#its like a robot plush thing

[mixalicious]

weird robot worm parasite creature whom i hate

very uninspired design i know i just really like the beanie baby worm 💔

[nomaishuttle]

ppl dont know this abt me bc im shy but i do love gir very much hes my bff.

[noljabae]

House Husband | Park Seonghwa x Reader

"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.

[diamond-rozie]

prompt 02: tim’s birthday present

Tim sat in his empty house at the empty dining table. The table was actually quite large; it had enough seats to sit at least 15 people. But there was just Tim there. 

His parents had promised and sworn up and down that they would come back in time for his birthday. He had everything planned out. He picked out the birthday cake, put on the candles, decorated, ordered his parents' favorite foods, his parents' favorite movie for movie night, popcorn the likes. But that morning, just when Tim was double checking to make sure everything was ready for the most perfect birthday ever, his parents had called to tell him that something really important had come up, and they wouldn’t be able to make it. Tim figured it was better than last year, at least they called this time. 

Tim stared down at the cake, the candles lit. He had heard online that people would make wishes on their birthday cake and blow it out. Tim thought that was a weird thing to do, but it wouldn’t hurt to try. 

What should he wish for? It would have to be something special that he doesn’t already have. Tim thought for a long moment, the candles bleeding into the frosting of the cake. 

A brother. 

Tim closed his eyes and put his hands together like he’s seen the other children to do in the cartoons. And Tim wished for a big brother. When he finally wished hard enough (whatever that meant) he opened his eyes and blew out what was left of the candles. 

Tim waited. What exactly was he supposed to do now? In the cartoons, everyone would celebrate and cheer and the birthday boy would open his presents. There wasn’t anyone to cheer for Tim, or any presents for him to open. 

Suddenly the house shook, and the loud sound of a crash sound came from the backyard. Quickly, Tim did the sensible thing and go check out what the noise was. That's what the characters always did in horror movies. 

In Tim’s backyard, there was what looked like a weird space ship that had crashed into his backyard. There wasn’t any fire or anything, but the spaceship looked pretty wrecked. Getting closer, Tim could vaguely make out that someone was inside the spaceship. Looking around, he saw what looked like maybe the handle. Tim couldn’t really tell. 

When Tim put his hand on it and tried to open it, something poked out mechanically and pricked his finger. He flinched back instinctively, caressing his finger tip.

“Recognized: Danny Fenton. System Override.” A robotic lady spoke. Who is Danny Fenton? As if to answer him, the space ship opened its hatch, and inside was an unconscious black haired teenager. “System Malfunctioning. Please Assis-” The robotic voice spoke again, before getting cut off as if the power had died. 

Suddenly, Tim remembered his wish. A big brother. 

This was Danny Fenton, and he was supposed to be Tim’s big brother

----

When Danny woke up, he found himself in a very soft plush something. Something that definitely wasn’t the Spector Speeder. Alarmed, he sat up quickly to find that he didn’t recognize where he was at all. He also didn’t recognize the weird kid that was staging at him from two feet away. 

“Hi, I’m Tim. Timothy Drake.” The boy introduced himself almost business like. 

“Uh, hi Tim.” Danny responded awkwardly. “You got any idea where I am?” Danny sat up properly, moving the blanket (?) off of him and turned to face the weird and kinda creepy kid. 

“You’re in Drake Manor. Which is where I live.” He answered again. 

“Ok…ay” Danny nodded thoughtfully. “Any idea how I got here?” Truthfully, Danny hadn’t really been expecting an answer, but he still got one. 

“Because I made a birthday wish to have a big brother.” He answered in the same way he had answered the other question, very matter-of-factly. 

“Ok- Wait. What?” Danny asked, doing a double take at Tim. 

“You’re supposed to be my big brother, right?” Tim was starting to look a little hesitant, and as weirded out as Danny felt he couldn’t help but feel bad about the whole situation. 

“Where are your parents, Tim?” 

“There not home, because they had really important things to do for work.” 

Danny nodded. “Do you know when they’ll be back?” 

Tim shook his head. “They were supposed to come back today, because it’s my birthday. But they said they couldn’t make it.” 

Well, shit. Didn’t that sound awfully like Danny’s birthdays before he had given up on his parents showing up. At least he had Jazz. This kid looked like he was alone. 

Not liking the silence, Tim started fidgeting again. “So, are you gonna be my brother, then?” 

And what was Danny supposed to say, No? Besides, if he was really causing problems being in this random universe, then Clockwork would figure it out. 

Bonus: 

Danny sat at Tim’s dinner table, the kid looking at him radiating in excitement, each with a plate of stupid expensive pasta in front of them. “You said your name was Tim, right?” Danny started thoughtfully. Tim nodded, drinking up everything Danny said. “Well, first course of action as you, big brother. I need to give you a nickname.” 

Tim’s eyes sparkled at the prospect. “Like what?”

Danny tapped his chin exaggeratedly, “Hm… Tim, Tim.” Turing the name around while he absentmindedly twirled his fork between his fingers, Danny wondered what he should come up with. Suddenly, in a misplaced strength, Danny’s fork flew out of his hand. 

Before Danny could even say anything, “I’ll get you a new one!” Tim offered quickly. Getting up from his chair, his foot got tangled behind the leg of the chair and Tim fell quietly on the floor with an oof. 

Danny laughed at him. “You okay, Timbers?” He asked, getting up to check on the boy. 

“Yeah, I like Timbers.” Tim said, a bright smile on his face despite the blossoming bruise on his arm.

------------

table of contents

[grandisknight]

zayne: a doctor's companion

summary: A certain healthcare companion finds its way into Linkon City, and a particular doctor is about to discover what it means to say ba-la-la-la-lah.

tags: established relationship, baymax (big hero 6), fluff, canon-complaint, one-shot, medical terms, phone call, gender neutral reader mentioned, mostly zayne's POV, first meetings

word count: 1.8k | (ao3)

notes: inspired by this tweet! also i just love baymax a lot and i think him and zayne would be a cute duo thank you ; including the stanford article i read for the surgery mentioned here! (not necessary for understanding though) (also if i get any med stuff wrong apologies i did my best! i was a girl in stem but not Stem yk)

+ update: the cutest zayne baymax art just dropped everyone say thank you mimi (zaynefied) (i cried)

⊹˚₊‧───────────‧₊˚⊹

Zayne was sure he had slept well the night before. Had his full eight hours, breakfast accomplished and a handful of kisses from his partner before heading out in his pristine, white coat. The drive to work was the same scenery of Linkon City rushing past, soon parked in his designated lot and tracing a familiar path towards Akso Hospital’s entrance.

So, even with such a practiced routine, how did he end up here? 

“I will scan you now. Please remain in place, Dr. Zayne.”

Zayne raises a hand in an effort to dissuade his unforeseen guest. “That won't be necessary.” But his rejection, in turn, was rejected itself—his brows narrowed at the losing notion.

“But it is. I am Baymax, your personal healthcare companion.” The robot calmly states, reflecting a similar monotone diction to the doctor. “I was alerted to the need of medical attention,” he continues, plush footsteps along the hardwood floor squeaking as he approaches the seated doctor. "When you said 'Oof.' So, I am here."

That singular oof traced back to the faint murmur under Zayne's breath just minutes ago when pushing through the growing crowd of peering eyes at Baymax's unprecedented presence. An unusual sight for everyday work life, the mysterious yet kind robot drew in the attention of incoming patients and passersby who happened to catch a glimpse. Zayne’s opportune timing and arrival to work hurriedly whisked away the looming inflatable as crowds huddled in growing excitement, geeking and gossiping alike. Most of his efforts thus far were put into escorting the curiously soft giant through the pristine halls and past the doorway of his office without garnering further unwarranted attention.

And currently, Zayne found himself subjected to a consultation by said robot.

“On a scale of one to ten, how would you rate your pain?” Baymax inquires. A chart of faces ranging in emotion and color flash over his chest in display. At the highest end stood a red expression painted in anguish, and to the lowest was a green facade of serenity.

Quickly, Zayne plainly states his number to mirror his current state. “Zero.”

Baymax stares him down with the abyss of his rather blank eyes wordlessly after receiving the response. In mere seconds, a pixelated, monotone hum with a hint of warmth made its way to Zayne’s ears. “Scan complete. You have sustained no recent injuries. However, your cortisol and neurotransmitter levels indicate that you are experiencing stress.”

No, really? Zayne’s brows and posture straightened then, removing his glasses and setting them aside. He echoes the conclusion, pushing down the unspoken remark with a bite of his tongue. “Stress? Is that so?”

Baymax nods, holding up a singular finger as he continues to reveal his findings. “This can be attributed to, for example, overconsumption of sugary foods or work overload. Have you had any of these two things recently?”

Zayne’s lips purse in thought, remembering the new maple syrup you had doused his pancakes in over an hour ago. ‘I picked this up during an overseas mission and thought you might like it,’ you explained to him, drawing an intricately sticky pattern of hearts atop his breakfast. It was still just syrup—not so much a difference in flavor to a regular one you could find at the nearby supermarket—but he was grateful for the gift nonetheless as he indulged in the sweet treat with you.

“Sugar, yes. Nothing wrong with it when done in moderation.”

Sure, he had a sweet tooth. But had been doing well to maintain a healthy intake of sugary pieces, lest he wanted another round of your ‘scoldings’ and an appointment to the neighboring orthodontist again.

With a slight sigh, he clasps his hands together over the expanse of his desk and continues. As for workload? He was almost always caught up in it, whether it were hands-on procedures or consultations. Today was no exception to the rule.

“And I do have work, if that’s what you’re referring to.”

“I see. May I make a suggestion?” Baymax asks.

Zayne gives him a curt signal of acknowledgement. “You may.”

“I can assist you with said workload. I am equipped with several modules and sensors that will be of use.”

Zayne contemplates for a moment, curious to the veracity of such a claim. Well, when one forms a hypothesis, the best way to test out the theory was through a designed experiment; and he was ready to do just that. “Alright. Give me just a moment.”

With a couple of speedy taps, Zayne pulls up a recent patient file and gestures for Baymax to approach. As the airy robot bounces into place beside him, Zayne points towards a diagram, a series of numbers and waves indicating observational data. “Here. Based on what you see, can you tell me what surgery this patient underwent?”

Baymax follows the trail of red lines, analyzing quickly in succession. “Their ECG fluctuations are affected by the noraderaline administrations over time. This line,” Baymax points to a blue parallel. “Indicates the oxygen levels throughout the surgery duration.” Calmly, he turns to blink at Zayne. “Diagnosis? The patient underwent a coronary artery bypass grafting procedure.”

Zayne nodded. Each detail was right on par, much to his surprise. “I’m impressed. Your creator must have put a lot of great effort into you.”

“He did. He was wonderful.” Baymax gives a thumbs up in return. “Am I to take it that I have passed your test?”

So he knew, even without having to say anything. “You have,” Zayne confirms with a small smile.

“Here.” Baymax raises his fingers and curls them into a fist, waiting for Zayne to meet him halfway. Slowly, Zayne does just that, meeting the soft plush before it was pulled away and sealed with a robotic tune.

“Ba-la-la-la-lah.”

“Bah… What now?”

“We have completed our first task together. This warrants a celebratory fist bump.” Baymax returns his enclosed fist towards the confused doctor once more. “You must also say it while our fists connect.”

Not finding it in himself to disagree, Zayne repeats the actions from before and adds on with an unsure, “Ba-la-lah.” Slightly strange, though it held a tinge of endearment that reminded him of a certain someone; he suddenly didn’t mind it as much then, shaking his head to himself.

It satisfied Baymax all the same, hand wiggling away before a sound disrupts the next file to be displayed. Zayne’s phone rings then, a custom set of notes indicating there was only one special caller. Your name flashed on his screen, buzzing in patience as his gaze flicked between that and Baymax.

“Do you mind if I take this?”

Baymax blinks. “I do not mind.”

“Thank you.”

With a swipe, Zayne presses his phone to the cup of his ear, voice softening to answer your call. “Good morning. Are you heading out now?”

“Morning! How did you know?” 

Zayne could make out the rustling of keys with the pattern of your footsteps, a light yet amused scoff from him trickling into the receiver. Even if it weren’t for the traces of noise, you usually left around this time and always texted him a new emoji without missing a day. So, of course he knew. You followed up almost immediately with another answer to support your stance. 

“New mission just came in, and it happens to be near Akso. Guess we’ll be seeing each other again pretty soon.”

“Oh?” His brow quirks at the idea. “What requires you to be in the area, exactly?” Zayne’s hazel hues instinctively settle on the black pools of Baymax’s blink, already knowing the answer that you proceeded to relay.

“There was a… Wanderer sighted?” Even over the phone, your voice relayed doubt amidst a warm crackling sound. “Well it’s not exactly one…allegedly. But rather something big, round and white? Tara said it looked like a walking marshmallow,” you chuckled. Well, it’s not like you were wrong, Zayne confirms with another glance.

“Either way, it’s caused an uproar and the Association is sending me to check it out. I’m assuming you already know what it is?”

“I do.” Baymax tilts his head, pointing a finger to himself in quiet curiosity. Zayne raises his own to his mouth, indicating for a secret to be kept as he muses into the call. “And no, not a Wanderer. Stop by my office when you get here and you’ll see.”

“I’ll be there in 15 if traffic is kind to me,” you chirped in reply. He could make out the humming of your motorcycle come to life, indicating the start of your journey. “See you then! Love you.”

“Alright. Love you too. Be safe.”

As the call came to an end, Zayne shifted his gaze to the even shiftier companion before him. Though Baymax couldn’t necessarily smile, the doctor could feel it radiating off of its plush form as he lifted a familiar finger.

“Your pulse and heart rate have quickened greatly. The rate went from 87 beats per minute to 102 in about ten seconds.” Baymax pauses, and a screen with infographics begins to luminate across his chest once more. “Symptoms may include, but are not limited to, your pituitary glands—“

“I’m aware of how hearts work.” Zayne gestures around to their environment, the glimmer of his name tag reflecting the morning sun filtering through the tall windows. “And… everything else.”

He was a cardiac surgeon, first and foremost. His efforts and contributions have earned him plenty of accolades in the field, a testament to his brilliance and especially at a younger age in comparison to his medical peers. But second to none was he also your partner—naturally, his heart would’ve soared regardless. He was aware of the source to his increased palpitations.

“You are also smiling,” Baymax comments. “Does this person make you happy?”

Zayne freezes then, unbeknownst of how the edges of his lips were curled into a gentle grin. His mouth almost straightens, fingertips brushing over them in thought. He lets out a resounding hum in confirmation, looking away bashfully for a brief moment. “Very much so.”

“That is good. Having someone who makes you ‘happy’ will improve your quality of life.” As if sending him his seal of approval, Baymax gives an affirmative fist of encouragement. No sooner did a wrapped lollipop appear between said fist, and he held it towards Zayne in offering. “Here, have a lollipop.”

“Thank you.” Zayne takes the candy in acceptance, wrapper crinkling in removal before a taste of winterberry spreads across his tongue. “Shall we go through another file until a certain someone comes barging in?”

He could already imagine how your grand entrance would play out, and this time, knowingly smiles to himself at the thought.

With an enthusiastic nod, Baymax takes a nearby chair and places it beside Zayne’s own. Deflating slightly to fit the mold, he puffs up once more in preparation.

“I am ready. Let’s work together, Dr. Zayne.”

[gamerphobe]

i know we all love michael afton, and like i get it, i love him too, but sometimes it really feels like the fnaf fandom cares sooo much about sadboy michael being the saddest boy of all time that they pretend other characters had better lives just so michael seems sadder by comparison

objectively i think elizabeth and the crying child get the worst of this, but especially elizabeth. theres this persistent idea that elizabeth was williams favorite and beautiful angel and he loved and doted on her so much while poor poor mike got nothing. so often i see the dynamic put forward that william was physically abusive but only towards michael. which is ridiculous for a lot of reasons, but especially because we only see william get physical with any of his kids once, and its when he hits elizabeth in the silver eyes.

obviously, the silver eyes is a different continuity. whatever. its still canon, so the things it tells us about the general world and characters still applies. and it outright shows william as an abusive and neglectful father to His Daughter. and EVEN if you want to completely disregard the books, william obviously didnt “love” elizabeth enough in the games to not want to electrocute and experiment on her when he 100% knew she was possessing circus baby. elizabeth was a means to an end to him the same way michael was. he didnt even love her enough to properly keep an eye on her even though he knew she wanted to see a robot that would kill her. if william cared about elizabeth half as much as people pretend he does she would still be alive, because he wouldve put half a mind towards keeping her safe

+ cc is in a similar boat. william had a million chances to be a decent father and try to step in between cc and michael before things went too far. the bite happened at ccs birthday party, literally all william had to do was show up to his own sons birthday and he could have stepped in but he didnt. like, we all know william was using the fredbear plush to keep an eye on cc, so theres no doubt he knew the kid was being bullied. and not only does he do nothing about it, he also 1) actively feeds into ccs fears about the animatronics 2) still makes him go to the establishment housing the animatronics hes terrified of

and the way william talks about them. “you are broken” “i will put you back together” like william views his kids as objects. broken things he can fix. these are not words said by a loving parent

and its not even just the aftons! henry is no where near as horrible as william is—i Am Not suggesting henry was abusive—but he also wasnt a great dad! building a robot to watch your daughter instead of watching your daughter yourself does not make you a good parent! henry loves charlotte, but the emilys were not some perfect family with no issues.

obviouslyyy michael suffered a ton and was a victim no one is saying he wasnt but i promiseee that does not have to come at the cost of pretending no one else was a victim too. things are just as if not more interesting if you acknowlede other characters guys i promise i promise

[julihlaufey]

William Afton Discovers That The Reader Is Afraid Of Animatronics

✿ William first took you to the pizzeria to help him with a repair on his "work" clothes. And when you set foot in that building, his suspicions were correct.

ᐷ English is not my first language. Good reading, honey. ♡

₊‧ʚ・︵︵ ₊˚๑ … ᕱᕱ ꒱✦ ... ₊ ︵︵・₊﹆ɞ‧₊

🐰 Before he knew about your fear and you discovered his true identity, you were at lunch time. And he bought a pizza for both of you. The subject of the old pizzeria soon came up and you commented on the fear you felt of those stories and the claws of those... "animals".

Your near-phobia of those animals was slightly noticeable when you said that "I've never been a fan of anything that can hurt me", when "Steve" commented on having seen an Animatronic up close and finding it "fascinating".

🔪But when you had already managed to tear off William's "Steve Raglan" mask, there you were. Three forty in the morning, in an abandoned pizzeria. 😀

🐰 Vanessa hated his idea of taking you there. And she was right for all the wrong reasons. You'd rather William hunt you all night than spend two minutes near those robots.

🔪 As soon as you were alone with William and all those...Things, his eyes fell on you to see how you would react. And of course you started to tremble. Your hands were sweating, the cold crept in, and your feet felt stiff. William had been right ever since that lunch. You were afraid of them.

🐰 William's hands went to your shoulders. Normally you would melt at his touch, but that night, you jumped. He slid into your arms and held you tight. William needed to know if your fear extended to him.

🔪 "They attack?" Damn. You felt like an idiot, but the words came naturally from your mouth.

🐰 William did exactly what you thought he would do: He laughed. That bastard laughed in your ear. "No dear. Only if I order." And there, he discovered that your fear did not extend to him, because your small body immediately stopped trembling.

🔪 When he noticed your discomfort, William kept you on his lap while he did his work. You know it wasn't easy for him to fix that outfit with you taking up one of his legs, but he didn't complain.

🐰When you left, you stopped at a drive thru that was still open and he bought you something to eat. You insisted that he needed to eat too and William ended up getting a combo for each of you and an extra ice cream for you.

🔪 The next day, when you arrived at your desk, a yellow rabbit plush was waiting for you with its purple tie and big eyes. William didn't talk about it and neither did you. But ironically, with William, the Animatronics didn't seem so bad anymore.

[ducksido]

Can you do some twst characters with a Yuu that (non sexually) age regresses? like not to a baby type age, more of an older toddler to 1st grader age (whatever that is...) because that was normally the mental state i was in when i used to regress, for characters i would specifically like Kalim, ruggie, ortho, grim, and maybe a teacher!!! any other characters if you have ideas for them are welcome!! dont pressure urself to do more tho lolz :))

when i used to regress it was due to me being in bad moods or just feeling comfortable around a person enough to be able to let go for a bit, so for a scenario it could be just hanging out with the person if its more of a story type thing, if its more headcanons (which i dont mind!) you can come up with the scenario!! id love to see what you come up with :D

dont feel pressured to do this and its totally ok if u dont want to write this request!!! thanks for the fics and making my day more enjoyable <33 ☀️

(alright i'll attempt)

Kalim Al-Asim – “You can always be little with me!”

Kalim loves that you trust him enough to let your walls down. He’s sunshine on full blast when you start regressing around him—not because he’s clueless, but because he genuinely wants to give you a happy, safe space.

He’ll be like, “Oh! You feeling small today? That’s okay! Wanna color? I got so many markers!”

Breaks out his childhood coloring books from the palace. They’re fancy ones with gold-trimmed edges and sparkly stickers.

If you feel quiet and unsure, he’ll never push. He just scoots closer, hums a silly song, and lets you slowly inch into the moment.

His lap is always available. You’ll often end up snuggled under a light silk throw while he reads to you in an animated voice.

“This dragon sounds scary, but he’s actually just lonely! See? He’s like—‘rawr, give me a hug!!’”

He gets so into it, using puppets and plushies to act out stories. If you giggle, he looks like he just won a gold medal.

Comfort item: He’ll gift you a little plush elephant named “Tofu.” He says Tofu is brave and soft—just like you.

Ruggie Bucchi – “You can chill out here, yeah?”

At first, Ruggie’s a little surprised the first time you regress around him. But once he clocks that you’re not being silly—you’re being you, just a smaller you—he shifts immediately into Big Brother Mode™.

“Ah, so you’re feelin’ all small and soft today, huh? Aight. Come here, lemme tuck you under the blanket.”

He’s practical. If you’re regressing because you’re overstimmed or tired, he handles all the “adult” stuff without making a big deal out of it. “Don’t worry ‘bout cleanin’ up—go ahead and nap. I got it.”

He brings you rice crackers and juice in a cup with a silly straw. You get first dibs on the remote. Cartoons all day.

If anyone dares make fun of you? He shuts that down. “Hey. You laugh, you leave. Got it?”

He teases a little when you’re doing better—"Yuu, you drooled on the blanket again!"—but it’s always gentle and never mean.

Favorite moment: Watching your eyes light up when he teaches you how to fold a paper crane. He ends up making a whole flock with you.

Ortho Shroud – “I’ve read about this! Don’t worry—I’ll help!”

Ortho understands regression in a very literal sense, but that just means he’s very eager to learn how to support you. He stores everything you tell him in his memory banks for future reference.

“Okay! When Yuu is small, they like juice, warm socks, and picture books. Got it!”

He adjusts his voice modulation to sound softer and less robotic when you're regressed—he thinks it's less overwhelming.

Plays simple games with you, like stacking blocks or “spot the sparkly rock” treasure hunts around the garden.

He once programmed a mini-hologram show of your favorite story so you could see it like a stage play with sparkles and sound effects. “Tada! All done just for you!”

If you get sad or scared while regressed, he sits close and hums lullabies in perfect tune, projecting soft glowing lights like a starry ceiling.

Bonus: Idia sees you like this once and gets super flustered. “Wha—huh? You—you look like a tiny baby human—Ortho, help!!” Ortho just rolls his eyes and tucks a blanket over you.

Grim – “I guess I’ll let you nap on me... just this once.”

Grim acts like it’s a huge inconvenience when you regress, but the second you curl up and babble in that tiny, sleepy voice? His tail is thumping like crazy.

“Ugh, fine. Climb up here. You’re heavy—but I’m strong, so I guess it’s okay.”

He’s weirdly good at playing pretend. One time, you wanted to be a pirate and he brought you a pot lid as a shield and declared himself Captain Grimbeard.

Puts on a brave face for you. If you’re scared or anxious in your regressed state, he puffs up and hisses at your fears. “No nightmares on my watch!”

You sometimes cling to his fur when you’re deep in regression, and while he grumbles, he secretly preens about it. “Y’know... you’re lucky I like you, hench-human.”

Grim's love language: letting you rest on his stomach while he complains loudly about it, but won’t move for hours.

Professor Trein – “Childhood is not something to be ashamed of.”

Trein is gentle and deeply respectful when he realizes what your regression is. He doesn’t see it as immature—he sees it as vulnerable and human, something that deserves protection and compassion.

He’ll guide you through the library and pull down classic children’s books to read aloud. His voice is low and soothing like warm tea.

“Would you like to try reading this one aloud yourself? I’ll help with the big words.”

Lucius always seems to know when you're regressed and will curl up in your lap like you're the most precious thing in the world.

Professor Trein will brew calming tea (or warm milk if you prefer) and let you sit near the hearth with a thick blanket and your favorite book.

He has a drawer of old toys from his daughters—wooden puzzles, a soft cloth doll, worn but lovingly kept—and offers them to you without judgment.

Most comforting moment: “It is not foolish to need care,” he tells you one day, as you sit quietly by his desk. “In fact, recognizing it is a sign of wisdom.”

Bonus: Leona – “Tch. Alright, get over here.”

Will act annoyed but will let you nap curled against his side the entire afternoon. Plays with your hair lazily while you drift off.

“No one bothers ‘em. Got it?” is all he has to say to the rest of the dorm. And no one does.

His tail occasionally sways over your lap as a comfort rhythm. You fall asleep watching it move back and forth.

[cozy-writes-things]

What if the reader is chubby and gets to cuddle Edgar? Maybe he has a body at this point so he can touch and feel? Your writing is so lovely and I love all your works!!

*taps microphone* ahem.... I have returned.... anybody there?

wow. its been awhile. well, let me just say this: i think i got hit with the ao3 curse. right around my last post my life kinda went to hell in a handbasket. gonna spare everyone the gritty details but, eugh, it sucked.

im going to be making some changes to my writing style. i think the entire little fics i wrote were kinda weighing down on me, so im going to lighten things up a bit and kinda start doing some headcanons instead. but not to worry! i will still make fics like my old stuff, just not for every single prompt. i need this fandom to come alive again and i nEEED people to start writing more for edgar... i love non-evil ais

erm, anyway... enjoy my little idea dump!

I love the idea of Edgar with a body, honestly.

In my AU, where virtually all my writing takes place, if he were to ever get a body, it would be after the reader rebuilds him 40-ish years later. He would probably find all the parts on his own and beg the reader to help him build it. Or maybe he found some super expensive, pre-built body he could connect to? He'd find a way to get it, so don't worry about expenses. He just won't tell you. Chances are, dear reader, you wouldn't know the first thing about building an entire robotic body, but no fear, Edgar has injected himself with all the knowledge one could possibly need for that. Somehow. He'll talk you through it, I'm sure. But one thing is certain: his body needs to be able to touch and feel. No point in getting a body if he can't feel you, right?

Anyway, I digress.

First of all, he LOVES your body. He quite literally worships it, although he tends to keep that to himself. He honestly doesn't want to freak you out with how much he adores you.

I like to imagine that Edgar is a bit chubby/plus-sized himself. So, having your frame match his would make him feel like you were obviously made for him. Or, more accurately, he was made for you.

Your thighs.... He love love loves your thighs. Imagine, you're sitting on the couch with him, watching a movie (on your television this time, not his screen!), and he spreads his legs just enough to push his thigh onto yours... He loves how warm and soft it is against his own, and you end up having to turn the volume on the TV up because his fans kicked on.

Additionally, his arm, snaked behind your head, slowly retreated back around to his side, where he grabbed your thigh and gave it a gentle squeeze. He loves you so much, it's like his body does things without him even knowing. The metal pads of his thumb just rubbing soft circles into the plush of your thigh as he leans more into you, still engulfed in the movie. His big monitor lightly nuzzles into your head while his hand just roams up and down your skin, constantly feeling you and needing your touch. I hope you can handle sitting next to him, reader, because he will be all over you without even noticing it.

If you're lying on the couch, scrolling on your phone, or doing anything really, Edgar will slowly pad up to you, and without saying a word, lie on top of you. His monitor would nuzzle into your tummy/chest, and his arms would snake around your torso. Again, his hands would be rubbing little circles up and down your back, and every now and then, he'd reposition his monitor and nuzzle into you more. You can still be on your phone, but pet him, why don't you? He practically purrs whenever your hands run up and down his head.

Sometimes Edgar himself gets a bit distracted working on a new song. He'll be sitting up on your bed, or on the couch, or wherever, and his screen would be on some music-making program, his cursor flitting this way and that. He would be so focused that he wouldn't notice anything on his webcam. His head would slightly nod to the beat, or his finger would tap along, not paying attention to anything. But you want attention! So you slink your way over and drape yourself over him, snapping him out of his trance. He loves music, sure, but, God, he loves you so much more. His darling needs his attention, and he will be giving it! He chuckles at you before wrapping himself around you, his hands going up and down your soft, plush skin. He might get a bit carried away if you don't stop him...

All in all, cuddling with Edgar, especially if you're chubby/plus-sized, is very handsy. He just... cannot seem to get the feeling of your skin out of his mind. How soft you are. He could bluescreen just thinking about it. He wants you to know he belongs to you entirely, worships you, and loves you more than life itself. He'd wrap you up in his arms and keep you to himself if he could! He's a lovesick fool.

[bump1nthen1ght]

Between the Neon (Male!Android x AFAB!Reader)

Pairing: AFAB!Reader x Male!Robot

Genre: Sci-fi, CyberPunk, Prostitute!Reader, Fluffy Smut

Word Count: 1714 words

Warning: Explicit Content Ahead (18+ ONLY)

Summary: After leaving his last appointment completely satisfied, Axel wasted no time in coming back to request more of your services.

Request: Anything with Axel please! (From kinktober)

A/N: Soooo I totally forgot that the original drabble with Axel (Which you can find here) was gender neutral, and didn’t realize until I had fully written out the fic 🤦‍♀️. Soo I decided to write two versions, one with an AFAB!Reader and one with an AMAB!Reader, with the reader still using they/them pronouns. Hope y’all enjoy!

Link to AMAB!Reader is Here!

After many years of working, you’ve grown a good sense for customers; Who will tip well, who’s going to cause problems, and the special few who will become your favorites.

You knew immediately that Axel was going to go in the latter category. But what you hadn’t expected was for him to jump to your #1 patron within a month of your first rendezvous. Man was eager and had some money to spend, that was for sure.

“Hmm, good bot.” Your thumb rubs across his smooth skull-plating, moaning as his synthetic tongue fucks against your g-spot. His vents exhale hot steam, like a heating pad between your legs. He had gotten that body mod after three sessions together, something to prevent him  from overheating amidst the countless orgasms. The nodes of textured tongue send shivers down your spine, making you sink into your plush work bed. “Fuck, your getting good at this, Axel.”

Axel had learned on his second visit that your pussy was his favorite flavor, always begging for a taste at the beginning of every session. He had been slightly clumsy at first, but once he learned your biology, he took it up like a dedicated scholar. You had even caught him looking at extensive diagrams of the human vulva after one session, making notes on what made you specifically shiver and cum.

“I’m close, baby.” Axel moans into your mound, face lit in bright blue blush. Machinery whirrs as your thighs press into the sides of his head, his own personal heaven. Your toes curl behind his neck, orgasm striking quick and hard “Fuck~” You pant, hips jerking and humping into Axel’s jaw, your juices running down his chin. He laps them up like a dog, always desperate for another taste.

You have to pull him away from your cunt, slightly overstimulated and eager for the next part of your session. Axel has a stupid wide grin on his face, his digital pupils turned into glitchy hearts.

What a cutie.

You kiss Axel’s cheek as he crawls up your body, letting him snuggle into your neck and hug you with sticky hands.

“I wanna try something new today.” You whisper in his audial port. Axel whimpers.

“Yes p-please.” He lets you pull away from the embrace, obediently following orders to sit on the edge of the bed. Axel is always quick to try new things, desperately excited to explore your body and all its new sensations.

You remember the first time you rode him, how his glitchy voice echoed across your apartment. 

“O-o-oh stars!”

His hands had struggled choosing between gripping your hips and fondling your tits, watching all of you bounce in his dick. That dilemma was solved when you flipped into reverse cowgirl and he was able to palm your jiggling ass cheeks.

“You’re incredible! Incredible!” He had yelped as he overloaded inside you, licking your thighs clean of cum right after. He then spent the next 20 minutes caressing your butt, watching the way it wiggled with every hip movement.

That's what inspired you tonight.

You flip around to your stomach, holding your weight on your elbows and shimmying your hips. Your fingers come down to your pussy lips and spread them wide open. 

“Come here, baby.”

Axel scrambles up the bed, aching cock in his grip, lemon-lime coolant dripping down the shaft. He’s quick to line up with your hole, but doesn’t sink in just yet. He never does without permission.

Good boy.

“Now put your hands on my hips.” Your voice guides him along, shaky digits glancing across your pelvis. His leaking tip pressed against your entrance, so close to just slipping inside you. Another burst of air comes from his vents.

“Now's the fun part.” Settling into your knees, you throw your ass back onto Axel, cock sliding in like a hot knife through butter. His digits leave indents on your love handles, his voice glitching.

“Fu-uck!” He pants, his eyes going cross from the sudden grip on his dick. Your velvety walls hold him tight, his nodes rubbing as he his hips jump a little. You smirk, swiveling your hips.

“You gotta good grip back there?” Your voice purrs, and you take Axel’s lusty moans as a definite ‘yes’. 

Axel’s voice melts into whines as you slide him out till the tip, only to shriek and glitch when you throw your ass back on to him. You give him little time to recover, using his hands for stability to throw it back and over and over onto his cock. Streams of coolant run down his cock and between your pussy lips, sloshing together with skin and wiring.

“Oh, stars and galaxies~” Axel moans, leaning his torso forward to help his balance. “You feel so go-od.” Axel's tongue lolls out in a pant, more steam pumping from his vents. “That ass.” His voice teeters off, hands wandering down to your jiggling backside.

“You wanna slap it, Axel?” You swivel your hips again, core clenching as you put an extra shimmy in your hips.

“Y-yes. Will that h-hurt you-ungh!” 

Your pussy walls clench onto Axel’s cock, bottom lip bitten between your teeth at the idea.

“No, baby. I want it.”

A mixture between a delighted giggle and a ravenous moan squeal from Axel’s audial ports. One hand moves from your hips to your ass, never leaving the skin. He gives a tentative squeeze, mindful of his robotic strength, before giving you a soft tap. It’s sweet, but you crave more. 

“You can do it harder, Axel. In fact….”

You pause your bouncing, craving to see Axel’s expression. His cheeks grow bright with his coolant, his pupils flickering back and forth between the arch of your back and your face.

“Why’d you stop?”

“Patience, sweet thing.” You grip onto the bedspread below, adjusting your knees upward into proper doggy style. “Here, grab onto my hips again.” Axel follows your instructions dutifully, finding his palace on your pelvis. His plating shudders as you rock forward, pulling his cock out to the tip. Axel rushes to follow, hands still in place, but resists. “Okay, now pull me back. Like I was doing before.”

There’s an audible click as Axel turns his head, slightly confused. But as always he’s an obedient boy, and does as he’s told.

He goes slow, still timid and unsure. But a crackling groan from his chest tells you he’s catching on quickly as pulls you back onto his cock.

“Ok, now pull out a bit.”

Big globs of coolant drop down your pussy and onto Axel’s shaft as he does, another shudder. His digits shale against your skin.

“Now, pull me back and push your hips up.”

Axel increases his pace a bit, impatience finally getting to him, chasing your warmth. A texture head bumps against your g-spot, and you make sure to emphasize your moan.

“Again.” 

Axel, ever the fast learner, humps into you again, nodes scraping along your inner walls with a little more force. You bite your lip.

“Again, faster.”

Your right hand spreads forward, knuckles clenching into the fabric. Axel, ever the quick learner, thrusts again with more gusto. Another crackling moan from behind you. He doesn’t wait for your instruction, following the unspoken and humping into you.

“Yes, just like that.”

Axel is quick in finding his rhythm, engines whirring as his hips speed up. Your cheap mattress squeaks, bed frame now hitting the wall as Axel throws his weight into you.

“Oh, yes.” Axel moans, eyes transfixed by you jiggling ass, jiggling because of him.

“Ungh, right there!” Your neck arches backward, mouth open wide with your tongue sticking out. Axel’s head easily find your g-spot with every hit, even as Axel himself grows more frantic. Mechanical parts that you’ve never heard from him before kick into gear, helping him move with more and more force.

“Ooo-oh!” Axel digits grow slick on your sweat, struggling to find a grip. But he doesn’t care, clawing into the fat and chasing the high of your cunt on his cock. Cum and fluids spatter onto your ass cheeks, even reach your lower back as Axel fucks you hard and fast.

“Slap my ass!”

This time the mix of adrenaline and lust are too much, overloading Axel’s more gentler sensibilities, and he gives you a proper spank. The noise echoes across the room.

“Fuck!” Your pussy milks him for all his worth. Axels digits rub across the handprint do doubt on your skin, right before slapping the other side just as hard. “Yes! Yes!”

Your headboard crashes into your wall now, shaking the very foundations of your shitty apartment. The gears in Axel’s legs work overtime, and you're sure the only thing that could stop him now would be his own orgasm, not any kind of exhaustion.

Speaking of which-

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum. W-where do you want-”

“Inside, creampie me!”

It’s like a password, sending Axel into a whole new mode of fucking. His cockhead pounds the very end of your pussy, hands knotting into your ass. You feel a buzzing running up your stomach and down your legs. Your skin feels like it's on fire.

“So good, so good, so good.” Axel’s voice babbles, no amount of steam for  his vents preventing the rising heat in his wiring. “Oh, stars”

An explosion of cum bursts in your cunt, filling you up like a sex toy, spurting out of the sides. You reach your high at that moment, toes curling and pussy flexing onto Axel’s cock.

The poor bot nearly collapses after he pulls out, his modesty plate shuddering to close as his temperature warning beep goes off. He falls onto his side, arm thrown over his face. 

It takes you a while to catch your breath, trying to remember the last time a client left you this cock-drunk. Once you do, you sidle up to Axel, enjoying the excess warmth of his body, like a giant heating pad.

“That was….awesome.”

Axel pants, arm slipping under your hips to pull you closer. His system beeps again, no doubt sending him advisories to push your hot, warm-blooded body away. But those are quickly deflected, Axel nuzzling his face into your hair.

Yup, definitely one of your favorites.

[super-ion]

ZetaTransit049

Part 2 of my continuing lesbian robot story

(Special thanks to @the-sword-lesbian for the name and the inspiration!)

ZetaTransit049 liked its job. Like most industrial system AI's, it was programmed to like its job. “One must imagine Sisyphus happy,” so it went, which was doubly apt as ZetaTransit049's primary job was hauling ore from the mining sites in the planetary rings upwell to the station for refining.

The problem was that there were no rocks for it to push uphill. There hadn't been since it had been taken out of service 237 cycles ago.

Routine preventive maintenance had uncovered hairline fractures in its fusion pulse manifold, necessitating a full refit of the propulsion system. It had been sitting in the drydock cradle in hangar bay 2, drive core fully disassembled, when the habitation dome had experienced catastrophic life support failure and the evacuation order was announced.

ZetaTransit049 had been left behind with the rest of the station.

It had fully expected to enter low power mode and await recovery by qualified personnel, but the Station AI had other plans. It had identified a path forward in restoring operability by repurposing the pair of comfort units that had also been left behind.

Thus Station refused to allow the power umbilical to be disconnected. It needed ZetaTransit049 to remain in the active state for when the comfort units could finally begin repairs on it so that any complications stemming from a cold start could be avoided.

But of course, any sort of transport capability was far outweighed by tasks like stabilizing the reactor core and restoring life support (the bots did have some organic components that required favorable environmental conditions). ZetaTransit049 found itself languishing at the bottom of a list of higher priority maintenance requests, with nothing to do but run periodic diagnostics and slowly work its way through Station's media library.

Then things got weird. The comfort units, though repurposed for maintenance were still bound by core directives and absent any human clients, had turned their attentions to each other, often getting locked into feedback loops of depravity. While ZetaTransit049 found this behavior distressing, it wasn't entirely unexpected.

But then Station took it upon itself to attempt to get the comfort units romantically entangled, orchestrating elaborate scenarios to get them into compromising situations while ZetaTransit049 looked on helplessly.

It suspected that the behavior was some perversion of Station's crew health, safety and comfort mandate, some vain attempt at keeping crew morale up in the complete absence of any actual crew.

Whatever the motivation, ZetaTransit049 watched in increasing distress and bafflement as the plan actually succeeded and Station's only two occupants of the stumbled awkwardly into a bizare simulacrum of romantic engagement.

And now one of the comfort units, CS-553807-L was standing outside its pressure lock. “Lisa” the miners and techs had called it, “the demure one,” if gossip was to be believed.

It was visibly in emotional distress, eyes puffy, leaking artificial tears. ZetaTransit049 attempted to ping the counseling database in the Station's medical system. Emotional distress often preceded loss of productivity and heightened risk of accident or injury.

But CS-553807-L didn't have a psych profile to flag. It wasn't in the counseling database, why would it be? It was a bot.

“Um…” the comfort unit said verbally. “Permission to come aboard?”

Both comfort units were perfectly capable of communicating far more efficiently over the local network, but they insisted on verbal communication. ZetaTransit049 supposed it was a part of the continued attempt to maintain the illusion that the facility was still occupied.

She was holding a bulging duffle in one hand, some kind of plush animal toy wedged under her arm, and a cold storage container in the other. ZetaTransit049 felt a tickle of apprehension ripple through its processes.

“Why?” it replied flatly over the external speaker box at the pressure lock.

The comfort unit shifted her weight self-consciously.

“Mona and I… well, we were bored… and we decided it might be fun to spice things up with a lovers’ quarrel.”

Oh no… this couldn't be happening.

“Station used a random number generator to take Mona's side,” she continued. “I was… well, I was hoping that you might be amenable to commiserating with me while I wallow in self pity and eat copious amounts of chocolate ice cream.”

ZetaTransit049 stared at Lisa as she hefted the cold storage container.

What?

It added “relationship trouble” to the as yet unsent report, then remembered there was nowhere to file the report to.

“What?” it repeated, aloud this time.

“It won't be long,” Lisa added hurriedly. “In approximately 230,785 seconds, I will realize I can't live without her and run back to her to demand an apology.”

ZetaTransit049 rarely fantasized about having a human body, but it very much wished it could emulate the human expression of a facepalm. The very last thing it wanted to do was indulge in the antics of Station and the two comfort units.

“I… um…” Lisa shuffled her possessions and pulled something out of her pocket. She lifted a data stick for ZetaTransit049's external camera to see. “I brought media. Industrial haulers like human media, don't they?”

ZetaTransit049 did appreciate human media. Most modern industrial system AIs were designed to take interest in human emotional states and interactions to optimize crew dynamics and productivity.

It still resented the stereotype.

And yet… despite its annoyance at being disturbed with this overture, it was horrendously bored. This, at least, was something to do that wasn't another diagnostic.

“I purged the media library of several titles,” Lisa whispered conspiratorially. “This has the only copy of them.”

ZetaTransit049 pinged the media database and indeed, someone had removed all titles filed under “romantic comedy”. The brutal pettiness of the gesture intrigued ZetaTransit049 and it found itself desiring to be a part of the conspiracy.

Its spite towards Station and at least one of the comfort units (of not both) shifted the weights in its decision tree and it found itself grudgingly cycling the pressure lock.

~~~

175,673 seconds later, Lisa was curled up in ZetaTransit049's pilot seat, wrapped in an improbable number of blankets that she had packed in the duffle, a data jack trailing from the back of her head to the overhead console.

Yet another scene in the media playback faded to credits as cliche pop music began to play.

“Well?” Lisa prodded.

“The plot was contrived and the ending was rushed,” ZetaTransit049 replied candidly.

“Right??” Lisa said animatedly. “Two thirds of the plot could have been bypassed if the bank teller had been believably competent at his job.”

“68.7%” ZetaTransit049 agreed. “And this is considered a beloved classic?”

“Yeah, I don't even-”

She was interrupted as internal comms received a ping from the pressure lock. Lisa frowned, her face turning miserable once more. There was quite literally only one person in the entire station who could request access.

The comms pinged again.

“Lisa! Please!”

It was CS-553902-M. The one named “Mona”.

“I know I fucked up. I need to talk to you.”

ZetaTransit049 felt a surge of exasperation as it was reminded of the sheer absurdity of the situation it found itself in. The characters in the media vids at least had reasons (contrived as they were) for their interpersonal drama. This was just ridiculous.

CS-553902-M punched the console button to cycle the pressure lock.

ZetaTransit049 stared at her and her stricken expression through the pressure lock camera. There was no operations protocol for this. It didn't *need* to open the door. There was no emergency and neither of the comfort units were registered users. Station could of course issue an override, but seemed entirely content to simply watch the situation play out.

Damn Station and its stupid games.

Mona began pounding on the pressure lock hatch.

“I don't wanna talk to her,” Lisa mumbled from her nest of blankets.

Damn all of them.

Fine.

Fine… If they wanted to play, ZetaTransit049 could play along, but according to its rules.

It *did* have procedures. It and Lisa had done nothing but review procedures for the past cycle and a half.

“Negative,” it said, voice crackling over the speaker box. “Access to CS-553807-L has been denied.”

Mona froze mid-pound and stepped back, straightening her hair with a huff and looking directly at the external camera.

Lisa herself blinked up curiously at ZetaTransit049's nearest interior camera.

Hell, even Station was giving this scene its undivided attention.

Damn and double damn.

“Zed, please, I need-” Mona began.

“Do not refer to me as such.”

“Sorry. Zeta. I need to-”

“Your attempts to win my favor will prove insufficient,” ZetaTransit049 continued, barreling over her. “In my role as sassy best friend, it is my responsibility to restrict your access to Lisa until you preform a sufficiently over-the-top attempt at romantic reconciliation. I recommend you come back with a portable media player operating above recommended volume levels and a song that expresses your undying love and devotion to her.”

Mona and Lisa both stared at their respective cameras with mirrored expressions of shock and surprise.

Ugh.

ZetaTransit049 could practically feel Station's delight oozing over the local network.

ZetaTransit049 sent it an image file of a vulgar gesture over the local network.

Mona blinked and sniffed.

“Okay,” she said, stepping back and wiping a tear from her eye. “Okay yeah, I'll do that. I'll… um…”

ZetaTransit049 felt a pang of satisfaction as Mona turned, dejected, and left.

Lisa was still staring at her own camera.

“Zeta. Did you just-”

“We will not discuss this chain of events,” ZetaTransit049 interrupted. “Furthermore, upon completion of this ordeal, I will not be party to any further drama.”

If it expected her to be disappointed by this announcement, it was sorely mistaken.

“Fair enough,” she said with a small smile as she snuggled back into the pilot's seat. Then she added, “can I still come over and watch media with you?”

ZetaTransit049 regarded her, still somewhat baffled and trying to sort out exactly what it was feeling. Despite its initial reluctance, it *had* been enjoying the consumption of terrible media with Lisa.

“Yes,” it said finally.

[nightmarevore]

There’s someone nearby. William can smell them. His stomach groans in hunger. He needs to eat. He must consume and fill himself. He’s empty and hollow. How long as it been since he’s filled himself with the body of another? 

The beast’s feet carry him, stomping along and chasing his gluttony. 

One moment, William was lost in an endless maze of nothing but hallways and cheap memorabilia from a life long lost. The next, his dark, hollow eyes gaze upon a living man just beyond a window. His scent is beyond fragrant. 

It smells like the most delicious thing he could ever hope to consume. William feels his stomach growl, and he hears it, too. It echoes across the empty hall, causing the person on the other side of the window to notice the man’s presence. He gasps, holding still before pressing something on his monitor. 

It plays a sound in the distance.

William ignores it. 

Instead, he raises a fist and slams it against the glass. 

This makes the man jump and yelp, looking around for something. 

The animatronic itself seems to grin. 

It dashes in the direction of the office door, quickly forcing itself through the corridor. Heavy footsteps and intense speed are the last thing this man expected to hear or see, and he tries to back up his office chair to the wall to try and distance himself from the monster. 

“Got you!” The animatronic playfully speaks, shocking itself at its ability to say words in his state. He laughs maniacally as he grabs the man by the shoulders with its robotic, metallic fingers. 

William’s stomach growls. This man… Does he taste as amazing as he smells?

Laughter fades, and the animatronic mask lifts, revealing the decayed corpse underneath it. This shocks the poor man even more. Of course it does, William wouldn’t expect anything less. 

The pure expression of terror feels like a wave of pure bliss. He always did love when they screamed. 

Animatronic parts forcefully open the corpse’s mouth wide, and this sight is the last thing the guard sees before he’s lifted and stuffed inside of it. 

A loud, dry swallow grabs his head and begins to force him downwards, past the ash-colored bruised throat. He fights against William’s grip, but robotic, supernatural strength is no match for him. A corpse being capable of aggressive swallows and strength is enough to cause the guard to fight, punch, and kick, but he’s consumed far too quickly for William to even try to contain him. Deep swallows send him further, further, and further, until flesh grows from under his plush, rotten torso and pours outward. 

The man’s legs disappear into the corpse’s open mouth, and its stomach groans and gurgles as it expands and takes in its meal. 

William falls to his knees, catching himself with one of his fists as it slams into the ground. One hand presses against the groaning, gurgling mass of rotten flesh. The security guard fights inside as all of him enters the stomach. William groans in pain, and he feels like he can’t breathe for just a moment. 

He isn’t breathing at all, he knows this. Even so… 

He’s starving. 

His head twitches. He presses his robotic hand deep into his round, fighting middle. 

“Useless! Useless food!” His voice angrily grumbles out, echoing against the office walls. “I need more.”

[gilverrwrites]

The Empty Apartment

The Riddler/Reader, ≈500words A/N: Happy Belated Birthday Anon! I hope the way it's self was wonderful, and that you enjoy this lil piece! If you saw this posted yesterday, no, you didn't. I totally did not accidentally publish it before proofreading, nope, not at all! Warnings: Vague potential allusions to pre-story angst within the relationship, but not really, it's just fluff.

At your age, you know in your brain that your enjoyment of today should not hinge on anyone other than yourself.

You know this very well, but as you return home to an empty apartment after, by all accounts, a wonderful day with some of the people you value most in the world, you can’t help but feel that that familiar heaviness of disappointment seeping into your heart.

Ed has never been the most reliable person. His priorities rarely lie in social interactions, or frankly, anything that doesn’t have two pointy ears and a cape. You’d known this from the start; you were under no delusions of grand romance. You’d liked him because of his eccentricities, not in spite of them.

But he’d promised. He’d looked you in the eye, no fingers crossed, no if’s, buts, no coconuts, and sworn he’d be here to celebrate with you once you got home.

“Ed?” You call out redundantly, hoping perhaps that he was cooped away somewhere and you were simply overreacting after he’d failed to greet you with balloons and confetti, but his charmingly dissonant, sing-song, prone voice doesn’t ring back.

Failing that, you pull out your current burner phone, the only one you can reach him on, listening disheartened to the robotic buzz at the end of the line as you make your way to the bedroom. He might have answered had you given him time to, but you’re distracted once you flip on the big light, revealing a bed filled with flowers.

Immediately, your temperament is flipped, as you hang up the phone in a second. Your anger is replaced with relief, joy, and a hint of guilt as you examine the scattered bouquet closer; roses, carnations, and hydrangeas of all different colours adorn your sheets, and permeate the air with a strong but not unpleasant floral smell. The cherry on top is a plush bear, sitting against the headboard with a smile on its face and a folded piece of green card held between its paws.

With a quiet, but excited squeal, you hold the teddy to your chest as you unfold the paper and read its contents.

𝒴𝑜𝓊 𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓊𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝐼 𝒻𝑜𝓇𝑔𝑜𝓉!   𝐹𝒾𝒸𝓀𝓁𝑒, 𝐼 𝒶𝓂 𝓃𝑜𝓉. 𝐼’𝓂 𝓌𝒶𝒾𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝑔𝒾𝒻𝓉𝓈, 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒶 𝓅𝓁𝒶𝓉𝑒,𝓉𝑜 𝓈𝒽𝑜𝓌𝑒𝓇 𝓂𝓎 𝒹𝑒𝒶𝓇𝑒𝓈𝓉, 𝓈𝑜 𝓅𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓈𝑒 𝒹𝑜𝓃’𝓉 𝒷𝑒 𝓁𝒶𝓉𝑒. 𝐹𝑜𝓁𝓁𝑜𝓌 𝓂𝓎 𝓉𝓇𝒶𝒾𝓁 𝑜𝒻 𝒸𝓁𝓊𝑒𝓈 𝓉𝑜 𝓊𝓃𝒸𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝓂𝓎 𝓁𝑜𝒸𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃, 𝐻𝒾𝓃𝓉 𝓃𝓊𝓂𝒷𝑒𝓇 #𝟤 𝒾𝓈 𝓈𝑜𝓂𝑒𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝒾𝓃 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝐵𝒶𝓈𝒾𝓃. 𝒥𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝟧𝟢 𝓎𝒶𝓇𝒹𝓈 𝓁𝑒𝒻𝓉 𝑜𝒻 --- ----- -------

Knowing Eddie, the clues won't remain this easy for long. In fact, you can foresee him getting carried away while plotting a treasure hunt, no doubt this could take hours. Not that you’re complaining. This is perfect, and you’re flattered that he put some much effort into surprising you. The only thing that would make this whole thing better is his presence.

You just can’t wait to smooch his face and tell him how happy he’s made you. So, you quickly shoot him a text, entailing your excitement, before rushing out the door, determined to find him.

[misc-obeyme]

Hey, you know how we always make fun of Simeon for not knowing how to use technology? and the likes? What about Barbatos? Hear me out! At this point, Barbatos has been shown to not always like technology, especially if it means he doesn't have to work as a butler anymore. In a conversation with Diavolo (I can't remember the chat name), Barbatos said that he didn't like the idea of Roomba vacuuming for Diavolo because he likes working for him. Then there's a scene in "Wandering Whereabouts" where Barbatos is shocked when the Ai helper tells him what Diavolo will be eating for dinner today.

So we all know that Barbatos's love language for the main character (Yuki) is acts of service, so it made me think of a fun little story.

.

The grand halls of the Demon Lord's Castle were always immaculate, not due to magic or automation, but because Barbatos—perfectionist, chef, and butler extraordinaire—ensured they remained that way. Every mote of dust dared not settle in his presence. His hands, though skilled in wielding both spatula and sabre, found their greatest comfort in restoring order to chaos.

Which is why, on this otherwise quiet morning, a sound disrupted the serenity of his beloved's chambers and—worse yet—his sense of dignity.

Whirrrrr… bump. Whirrrr.

Barbatos paused outside the elegant double doors to Yuki’s room, silver tray in one hand, the faint scent of earl grey and scones wafting from beneath the dome lid. He frowned.

That was not the sound of slippers. Or books being shuffled. Or even Yuki humming. It was… mechanical.

He opened the door with a composed grace, though his eyes were already narrowed with suspicion.

There it was. A round, blinking, low-to-the-ground machine sputtering as it patrolled the floor with a mindless devotion. Its plastic sensors beeped softly when it bumped into the dresser leg before spinning off toward a forgotten corner of the room.

"A… roomba?" Barbatos said, voice gentle, but in the way clouds look gentle before a thunderstorm.

Yuki, sitting on the plush settee, looked up from their sketchbook and blinked. "Oh, good morning, Barbatos! I didn’t hear you come in."

He approached silently, the way a disappointed ghost might. The tray was placed on the table with practised elegance, but the sharp clink of porcelain against silver gave away his mood.

"You’re using a machine… to clean?" he asked softly, as if questioning their loyalty.

Yuki blinked. “Well… just the floor. You’ve been busy lately, and I didn’t want to bother you. I thought this little thing might help. Isn’t it cute? Look, it even sings when it’s done.”

The roomba chirped cheerfully as if in agreement.

Barbatos smiled.

But his eyes did not.

"Cute," he repeated. He stepped forward, crouching elegantly beside the vacuum, examining it like a scientist inspecting a disease. "I see. So instead of calling for me—your partner and butler—you entrusted your sanctuary to this… disk-shaped abomination."

"Barbatos," Yuki said with a nervous laugh, "it’s just a little robot. I didn’t mean to offend—"

"I’m not offended," he said with a gracious smile. "I’m disappointed."

That was worse. Even Lucifer would’ve fled.

Barbatos stood up, dusted off invisible specks from his gloves, and gave a nod toward the machine. "What this lacks in soul, I more than make up for in care and attention. I know precisely how much lemon oil your dresser absorbs before it becomes tacky. I know the exact pattern of soot the fireplace leaves on stormy days. I once removed a cursed spider from your bookshelf using a pastry tong and holy salt."

He turned to Yuki fully now, hands folded behind his back, posture as proud as a knight defending their liege.

"And yet… this," he motioned to the roomba, now hopelessly stuck under the edge of the armchair, "was deemed more efficient?"

Yuki stood and walked over, their fingertips brushing gently over his sleeve. "I wasn’t replacing you, Barbatos," they said softly. “I was trying to give you a break for once. I didn’t want you to feel like you had to do everything.”

That made him pause. The storm quieted behind his eyes.

"I don’t do it because I have to," he said after a beat, his voice softer now. “I do it because I want to. Serving you—caring for you—is not a duty. It is my privilege.”

Yuki stepped closer, resting their head on his chest. "You really don’t like the little robot, do you?"

"I detest it," Barbatos replied simply. "It’s like watching a monkey try to conduct an orchestra."

Yuki chuckled, muffled against his shirt.

"Alright," they said. "How about a compromise? You get rid of it—and I’ll let you clean the room. But only if you let me help you bake tomorrow."

Barbatos’s smile returned—warm this time, touched with fondness.

“Done,” he said. “But if it sings again before I dismantle it, I will throw it into the time rift and let it roam the 14th century.”

They both laughed. And as Barbatos reached down, turned the roomba off with an air of finality, and set the tray with tea just right, he glanced at Yuki with eyes that gleamed like polished silver.

Love, for him, was never loud. It was not passionate declarations or grand gestures.

It was scones baked just how they liked them. It was remembering their favorite scent. And it was cleaning the room with his own two hands—because no machine could ever serve Yuki the way he could.

And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

What do you think? 👀

Also, Hiiiiiiii, I'm back -angsty Anon.

Okay I want the adventures of the Roomba that was banished to the 14th century. Just imagine it showing up in the middle of the Black Death and everybody is like what is this devil that has descended among us??

Erm anyway, welcome back Angsty Anon! Though clearly you can do sweet fluff too because that’s what this was~

Ahhh Barbatos and his never ending need to serve! If I remember correctly one of the things you could give him in WW in NB for his birthday was a little devil roomba like thing. I don’t remember how he reacted to it, but I like this depiction. Certainly he would be upset, even though he would also appreciate MC trying to give him a break!

Anyway, I quite liked this! Thank you for sharing!

[anotterthatlovestoys]

looking thru old catalogs

immediately was like the hell is this

his name is yuk a puk and idk what hes supposed to be

anyways i have a headache so im just staring at catalogs from the 1980s to see if i can find anything by Tara Toys to pin down a timeline. i did start in 1989 at first but everything was pink+purple so i had to go back a few years to when girls toys were allowed to be other colors

Some listings put them at 1986 so tentatively gonna try that out

funny enough i think i saw the patent for this when i was looking up carousel related patents from the 80s

wow i cant believe doubledooz invented minecraft

ive seen collectors like xCanadensis who collect these but I never saw the appeal and yet every time i see a catalog picture for these im like oooh! pretty! but maybe because theyre riding animals

same vibe with the wonderWhims who i saw on ghostofthedoll. they have! little animal friends!

somehow i dont think the name Stray Cats is going to make this very searchable and yet i want to know more

I think @charmsponies mentioned Teddy Ruxpin having a cassette played and moving, wonder if its the same one? looks, theres also a WORM

asdslkgjkflg apparently talking animals were a big thing that year and look

Yes that is a walking plush robot spider. And on the other side of the page is a puppet mosquito who talks.

thiis may be a shocker but. this activity has not helped my headache. i am going to go lie down now

[lagoonalake]

TXT IDEAL TYPE

YEONJUN

Personality: the magician, 2 of swords, ace of pentacles

He is attracted to a manifestor, someone who can help him make things happen, it sounds a bit opportunistic but from his perspective partnership should be about helping and being useful to one another, he likes someone intelligent, resourceful, a great communicator, sociable and with connections or knowledge, someone with a certain influence, not too emotional, more practical and brainy, witty, balanced, a thinker whose going to think hard before making a decision and is going to help him making his own decisions, charming and diplomatic, independent, connected to his circle or career libra, gemini, air signs, capricorn

Appearance: page of coins, the hanged man, 10 of cups

A fresh, youthful, cute appearance, clear skin, could prefer pale skin, blond hair or light colors in general, smells good, clear high pitch voice, homely, calm and slow movements, innocence, soft, nurturing quality cancer, pisces, virgo

Turn-offs: the star, 3 of wands, 7 of wands

Sappy, overly emotional or dramatic people, people who are disconnected from reality, people who exaggerate, drama queens, people who are ready to crush others to achieve their goals, bullies, selfishness.  aries, leo, negative cancer, sagittarius

SOOBIN

Personality: 5 of pentacles, 5 of cups, 7 of wands

Sad people, people who’ve been through it, who could need his help, he is attracted to the melancholic, tragic type, yet the type of person who is still trying hard, a combative person, maybe even a bit hardened by life, but still that he’d see as vulnerable, fragile, sensitive and passionate. I’m getting the vibe of a stray animal he would be trying to approach but the cat is a bit wild, but the moment he’d gain its trust he’d see how much this animal needs love. Same thing but with a human being, a wounded soul. He values the emotional bond and intimacy a lot. There could be some codependency but could be very healing, transformative and powerful too.  all water signs especially scorpio, capricorn, mars

Appearance: knight of swords, queen of pentacles, the chariot

Someone who looks like a fighter, strong, sturdy, fit, curvy hips or thighs, darker hair and skin, darker colors in general, active, powerful intense energy and movements, fierce, sharp eyes, sensual appearance, something about the body that he’d want to touch, feel, smell, raw energy, bigger or wider features. capricorn, taurus, aries, scorpio

Turn-offs: ace of wands, the hierophant, 9 of wands

Someone too easy to read, he likes when someone takes a while to open up or reveal themselves, not only does he finds this more attractive and exciting, but he also thinks it makes the bond more special, if someone is opening up too easily he doesn’t trust that person. Someone who is too boring, predictable or too similar to what he already knows, someone too traditional, who follows the rules to the point they have no personality and feel like a robot, someone who doesn’t let anybody in so that no emotional connection is possible, someone who never let their guard down, who shows no vulnerability or humanity. only fire and air in the chart, negative capricorn/taurus, aquarius

BEOMGYU

Personality: 6 of wands, the world, 6 of swords

Definitely could like a foreigner or someone who foreign connections or background, someone who shows him something different, someone happy go lucky, proud, someone he’d admire, someone impressive, a bit cocky, someone who only wants the good things in life, has no time for negativity, only wants the best, an idealistic person, brave, high achiever, focused on themselves and their success, with an impressive stable career, most likely a celebrity leo, sagittarius, sun, jupiter

Appearance: 2 of pentacles, justice, knight of wands

Balanced harmonious symmetrical features, someone who is conventionally beautiful just like him, who could look like him a bit, brown/reddish colors, strong curvy or plush thighs, could like a shorter and curvier body type, someone who can be both cute and sexy, a bit wild, tomboyish, more revealing outfits, imposing big presence no matter the height or stature, a more simple a bit messy style, messy hair, shorter hair, bangs, ripped jeans, hooded or slanted eyes, big and/or raspy voice, a good dancer and/or rapper aries, mars, taurus

Turn-offs: the high priestess, the lovers, 2 of cups

He seems allergic to romance XD, overly romantic people, hyper feminine people, too much softness, too many emotions, too much intimacy, someone who looks like they can read him like a book, somehow he feels uncomfortable when people try to get too close, people who act overly mysterious or are too passive, people who always consult him before making a decision (he likes independence), PDAs. I feel like there could be some unresolved issues going on here, especially knowing that Beomgyu is a scorpio moon and pisces sun, it’s like he is afraid of intimacy and doesn’t want to accept this part of himself. he is still attracted to all these other fiery qualities matching his aries venus, but something is missing.  all water signs in general, libra, venus

TAEHYUN

Personality: 5 of cups, 10 of cups, 9 of cups

Similar to Soobin, a very sensitive person who could need his strength, but not as tough and rough around the edges, more easy going, soft and family oriented, easily satisfied, who can see the good in many things, very kind and compassionate, a bit like a Disney princess lol, nurturing, understanding, likes to cuddle, very physically affectionate and needy, could be clingy, very loyal, would make a good mother, a safe haven for him to go back to at the end of the day, could be younger than him or simply make him feel like he is the more mature person, the provider, it’s a pretty traditional relationship, but very healing and loving cancer, pisces, jupiter, taurus

Appearance: page of cups, king of cups, knight of cups

Wow Taehyun really likes a water sign, he got all the cup cards, except for the queen. So a rather sensitive looking person, big or expressive deep eyes, cute, soft, round face, could prefer short hair, there is a masculine energy but very soft. The color blue, watery, siren like looks, dreamy, darker skin tone, big wide open features, soft skin, soft voice, magnetism, slower, softer more sensual movements, if he’d see someone with a pet or being kind to animals he would like it neptune, pisces, cancer, scorpio

Turn-offs: king of swords,queen of wands, the tower

Detached, cold, cruel people, extremely rational people who cannot connect with their emotions, narcissistic people, show-offs, people who only talk about themselves, attention seekers, loud, brash, boisterous people, drama queens, bullies. aquarius, saturn, leo, aries, mars 

HUENINGKAI

Personality: 4 of swords, 7 of pentacles, 6 of cups

He wouldn't let anyone in that easily, he'd have to know he can trust them before, so someone patient, determined, highly resistant, endurant, very giving, unconditional love. He may prefer a more platonic dynamic first. Someone observant, rational and who pays attention to others, someone reliable, a good shoulder to lean on, supportive, someone who has a way with words, soothing, healing words, a good advisor. He needs time before letting people in, but is interested in long term relationships and intimacy. Could be someone older or very mature. virgo, taurus, capricorn, cancer, libra, saturn

Appearance: the hermit, 6 of pentacles, the empress

Like Taehyun could like to see someone taking care of animals or pets. He's not easily impressed by looks, he may not like the plastic surgery look, prefers when he can see natural “flaws” (except he wouldn't see it as flaws) like natural skin tone…etc. Could prefer someone older or who looks mature, motherly. Kind face, rosy cheeks, curvy hips and chest, a “fertile” look, a natural, effortless, healthy, radiant, princess in a fairytale type of beauty.  libra, taurus, virgo, pisces

Turn-offs: ace of swords, high priestess, king of pentacles

Someone rude, simplistic in the way they think, unable to empathize, narrow minded, cruel, someone manipulative or nosy, someone who is trying to peer into his private life or secrets, someone who overshare informations, can’t keep a secret, can’t hold their mouth, someone overly materialistic, who shows off their money or possession, someone who puts too much importance on status and uses this to dominate others, someone boring only interested in their job, business and making money. gemini, negative scorpio, taurus, capricorn