming, crying, begging for mercy, then something about the devil and he went cynical before he started mumbling to himself and wasn’t responsive. I barely even touched the guy, just a few threats about his wife and it just threw him over the edge I guess. She is clean by the way, Wonu checked. She is just a housewife who thought her husband was a delivery man. We set a guy out to let her know he died on the job and had to quell her questions.” Soonyoung sent a wink to Seungcheol who barely blinked, unamused. He’d take it at that. 
“Joshua, have you moved the money offshore like I asked?” 
“Yeah, boss,” He spoke up, taking a phone from his jacket pocket, unlocked it, and slid it to the other. “6.3 million. Mingyu and Seungkwan are handling the rest towards the shipping company, putting it into supplies and international business as you requested.” 
Nodding, Seungcheol eyed the others he hasn’t called out for or those unmentioned, “Junhui, Minghao, Chan, how is preparing for the next sent out?” 
Minghao cleared his throat, resting his elbows on the table. “We drive out tomorrow night. If all goes well, we should be back by the following morning after disposal. If a problem arises, one of us will reach out and figure out a solution. I didn’t see any issues as of now.” 
Chan and Junhui both nodded in agreement and Junhui spoke up. “The cars are almost packed and new plates were grabbed.” 
From his left, a small snicker was heard. “Aren’t you going to ask me, Cheol?” 
Staring blankly down the table, Seungcheol looked at nothing of interest, not bothering to look at the nuisance to his side. “You are going to talk anyways, start before I kick you out.” 
Another snicker, this one louder and full of mischief. “We have two cargos coming in within the month from overseas, some new artillery are coming and a few different crates of drugs,” Jeonghan rested his elbow on the chairs armrest and curled a clump of hair around his finger, “I have a very lovely painting coming in that is worth a pretty penny and will be displaying it in the house.”
He turned a bit, gauging the reaction of the others; a few eyerolls and quiet sighs at his antics. 
“A few exotic animals, a tiger,” He winked to Soonyoung who lit up. “Some katanas were liberated from a museum, heard something about a Japanese general but I didn’t listen much after that one. Fancy cigars, cigarettes.” Jeonghan listed them off nonchalantly, humming quietly as he thought. “Original paintings I had some people take after replacing them for fun. As for the fight-”
“That’s enough.” Seungcheol’s stern voice rang through the room laced with annoyance. He pinched the bridge of his nose, frowning as he felt the sinister grin staring at the side of his face. “Wipe that stupid look off your face.” 
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, you aren’t even looking at me.” Jeonghan teased. 
“Lock up everything in the vaults. If you have nothing to do, get back to the house and rest. Jihoon, have the men start on everything tomorrow, we are ahead of schedule and have no need to rush. We can pick up everything tomorrow evening.” The leader stood, motioning to Joshua and Jeonghan to not move. “Everyone dismissed.” 
One by one they filed out of the room, bidding goodnights or figuring out who was leaving with who. Jeonghan and Joshua made no motion to move, both sending waves to their younger ones, saying they’d see them at home. When the door closed behind the last of their group, Seungcheol fell back into his chair, grumbling out a few intelligent words. 
“Hmm… my dear King,” Jeonghan hummed, using the leader’s call name. “Maybe a night's rest will do you some good as well, don’t you think?” 
“And don’t go making excuses for needing to stay up and finish reports when no one is going to care about them until tomorrow when you can get them done.” Joshua added, resting his chin in his hand, elbow resting on the table. 
“Why are you grilling me when I should be grilling you for being late again? ” Seungcheol questioned, scoffing loudly and rolled his eyes. “Just because you both are heads of shit, doesn’t mean you can blatantly disregard orders from me , do you understand that?” 
Any hint of mischief that lingered beneath Jeonghan’s face was gone and he averted his gaze. Joshua was in a similar position, folding his hands now on the table. 
“Mind telling me why you were nearly half an hour late?” 
“We were getting things ready for fight night.” Jeonghan answered obediently, letting a held breath out of his nose. “One of the vendors was causing…problems so Shua and I had to handle the situation before getting back here for the meeting.” 
“Did you-” 
“He’s dead. He was trying to steal.” Jeonghan cut through the question with a sharp tongue, irritation written across his face. “And we had to dispose of the evidence.” 
Seungcheol looked to Joshua for confirmation, watching him nod and reach a hand into his jacket. It took no time for a simple handgun to be placed on the table before the three of them. Joshua took the magazine out and showed the counter, a singular bullet missing from the cartridge as final proof. 
“We already secured a new vendor.” The youngest of the three deadpanned, sharing a dull look between them.
They sat in relative silence, letting the weight of any stress settle in the pits of their stomachs before Jeonghan shook his head and stood, motioning his head towards the door. 
“Come on. Let’s get home before someone outside of Mingyu and Seokmin tries to cook.” 
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The ride out the city was usually quiet at this time of night. Taking the back roads was a constant for protection and invisible movement, Seungcheol insisted on it since the beginnings of their operations. He wasn’t one to carelessly dangle the lives of his chosen family and didn’t plan on losing any of them any time soon. Jeonghan gazed aimlessly out the window, watching the trees that encompassed their home pass by. 
Seungcheol came to a near stop, hitting a button on his phone for the gates to slide open when within range and easily driving down the path. Another expanse of trees surrounded the now dirty road, hiding their home from any peering eyes that were dumb enough to get close. 
As the treeline broke, their home’s main building came into view. The structure itself was a bit much, but when their first large distribution was a success through their underground business and the cover shipping company was easily growing, Seungcheol decided to scrape the home he held in inheritance from his long forgotten grandfather and built one for his new, found family. 
It was more of a mid-century modern mansion. Seungcheol wanted something basic but the influence of everyone had provided the consensus of wanting it to feel like a proper, warmth filled home. Seokmin had made a joke when they first entered the house that it was warm and homey, a perfect place for the cold blooded mafia. His comment only fueled the fire to make it feel like a normal home. Despite the field of work, their home was just that: a home. They cleaned up after themselves, cooked for one another – or well, some of them cooked for one another – and were able to properly relax. 
Pulling up in front of the house and hitting another button for the large garage to open, Joshua snorted from the backseat at the hoard of mostly cars and a lone bike taking up nearly every spot. “At least they still know to leave your spot open.” 
Near the back of the garage, closest to the door, Seungcheol parked the car, eyes resting on the crudely taped up sign that was put there a year or two back; Reserved for old person #1. Chan had found it hilarious when he and Seungkwan had it made, even getting one for Jeonghan and Joshua with #2 and #3. Jeonghan had found it funny, seeing as he joked he was indeed getting too old for this shit . Joshua humored his younger members and even customized a sign with his name to place under it when he could find the damn screw gun that someone took and never returned to the workshop. 
Jeonghan was first to step out of the car, stretching his long limbs and starting to take off his long coat as he stepped up the three steps to the door, easily pushing it open. 
“You finally got back!” Mingyu called out, Jeonghan taking note that the taller man was standing at the stove, stirring something that smells absolutely divine . He had dressed down from his usual black trousers and button-up in exchange for plaid pajama pants and a loose t-shirt. “I’m making spicy chicken stew at Junhui’s request, and I have a less spicy one depending on what everyone wants.” 
Jeonghan sent him a small ‘ thanks’ , saying he is going to his room to change since he still had time before everything was ready. Mingyu nodded and greeted the other two who entered from the garage. 
As he walked through the kitchen into the living room, Seungkwan and Vernon were lounging on the couch together, both on their phones with some drama playing on the obnoxiously large TV hanging on the wall. Where these two were, their youngest was close by even if he wasn’t directly interacting with them. Chan, as expected, wasn’t too far, laying back on one of the other couches, a blanket pulled over a majority of him as he held a book over his glasses-clad face. 
Making his way through the halls, Jeonghan found his room off the main living areas, pushing the door open and flicking on the lights. He tossed his coat onto the bed, the mostly brown and rustic colored scheme welcoming compared to the lodgings they had in the city. Rolling his shoulders, he strided into his closet and tugged out a pair of sweatpants and an old, worn out t-shirt before making his way into the bathroom to shower. 
Stepping out into the living room after freshening up, Jeonghan shuffled his way towards the table, seeing Minghao and Junhui settling the long table for thirteen. They didn’t eat together often but when they could, it typically became a large affair. 
He rounded into the kitchen to start grabbing cups down from the cupboard, easily maneuvering around Mingyu as he finished the last of the food preparations. Jeonghan slid the cups across the middle island to Minghao who grabbed a few in each hand and set them on the table. A comfortable silence settled over them as they worked, gathering any side dishes and placing them across the middle of the table. Jihoon had stumbled out of his room, showered and half asleep to dish out bowls of rice for each person. 
“Time to eat!” Seungcheol yelled down the hall behind him, bare feet padding against the floor with each step. 
In no time, the table was packed and bowls were being filled. Seungcheol had a rule of no major business conversations at the table, but that wasn’t always followed depending on the day. Jeonghan and Joshua, as per usual, took a seat on either side of their leader who sat at the head of the table. 
Aside from the clacking of utensils against the dishes, laughter and conversation flowed between them, brightening up the room with more than just light. It was nice to have normality in the face of chaos that their lives were. Two facades they had to put up most days was exhausting but none of them wished to truly leave. 
A family was founded the day they made a pack and that family will last until the end of time. 
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