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Xiaomi Smart Sweeping Robot Mini | Silent Vacuum Cleaner & Mop | 3-in-1 Cleaning Machine for Home
#home cleaning#home cleaner#vaccim cleaner#cleaning robots#silent vacuum#automatic vacuum#sweep and mop robot#sweep robot#mop robot#home gadgets#cleaning gadgets
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GET YOUR VERY OWN TODAY!
eden technologies is not responsible for malfunction which may cause injury to the device owner, AUTOMAMAID product only functions with eden technologies branded appliances of model 7 line or higher, please consult an eden technologies technician via our helpline for questions about installation or repair, unlicensed repair may void warranty
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Well here we are, I’ve finally gotten to the “tech” part of EdenTech, these are Automamaids! Weird, clunky, humanoid robots that only work if everything in your house is also EdenTech… but they load your dishwasher and your washing machine and put cookies in the oven. And uh… uhhhh *checks list* listen it’s 1969 they aren’t gonna have Detroit become human level stuff
I’ll be making more of these sorts of robot desgins later on for like..stuff that EdenTech actually MAKES, also they’re based on some old redesgins I made of “bobbiedots” which are …like my least favorite fnaf animatronics, they’re ugly and a little sexualized and frankly kinda stupid
#Eden!tech#how these work is there’s a terminal attached their their charging docks that can be interacted with to give them a series of commands#it can …sorta sweep? and mop? it’s decent at it but way slower then a human#it can wipe down counters and tables just fine#it was desgined as a cheaper alternative to a human maid so instead of paying a person hourly#you jsut drop 600$ on a robot and it works for the foreseeable future#if not noticeably shitter then a person#not recommend for pet owners it MIGHT run over your cat.#or your kid#or you
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Exploring the Future of Smart Homes with Dreame's Robotic Sweep and Mop
The smart home industry is rapidly evolving, and one of the standout brands in this space is Dreame. Known for their innovative technology, Dreame has made significant strides in the realm of robotic vacuum cleaners. Their latest offering, the robotic sweep and mop, is designed to make home cleaning easier and more efficient than ever.
Imagine coming home to a spotless floor without lifting a finger! Dreame's robotic sweep and mop combines powerful suction with advanced mopping capabilities, ensuring that your floors are not only clean but also sanitized. The intelligent navigation system allows the device to maneuver around furniture and obstacles, providing a thorough clean in every corner of your home.
Users have praised the ease of use and convenience that Dreame's robotic devices bring. With smart app integration, you can schedule cleaning sessions, monitor progress, and even control the device remotely. This level of flexibility fits perfectly into the busy lifestyles of today’s homeowners.
In conclusion, if you’re looking to elevate your smart home experience, consider investing in Dreame's robotic sweep and mop. It’s a fantastic way to embrace technology while enjoying a clean and comfortable living space.
#intelligent navigation#robotic vacuum#sanitization#Dreame#app integration#smart home#cleaning technology#robotic sweep and mop
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Exploring the Benefits of the Dreame Sweep and Mop Robot
In today's busy world, keeping our homes clean can be quite a challenge. Thankfully, the smart home industry has made significant advancements, and one standout product is the Dreame Sweep and Mop Robot. This innovative device is designed to make cleaning effortless and efficient.
The Dreame Sweep and Mop Robot combines powerful suction with mopping capabilities, ensuring that your floors are not only free of dust and debris but also sparkling clean. With its intelligent mapping technology, it navigates your home with ease, avoiding obstacles and ensuring every corner is reached.
Imagine coming home to freshly cleaned floors without lifting a finger! The Dreame Sweep and Mop Robot is perfect for busy individuals and families, providing more time for what truly matters.
If you're considering upgrading your cleaning routine, the Dreame Sweep and Mop Robot is a fantastic choice that brings convenience and cleanliness together seamlessly.
#Dreame Sweep and Mop Robot#suction#mopping#cleaning#intelligent mapping#efficiency#convenience#home automation
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Revitalizing Your Home with Dreame's Robot Mop and Sweep
If you're looking to elevate your home cleaning experience, look no further than Dreame's innovative robot mop and sweep solutions. These smart devices are designed to make your life easier and your home cleaner, all while saving you time and effort.
Dreame’s robot mop and sweep not only efficiently clean your floors but also ensure that every corner of your home shines. With advanced navigation technology, these robots can seamlessly move around furniture and reach areas that traditional cleaning methods often miss.
One of the standout features of Dreame’s robot mop is its ability to switch between sweeping and mopping modes, allowing for a tailored cleaning experience. Whether you have hardwood, tile, or carpet, you can trust that your floors will be treated with care. Plus, the convenience of scheduling cleanings means you can come home to a spotless space without lifting a finger.
Integrating Dreame’s robot mop and sweep into your smart home system is a breeze. With easy app connectivity, you can control your cleaning schedule from anywhere, ensuring your home stays clean even when you're busy.
Embrace the future of home cleaning with Dreame and enjoy more free time to spend on the things you love!
#sweep solutions#advanced navigation#app connectivity#smart devices#home cleaning#cleaning experience#robot mop
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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.
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AGSZC who has the messier room? the cleanest?
Sephiroth and Genesis are the neat freaks of the bunch. Angeal is a compulsive cleaner, Cloud doesn't have a choice but to keep his space clean while he's in the army, and Zack is relatively clean and keeps his space organized....he just has his days. Like the time Angeal said he would inspect Zack's room as soon as he got back from his mission, but the room was no where near ready to be seen by human eyes.
*LOCATION: the land where organization goes do die, a.k.a Zack's bedroom*
Zack: Man, this is bad! Angeal comes back in three hours! How am I gonna get all this cleaned up by then??
Cloud: Relax. It's not even that bad.
Zack: Really?
Cloud: Totally. Lots of people have...a fort made out of pizza boxes, a deflated basketball used as a cereal bowl and....is that—is that a Sephiroth cardboard cutout tucked in your bed??
Zack: Shh, he's sleeping.
Cloud:
Cloud: Okay, there's no other way to do this. You need help.
Zack: I do.
Cloud: Which means we have to bring in experts to get the job done.
Zack: .....oh no....not THEM!
Cloud: Yes, them.
-
*Cloud opens the door*
Cloud: Oh good, you're here.
*Sephiroth and Genesis are standing there with cloths around their heads, surgical masks, yellow gloves, and all the cleaning supplies in the world*
Sephiroth: We heard there was bacterial growth.
Genesis: And uncleanliness.
Sephiroth, holding up his label maker: And objects that need to be organized, labeled and filed.
Genesis: And an opportunity to use my brand new disinfectant.
Zack: Wow, guys, I really appreciate this and all, but it's a heavy job. Are you sure you're willing to help without freaking out?
*They move inside the apartment*
Sephiroth: Nonsense, Zack. No job is too hard when it helps a friend.
Genesis: Yeah, and besides, it can't be that bad.
*Cloud opens the door to hell*
Genesis: OH MY GOD HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE?
Sephiroth: THE Ḅ̂ͬ̐ͪ̑͌A͔̗͚͍͛̈̂̒͟͢͝ͅ_̵̡̰̫ͤͬͧ͟͟C̘̫͌̆ͦͧ͌̓̄̚T̴Ē̡̛͕͈͓̬̮̐ͩ̓̈ͥ͂͆ͧ̓ͫ͜R̵̡̡̳̩̻͍̠͍̫̙̥̗̻͙̼͉ͪ̏̅ͥͭ̈́͛̂̄́ͦ͗͛͂ͧͤ͊̕͡Í̶͕͎̮̩̤͍̹̂ͭͫ͌̀̏̇̇ͮ̇͋̄��̸̬̩̀ͮͪͧ͠͞Á̸̧̢̡̘͈̝͙̻͙̖͍͍̖̉ͮ̕͞ͅ
Zack: YOU SAID YOU WOULDN'T FREAK OUT!
Genesis: We're not freaking out. This is....normal.
Zack: Really?
Sephiroth, walking inside the room: Yes, it's completely fine and healthy to not be able to see your own floor—*Sephiroth trips on broken bongos and face plants into a pile of stuffed animals*
Zack: Hey! My bongos! I was wondering where those went.
Genesis: See? We're organizing things already.
Sephiroth, resurfacing with a cat plushie: I'm taking this one as payment.
-
*Cloud is sweeping the floor next to a pile of dirty laundry. Suddenly the pile moves*
Cloud: ...
*The pile moves more*
Cloud, panicking: ...
*The pile moves towards Cloud*
*Cloud yells and starts beating the pile with his broomstick*
*Cait Sith jumps out of the pile*
Cloud: !?
Cait Sith: Oh-ho-ho!
*Cait Sith sprints away and out of the room, never to be seen again*
Cloud: What the heck??
Zack, coming up behind him: What?
Cloud: A strange, robot cat was in your laundry just now.
*Sephiroth walks up to the pile of laundry and takes it to be washed*
Zack: Cloud! Don't be mean! Sephiroth is only trying to help!
Cloud:
-
*Genesis opens Zack's closet door to clean, a skeleton dressed in a red leather coat and wig falls on top of him*
Genesis: WHY DO YOU HAVE THIS!?
Zack: Leave Skelesis Bonesodos alone. He isn't hurting anybody.
-
*Cloud is laying down spread eagle on a clean part of Zack's floor after Sephiroth mopped it up*
Cloud: This is so nice. I didn't even know you had heated flooring.
Zack: I HAVE HEATED FLOORING?
Cloud: Yeah, why??
*Zack dives under his bed and pulls out a pile of melted marshmallows*
Cloud: What the hell is that??
Zack: It was my marshmallow Stamp statue. Now it's just a pile of mush!
Cloud: Why would even keep that under your bed? You could attract mice.
Zack: Nah, I've never seen them, so I'm probably good.
*Sephiroth crawls out from under Zack's bed*
Sephiroth: You have the most lovely, welcoming mouse family living underneath your bed.
Zack:
-
Sephiroth: We're almost done here. Zack, why don't you and Cloud go get some fresh air while Genesis and I finish up here?
Cloud: Are you sure?
Genesis: Positive. Besides, only I can add the finishing touches. You boys go have fun.
Cloud: Alright! Come on, Cloud, let's go get Angeal.
*They leave*
*Genesis pulls out a box of scented candles*
Sephiroth: You want to put fire in Zack's bedroom?
Genesis: These candles will set the perfect mood with their apple cinnamon scent. Do you have a lighter?
Sephiroth: No.
Genesis: Does Zack have a lighter?
Sephiroth: Angeal confiscated Zack's lighter after he accidentally set his own eyebrows on fire.
Genesis: Rats.
Genesis: I don't have my bangles with me. Why don't you use your materia to light them while I go get my camera? I want to photograph my work.
Sephiroth: Alright.
*Genesis leaves the room*
Sephiroth: Lighting candles with materia sounds unsafe.
Sephiroth:
Sephiroth: Oh well. What could possibly go wrong?
-
*Zack, Cloud and Genesis are walking back inside Zack's apartment, leading Angeal*
Zack: You're gonna be so proud, Angeal! The room looks spotless!
Cloud: And Zack did it all on his own.
Genesis: HUH?
Zack: Yup! All on my own!
Genesis: MOTHER FUC—*Cloud tackles Genesis to the ground before he can spill the beans*
Angeal: I'm proud of you, buddy. You applied yourself and stayed on track. I can't wait to see how your room looks.
Zack: :)
*Angeal opens the door*
*Angeal closes the door*
Angeal: Call the police.
#ff7#ffvii#final fantasy 7#sephiroth#final fantasy vii#genesis rhapsodos#angeal hewley#zack fair#cloud strife#crisis core#ffvii crisis core#ff7 crisis core#storytime
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Hi, please, please, please! I need a premise where Simon finds a pregnancy test in the house he shares with his wife believing it is hers, upset and anxious he asks her for explanations, without giving her the time to give an answer. The test was his girl's sister's ❤️ :')
A Good Father
Ghost x Wife!Reader
Ghost is anxious about being a father.
SFW, Extreme Fluff, Husband!Ghost, Wife!Reader, Comfort, Pregnancy Scares, Domestic, Softness, Vulnerability, Awkward Conversations, Innocent Misunderstandings, I'm reluctant to say there's humor, Scarcely Proofread, Drabble
Personally, I do feel like Ghost would be flustered if he found out his wife was pregnant with his first child. HOWEVER, I don't think he would act rude or distant or cold. Not on purpose. This is how I interpret that I guess. And thank you anon, this was an interesting topic. If you have anymore please don't be shy! ^^
Masterlist
It'd been an accident when he found it, and the kind of accident that could put a man six feet under if you weren't careful.
It was a sunny and rare fall day in which Simon had been let off work before you for once; a welcome change to his usual routine, as he'd been looking forward to surprising you.
He started with the kitchen, knowing it had been one of your least favorite places to clean. He washed and put away the dishes before wiping down the counters, making quick work with sweeping before mopping. In the blink of an eye he'd already straightened up the living room, which made the dining room light work in comparison. All that had remained was the bathroom, your second least favorite room to clean.
When he arrived home and saw you were gone, he'd thought to himself -- What would be a better surprise than coming home to your man and a clean home? It hadn't been as often as he liked where he was given such an opportunity, so he jumped at the chance without question the second the idea popped into his mind.
There hadn't been much to contend with, a few misplaced clothes and some used towels. He'd just begun picking things up when he'd suddenly heard something small clatter against the bathroom tiles. Finally he saw the tiny, long piece of white plastic sitting tucked between the toilet and the counter -- A pregnancy test.
At first glance Simon froze, unsure as to what exactly he was even looking at. It hadn't been every day he was faced with these sorts of things; you'd only recently broken the record for being the longest relationship he's been in. So when he saw it, his mind hadn't wanted to jump to conclusions. Not at first...
...But when he picked it up off the floor and felt the thing in his hands, it was as the whole world had stopped. His brown eyes skimmed over that red plus sign at the corner of the test and reality felt anew. A positive result.
A number of emotions ran through Simon, though none could be more certain than the sudden shakiness to his grip and the tightening of his jaw. A pang of nausea coarsed through him, soon followed by a sudden guilt for that. He must have stood in that bathroom for a solid three minutes before his thoughts had somewhat gathered...
Pregnant. You were pregnant, and you didn't tell him. Why? Had you not planned on keeping it, or were you simply just waiting to break the news to him?
Robotically, naturally, Simon finds himself continuing with what he was doing before, throwing the test away and continuing with cleaning. He hadn't known what else to do really; anything else and he may just storm out and call you about it.
But no, he wouldn't do that. He couldn't. His emotions are just out of sorts now and he's confused. There wouldn't be a point in channeling that confusion into anger and taking it out on you, especially since you're the one with the answers.
The final thing to clean had been the mirror. As Simon began to wipe the glass down, he caught a glimpse of himself in the reflection. There he sees the battered husk he barely recognized at times. A father.
It felt unreal. Both too good to be true and a waking nightmare. He'd always dreamed of being a father some day, perhaps, in a different life which allowed him to be a part of his child's world in the proper way that he had desired. Some parts had been out of spite of his own father, having had some subliminal need to prove to a ghost what a real parent looks like. Other parts of him genuinely longed for a family of his own, and something he could be a part of from the start and see through to the end. To be a father would make him the happiest man alive.
Yet he wasn't ready, not now. Not in ways in which he felt he could really be of any use to you and your child. He feared every bit that could replicate his own childhood into his life today. There had still been so much of himself he'd felt needed to be set right before bringing someone into this world under him. He'd just wanted this moment to be perfect...
Simon didn't bring it up when you got home. Seeing the excitement on your face to see him nearly made him forget about the whole ordeal entirely. But it lingered on his mind like a heavy weight, and you could see it.
You asked him if he was OK, and despite himself he'd told you he was fine, only tired. He'd hoped that perhaps you might bring it up yourself, though you don't, merely continuing about the evening as usual.
Dinner was awkward, mainly do to Simon's stoic behavior, even moreso than usual. He stayed up to watch a movie with you, though he hadn't said much at all during it, forgoing his usual jokes and one-liners.
It hadn't been until you'd crawled into bed next to him that he finally spoke, though it hadn't been what you expected to hear.
"Do you think I'd make a good father?"
The question catches you off guard and you laugh and little, rotating yourself in his arms and resting your chin on his chest to look at him. From there you've felt his fluttering heartbeat dancing anxiously against your palms.
"Of course I do, Si'," you say. "Why?"
He's quiet again. Even in the dark you know those brown eyes are sifting through the room, looking anywhere but where you are. His hands over you shuffle slightly, and he sighs. "I have my doubts sometimes."
"I don't know why," you smile. "You're one of the best men I've ever met. I've always thought you'd make good "dad" material."
Simon can't help but smile. "Is that right?"
"I mean you've already got the dad jokes down," you tease. "What more do you need?"
You both laugh lightly to each other, and Simon feels a warmth grow in him that only you seem able to bring forth. Even when you know something is on his mind, you go out of your way to make him smile first. It's these reasons he loved you.
"Is this your way of saying you're interested in... trying?"
Unsure of what ruse you were playing now, and no longer being able to hold himself back any longer, Simon sits up, signaling to you that this was about to become something much deeper than anticipated.
"No," he says rather coldly. Too blunt for what he'd intended.
"Oh," you say, unable to hide the disappointment in you tone. You then look up to him, confused. "Is something the matter? You've been acting odd since I got home."
"I'm just wondering when you're going to break the news to me."
"The news?"
"Your first step into motherhood."
You pause. "My... what? What are you on about?"
"I found the pregnancy test."
You pause again, audibly making a confused "oop" noise as you tried to figure out what it was your husband was talking about. "Pregnancy test?"
The confusion in your tone now only makes Simon pause. "Yes," he says. "A pregnancy test. A positive pregnancy test."
You're sitting there racking through your brain now, trying to recall when it was you took this said test. Having brought it up, all the thoughts Simon's had little time to sort through can't help but spill from him now.
"I'm not mad," he leads with. "I'm just... I wasn't...
"Oh!" You interject suddenly, a light bulb going off over your head. "That was my sister's!"
"...Wha'?"
"My sister came over this morning. She didn't want our mom to find it so I said she could do it here," you explain, before chuckling. "Though I'm gonna have to yell at her later since can't clean up after herself... Didn't mean to spook you though, love."
Simon sits there silent and frozen, still processing the last minute. "...So you're not pregnant then?"
"No," you laugh. "Not that I know of anyway."
No. He won't be a father after all. If he'd felt his emotions swirling earlier, they've torn into a twister now. He won't be a father.
It disappointed him, despite his reluctance earlier. Had he been looking forward to it more as the day went on? This was for the best, nonetheless. Now at least he could breathe again.
"Fuckin' hell," Simon lets out a heavy sigh, a boulder of stress dropping from his shoulders like a landslide. "Don't scare me like that, love. Y'nearly did me in with that."
You smirk, climbing back onto Simon until your legs were straddling him against the bed. You lean forward, letting your nose brush his and his breath detail his presence to you in the dark. Before you've kissed him, you linger there for a spell, simply marinating in the moment.
"I still think you'd make a wonderful father, Si'."
You feel him sigh, his body sinking comfortably beneath you, as you've felt his callous palms cup your cheeks gently.
"You'd make a beautiful mother."
"I'm still up for trying," you say. "If you think we're ready, I mean..."
Simon pulls you in, until your lips have found his, locking in its familiar ways. Between the soft pecks he'd left, he spoke to you softly, holding you close.
"We're not getting any younger."
(╹◡◠)
#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#ghost x reader#call of duty#modern warfare ii#call of duty modern warfare ii#mwii#mw2022#simon ghost riley#call of duty modern warfare 2#ghost simon riley#simon riley#ghost
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wilmon✨ & "I'll do anything"
here’s a little university!AU that I’ve had in my head since the S1 days haha. again, not even going to pretend this is 5 sentences.
“I’ll do anything,” Simon groans, wiping down the last of the tables as Ayub laughs unhelpfully behind him. He rolls out his shoulders, sore from a long shift of carrying plates and trays. “Seriously, man, he won’t leave me alone. Every time I turn around, he’s right behind me - like take a fucking hint.”
“Is he still sitting next to you in lecture?”
“Yes,” Simon cries, throwing up his hands in frustration. He drops into a chair, watching the rhythmic motions of Ayub sweeping the floor. “Like - the room seats two hundred and there’s barely fifteen of us here - why the fuck do you want to sit right next to me?”
Ayub snorts, “I’m telling you, Simme, he’s into you.”
Simon makes a face, “Don’t start with this shit again. Please.”
“I don’t get why you hate him so much.”
Simon looks at him in deep disbelief. “Are we forgetting the fact that he disappeared during our sociology final last year and I had to present it by myself?” Simon tips his head back, groaning at the embarrassing memory. “I had to retake that class because of him - and he didn’t even fucking apologize.”
“Sara said he had a family emergency,” Ayub points out gently, “remember?”
“Yeah right, that’s just an excuse and you know it.” Simon rolls his eyes, slumping back into the chair in exhaustion, “I’d get it if like - oh I can’t miss work today or else I’m going to get fired and then I can’t pay my rent - but come on. I saw his apartment, bro - mama and papa definitely help him out. No way he’s paying for that place on his own.”
Ayub sighs, setting the broom down and emptying the dustpan in the trash. “Bro, you complain about him all the time - just tell him to get lost.”
It’s a testament to their years of friendship that Simon doesn’t cross the room and strangle him. “So now I can’t even complain?” He snaps, the slow simmer of irritation that’s been building up throughout the dinner rush finally catching up to him.
Ayub’s expression shifts then, his eyes suddenly going wide. “Uh, Simme, you might not want to - ”
Simon gets to his feet, crumpling the rag in his hand as he stalks towards the front. “He’s a fucking trust-fund baby,” he rants, moving to swipe aggressively across the counter. “You really think telling him to fuck off is going to work? Wilhelm is literally the single most insufferable human being I have ever fucking met and - ”
A loud clattering interrupts him, followed by the sound of rapidly shuffling footsteps. When Simon turns around, the first thing he sees is two empty coffee cups on their side, the contents of which are dripping out over the table he’d just finished wiping down. Then, his stomach sinks.
Wilhelm is standing in front of the door, looking adorably windswept in his expensive wool coat. His cheeks are flushed, his expression mortified. “Sorry,” his breathes, voice cracking as he scrambles for a stack of tissues, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to - ”
Thankfully, Ayub is the first speak. “Hey, man, it’s just a spill. don’t worry about it, okay? I’ll take care of it, let me just go grab a mop.”
Simon throws him a panicked look at being left alone, but Ayub only shrugs in return as he makes his way to the back.
“I need a mop,” he tells him simply, shouldering past Simon with a pat on his arm.
Simon watches him go, swallowing tightly. There’s a long moment of deep, uncomfortable silence. Finally, he forces himself to take a deep breath. “We close in four minutes, sorry,” he says, voice thin.
Wilhelm’s head is bowed, eyes trained on the floor. “Yeah,” he mumbles, “I know.”
Guilt churns in Simon’s stomach like acid. “I didn’t mean for you to hear that,” he offers then, “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Wille’s tone is robotic. When his gaze finally flickers up to meet Simon’s, his eyes look like broken glass. “Sorry about the mess.” He runs an awkward hand through his hair, even as the strands tumble back into his face almost immediately “I’ll - I’ll just - ” he jabs a thumb at the door, turning to leave.
Simon’s feet carry him across the room before his mind can catch up with his actions. “Wille, wait,” he begs. “That was - I’m really sorry.”
Wille turns to look at him as he pulls the door open again, backlit by the setting sun. His eyes are dark and sad, “It’s fine, Simon.”
Simon wrings his hand, “We - we open at eleven tomorrow,” he offers nonsensically, “if you come back then - ”
The ghost of an unhappy smile flickers across Wilhelm’s face. “I wasn’t here for a sandwich,” he shoves his hands in his pockets as he leans back against the open door. “I just thought. You’re always drinking flat whites in class. And I thought - that I could, you know, bring you one and we could like - ”
Dimly, Simon thinks he’s going to be sick.
Wille looks away then, blinking rapidly like he’s fighting back tears. “Anyway,” he clears his throat, “I got the message. I’ll leave you alone now,” he steps out onto the street, shooting him a last, small smile. “Have a good night, Simon.”
Simon opens his mouth to say - what exactly he doesn’t know. Maybe he means to apologize once more, to ask Wille to come back inside, to offer to buy him another coffee.
Instead, the door swings shut between them before he can decide and Simon watches through paned glass as Wille’s late evening silhouette disappears out into the crowd.
#ask#young royals#my writing#before you ask yes Wille’s family emergency is Erik’s death#and yes they live happily ever after - eventually
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SEMIFINALS MATCH ONE


"Can’t Help Myself" (2016 - Sun Yuan & Peng Yu) / "NAMES Project AIDS Memorial Quilt" (1985-present)
CAN'T HELP MYSELF: It’s better to watch a video of it in action. It’s a large robot arm that’s only programmed to repeatedly sweep a pool of red liquid around it. But its task is never done, the liquid eventually oozes back out onto the floor. It just makes me so sad, the futility of its work. Brilliantly, the artists even programmed it to do little gestures during its work. Sometimes the arm will shake or almost wave at the audience. So it feels less mechanical, like it has a personality. People have interpreted it to symbolize many ideas. Like the futility of violence, and those who are tasked with the endless recovery and clean up. It could be about worker exploitation, the dehumanization of victims of violence, policing borders. Regardless of what it means, I feel pity whenever I see it. (nicolaleecallahan)
NAMES PROJECT AIDS MEMORIAL QUILT: fucks me up bc so many people died and so many people suffered and their partners didn’t have legal rights as next of kin and so many had been disowned by their parents and had to be held by a stranger while they were dying and if i could resurrect anyone in the world i’d dig up either reagan or thatcher and kill them again (jaskierx)
("Can't Help Myself" is a Kuka industrial robot made of stainless steel and rubber mopping up cellulose ether in coloured water made by two Chinese artists, Sun Yuan & Peng Yu. This installation was displayed in Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum, New York but was removed from display.
The "NAMES Project AIDS Memorial Quilt" is an ongoing community art project honoring people who passed away due to AIDS-related causes. It consists of approximately 50,000 panels of 3 by 6 feet (0.91 m × 1.83 m) panels, which is an estimated 54 tons of material. It is currently housed in San Francisco, but is often displayed in various places in the United States.)
#art that fucks you up tournament#polls#atfyu polls#id in alt text#gonna finally start posting the extra commentaries during this week
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DREAMZZZ SEASON 3 OFFICIAL TRAILER OVERANALYSIS
THE ONE PIECE DREAM SEASON 3 TRAILER OVER ANALYSIS IS REAL!!!
im doing this on my laptop AND this will include information from the leaked season 3 ep descriptions to try and connect the dots. ANALYSIS UNDER THE CUT!
if you want to watch the trailer before the overanalysis:
youtube
right of the bat, the dream world looks way more diffrent! maybe its because wildbrain is animating the season now and resulting in higher quality, or maybe (based on the 2nd image) its a result of the dream realms being put in diffrent places and thus having different wildlife, structures ect.
wildoria still has the king clawdious statues from season 2.
the result of the dream realms merging can be seen here where there are cupcake monsters in the grim realm instead of grimspawn. Maybe the candy realm merged with the grim realm resulting in evil candy creatures lurking? ( petition to see nk statue covered in candy)
mateo sweeping with a z-mop!
MORE BEAU CONTENT!!! he seems WAY more diffrent and more hippie/at peace. Hopefully he gets properly redeemed in this season. Glad to see they didnt forget about the fact beau and zoey still have to work on their dad and daughter relatonship.
oh. this ones hard. Zoey says "heartbreak" when this scene plays and logan has a dreamsmasher bear plushie( I NEED IT), so maybe astrid and logan had a falling out? and the plushie was a gift? ( CURSE YOU TOMMY!!!)
cooper making a robot buddy! Zoey says" yearning for peers with a similarly high iq" over this so maybe cooper is looking for smarter freinds/allies. (dream slide!!!)
we get to see the happy app hq ( which is HUGE and looks way to advanced for brooklyn) and jose working for it now! idk why he would choose to work here, maybe now he needs 2 jobs?
and based on the episode desc leaks, this will cause problems for the dream chasers later in the future.
dreamsmashers face glitches a bit here due to acceleration.
izzie seems to be a HUGE fan of dreamsmasher, wonder how long that admiration gets crushed!
mateo being clearly jealous of dreamsmasher doing all the work as stated by zoey. (MY GOAT)
SO MUCH TO DISECT!
first, we izzie being a massive dreamsmasher stan( dream-stan?) as he announces his campaign for dream keeper.
we also see the night bureau arena looking diffrent, with the sun and candle logo we saw on mateos dream consultant uniform and more dream creatures in the stands such as gummy bears.
we get to see a look at the game tower being placed atop of the dream forge...oh no.
as oz states:" The towers are sucking out all the creativity, like a parasite!" This could be connected to the cyber villains and possibly dreamsmashers master plan.
teo and logan!
i also just noticed this, but there are grimspawn and people ( most likeley the night bureau) holding flashlights. as if in a search
mateo also says" we gotta get there before he does!" most likely refering to dreamsmasher.
logan jumping infront of a knitting vehicle/car in a canyon like area. This is most likeley the 'diffrent version of the dunes of duraluma' stated in the longer episode synopsis
^the sky looks diffrent from the duraluma we saw in season 2 which was a night sky.
dreamsmasher flying in what is most likely the cyber realm/ a place corrupted by the cyber corruption
oz and alberts new outfits! We also get to see the effects of the cyber corruption from the dream towers, which completley drains the realm of creativity and color.
coopers new hellicopter! it shoots out paint!
we get to see the 'meanie screenies' from the whack race 2025 longer ep synopsis which have a clark kent type of good disquise. the heart isnt fooling anyone bro
a game tower surrounded by cyberlings, meanie screenies, AND DREAMSMASHER!
albert running into a car and it EXPLODING! it also looks pixelated.
we are able to see more of the new canyon realm up close, which has cactuses. We also see the truck lo lo jumped on earlier which has a sewing type design and a driver. its being chased by zoey and izzie with bunchurro.
loop dee loops!! wooooo!!!
and the final shot we get of z-car and mateo holding on for dear life.
what we can get from this trailer+leaks and shorts:
After the dream realms changed places, it caused changes with dream creatures and enviorments with dream realms. With dreamsmasher in the game, hes smashing all problems for the night bureau, meaning mateo and the gang has nothing to do.
Astrid and logan have a falling out, beau and zoey are bonding more, cooper is building more robotics, izzie is fangirling over dreamsmasher and mateo and izzies dad now works at happy app hq. Dreamsmasher is also running for dream keeper which can cause problems for oz, albert and even night hunter.
Mateo is spying on dreamsmasher to find dirt on him, which results in him neglecting z-blob.
The cyber villains main goal is to digitize and drain the dream world of creativity, with dream smasher somehow involved. Dreamsmasher could just be a pawn in a bigger beings master plan.
ok my laptop is dying and my fingers are burining but thanks so much for reading!!
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DCAtober Day 15: Hide
Words 1,600+ Summary: You knew Moon loved a good prank. So nothing could possibly go wrong
Author here! This is NOT in any way canon to my fic, but if it were, it would take place after the reader is made aware of the glitch. They know Moon has been malfunctioning, but have never experienced it themselves
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It was turning out to be a pretty good night shift.
All your tasks were around the lobby, like rebooting a few Staffbots, clearing out the expired food from the kitchen and greasing the gears of the ride on machines by the elevators. After that, you’d gone to the daycare and done some basic cleaning, going over any spots the Staffbots missed. It wasn’t their fault - they were still learning.
Moon had left you in their company, having to leave to do a sweep of the plex. He’d eyed the bots distrustfully, like they’d somehow manage to take your head off with a mop or something, but you’d assured him that they were harmless (and teased him over the idea of him worrying about you, which made him grab you by the back of your shirt and toss you into the ballpit).
Anyway, you’d crawled out and he’d left, and you were done with your final party room, which meant you got to relax until he got back and harped on about getting rest. The bots rolled around aimlessly when the cleaning was done, which almost felt mean. You had no idea how sentient they were - were they even choosing to wander?
You didn’t want to dwell on that, so you packed up your supplies into the janitor’s closet and slid down the stair railing to the padded play area. A quick check of your watch told you Moon was coming back to the daycare. Hmmm. You were in the mood for a game.
During the day, you’d crawled around with the kids in the playplace - okay, yes, it was gross, but you had done your best not to think about that. You knew for a fact that Sun had sanitized it when they all left, however, because you’d cleared out the leftover rags to send to the laundry. Therefore, there was significantly less kid gunk on it now than at any other time of the day.
You eye the tunnels.
Moon loved to scare you, wasn’t it time you did it back? You doubted you even could, what with his thermal sensors and night vision, but you were choosing to ignore that fact because damnit, you missed having fun like a kid.
Before your brain had the chance to catch up to your idea, you were sliding into a bottom tunnel, scrambling up each level until you were positioned at the exit to the bridge connecting two of the towers. Hopefully, Moon would come searching for you, and you could jump out onto his head.
It was a flawless plan, really.
You hear the shutter door to the daycare open, and restrain a quiet laugh. This was so stupid. Moon’s bells jingle softly as he descends the stairs, shoving open the doors and stretching his robotic joints.
One of your legs is starting to go dead. It wouldn’t hurt for him to hurry up a bit.
“Starlight?” Moon says, red eyes scanning the room. They pass right over you - guess his thermal sensors were turned off for the moment. You shift in your position, and your shoe squeaks against the plastic mat lining the structure. Damnit.
You see Moon’s head whip around at the noise, cursing under your breath. Well, there goes that surprise. Rolling your eyes, you prepare to drag yourself out of your hiding spot and pretend you were simply just exploring the structure, but you freeze at Moon’s face.
His eyes are glowing red as always, but his sclera is narrowed, like a shutter going over a camera lens. Only a small red pinprick pokes through, and both of them are locked completely on you.
The wire drops from the ceiling.
In a heartbeat, Moon is hooked up and drops on the bridge in front of you, faceplate spinning slowly. You hold up your hands, rolling your eyes. Of course he’d tried to beat you at your own game.
“Oh, great party trick, buddy. I’m so scared.”
The robot doesn’t say anything.
“Seriously. Knock it off, dude, you look creepy.”
The wire unhooks and sails away into the darkness of the rafters. Moon’s eyes are locked on you.
You scoot back instinctively, unsure of what else to do. “Are you short circuiting or something?”
His head does one full rotation, during which you both stare at each other, the only noise your quiet breathing and the soft scraping of metal as it spins.
He lunges.
“What the fuck?” You shout, scrambling backwards in a panic. “Okay, you win! Quit it!”
He doesn’t seem to want to quit it, because he’s wriggling into the structure and crawling after you. You drag yourself away, yelping as your hand slips and you tumble down one of the kiddy ramps that takes you to the lower level. Moon follows, on all fours like a lioness stalking her prey. His fingers stretch out in front of him as he descends, the way he does when he’s telling the kids the tickle monster will get them, except this doesn’t feel like a joke anymore.
You flip onto your front and scramble madly, trying to remember the layout of the tower and where the nearest exit is. The problem lies in the fact that you are not kid sized, and you can’t get through the tunnels anywhere as near as fast as they could.
Behind you, you hear quiet chuckles. First intermittent, then becoming constant. You take a corner, clambering through a plastic tunnel to the next tower over. Moon follows, taking his sweet time, peeking around the corner mockingly each time you dare to look back.
You slide down another ramp, finally on the bottom floor, and head for the nearest part of the structure that has an open space. The security desk was right there, and so was the light switch. All you had to do was get there, flick the switch and then berate Moon through Sun for a good half an hour. You were gonna be fine.
Metal fingers clasp your ankle and jerk you backwards.
You scream, because what else would you do, and start madly kicking out at the robot. You feel your feet connect with something, and hear it too because Moon screeches and draws back, giving you time to slip away and onto the playmat.
The desk is right there.
“Intruders are not allowed in the daycare.”
Stupidly, stupidly, you look over your shoulder in shock at the voice. Moon is standing unnaturally, hunched over, his head dangling to the side and his hat sliding off. You’d never seen his hat slide off. You thought it was attached to him.
A hand grabs your shoulder, stopping you in your tracks and making you scream. You struggle, but his other hand comes around and clasps your neck, and then he pounces and pins you to the ground, crushing your throat.
“It’s past your bedtime.”
His voice is distorted, and you can barely make out the sentence with the amount of glitches that interrupt each word. His eyes are narrowed to even smaller pinpricks, and oh god, you might actually die. You might actually die at the hands of your friend, all because of some glitch in his system.
“Do I look like an intruder?” you shout, like any normal person would, because the alternative is getting killed instantly. Moon hesitates, his grip loosening. “Look, at me, cheese head! See this stupid watch?”
You can’t actually show him said watch, because that hand is pinned under one of his knees as he straddles you, but he pauses long enough for you to grab his faceplate with your other hand and slam it to the side, sending his head spinning like a ballerina. He lets go of you to stop it, and lets his guard just in time for you to buck him with your hips and throw him off balance.
Okay, fuck, you have no idea how in god’s name you managed that, especially because he was like one hundred times stronger than you, but you sure as hell weren’t gonna take a break to ponder it. You propel yourself upwards, lunging forwards and sliding behind the desk just as Moon sliced a hand towards where you had been three seconds prior.
You heart is pounding. Your hands are sweaty. You probably would have pissed yourself if you had to deal with that any longer. But you’re alive, so none of that matters right now.
Shaking, you stand up and take stock of yourself. No broken bones, maybe a few bruises. Nothing major. You’re okay. It’s okay.
Moon is glowering at you, hands on the very edge of the desk as he seems to be trying very hard to lean over and finish you off. The desk has claw marks etched into the end. Something was very, very wrong here.
Of course, you don’t feel like dealing with that right now. So you lean to the right, smack the shit out of the light switch, and watch frozen in place as Moon makes the switch to Sun.
“Nice one, asshole,” you exhale, not bothering to give Sun the time to sift through their memory bank and see what happened. You knew most nights he was resting in their head, not watching, and this was clearly no exception. “My shift is over. I’ll see you on Thursday.”
You march out of the daycare, leaving Sun staring blankly at the claw marks in the desk, trying to figure out what the hell he had missed. You manage to make it to the lobby before your legs give out, and you sit there for a good while, remaining in the permanent light given off by the walkway.
You were alive. Everything is okay.
#i meant it when i said malicious intent#i love the idea of sun having to go through what happened#and not know instantly#really explains a lot of his fear later on#because he didn't know what was happening until it was too late#anyway! enjoy xxx#fnaf sb#sunshine and nightlights#fnaf security breach#fnaf sun#fnaf daycare attendant#fnaf moon#fnaf#fnaf fic#dcatober24#five nights at freddy's security breach#five nights at freddy's#security breach#daycare attendant#my writing
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Hello everyone, I want to share my au for Baldi Basics education and lerning!













There are 2 worlds here: real and virtual. The Baldi school is located in the virtual world. Baldi every time moves to the real world to kill students or staff of a real school And take them to your virtual school and world.
In addition, Baldi is thwarted by Null and (sometimes) Test with his murder plans. Null believes that all Baldi's affairs are meaningless, and suddenly everyone will understand that they are only in the virtual world.
Brief information about the characters:
Baldi - 29 years old, pansexual, lives in the virtual world, math teacher.
Principal of the thing (Michael) - 34 years old, Omnisexual, lived in the real world, but is now in the virtual one, school principal.
Playtime (Masha) - 14 years old, aroace, Lived in the real world, but is now in the virtual world, student.
This is a bully (Billy) - 16 years old, bisexual, lived in the real world, but is now in the virtual world, student.
Gotta sweep (William) - 43 years old, pansexual, lived in the real world, but is now in the virtual one (previously was a person, but now became a mop), janitor.
Arts and Crafts (Anthony) - 15 years old, gay and demiboy, lived in the real world, but is now in the virtual one (he used to be a person, but now he is a sock puppet), student.
1st prize (Larry) - 14 years old, pansexual and demiboy, lived in the real world, but is now in the virtual one (used to be a human, but now he is a robot), student.
cloudy copter (Claude) - 14 years old, Aroace, Lived in the real world, but is now in the virtual (used to be a person, but now he is a cloud), student (?).
Null / filename2 - ??? (Can change age), aroace And agender, Lives in a virtual world, ???.
chalkles (mr. Richard) - 59 years old, hetero, lived in the real world, but is now in the virtual one (previously he was a person, but now he is a chalk drawing), history and drawing teacher.
Test - 17 years old, Aroace, Lives in the virtual world, student (?).
Beans (Ben) - 25 years old, aroace, He lived in the real world (he was only 13 years old at the time), but now he is in the virtual world, a student.
Mrs. Pomp - 28 years old, bisexual, lived in the real world, but is now in the virtual one, literature teacher.
Johnny - 16 years old, pansexual, lived in the real world, but is now in the virtual one (he is the only real person who was not killed, he was simply taken from prison), Apprentice (?), salesman.
Dr. reflex (Jerry) - 29 years old, pansexual and aroace, Lived in the real world, but is now in the virtual one, Doctor.
I think I’ll tell you about the death of characters later.
#baldi's basics#Au#Baldi#principal of the thing#Playtime#it's a bully#gotta sweep#arts and crafts#1st prize#Null#filename2#cloudy copter#Test#Chalkles#Beans#Mrs. Pomp#johnny#dr. reflex
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Behold! A TF2 OC!
They’re The Janitor, or really, just a janitor. Or Jay, if you want to call him by name. They work long, loooong days and are paid fuck all. They’re an art college dropout, and so navigated their early 20s riddled with debt and late bills. After a point he was ready to take any job, and Mann Co needed janitors. He sweeps the floors, mops up blood, shoves bodies into the wood chippers, does the dishes, and all without complaining! Being annoying is a friable offense, after all! (It says it on his contract, and yet Scout walks around with that mouth of his) Over the course of working at Mann Co, and taking Medic’s homemade testosterone injections, Jay really changes! Grows into himself and transitions :3 And he learns a lot about chemicals, especially dangerous ones that could ruin the circuitry of a robot that’s threatening your found family! He joins the battlefield as some strange mvm exclusive tenth class. He changes a lot, therefore, second design! It was fun to draw :3 More info under the cut! As well as a FUCKTON of doodles featuring a few other tf2 ocs :3
First of all, a fuckton of doodles! This first batch is my favorites from my doodle canvases of him, and some silly ones :3 cameo from @1-800-deactivatednearu ‘s Botanist and @sickknifetrick ‘s Butcher!
Next batch is transgender stuff, I apologize but I cannot make an oc that’s not queer in some way ^w^
And general body shape, he’s pretty pear shaped, and considering it was the 1960s and 70s, before top surgery he bound with tape, which absolutely fucked up his ribs! He did all his 12 hours shifts in that :3
And last but not least, the Janitor’s fallen in love with the Mailman :3 Specifically, @sicc-nasti ‘s mailman! The Courier! Aka, Brodie ^w^ Some doodles of the two of them!
And a comic panel redraw! I apologize, the lineart’s hard for me to imitate X3 I’m a ctrl z every 0.2 seconds kinda guy while Makani is not
#tf2#team fortress 2#tf2 oc#tf2 janitor#beepartcollection#my art#except for the comic redraw lol#tf2 courier#sicc-nasti#sickknifetrick#1-800-deactivatednearu#tf2 jay the janitor
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Momo Momone (UTAU) ID Pack
[PT: Momo Momone (UTAU) ID Pack].
Requestor's note: preferably with masc + neu names
[ID: A purple thin line divider shaded at the bottom. End ID].
Names
[PT: Names].
Alaric, Asher, Avery, Basil, Clove, Corwin, Cyril, Eden, Elliot, Erisen, Fable, Felian, Felix, Gale, Halo, Harlan, Ivory, Jasper, Jules, Leo, Lyric, Marcel, Marion, Miles, Miren, Nolan, Olive, Otis, Rue, Vale, Velour, Wynn
Pronouns
[PT: Pronouns].
Blu / Blus / Blush, Clea / Clean / Cleans, Doe / Doll / Dolls, Dus / Dust / Dusts, Hu / Hum / Hus, Ly / Lyr / Lyrics, Mop / Mops / Mops, Pea / Peach / Peaches, Robo / Robos / Robos [Robot], Shy / Shyness / Shyness', So / Song / Songs, Swee / Sweep / Sweeps, Ta / Task / Tasks, Ti / Tidy / Tidys, Ve / Ver / Verses
Titles
[PT: Titles].
[Pronoun] Who Cleans with Grace, [Pronoun] Who is Shy but Strong, [Pronoun] Whose Melody Brightens the Room, [Pronoun] Whose Voice Softens Hearts, The Diligent Housekeeper, The Harmonious Helper, The Maid with Might, The Melodic Maid, The Obedient Operatic
[ID: A purple thin line divider shaded at the bottom, End ID].
Requested by @acespec-lesboy!
Also tagging: @id-pack-archive
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— Noticed

Carrd | Ko-fi | Patreon | Archive of Our Own Mirror

Fandom No Straight Roads Pairing 1010/reader Chapter Summary Eloni and Haym decide to see what the new maid is all about. Haym also gets around the firewall again.
« Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter »

Haym couldn’t help but think this was similar to one of the fanfictions he had read. He knew it was weird to read fanfictions about yourself by your fans, but, he had been curious — at first, at least — of what his fans were doing for fun. One turned into two, and now he consumed fanfiction like it was his morning breakfast.
Rivals to lovers, high school alternative universes, even ones where the reader would be picked from the crowd to be their one and only, Haym had read them all. Cute misspelling to works of art, he kept them downloaded onto backups to reread over and over. It was a secret that he would take to his grave, away from his fans that no doubt would stop creating them if they knew he read them.
So, sitting on top of on the bench top of one of Neon J’s workshops across the mansion, Haym watched the maid work, Eloni not too far away from him, tinkering with something he found on the floor.
There were many genres he could think of that would fit the style of scenario he found himself in; slice of life, romance comedy, even shojo, but, he wasn’t able to pin the one, resting his chin in his palm as he watched the maid sort through the nuts and bolts. “Is this really on your list today?” Haym questioned, watching as the maid’s eyes flickered to him, watching her shoulders shrug.
“It was on the list for today so I’m just following through.” Extending his arm to take the paper that was offered to him, Haym read over the neat handwriting of their creator, scanning down it to see the different tasks she was assigned. Sweeping, mopping, dusting, it was all the typical stuff, including where in the mansion he wanted her to do it, but, he couldn’t help but make a clicking noise from his voice box as he finally spotted the sorting of the nuts and bolts, eyes flickering to and from it before giving it back.
It didn’t take a super robot to figure out that it was Eloni who had forged the handwriting, but, he gave the benefit of the doubt — keeping his mouth shut as he watched Eloni in the background shake his head in a plea to stay quiet.
“It’s quite relaxing, actually,” The maid said, the piles of the nuts and bolts that had grown into one pile decreasing as she organised them into the boxes they actually belonged to, “Just us and the sound of the metal.” As if to make her point, the maid reached for one of the boxes and rattled it gently, filling the otherwise quiet space with pleasant noise before returning to her sorting.
Eloni shifted beginning to sort with her one piece at a time.
“So you don’t mind repetitive tasks?” Eloni said and Haym swore he was able to see the cute bubbles that would appear in the fan comics begin to blow around the green robot’s head, Haym moving closer himself, slowly beginning to follow in his footsteps as he dropped a few nuts and bolts into their own piles.
“I wouldn’t have become a maid if I hated them.” The simple jest in her voice as if she had been asked this question a thousand times was obvious, one that made Haym’s hand hover a bit as he listened to the giggles that came from her throat.
He had heard many types of giggles, from sweet ones to ones that were forced, but, Haym couldn’t help but want to hear it again and again, something about it tickling his servos in a nice way.
“Well, that’s good,” Haym couldn’t help but join in the laughter too, his voice box rattling slightly with laughter as he turned his LED eyes to look at her, taking note of the way she held eye contact with them so easily, how she looked him in the eyes when she was talking to them.
Just like in the fanfics, just like they were on the same level.
“We get bored sometimes with our shows,” Eloni said, using one of the bolts like a coin as he flicked it into the air, watching it twirl around before catching it again, “We do love our fans,” as much as they were programmed to love them unconditionally, “But sometimes we have to find a way to make things interesting, you know?”
“Last show Eloni started to do things behind Rin to make the audience laugh. I joined in after a bit.” Nobody had laughed much at Eloni’s antics, but, he remembered it fondly, how the two of them used the fact that during one of the dances to poke fun at the white one — It had earned them a scolding later, but, at least Rin had laughed when he finally was able to see the clips of everything he wasn’t able to catch them doing. Pulling out his phone, Haym’s fingers flew across it, pulling up the video before he flipped it around.
Watching her face shift with each second was something he would keep in his memory bank forever. From subtle gasps to laughter that could brighten a room, Haym allowed his eyes to flick over to Eloni, watching how he vibrated in excitement.
Nobody had ever shown interest in his antics like she was from just watching the video, nobody had laughed along with him when he was being a goofball.
Nobody had ever shown interest in Eloni and Eloni alone before.
“And you came up with this all on your own?” The maid said with a grin, turning her head to Eloni, watching as the gears turned in his head before he realised she was talking to him directly.
“Yes!” Eloni said, the green robot beginning to prattle as Haym put his phone away, being careful that it wouldn’t keep playing in his pocket as he listened to Eloni begin to recount his entire thought process from the beginning, from his boredom to his thoughts on everything he did.
Including the fact the entire thing had started because Rin’s neck panel had opened up behind his neck. The panelling was meant to last — it was meant to be good quality, too — but sometimes things like that just tended to happen, especially when your shows were as high energy and full of things.
Though, he was still surprised his system hadn’t picked up on it in the first place. Haym couldn’t help but scratch the back of his own neck, feeling the panel’s ridges on the back of his neck as
“And so, I thought Rin’s not noticing that, what else can I get away with? And It went from there. He got it fixed after the show, too, so I consider it a win for the both of us.”
Haym would take it to his decommission that he had done it in order to help out his brother, but, as he pulled himself back onto the bench top he had been standing next to, propping a leg up on the bench just beneath his hips, he couldn’t help but rest his head on his knee, pulling up his stats to make sure he wasn’t running low. He wanted to sit, to observe, to watch as the maid and his best friend chatted and sorted through the nuts and bolts.
All systems were normal, his coolant didn’t need to be changed, so, why did he feel so warm and fuzzy? He made very minimal movements with his fingers as he flicked through all the screens, checking everything he could think of before his email went off, abandoning everything to flick over to that. While they were talking — distracted away from his warming body — he may as well find a way to… he couldn’t put it into better terms than ‘cool off’ as he opened his emails, beginning to scroll through the new ones rapidly.
“Eloni,” Haym muttered, watching as the green robot perked up at his name, barely seeing his eyes through the pop up as he shifted his gaze to look at him, “Want to do a commercial with Sayu later?”
“It’s Zimelu’s turn, he’s been putting it off for too long.”
As much as Zimelu pretended that he didn’t like the bright pinks and blues of the commercials, he had seen him pull out a plushie of her he kept behind his charging pod. Forwarding the email off to Zimelu, Haym went back to scrolling his inbox, replying to some that interested him—.
Stopping his fast scroll and respond mid email, Haym scrolled back up, feeling his handshake as he saw a familiar username, forcing his body to keep still as he clicked on it. Rivals to lovers, fluff, a coffee shop au? He had been waiting for this fanfiction for months, watching the author’s social media silently, buzzing with excitement whenever they teased what was coming next.
“Neon J and DJ share a bed?”
The clinking of nuts and bolts stopped, Haym feeling the stares on him before he removed the HUD from his vision, seeing Eloni and the maid staring at him. He saw her mouth move, but, no noise came out, Haym blinking a few times as he rebooted his hearing module.
“What did you say, bebe?”
“Baby?”
“Programming!”
Whatever had been stirring in the pretty maid’s mind seemed to simmer down, yet, her brow was raised just a bit, her body turned to him enough that she was completely square, 0° of angle between their bodies as she stepped in front of him.
“What was that about sharing a bed.”
Haym’s servos ran hot as he realised he had been caught out, eyes no doubt glitching as he attempted to find a way out of the situation. It was one thing to be reading fanfiction about yourself and the people around you, it was another to be caught doing it in front of someone that wouldn’t know what it was like — would she call it narcissistic, he didn’t know, but, he quickly rummaged through his memories, pulling up one that would fit.
“Just a fan using a photo from a few months ago for some gossip,” making more exaggerated movements to pretend like he was checking on his oil levels, he kicked himself off the bench, beginning to walk backwards, “I need to go get some oil! See you later.”
It was only when he had been halfway down the hallway did he finally remembered, taking a moment to reboot at his stupidity; they had changed away from oil-based lubricant months ago.

Living in such a large home, you found yourself not running into anyone on purpose unless you wanted to. It was the perfect environment for Haym when he was busy reading his daily fix, huddled up in a corner that had been freshly cleaned away from dust as he entranced himself into the story a fan had come up with. It was fine that he wasn’t in it, nor was he the main star, but, reading things from his producer’s point of view and getting to laugh about how wrong they got certain parts of his character, Haym had been trapped before he had known it.
In one part of the interface, he had his comment ready, his thoughts written down as he read through the chapter, in the other was the story, slowly taking his time reading each line as he drew the tech coffee shop in his head that rivalled the moody cafe.
‘They’re not American’ blinked next to the story, each part of the Americanised ‘Neon J’ causing him to roll his eyes and groan, Haym for once taking a break as he closed out of the fic, leaning back against the cushions of the chair as he stared up at the ceiling.
Though, nearby, Haym couldn’t help but perk up the microphone sensitivity in his ears, listening to the far-away voices that drew closer, and closer, catching a glimpse of the maid uniform and a head of green as they finally passed by the door.
Yet, it wasn’t the thought of them still hanging out together that made Haym smile, it was what he overheard instead, knowing that his best friend was beyond giddy inside.
“Well, I guess I’m your new number-one fan.”
Snuggling back into the cushions, Haym smiled to himself as he muttered “Strangers to friends…” before pulling back up the fanfiction, though, as he glanced at the next line, he stood up rapidly, knowing that if he had the muscles of a human that they would contort in anger that could not be healthy.
“That is the worst Google translation I have ever read!”
He would not be finishing this one.

#no straight roads#nsr#nsr 1010#no straight roads 1010#nsr x reader#no straight roads x reader#1010 x reader
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