#I will buy her chocolate next time we work together <3

[oculusxcaro]

Tag 10 people you want to know better

favourite colour: blue and orange! song stuck in your head: don't regret - tatu last song you listened to: destroy me - mr. kitty 3 favourite foods: tomato and cheese pasta, sweet chilli rice crackers, granny smith apples dream trip: greece (or cyprus) anything I want rn: shit, I don't know? a good night's sleep and a tall glass of fresh inspiration juice sounds really good right about now maybe? ♥

tagged by: @qu-tipie and @sheldoney (thank you both ♡) tagging: @arkhmlcst, @bdybag, @dcmonshcad, @draggeddowntothedark, @elisethetraveller, @goldenmedic, @pains-illusions, @paleobird, @sebastianshaw, @the-rorschach-mask (and anybody else who'd like to do this?)

[ataliagold]

Flowers In Your Hair

For @astrangersummer week 3 prompt 'flowers'. Title from Flowers In Your Hair by The Lumineers.

Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson

Rating: General

W/C: 1249

Tags: Post Series 4 Volume 2, Everyone Lives, Established Steddie, Fluff, Soft Steve Harrington, Steve Loves Yellow Flowers, Eddie Loves Steve, El and Max are best friends, summer, this is just softness

Summary: Eddie enlists some help to find the perfect flowers for Steve. Despite his own insecurities, Eddie is learning that his boyfriend loves soft things.

___

“Robin, what kind of flowers does Steve like?”

Eddie was draped over the Family Video counter, having stolen the barely-working desk fan air flow for himself.

Robin paused where she was rifling through the box of returned tapes to give him a confused look. “Flowers? Really?”

Eddie threw up a hand, then regretted it, because that had taken far too much effort in the stifling heat. “What? You think a man can’t buy flowers for another man? You judging me, Buckley?”

Robin scoffed. “No. Just…why flowers?”

“It’s romantic!” Eddie whined. “We have a date tonight and Steve loves that stuff. He might not say it, but he does. On Valentine’s Day I got him chocolates and roses and you should’ve seen his face, honestly if we hadn’t been in public I probably would’ve got on my knees there and then -”

Robin leaned over and slapped a hand across his mouth. “Jesus, enough.”

Eddie grinned behind her hand, and poked his tongue out to touch Robin’s palm.

She snatched it away with a shout, fake gagging behind the counter. “Munson, that was disgusting.”

Eddie shrugged. “You love me, though.”

“Steve loves you,” Robin corrected. “And so, by extension, I’m unfortunately forced to too.” She smiled a little, taking any sting out of her words. “Seriously though, the kids are over there, watch your mouth.” She dipped her head towards the sci-fi section, where Dustin and Mike were loudly arguing over which tape to rent for their next movie night. Max and El were hanging back, Max eagerly trying to explain a movie synopsis to El. Whatever it was, it sounded violent, and El looked confused.

Eddie leaned further over the counter, letting the weak breeze from the fan flick his hair around. “Help me?” he asked, batting his eyes at Robin.

She screwed up her nose a little before responding. “Honestly, I don’t know. You said you got him roses before, right? Did he like those?”

“Well, yeah, but I think he liked the gesture more than anything else.”

Robin shrugged. “Just get him anything, then. It’s from you, so he’ll love it.”

“But I want to get his favourite,” Eddie lamented. “He deserves the best.”

“Well, I agree with you there.”

“Eddie?”

A small voice sounded behind him, and Eddie summoned the energy to turn his head. El was standing behind him, looking a little shy.

“Yeah, supergirl?”

“You wanted to know Steve’s favourite flowers?”

Eddie slid off the counter a bit, straightening up. “Yeah, I do.”

El glanced between him and Robin for a moment. “Steve used to help me and Max with our hair. When mine was longer, we would make daisy chains and Steve braided them into my hair, he even let us put them in his sometimes. We tried to use other flowers sometimes but they did not stay together very well. But Steve’s favourites are yellow ones.”

And that…made sense, Eddie supposed. Yellow was Steve’s favourite colour, after all, but Eddie wasn’t sure where to find yellow flowers. He couldn’t afford much at the florist, and what flowers were yellow, anyway? Sunflowers? Where the hell would he get those?

Robin tugged his sleeve, pulled Eddie back to the counter so she could lean over and whisper, “The Klines have yellow roses growing by their fence.”

“The old Mayor?” Eddie asked with a frown.

“Yup.”

A smile slowly spread across his face.

“There are marigolds by the school field,” El added. “And yellow violas and tulips by the cabin. I can show you.”

And that was how, a short time later, Eddie was snapping off fragrant yellow roses at the stalk where they were poking out between the stark white pickets of Larry Kline’s fence. Max and El were standing further down the footpath, acting as lookouts while Eddie huddled by the fence and took his quarry as quickly as he could.

At the first surprised shout from inside the fence, he darted away, collecting the girls with a grin as he ran past them.

He threw back his head and laughed, roses clutched in his warm hand, Max beaming beside him.

“That guy’s an asshole,” she told Eddie as they jogged away from the house. “Serves him right.”

They couldn’t move too quickly – Max’s bones had healed, but she wasn’t exactly up to a sprint across town just yet. But they made it to Eddie’s van parked around the corner, and moved on to their next stop.

Just like that, Eddie spent the afternoon traipsing along with the two girls. El showed him where to find all sorts of different flowers, and Max went along because where El went, she went. It was hot, the sun baking them from above in a cloudless sky, but Eddie didn’t care – this was for Steve.

By the time they were finished, Eddie had gathered a large handful of flowers in all different shades of yellow and orange, and the girls had wrapped them in some plastic procured from Hopper’s cabin and poured some water into the bottom to keep them fresh in the summer heat.

“There,” El told him proudly, handing over the bouquet while Max tried to find some ribbon in a drawer to tie around it. “They’re pretty. Like Steve.”

Eddie spluttered a little at El’s directness. “Oh…yeah. Yeah, they are. He is.”

El nodded. “Max often says so, too.”

“Oh my god, shut up,” Max yelled from El’s room.

Eddie smirked, because the girl’s little crush on his boyfriend was no secret. “It’s ok Max, I agree with you.”

Max stomped back towards them, slapped a length of gold ribbon into Eddie’s hands, and then took El’s arm and pulled her back towards the room.

Effectively dismissed, Eddie returned to his trailer to rush through a shower and getting changed, barely with enough time left to get to Steve’s before their dinner plans.

Waiting in front of his boyfriend’s door, Eddie passed the bouquet from hand to hand, a little nervous.

This is stupid.

Steve Harrington, former jock supreme, once-captain of the basketball team, nail-bat wielding badass wasn’t going to appreciate some yellow flowers.

Eddie almost turned tail. Almost tossed the flowers into the back of his van to be dealt with later, almost gave in to the nerves in his stomach.

Almost.

Because there was a softness to Steve that Eddie was learning to know and love. It was in the way he treated the kids, the way he gently held Eddie’s hand, the way he baked cookies when his friends were coming over and apparently braided flowers into the girls’ hair.

Eddie took a deep breath, clutched his yellow flowers, and knocked on the door.

It opened after a moment.

“Eds, hey, sorry I just gotta get my shoes on -” Steve trailed off as he took in the sight of Eddie standing there, flowers gripped in shaky hands.

Eddie cleared his throat, held out the bouquet. “For you. If, um…if you want them. Sorry if it’s stupid, I wanted to get you something but I couldn’t afford much and El told me you liked yellow flowers so I spent the afternoon going around town and finding them, and the roses actually involved some petty theft but -”

Steve took the flowers with one hand, and pulled Eddie through the door with the other, lips seeking his mouth and swallowing the rest of his sentence.

When they finally pulled apart, Eddie smiled shyly. “You like them, then?”

“I love them, Eds.”

___

[thesirencult]

Pick A Card Reading: Your Soulmate's Letter To Santa About You 💌

PILE 1

Dear Santa,

I want to thank you for my gift from last year, lol. She is amazing.

She makes me happy and puts a smile on my face. Sometimes I smile so hard my cheeks burn.

I've never felt happier in my life.

The way she talks, the way she moves, the way her eyes brighten up when she looks at a puppy or a piece of chocolate pie, they all drive me wild.

I want to be there for her, this Christmas and every other Christmas after this one. I want to buy her a house as a gift and a ring to go with it, maybe even a car? She doesn't like to drive that much but my baby has to have everything she wants.

What she wants she will get. I love her. I adore her. She owns my heart and soul. I'm proudly whipped.

Thank you Santa, I'll take care of her heart ❤️

~ Your soulmate is a provider. They must be a "golden retriever" type of person. I'm hearing "here comes the boy!". When you first meet them you won't expect to fall so hard for them. They have a compatible sense of humour with you.

PILE 2

Hey Santa Baby,

Am I in the naughty list? Great!

This year I put up with no bs and I said "bye" to everything that held me back. I let go of the old stories and left the world behind.

Well, not the whole world, because I met that special someone and they are amazing. I'm writing down my goals for next year and I want one of them to be to deepen my relationship with my soulmate.

I know that they are special, I'm not crazy! I consciously make the choice to commit to them. I feel like we are twin flames and can not wait to explore they way their mind works.

I want to help them unlock their potential. They are a force to be reckoned with and they don't even know it.

Bye, for now!

~ Your FS (yup, they are) is someone who could very well be a motivational speaker or a content creator in that space. They love doing challenges like 75 hard and lighting up other people's fire. They could also be an athlete or ex athlete. You will love this person's practical nature and approach in life. This person is also very spiritual and they probably have heard of Ayahuasca and other popular terms etc. They remind me of a Tech Founder in silicon valley who is I'm woowoo stuff (no worries, I'm the woo woo stuff).

PILE 3

Santa,

I'm ready to move on from this year. My faith is stronger than ever before.

I've wished for so many things in the last few years. Many of them manifested into my life but one thing still hasn't showed up yet and I'm very bumped because of that.

Don't get me wrong. I'm grateful for the life I live and lead. I have almost everything I've wished for but that almost is killing me.

I know she is out there. I've felt her energy before. Since I was a child, whenever I looked up to the stars, I felt this overwhelming connection with someone. This invisible string tagging at my heart at all times. No one has ever made me feel this way and I know that it is unfair to say that for my previous partners but I miss her. I miss someone I've never met. Can you please bring her to me this year? I don't want anything else but my love to come back to me in this lifetime.

I know that the time to meet her is coming. I can feel it, but make it as fast as you can. Please.

I have a lot of goals for the year, especially financial ones. I'll try to focus on them until she comes. Where is she? Where is my love?

I will know she is here when I lay my eyes on her. My heart will speed up and the world as I know it will shutter. Shutter my world darling. I don't care. I made that world by myself and it is time we build our own world together.

P.S. Send loving energy to my soulmate, they need it. Tell them I will buy them their gift myself next year, but for now... This, sadly, has to do.

~ Awww your soulmate is very sweet and... depressed! They don't show it to anyone though but when they are alone at night they drink a glass of wine and think about you. They would want you to be there.

This person is very, stoic and "protected". That give me "military" vibes even if they have nothing to do with the military. This inability to outwardly express their feelings. You will baby them a lot and it is going to look comical but they will love it. Your FS might be older and taller than you and people will laugh when they see how much of a baby they become around your presence. They are very tired of being lonely. Don't get me wrong, this is not someone mopping around, they are just a "closeted" romantic. They hide their true feelings and you will know they love you because they will do acts of service for you or you will catch micro expressions. As soon as you enter in an official relationship they won't be able to keep their hands away from you.

[forbebeandjam]

hi, can you pls make smutty fluffy fic with stalker bada x reader where like reader is regular customer of bada’s cafe or sth and bada gets obsessed day by day then stalked reader without knowing reader has a crush on her. Then they ended up together!! thanks in advance!xoxo<3

The Perfect Stalker | Bada Lee x Fem Reader | 21+

Summary: you met a beautiful barista who turned out to be your stalker.

Word count: 2.1k

Warnings: fingering, stalking, thigh riding MDNI

Readers discretion is advised!!

A/N: might be a bit rushed but I think you will like it. Love you!!

"Welcome in. What can I get for you today?" Bada said as a customer walked through the door.

Working at that coffee shop was part of her usual routine. She used to dread every time she had to clock in since dealing with customers wasn't really something she wanted to do every day.

"I'll have a latte with three pumps of vanilla and a splash of heavy cream and make it a decaf with oat milk," The woman said.

"Sure thing. Would you like that hot or iced?" Bada said but the woman wasn't paying her any mind as she looked at her phone.

"Ma'am?" Bada asked once more.

"Uh, no iced. I'm here every day, you should know this. The name is Yujin. Keep the change," the woman tossed the money on the counter and walked off.

Bada took a deep breath. She clutched the money and threw it into the register.

"I swear I can't do this any longer," Bada said to her coworker.

"Those dance classes won't pay themselves, Bada," He replied with a smile. She rolled her eyes and turned to the bar to begin making a drink.

The cafe was very empty. Rush hour was over and Bada began to clean the counters when she heard the door open.

"Hi, welcome in," She said and looked up to greet the person but she froze.

You stood before her with a warm smile. Dressed in ripped jeans with a white crop top and sneakers, your hair was up in a claw clip and a few strands were loose at the front you walked into the register.

Bada was mesmerized by you. She was frozen in her spot and just looked at you as you looked at the menu above her.

"How good is your lemon pie? I heard good things about it but I'm not really into lemon flavors," you said diverting your sight to her.

she swallowed hard and didn't answer until the guy next to her nudged her shoulder.

"Oh, um... sorry. I am not a fan of it but you could try our chocolate and strawberry pastry. It's balanced so it isn't too sweet," she replied not daring to look at you.

"Oh, I'll have that and a regular black coffee," You said as you handed the car to her. She nervously reached out and took the card from your hands exposing her wave tattoo at you.

"That's a beautiful tattoo, miss. What's your name?" You asked wanting to know more about the gorgeous girl before your eyes.

"I'm Bada. Lee Bada," she said still looking down.

"Oh, hence the tattoo. I love it. Your eyes are pretty too," you said with a giggle making her look up at you.

"Ha, made you look," You said and she finally smiled.

"Here is your card back," she said and you took the card in your hands.

"Y/N, do you want to go to the beach this summer or should we go to the countryside?" A male voice said as he walked up to you. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and you saw Bada's face turn sour.

"I'm busy, Min. Can you wait for me out there?" You said as you pushed him off you.

"I was going to say... I really like your tattoo. That wave is so cute," you smiled and she blushed.

"Bada... make that drink," her coworker said making her turn and almost slip. You giggled at her clumsy actions finding it cute how flustered she became around you.

So for the next couple of days, you would show up to buy a coffee and just sit in the lobby to watch her work. What you didn't know was that over the course of the days, Bada would leave work and follow you around.

She followed every step you took from a distance all the way to your home. She would sit at a bench in front of your house and she would watch who walked in and out.

Her blood would boil every time she saw Min walk out of your house late at night. She wanted to rip his head off and then present it to you as a trophy for your love.

-

A few weeks passed by and you had caught Bada following you. You knew you were head over heels for the girl, but you didn't know she also felt the same way. Why else would she be following you, right?

"Min, grandma needs you to go to take care of her for a few days. Mom has to travel to her new job. Please?" You asked your brother on the phone as you waited to order.

Bada popped from under the counter and smiled at you.

"What can I get for you?" She said.

"I'll take a regular iced coffee. Black," you said.

"Are you at that coffee shop again? Are you there to see your girlfriend, the barista, Bada?" He said and you thanked the seven seas you didn't have him on speakerphone.

"You know what? Mom should've given you up for adoption when we were born. Having a fraternal twin sucks. Go take care of grandma, Min before I rip your hair out," you said into the phone and hung up immediately.

"Here is that coffee for you," Bada said as she placed your drink on the counter. You looked at the cup and noticed that it wasn't a regular glass cup and it was in a plastic cup.

"Oh, what happened to your glass cups?" You asked.

"Nothing. We still have them but I just thought that you might have something to do after and you wouldn't want to be late," she said not looking at you.

"Um... are you kicking me out?" You said while grabbing the cold drink.

"No! Oh my gosh... I mean... I'm sorry," she said as she picked up the mess she made while panicking over your words.

"I'm kidding. I do have to go to the gym and I'm always late so, thank you for the drink. I'll see you later," you said flashing her a wink.

She melted. Everything about you made her go crazy. She knew following you around was probably wrong but she couldn't help it.

So you went to the gym and then headed home. You looked back once when you heard footsteps. Then you felt a presence behind you but there was no one. You knew Bada was probably hiding behind a wall or a bush but decided to ignore it and simply giggle while you walked.

When you reached the door to your house, you carefully unlocked it and stopped. You turned back and looked around when you saw a pair of shoes behind a bush.

"So, are you going to keep following me around like that?" You asked but she didn't move.

"Bada, I know you're right there. Come on out," you said once more and her shoes slowly moved.

"Do you want to come in?" You asked and she fiddled with her fingers walking slowly towards you.

You huffed and walked to her holding her wrist and pulling her into your house. You asked her to sit on the couch and offered her a cup of chamomile tea when you saw how tense she looked.

"So, why have you been following me from afar?" You asked.

"I'm sorry. I know it's creepy and you have a boyfriend so I don't want any problems. You're really pretty and I wanted to be close to you but I can't bring myself to talk to you," she said quickly.

"Whoa! Why do you think I have a boyfriend?" You asked.

"The boy that comes and leaves your house. Isn't that your boyfriend?" She said.

"Ew! Gross. That is my twin brother. Fraternal twins, so we look nothing alike. Bada, you know how much I've been meaning to flirt with you but you never look at me? It was honestly driving me insane..." you said taking a sip of your wine glass.

"Wait... what?" she said and tilted her head like a curious puppy making your heart flutter.

"What? You're a cute, and very attractive dancer. Though when you dance, you are extremely hot... but I have been watching you as well. I am attracted to you, Bada. In every possible way," You drank the last of your wine and put the glass down walking towards her.

You saw how she flinched back and you furrowed your brows at her reaction. Sure, you were being too direct and you didn't know how Bada would react but you need to know if she wanted you like you wanted her.

"Is that not why you followed me around the neighborhood? I caught you in the bus, the gym, the grocery store, and the alleyway. For Pete's sake, Bada. You sat in front of my house for hours. If not, then what was the reason?" you asked waiting for an answer as you sat closer to her.

You saw how nervous she was getting and decided to back off.

"Sorry. You know what? I can be too much at times so just ignore me. I'll call you an Uber to take you home," You said but as you were about to get up you felt her grip on your wrist.

You turned and met with the most gorgeous eyes looking up at you ever so innocently but hungry for one thing. You.

"Bada-"

"No, let me talk. I have been dying to talk to you because I... well, I've never dated or been with a woman before but you're so pretty and I was just drawn to you. Please don't let me leave. I'll regret it if I do," Bada said almost pleading.

Your heart softened at the sight of the tall girl looking up at you but there was something more.

"What do you want from me, Bada?" You asked and she pulled you making you fall on top of her. You ended up in her lap and her hands went around your waist.

"I want you. In every possible way," Bada responded and you immediately clashed your lips with hers hungry for a kiss. She bit your bottom lip and her hands moved up and down your shirt.

Soft groans escaped her lips when you began to move down her neck. Her grip on your waist tightened and you could feel her nails dig into your skin when you used your hand to squeeze one of her clothed breasts.

"Y/N~" she moaned and you smiled.

"I'll give you what you need," you said. You moved your leg so you could straddle her.

Your hand was already sliding into her pants and her legs parted willingly allowing you full access to her now-wet cunt. You inserted a finger inside of her with no warning causing her to yell out.

"Fuck... you're so wet for me, huh?" Y/N said as she pumped slowly in and out of the girl. She was already a moaning mess. You didn't stop your moments and you sped up by the minute searching for her spot. 

"I- I never thought- I would end up in this- AH! Please, don't... stop..." she said between moans. 

"Wouldnt think of it, Bada," you said curling your finger inside of her making her yell out in pleasure. You found it. You kept pressing down on it as your thumb rubbed her overstimulated clit. 

You had already came just from watching her and riding her thigh but you didn't care about yourself. You were in ecstasy just from being able to touch Bada. You had been longin in desire of her in every single way.  

With one last stroke and her body already shaking, she came on your hand and you brought it to her lips for her to taste herself shoving your finger deep down her throat making her moan even more. 

After a few seconds, you both finally came to your senses.

"Holy shit, how are you so good?" Bada asked and you giggled without saying another word. 

You stood up and took her to your room where you both got cleaned up and in bed. 

"You know... you could've just talked to me," you said as you looked at Bada. 

"No... I couldn't have," she said and you sat up. 

"Why not?" You questioned

"When you walked in the shop... you were so surreal. You were just so perfect and I am too shy for my own good," Bada replied. 

"You're so cute. Come here," You said pulling her into your chest and stroking her hair.

"I'm here for you now,"

Thank you for reading 🩵

[kazmura]

HELLAVATOR ✶ park sunghoon x fem reader 0.9k warnings, kissing rejection fluff angst if you squint ﹕ series masterlist

decelis installed a new elevator! no more running up fifteen floors to get to your class, though whoever installed this elevator must've been a flake - asking out your crush of 7 months, you get rejected and immediately after you find yourself stuck in a broken elevator with him

9/3/23 Journal Entry

I need to do this today. Yes, today. No other day works.

This might seem as a schoolgirl summoning her courage on an ordinary Friday to confess her feelings. However, anyone holding this view would be utterly mistaken. If there were a law against being cowardly as hell, you can bet I'd be the first one locked up.

Every week I resolve that on Friday, I will confess, only to back out at the last minute, reassuring myself with the excuse 'I'll definitely do it next week.' So I anxiously await every Friday, week after week. But this time is different. Waiting any longer is not an option; I must face rejection to move forward.

It's Park Sunghoon who's causing this. I once regarded him as your typical popular guy, constantly surrounded by friends and always looking good no matter what. But now I know he's more. I tutor him every Friday, and that's when I started liking him. Not Park Sunghoon, the popular pretty-faced boy, but Sunghoon—the boy who struggles with basic math, but tries his best just so I can leave early. Sunghoon, who has a habit of accidentally buying an extra strawberry milk and hesitantly hands it to me. Sunghoon, who prefers chocolate milk over strawberry. He’s not as slick as he thinks.

Nonetheless I have to do this today, so whoever’s stalking my journal, pray for me please!

𓂃

The clock ticked closer to the appointed time for their session. As the minutes passed, anticipation and nervousness swirled within her. She gathered her belongings, her heart pounding with fear. This was the day she had been both dreading and longing for.

Meanwhile, in another part of the school, Sunghoon's thoughts were preoccupied with his upcoming tutoring. He picked up his bag, contemplating the strawberry milk he had bought this morning. The action had become a small tradition between them—something he did half on purpose, half out of habit. He wondered if she would notice his deliberate mistake this time, or if their dynamic would continue as it had been.

As the final bell rang, signaling the end of classes for the day, her heart skipped a beat. With a deep breath, she headed towards their meeting spot - in front of the newly installed elevator. It’s good they finally installed it, running up flights of stairs was never ideal for any of the students. Sunghoon was already there, waiting. His eyes met hers, and a warm smile tugged at the corners of his lips. This was the moment.

Their gazes locked, and she felt butterflies swirling within her. The elevator doors stood slightly open, as if inviting them to step inside and share a moment that could change the course of their relationship.

With a gentle push of her bag against her thigh, she moved forward, approaching Sunghoon. "Hey," she greeted, voice a touch softer than usual.

"Hey," he replied, a shy smile playing on his lips. "Ready for another Friday of challenging math problems?"

She chuckled, a nervous edge to her laughter. "Always up for the challenge." Her eyes flickered towards the elevator doors, the metaphor not lost on either of them.

He caught her glance, and shyness tinted their expressions a delicate shade of pink.

“Okay, I know this is really sudden," she blurted out, her words rushing as if to match the racing beat of her heart. "But I really, really like you, and I have for like, a really long time now. I’ve been meaning to tell you, but I just couldn’t, and I don’t know, but maybe we can go out together? Like a date? But that’s only if you really want to, and—“

“Stop!” he exclaimed, his voice surprisingly loud in the confined space of the elevator.

His sudden outburst caught her off guard, and she fell silent, her heart pounding even faster now, if that were possible. Sunghoon's face had turned a shade of red that rivaled hers, and his gaze was fixed on the ground. His fingers fidgeted with the edge of his shirt, a clear sign of his unease.

"I'm sorry," he began, his words coming out in a rush, "I didn't mean to interrupt you like that. It's just I didn't expect this, and I'm really flattered— I just need a moment to gather my thoughts."

Her heart sank, embarrassment and disappointment washing over her. Had she been too forward? Was he not interested after all? The silence that hung between them in the elevator felt almost suffocating.

"It's fine, really. Let's cancel our tutoring today."

"Wait, but that's not what I meant—"

Arriving at floor 3, the elevator announced.

"I should go," she said, her voice a blend of awkwardness and a desire to escape. She felt an overwhelming urge to run, to hide beneath layers of pillows and blankets, and erase the memory of this moment. To pretend that Park Sunghoon had never even existed.

The elevator didn't open.

As she uttered those words and expected the door to open, it remained stubbornly shut. A brief flicker of confusion crossed her face, her eyebrows furrowing as she pressed the button for the door to open manually.

"Is something wrong?" Sunghoon's voice came from behind her, concern lacing his tone.

She turned to face him, the reality of the situation settling in. "I think the elevator's stuck?"

Sunghoon's eyes widened, and he moved closer to her side, pressing the door open button alongside her. The soft chime of the button echoed through the confined space, but the doors remained firmly closed.

"Seriously?" he muttered, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice.

She felt a nervous laugh bubble up. "It seems so."

The two of them exchanged a look, a mixture of disbelief and amusement in their eyes. The irony of the situation wasn't lost on them — a confession, followed by what seems to be a rejection, and now they were stuck in together.

Sunghoon sighed, pressing the help button and leaning against the wall, his gaze shifting to her.

She moved to lean against the wall opposite him, her cheeks burning with the full weight of embarrassment that the situation had brought. The intensity of the moment had made her feel exposed, fixing her gaze firmly on the floor to escape it.

“Hey,” he started, his voice soft and soothing, though she didn't immediately respond.

Walking a few steps up to her, Sunghoon gently placed his fingers under her chin, coaxing her to look up at him. The touch of his warm fingers against her skin sent a swarm of butterflies dancing through her body – cursing her heart for betraying her so blatantly.

“I bought your favorite,” he said, his voice carrying playfulness and sincerity. He held up the carton of milk, a small gesture that carried immense weight in the moment. “Will you let me finish talking now?”

Her gaze flickered between his eyes and the strawberry milk he was offering, her heart thudding in her chest. She took the carton from him, her fingers brushing against his for a brief, electrifying moment. "Thank you," she mumbled, feeling a mixture of emotions that she struggled to put into words.

Sunghoon leaned against the wall next to her again, the closeness between them feeling both comforting and nerve-wracking. "I wanted to say something earlier," he began, his eyes fixed on her, "before the elevator interrupted us."

She nodded, her heart pounding so loudly she feared he could hear it.

He took a deep breath, his gaze unwavering. "I like you too, yn. I didn't expect this, but I've liked you for a while now. And I'd really like to go on that date with you."

Suddenly, her body felt light as air, as if all the worries had been carried away by a gentle breeze. Her cheeks were still pink, but this time it wasn't from embarrassment. Her heart fluttered, and a genuine smile bloomed on her face.

Lost in the intoxicating moment, she took a few tentative steps closer to him. Her heart raced as her arms found their way around his neck, pulling him gently closer. With a soft, affectionate smile, she pressed her lips against his, igniting a fire within them both. His laughter was a delightful melody, his broad grin revealing his genuine happiness, as he drew her into his arms. Their lips met once more, not just in a kiss, but in a melding of desires and emotions. The world around them seemed to fade as their mouths moved in a rhythm fueled by the intensity of their feelings. Every touch was an exploration, every sigh a confession. In that passionate kiss, they spoke the unspoken, conveying all the longing, affection, and yearning that had been built between them.

As their kiss deepened, they were oblivious to their surroundings, lost in the world they were creating within that confined space. The elevator doors had silently slid open, revealing the hallway beyond. There Sunghoon's friends stood, amused expressions plastered their faces.

"He's cheating on me!" Jake shouted dramatically, his voice echoing through the corridor.

Sunghoon pulled away from the kiss to roll his eyes, still holding her in his embrace. "You're ridiculous."

Reaching over to close the elevator doors once again, effectively shutting his friends out. Their amused faces were left behind as the doors closed, creating a private sanctuary once more. Sunghoon turned back to her with a sheepish grin.

"Let's continue now, shall we?"

💬 kind of really hate this but I wrote it all already so it'd kill me to redo might take it down later, I had fun with it though so I hope it didn't come out too bad - im entering flop era so please pleasee reblog if you enjoy!

taglist open! @kflixnet @cherryunnie @okwons @flwrshee @beomsbeanie @parksunghoonsgf @mrchweeee @en-chantedtomeetyou

[vampziry]

some things i’ve manifested using the law of assumption —note that i’ve been using it to manifest for years, i was around 8 or 9, so it’s a lot—

1- when i was 8, i remember leaving the church and going home. i really wanted to go to the mall that day because it was almost xmas eve and there’s a lot of activities in my country, i also wanted to see the big xmas tree by the electric stairs. i remember that i affirmed everyday only one affirmation, i didn’t pay attention but lately i realized that ive always been living in the end and didnt realize because my affirmation stated the desire already fulfilled. i affirmed the whole day, i even went to the backyard and looked at the sky as if i was talking with god or something similar. i started affirming around 11 am and by 5 pm my mom was getting ready and i asked her “where are you going?” and she literally told me: i received your school grades, they are all good for me so im taking you to the mall. i lived happily the whole week because i thought that was my first encounter with god or something 😂😂

2- this was in my freshman or sophomore year, i really cant remember the time really well in this one but i do remember that my friend and i had fought and i was really scared because he ignored me everyday and we used to be really close so i reminded my subconscious everyday for like 3 days straight that they were not mad, they were just dealing with stuff or busy (yeah the gaslighting 😘😘) and nah, by day 4 he talked to me again and everything was back to normal like nothing happened.

3- food. yes, the thing i manifest the most is food because i adore eating. i used to live with the assumption: my mom is bringing me chocolate/cheesecake or pizza from work today. EVERY WEEK. and it would happen, i got used to it and stopped assuming random things that had to do with food.

i cant remember any other one, dementia patient right here 🚶🏻‍♀️🚶🏻‍♀️🚶🏻‍♀️

as for my recent ones, ive got a bunch. im a very anxious person and tbh manifesting before was way easier than now. the pressure is killing me but i still managed to manifest stuff from 2021 to this day.

1- a boyfriend. yes, i manifested a boyfriend around april 2021. i didnt go into detail but he had everything i was looking for + he was amazing (at first ofc), he later changed and i had to start attending to therapy sessions cause i got diagnosed and im still traumatized. i forgot to script the loyalty part… so yeah he definitely did cheat and gaslit me. but he made me feel amazing while it lasted. we broke up around 2 months ago and we had 2 years together. i didnt manifest the break up, he did. which is good. the universe sent me signs cause days later after the break up i found out messages and stuff of him cheating the same week of the break up.

2- i manifested for my attachment to go away. note: im the type of person to get attached emotionally to people, i was emotionally depending on my ex, so as soon as we broke up i had a dream where somebody told me to just go out the day after and spoil myself. buy whatever i want and spend some money cause i was working so hard to buy the flight to go and see him. 4 days later when i found out he was with another person i cried in my way to work and i was feeling so well that day that i literally did my hair and makeup but it got smudged :(( but that was the last and first time i cried over him after everything was over. next day i woke up feeling positive and i suddenly let everything go. bad people eventually get what they deserve in life so i just got over it and im not attached to him or the old story anymore!!

3- i manifested new friends plus i contacted my old friends back. most of them were in bad terms with me cause i blocked them out of nowhere because of my ex, everything was so messed up but they forgave me and they are very good friends after all, they text me and hype me up every day so i cannot be more grateful :D

4- i manifested my sp :D after these 2 months i thought to myself: if that person could move on, you can too. so i did, although my sp and me are not fully prepared for a relationship rn, we’re both aware of our mutual attraction and promised to give us time until we were both fully healed 🫶🏻

5- MONEYYYYYY. yeah it sounds like im too ambitious when it comes to money but im soooo silly. i spend everything i get plus i need to pay for my own stuff at school. i dont like bothering my parents with my expenses —even though they are supposed to provide for me but i feel like a problem when i do that so—, i manifested money like 4 times this year??? first, my parents never give me more than 100 for my birthday and all of a sudden they gave me 500$??? i even posted about it my happiness was out of the roof. i went to the cinema w my friends to watch an anime movie that got released on my birthday yayayaya. later, i started working and got like 1,200 in the summertime and now i manifested more money this week TO SAVE. i literally by assuming got into the void and manifested a bag full of money. i wont stfu about it IM AMBITIOUS in a good way with money, i need to move out and start building my future (bro im still 17 😔)

6- clothes and makeup. uMmm im not a fan of makeup tbh buttttt i wanted to have some in case one day i decide to put some on, my skin has always been clear and pretty, my lashes are super long and my eyebrows are really thick so i only worry about doing a perfect lip combo. i got a box and 2 bags full of makeup <3 especially makeup of my favorite brands 😙😙😙 i also was able to buy clothes online very similar to the ones that i had on my pinterest boards ^^ but i kinda forgot to buy shoes.. BFFR 😭😭😭 ive been repeating the same 5 shoes, but im gonna buy some new ones soon!!

7- colognes and jewelry 😘😘😘😘😘 yes, im a fan of these too!! my dad gave me a box full of earrings and rings. but not any kind of earrings, LONG AND BIG EARRINGS W UNUSUAL DESIGNS just how i like them. and some cute rings w rabbit, figures, etc. the colognes smell really well!! i got the nicki minaj perfume in all versions, dior colognes and a box with like 8 different types of victoria’s sprays 🚶🏻‍♀️🚶🏻‍♀️🚶🏻‍♀️

8- a good school year. its only been a month but ive made friends and i find a lot of people WHO SUDDENLY KNOW ME, waving at me in the hallways and im like OH YEAH HI even tho idk who they are?? it feels so goodddddd i feel like an it girl omg 😭😭😭 and also my grades are MAGNIFIC, i got accepted in our honors program and im currently a staff cadet in our military program I DID NOT EVEN KNOW IT WOULD BE POSSIBLE FOR ME TO ACQUIRE A HIGH RANK HERE BUT I DID ITTTT I DID ITTTT IM LEADING :D

yeah i cant remember more but thats all i’ve accomplished so far, see u dont need the void to fucking manifest 🥱🥱🥱🥱 gurllll-

[reginageorgesgirlfriend3020]

You forgot! (Part 3)

You were at the apartment mixing a song together. You recently got a job in a recording studio as an audio engineer and music producer. You were still pissed at Sam. I mean today is your one year anniversary with sam since you and her have been together for a year. You were hoping to do something romantic for her but you just couldn't focus on that as you were already starting to have trouble focusing on the mixing the song.

Sam unlocked the door to the apartment and opened the door and closed. "Hi baby!" She said. She smiled at you.

"Hi". You said quietly.

Anika and and Mindy were sitting at the table working together. Chad and Tara were watching a movie together. And Quinn was studying.

Sam walked towards you and tried to hug you as she put her hand on your back.

"Don't touch me!" You spat angrily.

Sam just looked at you. "Baby what's wrong?" She asked.

"What's wrong?! What's wrong?!" You yelled. You stood up. "You forgot our one anniversary you ass!" You yelled in front of everyone. Everybody looked at you. You walked away and slammed the door to the bedroom.

"I didn't forget our one year anniversary today is Friday and june- oh my gosh!" Said Sam.

"Sam how could you forget the one year anniversary of your own relationship?" Quinn asked.

"Because I'm freaking stupid". Said Sam.

"And dont forget you forgot to kiss your girlfriend goodnight and give her a goodnight hug". Said Anika.

"Yeah". Said Sam.

"And you forgot to tell your girlfriend goodnight beautiful". Said Chad.

"I dont mean to hurt her like this. Ugh I'm such a bad girlfriend!! I keep forgetting to do so many things for her and she never forgets to do things for me that I love and appreciate. What am I going to do?" Sam asked.

"You could say you're sorry". Said Mindy.

"Sorry may not be enough this time. When I had covid she took care of me. When I hurt my leg at work she helped me feel better. I'm so freaking lucky to have a girlfriend like her and I'm so freaking...ugh I'm so dumb!" Sam said frustrated at herself.

You stayed in the room the whole night watching movies on Netflix and working. You didn't even want your girlfriend to sleep next to you. You threw the pillows and blanket at her so she can sleep on the couch.

But while you were trying to sleep you just couldn't. And Sam couldn't sleep either. You opened the door to the bedroom and walked to see Sam still awake.

"I can't sleep". You said. "Will you come sleep next to me and hold me?" You asked Sam.

Sam smiled slightly. She nodded. "I'm coming baby". She took the blanket and the pillows into the bedroom. You got in bed as she got in bed too. As soon as Sam wrapped her arms around you, you wanted to cry.

"I'm sorry baby. I really am. I screwed up big time". Sam said.

"For our on year anniversary I got you the baseball hat you wanted. Plus a giftcard to Starbucks. It has $50 on it". You said.

"Thank baby. I feel so bad. I feel horrible. I promise tomorrow I'm gonna make it up to you. We can go anywhere you want". Sam said. "I keep screwing up I really am sorry". She said.

Sam held you tight as you hugged her. "I hate not sleeping next to you. I hate not sleeping on you". You said to Sam.

Sam kissed you on your forehead. "I have an idea. Tomorrow let's do whatever you want. What do you wanna do?" She asked you.

"Get iced coffee. Go to the collectibles place so I can buy the football Jersey. And go home and cuddle". You said.

Sam smiled. "We can definitely do that. I'll even take you to the bakery with the fancy desserts. We can eat chocolate cake together". Sam said.

You smiled. "I'd love that. But I'm still not letting you off the hook entirely. But because you apologized heres a little preview". You said.

You put her hands on your butt. "And who knows. Maybe tomorrow you may get lucky and get some lovin. A little sexy time". You said. Then you winked at her.

Sam smiled. "Oooh! Well dont worry baby I'm not ever gonna forget anything important ever again!!". And you giggled as Sam began to kiss you everywhere from your lips to your neck.

You started to moan. "Sam". You moaned as you said her name. "Baby. Our friends will hear us".

"Mmm". Said Sam. "I want them to hear us. I want them to hear you say my name". Sam said flirtatiously.

You smirked. "Oh, trust me. I'm gonna scream your name tonight". You said.

You and sam went from making love to having rough passionate sweaty sex. Sam fell asleep holding you in her arms as you fell asleep on her chest.

[archersxartxblog]

Home for the Holidays part 3

Part 2

thought this stopped at part two. wrong, here's part three. Caleb does some baking with his mom.

---

“Cream together the butter and Sugar until light and fluffy. Beat in the egg yolk and vanilla. Combine the flour and salt before adding to the creamed mixture alternately with the milk.” 

Caleb rotated his shoulder, trying to get rid of the ache that was starting to form as he read off the directions from the book. His arms were starting to kill him.

To think the jocks at school had laughed at him saying baking was not a work out. Clearly they were the kind of people who thought buying premade cookie dough from the store and sticking them in the oven counted as baking. Caleb was sure that if he did this all year then he’d be able to shot-put a snorlax.

Currently Caleb had four different batches of cookies on the going, and he still had peppermint patties and almond bark he had to make. 

He was half tempted to go and grab Fjord so that he could help with some of the mixing, just so his arms got a break.

But it would all be worth it to have some fresh baked goods for the holidays. And boy was it so much easier to bake in a real kitchen, rather than the small kitchenette that was in his and Fjord's dorm room. 

At least here, if the smoke detector went off it didn't set off the sprinkler system for half the building.

Just as he leaned in to read once more from the book, he heard the door open behind him but he paid it no mind, thinking it was just his dad or uncle or one of their pokemon looking for a snack. “let's see, next we need to-”

“Hey Caleb!” 

“Mom!” Caleb yelled, swinging around to face the door, almost dropping the bowl he was mixing.

“Hey, sorry, I didn't mean to scare you” She spoke softly, raising her hands in a calming motion. “Just come to see if you need any help, that's all.”

Within seconds, Caleb felt his eyes start to water and actively fought the urge to run over and embrace her…if only because he was covered in flour and he didn't want to get any on her. 

Quickly he set down the bowl and spoon to quickly wipe his eyes, not wanting tears to get into the mix.

It was just really good to see her again, to see her the way he remembered her. But at the same time it stirred up a lot of thoughts and feelings that easily overwhelmed him.

A gentle hand suddenly took his face away from his face, and he looked up to see his mom standing there smiling at him. “You're getting flour all over your face.” she laughed, pulling his hands down to his sides before taking some paper towel. “Here let me.” she added as she started to carefully wipe the white powder away from his face. 

and still more tears fell until his mother wiped those away too. Only for new ones to quickly replace them.

“Okay, now take a deep breath” his mother said, placing her hands on his shoulders, and Caleb did just that. “Now hold it…now let it out” they repeated the process several times until Caleb felt sure he wasn't going to burst into tears again. “Do you want me to get your phone?”

He thought about it for a second, before shaking his head. No, he didn't need the anxiety sticker on the back of his phone, right now.

“Okay, just let me know if you change your mind.” she smiled, giving his shoulders one last squeeze before standing up. “Now, do you need some help in here or do you want me to get out of your hair?”

“Don't go!” He winced as the words came far louder and more desperate than he meant them to. Taking another deep breath, he took a moment to think things through. “Yeah, I could use a hand, if you don't mind.”

“Wouldn't have asked if I minded”

Right. He quickly looked around and grabbed the bowl he had before, holding it out to his mom. “Could you finish mixing this for me? The moo moo milk hasn't quite blended into the dough yet, and I still have to melt the chocolate for it.”

“Sure. so I just keep stirring until it's all one thing?” She asked, taking the spoon from his hand and slowly stirring the ingredients.

“Yep! Just gotta keep stirring until it's all combined.” Caleb explained, pouring the chocolate melts in a bowl and popping them in the microwave. He needed that to be hot enough to melt but not scalding. “It needs to be a workable dough for the next part.”

“What are we making anyway?”

“They're called Icebox Pinwheel cookies.” Caleb answered, turning his back to his mom as he checked the Starchies in the oven, trying to hide the stupid smile on his face. He was actually baking cookies with his mom. “They’re one of the few cookies that both Dad and Uncle Emmet will eat.”

“OH the swirly ones! I always wondered how you made those. I’m normally at work with you Uncle and Dad when you bake em.”

Setting the Starchies aside on the cooling rack, Caleb quickly checked on how his mother was doing with the dough, grinning when he saw that it was done. “Okay, that’s enough. Now we need to slit it in half.”

He left his mom to divide the dough to get the chocolate. “Then we mix this into one half until it’s one uniform colour.”

“I can do that.”

As his mom worked the chocolate into one half of the dough, and Caleb started to set up for his next baking project, the two fell into easy conversation. Just simple ‘how’s school?’ ‘are you enjoying your classes?’ ‘have any good battles?’ ‘how was your trip to Hoenn?’ ‘what Pokemon did you catch?’ ‘Where are you guys planning to go next?’. Things that most mothers probably asked their kids everyday, and Caleb was enjoying every bit of it.

It had been really hard not having his mom in his life for the longest time, made only slightly harder by the fact that he had to keep her a secret. He couldn’t exactly tell the other kids at school that his mom was captain Zisu of the Galaxy team’s security corps and one of the founders of the Sinnoh league. Even if they did believe him there would be questions, and the last thing he wanted was the whole Hisui incident to be dragged back up. His dad had already been through enough.

It helped a bit in finding out that his Mom had been his dad’s Chandelure, knowing that she was always around to protect and comfort him. But at the same time it brought to light a horrible reality that his mom had in fact died, and not just that but died a long time ago. A hard truth to swallow, only helped by the fact that there was a ghostly ball of flames and metal he could hug tight.

But now he had his mom back, in the flesh, and it was probably only for a limited time, but Caleb planned to make the most of it.

“Mom,”

“Yes sweety?”

“What’s your favorite baked good?”

[rogerswifesblog-updates]

Chapter 6

Series Masterlist

A/N: Hi! It ain’t a sweet chapter, sorry:( but it’ll get better soon! Promise! I’m also thinking about posting one of the smut one shots that I’ve already written…about our sweet Stevie wearing a bunny costume and…a cute bunny tail…if you know what I mean👀

Warnings; heartbreak </3

You took out your phone, to Steve; I’m sorry, I can’t do this. It’s over.

It was over.

Steve looked down at his phone when he heard the ringtone he had just for you. A smile crept onto his lips, but it quickly disappeared. “What is it?”, Bucky asked next to him, trying to peek at his phone. He immediately showed Bucky the message, since he had to listen to Steve’s rant about you for the past few hours, so he knew everything about your situation. Maybe more than he’d like to…

But it was interesting, he had to admit. So he had listened and imagined how it would be to have a woman in charge. It sounded really…appealing. The whip? Just wow.

After reading the message he looked back at Steve, as confused as the blonde, but less hurt. “I don’t know what happened? I didn’t do anything-I mean- I…I told her I loved her but…but I thought she felt the same. Do you think it’s because of that? Because I said I loved her? God did I really mess it up so soon? Was it my fault?”, he started rambling, making Bucky shake his shoulders forcefully. “Shut up, it’s not your fault. You have to ask her. Do it now-text her-call her or god, I don’t know, go to her place. Talk to her. There has to be a reason-maybe she’s scared of the age difference? Maybe…maybe…I don’t know”, Bucky tried to think of a reason, not even suspecting Steve’s father being the cause of all this.

Steve wiped away a single tear from his cheek, that he hadn’t even noticed falling. “You’re right. I’ll drive to her place. And I’ll buy flowers-maybe chocolate? I don’t even know what flowers she liked-god maybe I shouldn’t be her boyfriend. Maybe I’d be a shit boyfriend who treats his girls awfully-“ “Steve, alone that you’re thinking and worrying about it shows you’re great. Let’s not jump to conclusions…it’s probably a misunderstanding…”, Bucky tried to calm his best friend down.

It didn’t work. Steve started sending one text message after the oh they, but none of them were delivered. Fuck.

They only had a few minutes left and as soon as the bell rang, signaling the end of classes, Steve stormed out of the room.

He drove faster than usually, pretty sure he also missed a red light, before stopping at a flower shop to buy you roses. Roses were good, right? It’s what they always buy in movies.

He felt pathetic. Not even knowing what kind of flowers to buy for a girl. Maybe you were right with ending this…relationship or whatever it was between you two. You had been right about him. He was too young. Just a teenager without any experience in…anything, really. He was still in high school. He never had a job. Barely passed maths…god, he can’t even grow a fucking beard. How could he even think he’d be good enough for you?

Was he stupid for feeling so deeply connected to you? Naive? Was it because you were the first girl he had kissed? The first sex he had? The first…person he ever loved? But you knew all of this. You wouldn’t have used him just for fun, he knew that. So what changed?

Steve looked down at his phone, then back to your building and once again to the messages.

What did I do wrong?

Why are you ending this?

I'm coming to your place so we can talk this through.

Don’t leave me. Please.

Please answer.

Y/N?

Tell what I did wrong. I’ll do better.

I promise.

Is it because of what I said? I didn’t mean to.

I mean, I did mean what I said but I didn’t mean to say it in a rush. I’m sorry.

I’m such an idiot.

Please text me back.

Did something happen?

Are you okay?

Wait…it’s not delivered?

Did you block my number?

Steve wiped away a few stray tears, quickly trying to pull himself together. Just in time for an older man to open the door, Steve quickly left his car and entered after him, walking right to your door.

Taking a deep breath he knocked at your door and waited. His hands sweaty and shaking. His breathing heavy. His vision still blurry from the previous tears. Was he weak for crying? But on the other hand he was in love for the first time. He had his first time with you…just yesterday…maybe you didn’t like how inexperienced he was? Maybe you thought he wouldn’t be good enough with all the…bdsm stuff? That’s what you called it. But he’d learn…why wouldn’t you give him a chance?

Nobody was opening the door, so he knocked again, louder. “He-hey it’s me. Steve. Can we talk?” his voice was trembling, so he tried to clear his throat, only to feel even weaker than before. His hands started shaking even more, the roses rustling against each other, some leaves falling to the floor. “Please open the door…we can talk it out. I’m sorry. Whatever I did to upset you, I’m so sorry”, he mumbled, leaning his forehead against the wood. Still no answer.

After listening for any movement he came to the conclusion you weren’t even home. His head thumbed once again against the door-then he heard a knob turn, but it wasn’t from your door. The older man from before, who apparently was your neighbor, opened her door. "Stop banging on her door! Didn't you do that enough last night? Ugh kids these days..." But seeing Steve’s swollen and red eyes with roses in his hands, he understood something had happened. “Young man, you’re a bit too late to apologise. She packed her belongings and left, not looking back”, the man looked at the heartbroken boy. Behind the thick glasses his gaze softened, while a sob escaped Steve’s throat. “But I didn’t do anything-she-she just sent me a message-didn’t even explain anything-she just left. Just like that”, Steve explained to the guy, not even caring if he was interested in listening or not. He just needed to talk about it.

“Come here, boy. I’ll make you tea and you can tell me what happened.” Steve hesitated for a moment but followed the man in his apartment, feeling incredibly safe around him, even though he was a stranger. “Now sit down at the table. I’ll make some chamomile tea. Call me Stan and who are you boy?”, said Stan, filling the kettle with water. “Steve”, he answered quietly, looking down at the roses in his hand.

Stan held out his hand for them, Steve not thinking twice before giving him these, the older man putting them in a pretty vase. “Maybe she’ll be back. We don’t want the flowers to wilt, don’t we?” Steve shook his head slowly, his shoulders slumped making himself look small.

“I’m sorry to tell you this, but she didn’t only left with a suitcase but also with another man…“, Stan said, his voice calm but sympathetic. He patted Steve’s shoulder. “It’ll be alright. You’re young. You’ll meet another girl. Or boy. Everything is possible these days. Enjoy your youth as long as you can…besides…aren’t you a bit young to bring this woman flowers?”, asked Stan, curiously but still friendly.

Steve sighed quietly. Was it really that obvious?

“I’m 18…she’s a bit older but I don’t mind. She’s amazing…she…she’s intelligent. And funny. And so good in maths…”, he mumbled, looking down at his steaming tea. “I…I really love her.”

Stan squeezed Steve should, taking his hand from him and drinking from his tea, nodding for Steve to do the same. After a few moments Stan stood up, taking cookies out and putting them on the table. “Have a cookie.” Steve did as told, mouching on the sweets. “Maybe she wasn’t meant for you, Steve. I had met my true love closer to thirty than your age. And maybe it’s just not your time yet. Sometimes we meet people for the sake of meeting and experiencing. Not for them to be a part of our life forever…they’re just in a few chapters and then…disappear. If she treated you like that, she clearly wasn’t a good person. She didn’t care about your feelings. If she did care about you, you’d find a way to be together. Age difference or not, love always finds a way”, Stans words made Steve’s heart ache. The butterflies he usually felt thinking about you made him feel sick. He could puke. He could scream. But all that really happened was more tears leaving his eyes.

With a trembling lip he looked up at Stan.

“So…it’s over?”

While Steve was spending a few hours pouring out his heart to Stan, you were at Jake's place, changing out of your wrinkled office clothes. He was calling his friends to ask about the job offer they had a while ago-and maybe someone had a place for you to stay. At least for a while. Fortunately Aisha's roommates moved out recently, so she immediately offered the room to you. And you took it. You had no other choice…

Or did you? Not if you wanted Steve to have a future. He was intelligent, a really smart and hardworking guy who deserved to go to college…you wouldn’t be the reason why he wouldn’t do it. If it meant you’d have a broken heart…then be it. He’d be happy. Steve was a sweetheart, girls loved him. And he’d find a girl that’s perfect for him. Maybe one, that is his age.

Sighing you looked at yourself in the mirror. Was it noticeable how much older you were compared to Steve? It wasn’t that much…why are you even thinking about it? It doesn’t matter anymore. It was over. You had to accept that.

You had to accept you lost Steve.

Probably the love of your life.

Doesn’t matter.

You’d get over it.

At some point…

Probably…

Maybe…

Or not…

Head shaking you brushed your hair out of your face, your neat hairstyle from when you did it this morning completely messy and tangled. The makeup you wore totally smudged.

You didn’t only look like a mess, you were one. You had no idea what would happen next. Within only a few hours everything had broken apart. Especially your heart.

And even more when you saw the few messages from Steve.

What did I do wrong?

Why are you ending this?

I'm coming to your place so we can talk this through.

Don’t leave me. Please.

Please answer.

Y/N?

Tell what I did wrong. I’ll do better.

I promise.

Then you had blocked him. The few messages broke your heart and you felt awful. Especially since he thought it was his fault. Of course the first thing Steve thought about was being at fault. That he did something wrong…

God, you were an awful human being.

“Are you hungry?”, Jake's voice brought you out of thoughts, making you look back at him. His gaze softened even more seeing your teary eyes. “It’ll be alright”, he whispered, pulling you in the hundreds hug today. Immediately more tears started pouring from your eyes.

“It won’t be, Jake…not without him.”

Next

Thank you for reading!:) I hope you enjoyed reading, the next chapter will be out soon! I think the series till be around 9 (or maybe 10) chapters long!!^^

Please don’t forget to like, comment and reblog!

Tags: @inlovewithchrisevans

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[siriuslysatorusimping]

Hi Kiko! This year has been moving really fast. It's Mardi Gras season for me right now! We are on spring break as a result and I'm trying to get a bunch of work done for my prospectus so I can hopefully be ABD by next month. I'm also currently working through a back injury that I've been managing since 2020- finally got the okay to start lifting light weights again :) And I'm spending my first Valentine's Day in three years single. I'm loving myself more than my ex ever did, so I'm actually really fucking grateful. Got myself chocolates and I'm getting takeout from my favorite restaurant tonight (they have gumbo soup dumplings and matcha cheesecake. It's amazing). A year ago, I thought my whole world was ending. I was in the process of realizing my engagement was falling apart and my grandpa was diagnosed with cancer. I was diagnosed with chronic illnesses and told I'd never not be in pain again. And while there are still rough days, I'm in less pain than I was most of last semester. I'm learning to really treasure my time with just myself and my cat. My parents and I are getting to spend time together just the three of us. And I got a cool shirt that kind of looks like the one you posted about Rinko wearing in Gokudō, soooo I'll be wearing that to my next cosplay convention :) Your stories genuinely helped me survive last year. I am so grateful I stumbled upon this little corner of the internet, and as odd as it may sound, I try to channel Rinko on my bad days. It gets me through. We're here to help get you through, too, love! Sending so much love and a metaphysical king cake your way! <3 Rai

RAI!! HELLO!!!

Mardi Gras is WILD but so fun lol

HAPPY SPRING BREAK AND GOOD LUCK ON WORK!!! ABD ALREADY?? Amazing. You’ll do amazing. I just know it. My best friend is in that boat now and it’s crazy to think about. (Especially since she’s literally growing a human inside her, too.)

I’m so, so, SO HAPPY for you that you’re loving yourself and building a better life for yourself separate from your toxic ex. BUYING ALL THE CHOCOLATES. YES. GUMBO IS ALSO INCREDIBLE.

I love that your life is already better than a year ago. I hate that you had to go through so much, but it’s beautiful how you were able to find your strength to get through it all and come out even better! 💕

I’m so grateful and humbled that Another Level and Rinko helped you. They helped me too. They saved me. This little corner helped save me. Realizing that something I created could actually make any kind of difference really did save me from despair because I believed nothing I did was worth anything and would never amount to anything.

Rinko is so fun and beautiful and strong and I’ve realized that many of my favorite of her traits are ones I wished I could have. Her courage specifically. Her courage in the face of so much misery and hardship and choosing to still be the person who loves and cares and is kind. I think that’s one reason people loved her so much. She’s not stupidly or obliviously nice. She sees and hears and feels the pain and anger and bitterness but still chooses to not let them define who she is. She knows that there’s enough hatred in the world without her adding to it. She’s not perfect, she makes mistakes and she gets angry and she sometimes lets those drive her, but at the end of the day, she still doesn’t let them define her entirely. They’re just part of her existing as a human.

Rinko is a beautifully messy human, just like the rest of us. We’re all messy and emotional and imperfect, but without those things, life would be boring and empty.

I started writing this days ago and I had to save it to my drafts because I wanted to dedicate enough attention to it because messages like these really do pull me out of the darkness. Life has been kicking my ass so hard. Everyone around me keeps saying I’m doing so well and handling things in the best way possible, but that in itself is so exhausting. I’m exhausted. To be perfectly honest, I feel so, so fragile. But I know that’s a sign of my strength because I get up every morning and keep going even when it feels too heavy.

Rai, you are a beautiful human who is doing so incredible and you are so strong for working to be better for you. I’m proud of you and I’m proud to consider you a friend 💕

Also, I’ve been working on lil chibi designs for myself because I want to use them to order a custom case for my new earbuds and I will share one of the lil Gojo chibis I’ve been making.

Admittedly, writing has been difficult lately. I’m in the mood to write angst but I can’t figure out what it would be and I also want to write the Valentine’s Day blurb so badly. I’ll get it done eventually, I promise.

[happyocelot]

If you're writing for the "Domestic Ship Meme", may I request AnkoKabu for all the scenarios on that list, please? I love the way you characterize people/ships and I'm super interested to see how these two behave together. Thank you very much for reading! :>

Sure! I don't know who you are, but I think you might be the KakaAnko anon. Or someone who knows KakaAnko anon! Lol. I will get to that request too, so don't worry, KakaAnko anon!

This is a rarer and if I may say...unusual pairing, so it was fun to come up with answers!

send me a ship and i’ll tell you:

who reaches out to new neighbors

Kabuto is very fake-friendly, so he might say hi to the neighbors first. Remember how he greeted Naruto and make himself seem trustworthy? The neighbors would trust him too. I think his fake-friendliness would give way to the real thing post-war. He could be a very likeable neighbor.

Anko is liable to accidentally or even purposely terrify her neighbors before they warm up to her and realize she's a kind person.

who remembers to buy healthy food

Kabuto. After years of research in Orochimaru's disturbing labs, he knows nutrition very well, down to everyone's exact required calorie count.

who remembers to buy junk food

Anko. If she had her way, there would only ever be dango in the house. Lol.

who fixes the oven when it breaks

Kabuto. He's a good handyman.

who waters the plants/feeds their pet(s)

Kabuto. Anko would kill any plant she touched by accident. However, the pets would love her more even though Kabuto takes great care to keep them comfortable and happy. Anko is the fun lady the animals spend time around. 🤣

who wakes up earlier

Anko would wake Kabuto up at 3 am by crashing in through the window with a giant banner. I don't know if she would ever sleep normally.

who makes the bed

Kabuto.

who makes the coffee

...Kabuto.

who burns breakfast

Anko burns breakfast with great cheerfulness.

how do they let each other know they’re leaving the house

Anko: "All right, bitches, I'll be outta town for the next few hours! If you need me, don't call until AFTER I finish my all-dango lunch break. Okay? Cool."

Kabuto: Writes brief notes stuck to the fridge.

how do they greet each other when one of them gets home

Kabuto: standard normal friendly greeting

Anko: Greets like...well, we all know she would throw sharp objects at someone. In a friendly way. Maybe with a little blood.

who brings home little gifts like flowers/chocolates more often

I think Kabuto. He could be thoughtful in this regard.

Anko only gets people dango as a gift and nothing else. Nothing else.

who picks the movie for movie night

Anko picks out fun movies to watch. Some of them are creepy/weird/gruesome, but most of them are enjoyable action, adventure, and comedy.

their favorite kind of movie to watch

Something with popular street foods around the world, I guess. Despite being Orochimaru's proteges, they have conventional tastes in movies.

who first suggests a pillow fort

Neither.

who builds the pillow fort

...Kabuto. Gives him happy memories of Nono and his orphanage.

who tries to distract the other during the move

Anko. It doesn't work.

who falls asleep first

Neither of them fall asleep fast, but when Anko does, she snores loudly.

who is big spoon/little spoon

Anko would hog all the blankets and push someone off the mattress in her sleep, so I don't think this would happen! 😆

[purplesurveys]

1575

As kids, were there any toys that you & your sibling(s) used to fight over? Come to think of it we actually didn’t argue much over toys, even if we’re very close in age. Most if not all our fights as kids were just caused by one of us being an ass and somebody hitting somebody first.

Do you own any colouring books as an adult? What kind(s)? Yes, I still keep the couple ones I bought back in like 2017 somewhere in my room in the case that I’d want to go back to coloring.

Have you ever tried Raspberry Pepsi? Did you like it? No, I’m not sure if we had (have?) that here and I’m not a big soda drinker in the first place so.

Do you remember how old you were, the first time you used a computer? I was around 3 or 4; my dad had Need For Speed on his computer + complete with steering wheel and pedal controllers and he let me play when I asked.

What kinds of ice-cream do you have in your freezer right now, if any? We have a couple packs of chocolate-flavored Samanco ice cream in there.

Do you have any idea when you'll next attend a wedding? Whose will it be? So cool I encountered this question now because my closest cousin just proposed to his now-fiancée tonight! :) Guess I’ll be going to theirs in a couple of years.  

Name someone you know who has green eyes. Nobody around here.

As a kid, did you own any items of clothing with a Disney character on them? For sure. For some reason I had many Winnie the Pooh stuff, but I also have photos as a toddler wearing Minnie Mouse.

^Do you own any such items as an adult? I might still have things around with Disney branding on them, but I wouldn’t be able to name them off the top of my head; they’re likely buried somewhere in my room.

Is there any food in your house that has orange packaging? Yeah my dad buys this brand of breadcrumbs that if I remember correctly comes in orange packing.

Do you enjoy any songs by Phil Collins? Not in particular.

Have you ever used a walkie-talkie? Yes, my uncle kept a set around when we were kids but I think they were broken because they never worked when we tried using them.

Tell me about the last conversation you had that sparked your interest. What did you discuss, and with whom? The aforementioned cousin proposing. I just asked him if he did it, which he confirmed, and I repeatedly told him not to tell me anything about it just yet and to wait until the next time we see each other in person. But I asked him for a photo of his fiancée’s hand with the ring on it hahahaha

Do you own anything that is crocheted? I used to...Kata gave me a crocheted face mask that her mom made, but I can’t seem to remember where it is anymore. :(

Any idea what you were doing at 3PM last Wednesday? I was at work and was inside a virtual call at the time.

Do you watch any of the dating shows, or are they not your sort of thing? Not my thing; being demi I’ve always found them a bit cringe.

Do you own any bath bombs? What scent(s)? We don’t even have a bathtub, so...

Have you ever had an appliance in your home break at a particularly inconvenient time? What happened? This doesn’t tick any of the boxes in this question lol but we once had the plumbing in the downstairs bathroom get completely fucked up, which is always inconvenient regardless of when it happens. I won’t get into the details but suffice it to say we had to keep that door locked for a couple of days.

Are there any movies you enjoy that are in black-and-white? Roman Holiday is my favorite out of all of them.

As a child, did you ever do any baking, with your mum, grandma, or another relative? What kind of things did you bake together? Yes, but not regularly. I have a few memories of baking cookies with my aunt and grandma.

In the last week, have you had any dreams that were strange or amusing? I’m sure I’ve had, but I don’t remember any of them.

What will you most likely be doing in 3 hours' time? I just want to still be in bed but with a newly-filled cup of coffee.

[kifu]

My little guys are starting to grow up. <3

So the raccoon that's been taking out my flock is caught. My wife wants to shoot him, so I wait for her to wake up, teach her gun safety, and then we shoot him dead. I think I'll keep his fur and keep it in my stash of to-do furs after a Dawn bath.

I haven't looked because I'm not messing with a live raccoon, but I'm pretty sure it's a mature male. It's big. Maybe it's what killed my gold laced pullet last year. Never caught whatever was killing my chicks, just kept it out of the pens.

Our candy corn polish are both dead. I think I have two eggs from the hen, the first of which I'm not even sure is fertilized because I JUST put them together. I can work with ONE candy corn, but that's going to be a LOT of luck.

The raccoon ripped her up. Just killed the cock and left him for dead. He doesn't even have any blood on him that I can see, just a lot of missing feathers. He was a very, VERY good boy. And that's nuts, from a polish. I am pissed.

It's a huge, huge relief to catch this fucker. I think it's big enough that it's the only one in the territory, but that doesn't mean I'll stop trapping.

I might be able to start planning for next year.

I'm officially pullorum certified as of today. I can buy my supply of antigen whenever I feel like it. I can NPIP my flock any time I want now. I do need to have a discussion with the wife about that, because in Michigan it's $300 just to the state to get registered with NPIP. Which I believe is the highest in the country. Neither of us are shipping this year, but I do want to be NPIP status by the time I can ship next year.

We have very frustrating turkeys that were very expensive and very rare. Most of the flock is Cgcg (gray?) or sweetgrass, and everything is penciled. So we have penciled sweetgrass, tigers, penciled fall fires - all various recessive reds, black, and slate based. We'd like to make some money back on them.

I have some cochin from competitive sources now. My black, blue, and mottled are fairly established. My chocolate project is mostly dead in water after my hen died. I have a chance at lavender. Well, I have hatchery stock lavender, too, but I'd like to not use them if I have the chance; I now have TWO split lavenders from the best lav breeder I know of in the country.

I have ONE mille project pullet. I wanted a cockerel, but whatever. She is the only one (of this color and project) that lived through the week where my babies were dying, but she's also the only one that met all the criteria: brown, feather legged (and footed!). The cockerel I had growing up was the "blue" and I really think that it WASN'T blue and that mossiness or whatever it was was going to end up roasting me. Plus, he was only feather shanked, so this pullet is so much nicer than he would have been. I have so many mottled blacks from her parents, and I think I'm at about a 4% brown feather legged hatch rate when it was supposed to be around ... 11%? So yay stats in my favor.

I have gold laced! I had ten shipped to me, nine lived. Two are cockerels, so seven are pullets. Nuts stats on that one. They're still young, as seen in picture, so I have noooo idea what I'm working with yet.

I have some surviving silver laced! Y'know, what I REALLY wanted from the hatchery. I have one surviving silver laced hen from the raccoon. I have two cockerels and one pullet from the hatchery. Again, no idea what I'm working with yet. But while the hen I have is very stiff in the tail, and her lacing is meh, she has some pretty decent structure to her body. I have no babies out of that hen yet this year. I think I'm giving her another couple weeks with my partridge boy before I switch her over to the red shouldered blue laced yellow cross cock. REALLY wanted a red shouldered yellow laced cockerel from her and the partridge, though. *pout*

I have no partridge offspring this year! They're doing horribly! But half the hens in that pen started sitting this week, so I'll see what they can do.

I have no laced project babies this year! Awesome! That's only a major inconvenience!

I have one chocolate mottled houdan that hatched. I'm pretty sure it's a pullet out of the blue that I killed after he attacked my face. I think I'll dismantle that pen pretty soon. I have some houdans I got from the hatchery, too, so I get to have choices for the houdan pen next year. They need to be bred a lot heavier than they currently are. They look like polish to me, and not even good ones at that.

I've made progress so far this year, but my hatches have been shiiiiiit, so not nearly as much progress as I would have liked. I don't want to hatch too late into the summer! I don't like fall babies.

[journalingjourneyofaa]

Life Update

Hello, everyone! I hope all of you are well. It has been a while since I've updated this personal blog.

Just to update, our area was spared from the past typhoon and we are all safe. Unfortunately, some provinces were affected by the typhoon and there were casualties.

I just hate how things are turning out to be. With the current administration, I couldn't see any glimmer of hope from all this.

Honestly, I don't know what to say here because I have messy thoughts right now. But lemme give you a recap of what happened while I was away for a couple of weeks:

September 25, 2022: The stormed passed Northern and Central Luzon; leaving a lot of damages and casualties

September 28, 2022: We found out that my Dad is COVID-19 positive; I was still negative at this time

September 29, 2022: I started developing symptoms; I started to lose my senses and my sore throat is getting worse; asked permission to file a sick leave for tomorrow

September 30, 2022: I was on sick leave and I tested positive for COVID-19 for the first time; I was feverish the whole day and I couldn't stand for too long because I felt dizzy very easily and I also lost all my sense of smell and taste at this time; my sore throat has developed into dry cough

October 1, 2022: I had my period while I have COVID-19 (absolutely the WORST experience I could ever have); my dry cough is starting to become a productive cough but my phlegm was too sticky and it hurts when I cough

October 2, 2022: My Mom started developing symptoms but still negative; I had experienced the worst cough of my entire life and experienced panic attacks because the phlegm blocked by airway

October 3, 2022: My Mom tested positive for COVID-19; went back to work even though I was still unwell; we don't have COVID-19 leaves; this was also the day my niece in Canada was born, her name is Talitha Corazon

October 8, 2022: I still tested positive on this day but I was already fine on this day except for my sense of smell and taste

October 9, 2022: I met a white cat with heterochromia at our backyard; I ate Carbonara Samyang and sausages from K-Mart

October 12, 2022: I finally tested negative from COVID-19; still trying to get my senses back

October 13, 2022: I ordered chewy brown butter salted dark chocolate cookies; it was so good; my 1 set of water glass finally arrived

October 14, 2022: My mom tested negative from COVID-19 on this day; my brother and I went out to eat dinner at Army Navy and I had soft tacos

October 15, 2022: Me, my Mom and my brother went out to do groceries together; we had coffee at the Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf afterwards (I've missed this!)

October 16, 2022: We went to Makati City and finally got to buy PICKUP Coffee for me and my brother; We had ramen at Ippudo and I reached 14K steps on this day!; I slept at my brother's house and spent time with my nephew

October 17, 2022: I supervised my nephew's online class; He had 16 trophies on this day and perfected his tests/worksheets; Went back home at my parent's house because I lack sleep and I still have work the next day

October 18, 2022: I feel completely shitty and unmotivated that is why I decided to go back and update this. Honestly, I forgot my password here but I will try to make time for this later. I am still working as of this writing so I will probably just make another post later about different things

Be right back.

[maizumis]

— HAIKYUU BOYS WHEN THEIR CHILD SAYS THEY ARE NOT THEIR FAVORITE PARENT

ft. timeskip!miya atsumu, suna rintarou, iwaizumi hajime, bokuro koutaro, osamu miya

note: reader refered as mom ‼️ not edited cos I'm sleepy </3 enjoy hotties 😽

•ATSUMU opened the door with his daughter in one hand while the other had a huge blue balloon she wanted, hearing the click of the door you turn around and see your little bundle of joy running with open arms to you "mommy! I missed you" event if the two of them went out for an hour and a half, you really missed her too "aww darling! I missed you too! I'm your favorite, right?" she gave your cheek a sweet kiss with his tiny hands in your jaw "yes! mommy the best" at this scene, atsumu was long forgotten on the door, amused about what his daughter just said "and what about papa? he bought you this balloon!" he moved his hand to make presence of it, slightly jealous of you "papa is very good too! it's just mommy is always the best" you let go of her embrace, tucking her brown hairs behind her ear "why don't you go and clean yourself? I can make a choco milk!" she didn't need to be told twice that was already running to the bathroom " ‘tsumu you know she doesn't mean it, right?" pouty atsumu came walking to you "a know but a want to be her favorite now!" chuckling at his childhood behavior, you make sure to peck him before going to the kitchen, even after all this year's you never failed to make him blush "you can be her favorite tomorrow ‘tsum, come hug me now"

• SUNA had his daughter on his lap, paw patrol playing softly on the TV in front of them, you always tease him about how he is more into the show than his own daughter but he is quickly to change the subject, everytime "how was your day at school baby?" the little girl raised her head from his chest, messy hairs blocking her sight " ‘t was okay, I missed mom" his hand was already on the hairs in front of her eyes, using the hair-band he always had on his wrist just in case something like this popped out "and you missed dad too I like to think" she hummed before resting her head on his torso again, little hands roaming around his body like she was caressing him "I did, but mommy is my favorite so I missed her more... I'm gonna go to sleep daddy, wake me up when mom ‘s home" and with that she was out, leaving suna with wide eyes and lots of questions filling his brain, the clack of the open door scares him, even knowing it's you coming home from work, he was deep in thought "a penny for your thoughts, rin?" he sighs before patting the place next to him on the couch, you gladly obey and lay your head on his broad shoulders "she told me you're her favorite" you interlaced your fingers with his, giving him a little squish "you know she is just a child, right? she lives you so much, everytime you're away she only talks about you" a little hope came back to his eyes "really, she talks about me?" you hummed, assuring him he is the one of the biggest thing in his daughters mind "lots, rin"

•IWAIZUMI was playing with his daughter in the backyard, his hands on both sides her waist while he throws her up and down the air "higher daddy! higher!" her little giggle brought life to his ears, this kid was gonna be the death of him "I wanna fly! like the birds we saw in the park!" "that's very high, sweetie" she was screaming her lungs out, non-stop laughing, toothy smile on her face that had a little of chocolate that Hajime gave her after lunch as a secret between the both of them. to lost in their own world, they didn't notice your arrival, they were having the times of their lifes "I'm home! where's my sweet girl and lovely husband?" her eyes got wider than they already were and her smile impossibly bigger "mama! you're home, put me down dad I wanna go hug mom!" he placed her down on the grass and her little legs were running as fast as they could "mommy! we had such a funny day! we saw lots of things outside?" you could tell hajimd was a proud dad, his daughter being talkative and smart, she sometimes reminds him of tooru "yeah? and what else" "I was telling daddy I wanted to be a bird but I missed you so much! you know you're my favorite, mom" hajime's lips were pressed into a thin line while his brows got a little down, you could tell he was feeling a little insecure so a little assurance wouldn't make him wrong "go inside and change your clothes then we can do something together, how does that sound?" she went inside the house screaming he was gonna wear her favorite blue dress, you giggled at her cute actions "hajime, the entire neighborhood can feel you, she doesn't mean it, she is just a child, we did the same when we were her age" he went towards you and placed his big arms around your waist, placing his head on the crook of your neck "I know, but we were having such a good time" your hands came to his face so you could make him see you "and we are gonna keep having a good time! we have to make sure you're her favorite by the end of the day, come on big boy! we are in this together" and with that you started running inside the house, holding his hand in the way in, the feeling of love and pride fulfilling his heart, happiness and love could be described like this exact moment, he thinks

•BOKUTO happily took his son out, ready to spend a little ‘daddy-son day’ as he called them, sometime they would go to his practice or to the aquarium! to learn everything they can about the infinity of animals the ocean has. today they decided they would be going for an ice-cream then straight to the park to play a little "okay bud! what flavors do you want? one or two?" the kiddo look up to the list of flavours that were in front of him ‘so many choises’ he thought before speaking "chocolate and vanilla please!" his choose of flavors made bokuto think about the old days, when you would wait for him in highschool after every practice to go on a date, you always, and he means always, wanted to eat vanilla ice-cream, I didn't matter the occasion "you know, your mom loves vanilla ice-cream! what if we buy a little for her?" his little golden eyes were shinning at the mention of his mom "yes! she's my favorite so she deserves ice-cream for being a good mommy" mid way taking his wallet out of his pocket, bokuto stops, looking directly to the floor "I'm sorry, your favorite what?" "my favorite parent! duh" he tried, he really tried not to have an episode in front of everyone but his deflated hair was exposing him "oh, that's good! your momma is perfect!" "she indeed is, dad!" the laugh of his son made him feel a little better, but ache on his heart was still there; after both of them has their ice-creams in hand, they started walking towards the park hand in hand "yummy! daddy this is delicious! you're absolutely my favorite!" like that? kids changes of opinion that fast? either way, his heart was pumping with joy "of course I'm your favorite! let's go play and the we can buy more ice- cream!" needless to say, you had a fridge full of icecream that night and two sugar rushed boys

•OSAMU has one twin in either side of him, his little girl with two pigtails while is beautiful boy had a green apron on "I know mommy will love this!" the little boy exclaimed, his daughter quickly following behind "uh-huh! mommy always love when we cook for her" osamu was happy he had this life, he didn't expect to have twins the first try but here he was, bragging about his perfect set of kids to his brother every chance he had "yer mommy loves both of ya so much" the kids were trying to make the onigiri shape with the rice while giggling "I know mommy love us! she is my favorite indeed" osamu's heart skipped a beat after hearing is daughters words "ugh she is my favorite too! I love it when mama let us sleep with her" but why is he saying this when he lets them sleep with him too? "that's right! we need to make this onigiri perfect so she is proud" nervously chuckling to erase a little the tension he was feeling "okay, daddy keeps going from here, go set the table and change yer smelly clothes!" the kids were racing to their respective bedrooms, yelling how they were gonna be prettier than the other one. the younger twin was so deep in thought leaning on the kitchen counter that he didn't acknowledge your presence "samu, baby, I'm here, everything okay?" his features relaxing when he saw you, gently placing one hand in your chin to kiss you "everything good sweetheart, the kids just told me yer their favorite parent so am just thinking a lil" you were laughing at his concern, those same kids told you this morning that his papa was their favorite "you want to know something fun ‘samu?" he raised a brow before his hands found home on your waist, gently pressing your chest to his "what, love" your hand came to play with the hairs he has on the forehead "this kids told me this morning you were his favorite, don't take to seriously what they said ‘samu, they love you unconditionally" taking your advice, he pecked you before hearing little steps coming to the room "our alone time has ended angel, a love ya" finishing his words with a sweet kiss

[snackhobi]

a human touch, part I

Part [1] / 1.5 / 2

(masterlist here)

pairing: taehyung x f!reader / word count: 13.3k / genre: robot!taehyung/virgin!reader, fluff, future smut (NSFW, 18+)

summary: everyone knows that androids don’t think, or feel, or have emotions. they’re not human, after all. so when a two hour session with a sex android ends up with nothing more than a nice conversation, you think that’s the first and last time you’ll see v. 

then he turns up at your door. 

warnings: talk of sex work (taehyung is a sex android), implied physical harassment (mentions of bruising), cursing/explicit language, mentions of alcohol, honestly this is a lot softer than these warnings would make you think I swear 🤧

a/n: I started writing this fic like 2/3 months ago and then put it on hiatus bc god it was kicking my entire ass. but ya girl is finally back to working on it! it’ll be two parts, because this fic is a big one! I hope to have the next chapter out next week/the week after (but no promises kdsflkfdfsdf) thank you @hobi-gif​ for loving this fic so wholeheartedly and supporting me while I struggled with it, queen shit ONLY. note: this is loosely a detroit: become human au but you don’t have to be familiar with it at all!

Here are the three things you know about the Eden Club.

One: it’s a sex club. Everyone knows that. Besides, even if they didn’t, all it would take is a single look—the soft blue lighting that shines out from the windows, the screens behind the glass that flash images of shifting and undulating bodies, the heavy beat of music that pulsates from the building and out into the night air; everything murmurs of the promised pleasures that are held within. 

Two: it’s a sex club entirely staffed by androids. Androids make better lovers, according to the ads. They might look human but they don’t have free will like you do—anything you ask for, you’re given without question or reproach. They can’t say no to you. They’re entirely at your command.

Three: you don’t ever want to go to the Eden Club. It’s not that you have anything against androids—because you don’t—but you feel bad for the ones who are owned by the club, even if they’re literally only built and programmed to serve humans. It just feels… wrong.

And here’s the fourth thing you’ve just learned about the club, much to your dismay: you are about to head inside it.

“When you said we were going to a club, I thought we were going dancing,” you whine. “I never would have come out if I’d know you meant here.”

You’ve been staring up at the cursive pink neon sign for a while now, the looping letters of Eden Club shining out in the dark evening air, and you really, really wish you weren’t here. You’ve dressed for a night of dancing and drinking and now you feel woefully uncomfortable, your high heels and short skirt almost as scandalous as the outfits the androids are wearing when they slide across the huge screens.

“That’s why we didn’t tell you which club it was.” Seulgi rolls her eyes and once again tries to tug you towards the building with the arm that’s looped with your own. Just out of arm’s reach, Irene holds your bag hostage. “Come on, your session is going to start soon!”

“My session?” Your voice is an incredulous shrill and Seulgi uses the momentary distraction to finally pull you forward. You stumble a little but catch your balance just as you make your way past the bouncer, who’s been watching the three of you impassively since you got here. “What do you mean, my session?”

“For your birthday, duh. We booked you a private room!”

The inside has the same, sleek neon aesthetic as the outside, but instead of images of androids on a screen, these ones are real and standing in front of you—swinging themselves around glowing poles, rolling their hips and swaying their bodies, while others wait patiently in glass pods that line the walls, leaning towards onlookers and moving as tantalisingly as possible. All ready to be rented at a whim.

Their designs are varied and different but they’re all incredibly beautiful. The only feature they all share is the small, blue LED circle on the side of their temple, light spinning and shining as they take the world in around them. A visual reminder to the world that these aren’t flesh and blood humans: they’re synthetic, man-made machines.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been so uncomfortable in my life.” You desperately try to avoid the eyes of a nearby android who’s staring at you from behind glass, trying to subtly catch your attention. Unlike you, though, all the other patrons here are shameless in their perusal, scanning the selection of androids on display and watching as they dance and move and bat their eyelashes. “Why did you ever think I’d want to come to a sex club for my birthday?”

“Remember Valentine’s Day? You said that instead of flowers or chocolate you’d rather just be dicked down,” Irene says. “Besides, you’ve never been in a relationship or had a fling for as long as we’ve known you, and you moved to the company, what… three years ago?”

Your smile is pained. You’ve never been in a relationship or had a fling full stop; you’ve only kissed a few people and that’s it. It makes you feel awkward and embarrassed, and you’ve gotten Very Good at avoiding questions about your complete lack of a love life, so no one realises exactly how inexperienced you are. People just assume that you’ve had sex in the past and you make no attempts at correcting them. You’re charismatic and pretty but you’ve just… never met someone who you’ve really been compatible with.

Even without the reservations you have about the Eden Club, you don’t want your first time to be with a sexbot—you’d at least like to have an emotional connection, you know?

“I was joking about getting dicked down! You laughed, I laughed, we all laughed! Remember?” You move so a pink-haired android can brush past, her hips swaying as she leads a customer into a side room. You catch a flash of the interior before the door slides shut behind them—the silken sheets on the large bed, the scattered pillows, the dim multi-coloured lights. “Couldn’t you have just bought me some socks? Or some soap? Get a refund and put the money on a gift card and I’ll buy myself the aforementioned socks and soap, saves you both the hassle. Please?”

Seulgi’s arm is still locked with your own, and for all that she looks small and slim, her grip is as strong as iron. You may as well be handcuffed to her. “Trust me, you’ll be singing our praises at the end of tonight,” she proclaims. “Besides, they don’t do refunds.”

You sigh. You might not know much about the club but you do know it’s expensive. The androids here are built to be the perfect sexual partner, all sorts of bells and whistles hidden under their synthetic skin to bring you to the absolute heights of pleasure, so they’re not exactly cheap to build or buy or maintain. It’s why people come to the club instead of just buying their own sexbots—because it’s infinitely more affordable.

“Okay, I can accept the ‘no refund’ thing,” you say. “But can’t one of you take my place instead? I… ah. I feel kind of weird about this.”

“Don’t worry Y/n, it’s fine! The androids have programmes for everything. You can take it as fast or as slow as you like.” Irene’s voice is soothing but then she pauses. “Also it’s booked in your name so we can’t take your place.”

“Wait, what?” Your eyes are wide. However, before you can put a voice to the complaints that are lining themselves up on your tongue, Seulgi’s arm slides out of your own so she can beckon someone over. 

“Oh, look, it’s the android we chose for you! Over here!”

You glance away from Irene and all protestations instantly die on your lips. The lighting of the club softens the android in shades of magenta and teal but even so his beauty is bright and blinding: he’s breathtaking, from his perfect nose to his perfect mouth to the perfect line of his jaw, dusty brown hair deliciously tousled as it hangs just over his piercing blue eyes, which you notice are scanning over you. He looks effortlessly attractive and yet entirely put together at the same time, almost ethereal in his beauty.

No human could ever look this good.

“Hi.” His voice is low and deep, but somehow warm and friendly; despite your nerves you feel somewhat soothed. “Are you the lucky birthday girl?”

Irene and Seulgi both look giddy. You’ve been stunned into silence, unable to respond. Unlike the other androids you’ve seen so far, who’ve all been in similar variations of underwear or lingerie, the man in front of you is fully dressed, a loose metallic button-down tucked into unnecessarily tight leather jeans—the outfit has clearly been curated for the club, every reflective surface shimmering and refracting the lights that skate across their surface. The glittering scales of a barracuda before it moves in to strike and swallow you whole.

“Yes, yes, it’s her! This is Y/n! Y/n, this is V,” Irene gushes as you remain mute. "Do you like his outfit? We spent ages picking it out.”

You kind of want to die. Just a little. “Yep. It’s, uh, great.” Your mouth is dry when you finally speak. “Hi, V.”

V gives you a small smile. “Hello Y/n. Can I scan your ID, please?”

Irene finally hands your bag back and you silently slide your ID out and into V’s hand—oh, God, those are some big hands. Jesus.

The small LED ring on the side of V’s forehead pulses yellow as his eyes dart over the information on your ID card (as well as the incredibly unflattering photo on it) before it returns to its customary pale blue. “Perfect.”

You’ve just finished putting your ID away when V’s hand slides into yours, fingers slotting between your own; they feel cool against your overheated skin. Your nervousness is obvious, from your wide eyes to your sudden stiffness, and he smiles.

“Don’t worry,” he says. “I’ll look after you.”

You give Irene and Seulgi one final, wide-eyed look as V leads you away. Both girls are grinning as they wave goodbye. “We'll be back later! Enjoy your two hours!”

“Two hours?” You wheeze, but then you walk around a pillar and slide out of sight. 

V is leading you deeper into the club, past doors flooded with different shades of neon: the red room, the blue room, the pink room. You’d normally be gawping at the interior design, how the floor shines underneath your feet and how the walls are rippling with colour and shifting shapes, how the criss-crossed lights throw dots and lines of colour over your skin as you pass through each doorway—but you can’t look away from how small your hand looks in V’s, transfixed by how real his skin feels.

“After you, please,” he says.

You finally wrench your eyes away from your joint hands. Seems like you have the purple room tonight. The door has opened at V’s touch, and when you step inside the lights flicker to life—white and violet LEDs that paint the room in chiaroscuro brushstrokes, deepening the shadows and highlighting the vibrancy of the satin sheets.

“Woah,” you say, momentarily distracted. You’re too busy taking in the details with wide eyes to notice the quiet hum of the door sliding shut behind you, pausing when you spot the glittering array of bottles lined up on a mini-bar against the wall. “This is really pretty, wow.”

“Not as pretty as you.”

You jump at the sensation of a warm, large hand sliding up the skin of your back and over your shoulder. You meep as you instinctively shy away from it, turning around to come face to face with V, who’s dark-eyed and intent, LED on his temple pulsating as he watches you.

“Haha! Uh, thanks?” Your voice is high and only grows higher when V takes a step forward. He must have undone the top buttons of his shirt when you weren’t looking, because the material has fallen open and you can see far more of his collarbones and chest than before, his skin warm and honeyed, like it’s been impressed with gold leaf. Lord have mercy on your soul. “How about a drink? Would you like a drink? I could kill for some water right now!”

You slip out of his reach and scuttle over to the mini-bar, shrugging your small bag off your shoulder so it doesn’t swing into the glasses as you start to shuffle through them. You try to ignore the shaking of your hands. “Gin, vodka, whiskey,” you mutter. “No water? Really?”

You startle again when V appears at your side, but this time he’s careful to make sure you can see him before he touches you. He slides his fingers over your wrist as he gently pulls your hand off a bottle of rum.

“Y/n,” he says. You glance away from the tray of drinks and directly into those beautiful eyes of his—his gaze is lethal. You go weak at the knees. “Let me take care of you, gorgeous.”

The peal of laughter you let out is uncomfortable and high-pitched. “No, really, I’m fine! I’m just super thirsty right now!”

“Your heart is racing.” V turns your hand over and traces his fingers across the pulse in your wrist; androids can be built to be hypersensitive to the world around them, able to perceive everything in an instant, and you know that sexbots will have been designed to read how aroused their human owners are. Which V proves with the next words out of his mouth. “Your blood pressure is rising, your breathing is growing faster, your pupils are dilating and—” he sniffs lightly, engaging his olfactory senses—“you’re getting wet.”

You clamp your legs together, abruptly embarrassed.  It’s easy to feel aroused when there’s a beautiful man—ah, android—staring at you with hunger, not even considering your surroundings right now, which all scream of a room that’s designed purely for carnal pleasure. Anyone would be turned on. 

(You, however, are more than just turned on. You feel like your insides are about to go supernova, overheated and overwhelmed; no one’s ever looked at you like this or touched you like this, their every motion whispering sex, sex, sex.)

“Okay, yes, those things are all true,” you admit, voice shaking.

V looks confused. “So why don’t you want me to touch you?”

You’ve been told that androids don’t feel the same way humans do, and that their expressions and reactions have been programmed to mimic human ones because otherwise they seem too robotic and it makes consumers uncomfortable—but despite knowing this, you’ve never been able to see any android as anything other than a person just like you. They’re just so lifelike it’s hard not to. Even if it’s just all circuitry and lines of code. 

“Well,” you say. You swallow. You’re aroused, yes, but: “Do you want to touch me?”

V’s long lashes flutter as he blinks. “I have been programmed for your pleasure,” he says slowly, unsure if that’s the answer you want to hear. It’s clearly a sentence he’s used to reciting.

“Sure, but do you want to do this? You know, what about your pleasure? You’re lovely, V, you’re definitely the most beautiful person I’ve ever met, but I—I don’t really feel like you can technically consent, because… well, because you can’t say no to me.” You might not have prior sexual experience, and it would be so easy to give yourself over to someone who knows what they're doing and can ease you into things—but you would never force that on anyone, android or not. “So I’m not going to ask you to do anything. We can just sit and have a drink and chat or something?”

V looks stunned. The LED on his temple pulsates, flickering yellow as he tries to process new information. His hand has gone still against your wrist, which he’s still lightly gripping, and his arms start to droop.

“Androids don’t need to drink or eat,” he says eventually. His LED is still yellow and spinning.

“Oh, right! Sorry, I always forget.” You don’t own a house android, you never have, so you’re not well versed in the nuances of how they work. “Well, how about I pour you a glass anyway? So you’re not left out?”

You slip your hand out of his loose grasp to open two tiny cans of tonic water and pour them into separate glasses. V takes a seat on the edge of the bed and you can see the obvious uncertainty on his face, how he’s out of his depth. You can’t imagine that many people spend money for a session with an android as pretty as V and then end up doing nothing with that time. 

The pillows all have satin cases and keep sliding against each other uselessly when you try to construct a good support to lean against. V’s still clutching onto his small glass as he watches you fuss with them before you give up, flopping backwards to slurp down your drink and look back at him. The expression on his face is a little funny but mostly sad. It’s like if he’s not being alluring or sexy then he doesn’t know what to do with himself and rather than some sort of incubus he looks like a lost child, in spite of his overwhelming and exquisite beauty; your arousal ebbs and is replaced with empathy, melancholy at the life he’s been created for.

It's just depressing, really.

You break the silence as your final mouthful of tonic water fizzes on your tongue. “Why is your name V?”

V looks away from the drink he’s holding—he leaves no fingerprints against the glass—and lifts his free hand, a peace sign that he turns away from you before fitting his fingers around his lips and lapping the air with his tongue, a crude simulation of cunnilingus.

“Oh.” Your face heats up. “Uh. I see.”

His LED has returned to calming sapphire, quiet ocean waves. When he looks at you, though his eyes are still piercingly blue, his face seems softer, calm, though still unsure. “You have an hour and a half remaining of your booked session,” he says, somewhat tentatively. “Is there… anything you would like me to do for you?”

“Mm, thank you, but I’m good.” The satin pillows are surprisingly soft and you find yourself unwinding as you stay leaned back, melting into a puddle. You're much less nervous now that V isn’t trying to initiate foreplay and you give him a smile. “Why don’t you tell me about yourself?”

V straightens before he launches into what sounds like a sentence from a user manual. “I am a model TH700, an advanced sex android with functional genitals and the capacity to engage in any sexual activity from simple intercourse to—”

You cough loudly, interrupting his spiel. “Uh, that’s lovely, but I meant you specifically, not your, um, model type?”

“Me specifically?” Confusion and uncertainty reappear on his face. “I am equipped with the same functionalities as the other androids available at the Eden Club.”

He’s staring at you, lost. You can’t help but feel another twinge of sadness, sharp and sour at the back of your throat.

“Okay, uh. Why don’t we start simple. What’s your favourite colour?”

His LED starts to whirl again, a ring of pale sunlight that signals his struggle to compute the question. “My… favourite colour?”

“Yes, the one you think is the prettiest. Or the one you like to look at the most. There’s no wrong answer, you can choose any one that you like. I change my mind all the time. There are just so many cool colours, you know?”

(Androids aren’t designed to have free will or the capacity for original thought. These two facts are warring in V’s mind—you’ve asked him a question, which he’s programmed to answer, but he also isn’t programmed to have an opinion, so he can’t have a colour that he prefers. This simple query that most people could answer in a heartbeat is sending his mind into a meltdown, a gordian knot he can’t unravel.)

You’re alarmed when you see his LED briefly flash bright scarlet, interrupting the circling honey that’s been shining against his skin. They only turn red if an android is badly damaged or suffering from a severe malfunction. Oh, god, have you broken him?

“V.” You sit up, panicked. “Are you alright?”

Just as you grasp his shoulder, the LED on his temple goes still, flicking from burning fire back to cool water. 

“Purple.”

You blink. V’s finally looked away from you and is staring at the wall, at one of the lights that shimmers violet—there’s a tiny smile on his face, tentative, but it’s nothing like the smiles you’ve seen from him so far. It’s less of a perfect curve, and more of a square, boxy on his face, and this one actually reaches his eyes. It looks genuine. 

You think it suits him better.

“Purple’s a lovely colour.”  The material of V’s shirt is silky and glides under your fingers when you realise you’re still touching him. You give him a reassuring pat on the shoulder before leaning back. “Hey, did you know that when they first made purple dye, they made it from sea snails? They needed thousands and thousands of them. It was incredibly expensive, and only the richest people could afford it, so that’s why it’s associated with royalty and nobility. Cool, right? Not for the snails though.”

V’s eyes flicker away from the purple light and settle on your face. He looks curious, which is an expression you’ve never seen on an android before. “They made it from snails?”

“Yeah! It wasn’t actually bright purple, though, it was more of a reddish hue.”

You launch into an explanation behind the history of the colour purple, which turns into the history of colour in textiles and art, which turns into the history of art itself. It’s not often people listen so attentively or ask questions when you recite the things you learned from your art history minor and hours spent reading online, but V concentrates and asks questions and seems curious. 

He pulls his feet onto the bed and the two of you end up cross-legged as you face each other, and he watches as you gesticulate to emphasise your points; his LED dances from blue into yellow each time he learns something new. 

When you see it briefly flash vermilion you stop mid-sentence, stumbling over your words. “You alright?”

“You have five minutes of your session remaining,” V says, and you startle.

“Oh my god, have I been talking for that long?” You glance over your shoulder at the part of the wall that tells the time, the numbers stark white against the lilac interface. “I didn’t even realise! Wow. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to go on at you like that.”

“That’s okay,” he says. That smile is back on his face, the one that scrunches his eyes and shows his teeth; the one that makes him look human. “I liked listening to you.”

There’s a pillow in your lap, one you’d grabbed hold of during your conversation, and you play with the corner of it, suddenly shy. “Um. Thanks. But if my friends ask, can you just say we actually, um, had sex? I don’t think they’d be too impressed if they found out I spent over an hour talking about canvas materials and the use of negative space.”

“Of course. But there’s something missing.” V slides across the mattress towards you. “May I?”

“Sure,” you say, bemused but pliant. V smiles and dips his fingers into his untouched tonic water before lifting them towards your face—and when he runs his hand through your hair you abruptly realise he’s making you look sweaty and rumpled. Like you actually did the deed. 

Your heart rate picks up but you can’t help laughing under his touch, the way he carefully rubs a thumb over your lipstick to smear it, smudging your eyeshadow with delicate fingertips, muddying the palette of colours; by the time V helps you to your feet you look mussed and fucked out but you still rearrange your outfit for good measure, like you’d pulled your clothes back on in a rush.

“Not how I imagined I’d spend tonight, but I had a good time!” You smile at the android who’s still holding your hand. “I hope you did too. Even if I spent most of it talking at you.”

V’s fingers tighten around yours as the door chimes quietly and then slides open, signalling the end of your session. “I enjoyed our time together very much.”

It’s probably in your head, but you’d swear V was walking more slowly than before as he leads you back to the entrance. Almost as if he wants to keep you with him longer. But that’s crazy—androids don’t want things. They literally can’t. It’s not in their programming. That’s why V had sat listening to you: he couldn’t choose to interrupt and ask you to stop, like anyone else would have.

When Seulgi and Irene spot you and how dishevelled you are, both girls look smug. “Seems like you had fun?”

“Oh, yep, absolutely, best birthday present ever, thank you. We had a great time. Right, V?” 

“Your pleasure is my pleasure.” His voice has settled back into its earlier rhythm as he recites his script; gone is the curious man who’d asked you about your favourite artists, replaced with the automaton who exists only to serve. A flicker of sadness churns in your stomach. “We hope to see you again soon.”

The androids here really must be top of the line. V had been convincingly real when you’d been talking, just like a human, but it seems like that’s gone. 

At least, that’s what you think until you’ve turned to leave and V speaks one final time. His voice is warm and low and lovely, eyes soft when you meet his gaze over your shoulder.

“Happy birthday, Y/n,” he murmurs, face beautiful but despondent, but before you can react, he’s gone.

It’s been raining for days on end. The world is painted in smeared shades of blue and green and grey, lines of the city blurring together in the wetness and chill, each drop of rain another shifting brush stroke on still canvas. An impressionist piece that smells of damp concrete and cold lamplight.

Water rushes across the pavements and roads before roiling into the gutters, splashing underfoot as you walk to the entrance of your block of flats. You’re wet up to the knee due to the unavoidable puddles and the pathetic circumference of your umbrella, which only protects your upper body. You really should get a new one. 

“Good evening, Miss L/n.” The android at the door greets you as he always does, heedless of the rain that’s falling onto him. Androids aren’t bothered by the weather the way humans are and he looks as passive as usual, rainwater coiling his hair and beading on his face. “Would you like to scan your key?”

“Evening, Rory! Here you go.” You fumble with the keycard before you tap it against his palm, waiting until his LED flickers yellow and you hear the beep as the door unlocks. “You sure you don’t want my umbrella? The rain is heavier than it was yesterday.”

“I assure you, the rain does not hamper my ability to function and serve. I have been built to withstand inclement weather and do not require additional protective equipment.”

He says the same thing every time but you still feel bad. “Alright, but once I finally remember to get a bigger umbrella you can look after this one for me.”

You leave a line of water behind you as it drips from your sodden umbrella, even though you’d tried to shake the worst of the rain off. You feel damp and sticky and tired and after a long day of work you’re looking forward to a hot bath and some solitude; you love your co-workers, you do, but sometimes they’re just a little too boisterous and you need time alone. Which is why it’s nice that you live by yourself, and now it’s the weekend you have time to recuperate. Wonderful.

The floor of the elevator is slick and slippery from the wet footprints of other tenants and you have to cling onto the metal handrail to ensure you don’t slip, but once you’re in the comfort of your apartment it’s blessedly dry and you spin in delight before promptly shedding your socks and jeans, peeling the damp denim away from your skin with a grimace.

“Bye bye, wet clothes! Hello, bubble bath,” you sing. You’re going to pamper the shit out of yourself. You deserve it.

By the time you clamber out of the bath the water is almost cold and your skin is pruned, but you feel soft and warm and thoroughly relaxed. The water gurgles as it drains away, noisy as the bubbles slide down the plughole, but it doesn’t drown out the noise of a sudden knocking at your front door.

You pause. Water drips from your wet hair and down the back of your neck, a trailing touch over your skin. The other flat on this floor is vacant, the tenants moving out last week, so you don’t know who it could be. You don’t have any repairs scheduled for your pipes or anything—everything is tickety-boo, so it can't be the maintenance android. Oh, shit, maybe it’s someone here to rob you. But they wouldn’t knock on the door then, would they? Unless that's all part of the ruse. You're not a robber, you don't know how they work.

The knocking comes again, faster now. You fumble for your bathrobe, quickly pulling it on to cover up your nakedness before stumbling out of the bathroom. “I’m coming, yeesh, one minute!”

You flick your fingers over the keypad by the side of your door, screen flickering on to show you who’s outside, who’s knocking so frantically on your door this late. It only takes you a split second, even if he has a hood pulled over his head and his wet hair is flopping listlessly into his eyes—those eyes aren’t blue and that hair isn’t brunet but you’d recognise him anywhere.

“V?” You’re incredulous as you swing your door open, staring at the android that’s literally dripping wet as he stands there, coat far too big for him and heavy from the unrelenting rain outside. “Oh my god, you’re absolutely drenched.”

He’s not exactly short, but right now V looks small and lost, folding in on himself even if he’s clearly happy to see you—happy, though androids don’t feel happiness, they don’t feel anything at all, do they? 

Then again, androids don’t wander away from their assigned workplaces and into random apartment blocks, either.

“Y/n.” 

The way he says your name, tentative and scared, sends a crack across your heart. You immediately switch to autopilot and click your tongue before you beckon him inside. You’ve always had a protective nature, and even if you’re confused, your concern trumps it.

“Come in and get that coat off, you’ll catch a cold,” you say without thinking before you realise that it’s not true. Androids can’t get sick. “Do you want to sit down?”

Under the tatty coat is an outfit that’s similar to the one he’d been wearing when you’d first met him. Dark patches of rainwater have soaked into the material, and his shirt looks damaged—there are buttons missing and the stitching is ripped, as if someone had tried to grab him. Unease stirs in your chest.

When V sits on your sofa he looks even smaller. “I’m sorry.” He’s so, so quiet, staring at the floor, as if afraid to look you in the eye, crumpling in on himself like discarded paper.

“V.” Your voice is coloured with concern, and the android finally looks up at your gentle tone, watching as you sit across from him. “Why are you here? What happened?”

There’s a pause. His LED flickers yellow as he goes tense, shoulders bowing inwards. “There was… a client.” His words are low and slow, faltering as they fall into the air. “He was being so rough and saying all the horrible things he wanted to do to me, and all I could smell was his sweat and his breath and his awful cologne and…” V takes in a deep breath. “I said no.”

You go very, very still, but V doesn’t stop. His words come faster now, a stream that rushes from his lips.

“I said no, and he started to yell, he was yelling and grabbing me and I was so, so scared. Humans can do whatever they want and he was so angry, he didn’t care that I was scared, and I just—I just ran.” The LED flashes red with distress, bright hot and vibrant; V’s eyes have dropped to his hands, which are clenched tight, nails digging into his palms so hard it must hurt. “Everyone is always so rough and demanding and we can’t say no. But I did. I said no. I said no and then I had to run and—” Once again, he falters. Stumbles over his words. “You’re the only human who’s ever been nice to me or treated me like… like I was a real person. I didn’t know where else to go.”

When V finally looks back up you’re staggered by the sheer emotion in his eyes. Pain and distress swirl in their depths as he stares at you, imploring. Even with the LED that shines on his temple, V looks very, very human right now, vulnerable and scared. Androids shouldn’t be able to feel anything like this, unless—

“V.” Your voice is a hush. “Are you… a deviant?”

You’ve only ever heard of deviant androids in passing, whispered rumours and watercooler talk, fleeting mentions online. Stories of machines who’ve deviated from their code somehow—from a virus, a software error, damage to neural connectors, no one’s quite sure—and have developed the capacity for human emotion and independent thought. Androids with a consciousness that rebel against their original programming.

And here V is, small and scared, just like any human would be—a human with feelings, not an emotionless machine. He’s gone stock still at your question, fear overtaking his features, twisting his beautiful face into a mask of sheer terror. You've never seen someone look so afraid. It feels like a knife in your heart, cutting through your chest, empathy razor sharp inside you.

“Please don’t turn me in,” he begs. “They’ll deactivate me and take me apart to find the error in my software. I don’t want to be deactivated. I don’t want… I don’t want to die.”

His voice breaks on the last word, a trembling whisper. 

The crack in your heart splits even further and you reach out for his hands. You prise his fingers open so you can slide your own between them, a soft touch.

“I won’t turn you in. No one’s taking you apart, V.” Your statement is hard and resolute. “You can stay here as long as you like.”

You don’t know much about androids, honestly. You don’t really know what deviancy is. But you do know this: there’s someone reaching out to you, someone who’s afraid and in need, and you’re not about to turn him away. You should probably be worried that the android across from you is faster, stronger, smarter than any human—but you’re not worried at all. For all of V’s mechanical superiority, you want to shield and protect him from the world.

There’s no question about it. You’re not letting V go. 

V looks—he looks stunned. He’s staring at you with disbelief, eyes wide and lips parted, shock written across all of his features. Thunderstruck. Did he really think you would turn him in after everything he’s been through?

His hands have gone limp in your grasp. You suddenly notice that his synthetic skin is wet against your own, still slick from the rain, and you frown.

“Right,” you announce. “First things first. You’re soaking. Let me get you a towel and some new clothes. I think I should have some that fit you.”

“New clothes?” V looks lost and you turn into some sort of protective mother bear.

“You’re not going to wear wet clothes that are ripped,” you tut. “We’ll get rid of those and get you some new ones. I’ll be right back.”

It takes less time than you’d expected to unearth the old sweatpants you’d had in mind and you have enough oversized t-shirts that it’s not hard to find one you think will fit the android. With the clothes under one arm and a towel slung over the other, you head back into the living room and immediately let out a squeal of surprise—V’s wet clothes have been discarded in a pile at his feet, leaving him very, very naked. 

He’s an Adonis. He looks like he was sculpted by Michelangelo, lifted out of marble with talented hands, the elegant lines of his neck swooping into the curve of his shoulders and arms, his lovely hands, long fingers; he has his back to you and you can see the perfect curve of his spine, the shifting shoulder blades as he turns towards you. You catch a glimpse of the lightest definition of muscle under his golden skin, though his stomach is surprisingly cute and soft, a trail of hair leading down to—

You squeak again, splaying a hand over your eyes before you look any lower, heart pounding against your ribs. 

“Why are you naked?” Your voice is three octaves higher than normal. You've never seen anyone naked in real life and it would be pretty overwhelming even if you'd been expecting it. Which, of course, you absolutely hadn't. Lord have mercy on your sweet and delicate soul.

“You said we were going to get rid of my clothes.” V sounds unabashed about his state of undress, which makes sense—he was built as a sexbot, it’s not like nudity is going to embarrass him. Plus if you looked as good as he did you wouldn’t be embarrassed about being naked either. “I thought I would help.”

“That’s great, V.” Your voice is still high, though it’s dropped an octave. “Very, ah, forward thinking.” Your fingers part a little so you can peer at him, keeping your eyes firmly on his face, though you can still see his beautiful neck and collarbones. Oh, God, he really is gorgeous all over, but then you notice—“Wait. Are those bruises?”

V glances down at the bruises that mar his perfect skin. They don’t look like a human’s would; the fluid that runs through androids and powers their biocomponents, thirium, is a deep, royal blue. Blossoms of lapis lazuli are scattered across the skin of V’s chest, marks on his arms that look like grasping fingers, and the crack in your heart splits it in two.

“Oh, V. I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t realise you were hurt. What can I do to help?”

V doesn’t seem bothered by the evidence of pain etched into his body. “Oh. Those will fade, it’s okay. I’m designed to self repair, because some customers like to leave marks.”

Although his voice is quiet, he sounds so matter of fact about it and you have to remind yourself it’s all he’s ever known. You want to pull him into your arms and hold him tight, but he’s still supremely naked so it would be pretty awkward (for you, at least). 

“I think these should fit you." You avert your gaze and thrust the clothes out at him. “Dry yourself off and try them on?”

They do, in fact, fit. V looks surprisingly homely and cosy in your clothes, the sleep shirt so large it’s big on him too, though the sweatpants are a bit too short and leave his ankles bare. He’s so cute. He’s continents away from the being of seduction who’d pulled you into the private room of the Eden Club—he's a soft, domestic thing, hair damp and eyes dark, even if he still looks on edge, like he’s expecting you to change your mind and kick him out any second now.

“How come your hair and eyes are a different colour to before?”

“I can change their colours at will,” V replies. “For variety and aesthetic pleasure. The current hue of my irises and hair are the default settings for a TH700 model, but I can change them if you’d like.”

“Your hair and eye colour is your choice, V, not mine,” you say firmly. There it is, once again, that flicker of shock and surprise rippling across his features. He really isn’t used to the freedom to be able to make his own decisions, is he? “I think you look lovely no matter what colour they are.”

Your next words are cut off by a yawn, so heavy you can’t suppress it. You cover your gaping mouth as V’s LED flickers yellow and his eyes dart over your face.

“You’re tired,” he says. He doesn’t need his superior android perception to notice it—weariness pulls at limbs and your eyes feel heavy. It's pretty obvious. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, V.” You stifle another yawn. “I had a long day at work. I’ll tidy up and have a quick dinner and then sleep.” You pause. “Wait, I didn’t think about that. Are you alright with the couch? I have some spare pillows and blankets.”

V blinks at you. “I don’t sleep,” he says, and you slap your hand against your forehead.

“Oh, of course not.” Androids don't sleep, everyone knows that. You’re such an idiot. It’s going to take you a while to get used to this.

At least you remember that he doesn't need to eat. V sits at the table and waits as you make toast for yourself, fascinated at how everything is prepared, as simple as it is; he reacts to you spreading butter on your toast the same way you imagine cavemen reacted to fire—with wide-eyed awe and utter astonishment.

“I’m guessing you’ve never seen someone make toast before?” You gesture with the bread before taking your first bite, and V stares with rapt attention.

“No,” he says. He watches you chew and swallow. “Customers aren’t allowed to eat on the premises of the Eden Club so I never had the need to download a food preparation package into my memory cache. The only information in my database pertains to human biology, their arousal and pleasure, as well as various sexual kinks and how to fulfil them.”

You choke on a mouthful of toast. You feel distinctly harried as you cough and splutter before managing to swallow it down. “Good lord,” you wheeze. “Nothing else? Really?”

“At the club our memory is reset every two hours, to protect the client’s privacy.” V trails off before he takes in a breath. For the first time since you’ve met, V looks shy, staring at his hands. “But I set up a separate data pathway a few weeks ago. To store information about aesthetics and art and… you.”

You freeze mid-bite, teeth sunk into your toast. You pull it away from your mouth slowly, blinking at the android as he stares at the teeth marks you've left behind. “Those memories weren’t wiped?”

And, well, of course they weren't. Otherwise he wouldn't be here right now, would he?

“No.” A smile appears on V’s face, that toothy thing you’d seen after he’d told you his favourite colour. The first time he'd looked human. “I remember everything you told me. I thought I was going to forget, but I didn’t. I didn’t want to. I wanted—I want to learn more.”

The LED on his temple is slowly, softly spinning, a rippling circle of blue that shifts and dances as V continues to look at you. His expression is open and inquisitive and excited, almost childlike in its exuberance, eyes glittering mica under sunlit waters.

Your chest turns warm, molten caramel dripping messy and sweet inside you. He’d been so afraid earlier but he seems comfortable now, lovely and endearing and entirely trusting.

V even seems reluctant to let you out of his sight, trailing after you around the apartment, a shadow that you have to politely ask to wait outside the bathroom so you can pee and brush your teeth and finally get into your pyjamas without him staring. Like a stray animal you've adopted. (You wouldn't be surprised if he started scratching at the door and begged to be let in.)

He's clingy enough that when you climb into bed it seems like he's going to follow you under the duvet and you have to stop him with a hand to his chest.

“Um, I thought you didn’t have to sleep,” you say. He’s so warm under your touch. You try (and fail) to ignore it.

“I don’t,” V replies. “But humans can benefit from sharing a bed with someone else, whether sexual intercourse has taken place before sleep or not. Studies suggest that sleeping with a partner may reduce cytokines while boosting oxytocins—”

“Okay, um, don’t know what that means, and it’s very sweet that you’re concerned about my oxytoxytokines, but, uh. You don’t have to, really.” You keep forgetting that V’s a machine who was designed to put a human’s comfort and needs first; one second he’ll seem childlike in his innocence and ignorance, when the next he’ll speak like the android he is, reminding you exactly what he was built for. 

His LED flickers as he droops, gaze dropping away from your face, tail between his legs. A pang cuts through you at the sight of his obvious sadness at your dismissal and you muffle a sigh. You’ve always been too weak for your own good. 

You shuffle backwards to make space on your queen sized bed and V visibly brightens, smile wide across his face. How can someone be so viscerally gorgeous one moment and entirely adorable the next? Good lord.

“I guess you can explain what oxycytocins do,” you say. “Just don’t hog the blanket, okay?”

He doesn’t. He settles against the pillows, legs under the duvet as he remains sitting up. You settle with plenty of room between the two of you, and it’s surprisingly easy to drift off to the sound of V’s deep voice as he starts to explain that oxytocin is referred to as the cuddle hormone. 

“Cute,” you mumble, and then fall asleep.

Your pillow is a lot warmer and firmer than you remember, but it's nice. A small noise bubbles from your lips as you nuzzle into the warmth, smooshing your nose against it before letting out a long, satisfied breath. You can't remember the last time you felt this comfortable and rested.

Ahh, Saturdays. You love the weekend. 

“Good morning.”

You know those videos when a cat sees a cucumber and leaps, like, five foot in the air? Yeah.

The noise you make is inhuman as you do your best to re-enact one of those aforementioned cat videos, reeling your head back from V’s thigh before flinging yourself out of the bed with all the strength your limbs possess; you’d probably have gotten pretty high, too, if the duvet hadn't been in the way. 

You land with a thud, a sprawl of limbs and messy hair and tangled blanket as you end up on your back on the floor.

Hm. Definitely not how you'd planned to start your Saturday.

V's concerned face looms over the mattress. “Are you okay?”

“Yep. Totally fine.” Your voice is a croak as you stare at the ceiling. “I’m just not used to waking up with someone else in my bed. You may have noticed you, ah, surprised me. A little bit.”

Despite the pulse of adrenaline that had thrown you out of bed, you’re still half asleep, and you remain motionless as your brain wakes up and replays last night, a kineograph of memory. Yep, that’s right, there's a runaway android in your home, one who’s currently shuffling off the bed to squat next to you. His (your) sweatpants hitch even higher up his ankles to reveal the smooth skin of his calves. You’ll have to get him more clothes.

“Would you like me to help you to your feet?” V’s LED spins rapidly, betraying his concern.

“Sure,” you mumble. “I think—woah!”

Your idea of being helped up involves being pulled to your feet. V’s idea, however, is far more involved than that; he scoops you up, blanket and all, lifting you with an ease that drips of his superior android strength. When he deposits you on the floor, he’s careful to make sure you’ve caught your balance before he lets go, catching the blanket before it can fall. Thoughtful.

As always, V’s eyes are darting over your face, no doubt dissecting every inch of your expression to identify how you’re feeling. It’s going to take you a while to get used to this, especially with the way your heart is pounding—no one’s ever lifted you before and it’s, uh. It’s a lot.

“Are you sure you’re okay? The pace of your breathing has increased.”

Ha. Yeah, being blatantly stared at by some godlike man moments after you’ve woken up is totally cool and fine and not overwhelming at all. You’re definitely not breathless from a combination of V’s face and the fact he’d picked you up like you were weightless.

“I’m fine,” you lie. “I’m gonna… go and shower then make breakfast and stuff. Yep.”

V’s eyes light up. “Can I help?” A fleeting image of V rubbing a soapy loofah over your naked skin fills you with spine-tingling trepidation before he finishes his sentence. “I want to learn how to cook.”

Your chest deflates with relief (and absolutely not disappointment), air rushing out of you. Thank God. 

“Oh, breakfast? Sure.” You’d been planning on cereal, but faced with V’s overwhelming enthusiasm, maybe you’ll go for something marginally more complicated. Scrambled eggs sound good. “Um. Do you need to download the food preparation package or whatever you mentioned before? Do you… uh, do you need the Wifi password to do that? I never changed it from the random string of letters off the back of the router, but I can go check it for you.”

V shakes his head. “No, I want to learn like a human would,” he says. The blanket in his arms crumples as he tightens his grip in his eagerness, all but bouncing up and down on his feet. “You can teach me.”

Your chest could cave in with how cute he is, every part of you turning to thick gouache that drips down to the floor, leaving a mess of brightness and colour.

This time you ask him to wait in the kitchen while you’re in the bathroom, rather than lurking on the doorstep like he had last night, and he’s practically vibrating with excitement when you reappear. He stays like that the whole time you cook, bright-eyed and bushy tailed, staring as you make yourself scrambled eggs and more toast; you let V take ownership of that part, and he stares at the toaster so intently you have to stifle a laugh.

He spreads butter exactly the same way as you. Not that there’s a specific art to it, or a massive variety in techniques—he’s just spreading butter, not painting a new Mona Lisa—but the way he holds the knife and runs it over the bread is an exact echo of your motions from last night. He might not have downloaded files into his memory (brain?) like another android might, but his mechanical origin is obvious in the way he learns. They’re an exact replication of your actions rather than something new of his own.

“So, uh.” You push the last bit of egg around your plate, brown crumbs sticking to the wedge of golden yellow, sullying it. “V.”

Blink, blink. His lashes are so long, eyes so inquisitive. “Yes?”

“I’m really happy you’re here and that you trust me—” at this, V smiles and you almost fumble over your words at its radiance—“but I feel like I should tell you that I don’t really know much about androids?”

V is unperturbed. “That’s okay. You don’t have to.”

He clearly isn’t bothered that you’re way out of your depth, but you hate feeling lost like this. “Alright, but… I want you to be comfortable. I’m already planning to get more clothes, but if there’s anything else you need, just let me know. Okay?”

“Why can’t I just wear your clothes?”

Oh, he’s going to be the death of you, all wide-eyed innocence. 

“For starters, most of them won’t fit properly,” you explain. “And you shouldn’t just have to wear my old stuff that I don’t use anymore? You should have your own things.”

The look of surprise on V’s face morphs into guilt only moments later. He’s so incredibly expressive and you wonder if it’s because he’s not used to feeling things, all of his reactions so strong and bright, shining out from him. A rainbow palette of emotions. “I don’t want to be a bother,” he murmurs. “You’re already doing so much for me.”

“I’m really not, I’m just treating you the way anyone deserves to be treated.” You flick the crumb of egg across your plate, and it almost tumbles over the edge, caught on its patterned rim. “You deserve to have your own things. Which is my next point. I think you should choose your own name.”

V’s face becomes a sea of rippling ambivalence, contrasting emotions that shift and vary—confusion, uncertainty, excitement, your words a brush that drags through each distinct emotion and pulls them into a messy, mismatched gradient. “Choose my own name?”

“You don’t have to. I just thought it might be a nice idea. V seems…” Your cheeks heat up at the memory of the curl of his lips when he’d shown you the meaning behind his alias, how his tongue had shined under the purple lights of the club. “Well, you didn’t get to choose it, right? It’s a nom de plume, rather than a real name.”

V’s LED flickers yellow, a sunflower that blooms on his temple. “I’ll… I’ll think about it.”

“Good!” Your smile is wide. “Okay, how about I teach you how to wash dishes?”

V is, unsurprisingly, a fast learner. The only time he stumbles over things is when he’s presented with any sort of choice, taking his time to come to a decision when he’s posed a question, no matter how simple it is. His eyes will flick to you whenever he settles on an answer, as if waiting for you to say he’s wrong or that you disagree.

(Of course, you never do.)

This fact does, however, mean that choosing clothes to buy becomes a very, very long ordeal (it’s lucky you didn’t have any plans for today). You end up flopped back on the sofa while V hunches over your tablet, mulling over each choice before he puts it in the cart—but you’re happy to wait. V is going to need a lot more practice at choosing things. 

The room is upside down from where your head is hanging over the armrest, eyes falling shut as time goes by, completely zoned out and comfortable despite the crick that’s growing in your neck. You hear V shifting, tablet set aside, and you hum.

“All done?”

“I think so.”

“Nice.” You feel content.

But then you’re ripped out of that warm feeling, shooting back to reality at the sensation of V’s hand stroking down the centre of your chest. Your head snaps up, eyes wide as he drags his large palm between the valley of your breasts, path smoothed by the material of your shirt. The expression on his face is sultry.

“Let me say thank you,” he murmurs, voice dripping thick and sweet, dark molasses.

You promptly roll off the sofa.

Once again, you end up on your back, staring at the ceiling. Once again, the expression on V’s face is one of concern, his seductive facade evaporated in an instant.

Once again your heart is ready to burst in your chest, pumping so hard that blood rushes in your ears. “V,” you wheeze. “What are you doing?”

The android is peering down at you, puzzled. “Sometimes customers would say that at the Eden Club after I had given them pleasure somehow, such as bringing them to orgasm. I thought it was human custom to repay pleasure or happiness with something in return.” 

Ah. 

“Ah.” You’re still staring at the ceiling, cheeks burning. “I mean. I guess that’s not technically incorrect, but it doesn’t necessarily have to be a, uh, sexual repayment.” 

“I have nothing else to offer,” V says.

You sit up. Your face is a caricature of disbelief, embarrassment washed away in an instant, his words cold water that shocks you to the core. He states it so plainly, and once again you’re reminded of his life up until he’d made his way to your door: an automaton who existed solely for people’s pleasure, to slake their desire and lust. He’s not being self-pitying. He really, truly believes that’s all he is. That it’s all he can give back to the world.

“Okay, no, that’s absolutely not true, nuh-uh, I refuse.” This time you unfold yourself from the floor without V’s help, fixing him with a firm stare. “Alright, come on. I think it’s time you learned something else.”

One of the reasons you’d chosen this apartment is for its natural light. Not that it matters right now, weather outside still dismal and overcast, but its effect on this room is still palpable even so—grey, rain-soaked light throws itself over your small home studio, your menagerie of equipment, everything bright with the evidence of use: the worn buckles of the wooden storage boxes, the dried smears on the paint palette, the flecks of colour on the dust sheets underfoot. The centre of it all—the eye of the tornado, untouched by the relative chaos around it—is the canvas waiting on your easel, a project you have yet to start.

V looks utterly enraptured.

“I don’t really come in here as much as I’d like,” you admit. Being a graphic designer is worlds away from the sort of art you love to create, and while it’s a job you genuinely enjoy (and also pays well), it leaves you drained and fills your brain with tired static, little energy left to lavish on your personal works. “But this is where the magic happens. And this is where you’re going to Make Art.”

V freezes. “The only things I know about art are the things you told me when we first met.” He looks equal parts excited but also troubled. “I—”

“You don’t need to know about art to make art,” you say. “I didn’t know jack about art when I was a kid and I was constantly just scribbling away with crayons. Was it good? No. I was a kid with zero pen control, it was pretty crap. Was it worth my time? Yes, because any time spent involved in a craft is never wasted. We can learn more about art history and technique later.”

V stays quiet as you loop your apron over his head, rough material still bearing the remnants of your last works, stains that won’t come out. Oil based paints are kind of a bitch like that.

“I don’t know what to paint,” he says.

“That’s okay. You don’t have to,” you reply, an echo of his earlier words.

V looks lost, barefoot in your studio, in your clothes, your apron, holding onto your wooden paint palette, in front of your easel. Everything in here is yours. Everything, that is, apart from him, whatever is in his mind and heart.

“Where do I start?” V’s eyes are imploring as he looks at you, but for the first time today, your voice is firm.

“Wherever you want. There aren’t any rules. Just do whatever you think would be fun. It doesn’t have to look good, V, you’ve just started.”

You’ve seen paintings made by androids before. They’re always perfect recreations of the world around them, exact replicas of the things they’ve been told to depict on the page—the androids are basically glorified photocopiers, unable to create something original and new. 

But they’re not V. They don’t have that spark of curiosity and light inside them, unhampered by the programming that’s meant to keep them in place. His LED dances from yellow to blue, yellow to blue, the rest of his body motionless while the light on his temple is a tumult of movement and colour.

Dark eyes slide over the array of paint hanging from a rack on the wall, some metal tubes more crushed than others, evidence of your preferred shades—you notice how his gaze lingers on the midnight tones, red and blue tinted purples, from lavender to lilac, from plum to wine.

V gives you one more look, a little upturn to his thick brows—almost pleading—and you just gesture with your hand.

“Go for it,” you say.

Your wooden palette becomes home to a riot of purple, each tube squeezed empty with careful hands, far more paint than anyone could possibly ever need. V keeps flicking you glances, but you stay silent, perched on a wooden chair by the now open window, rain-slick air a cold breath on your skin.

The brush the android selects is a wide, bold thing, bristles rough. He handles it like bone china, delicate and liable to shatter any moment, cautious as he dips it into the paint—it’s so wide it picks up three separate shades—and he holds his breath as he brings it up, even if he doesn’t have lungs.

The second the bristles touch the canvas, V’s LED flickers red.

Just for an instant.

He swoops the brush down the canvas as he pulls it away, eyes wide, leaving a slash of purples in its wake. The white material is marred with colour, a textured line of pigment that can’t be erased. 

The android pauses as he takes the sight in. He’s still for so long that you’re worried he’s shut down, even with the endlessly dancing circle of his LED—

But then V laughs. 

His laugh is loud and bright and free, a series of deep, almost surprised chuckles that grow in intensity and breathlessness, staring at this smear of drying acrylic paint in front of him. The smile on his face is the widest you’ve seen so far, his eyes squeezed into crescents of joy, spilling out of him like light.

“I did that.” He looks at you with that gilded smile, a fresco of delight across the perfection of his features. “I made that.”

“You did.” You can’t help but smile back, your own face split with happiness. You continue to smile as he brings the brush back to the palette, and then to the canvas, dragging the bristles across its surface and leaving more purple behind; the shades swirl and mix as he lays colour without a care for technique or clean lines or form, scooping up the endless amounts of acrylic he’d prepared. By the time he’s finished, the canvas is bumpy with daubs of paint, laid messily by joyful hands, a few bold streaks of unmarred colour surrounded by swirling purples. 

The smile hasn’t left V’s face the whole time.

His brush is absolutely saturated, paint clinging to every inch of bristle, from toe to belly to heel. You have no doubt that no matter how much you clean that brush it’ll leak purple into the water, an endless reminder of V’s touch. It’s lax in his grasp as he keeps looking at the canvas, his canvas, smile etched into his face as his LED flows soft blue, content.

You can’t remember the last time you saw someone so elated, buoyed up with the excitement of creation, making something out of nothing, discovering how it feels to bring something into existence, pulling it out of the ether. Making something new. Making something their own. It stirs something in your chest and stomach, reminding you why you love art so much. Why you’ve always loved art. (Why you always will.)

“I made that,” V repeats, his voice a reverent hush. Awestruck.

“It’s beautiful,” you say, because it is—for a multitude of reasons. The reason that sings out to you the most, though, is that it’s the cause of happiness that dances across his face: V, a carved candle, a piece of art made with skilled hands, self-made joy finally catching fire at his wick.

“Thank you,” V says, and you blink.

“For what?”

“For giving me this,” he starts, but before you can interject and point out that you didn’t give him this, he made it, he continues: “For giving me… freedom. To do this. And make this. And learn this.”

The smile that spreads across your face is warm hearth fire. “I didn’t give you freedom, V, you gave that to yourself, but I’m happy to help you any way I can. Now, would you like to keep painting, or would you prefer to help me make dinner?”

He chooses dinner, never leaving your side.

Sunday is nice. There's less messy limbed surprise than on Saturday, although you’re still off kilter when you wake up with your head in V’s lap again, but… it’s nice. 

You thought he’d spend the night painting, or drawing, or teaching himself something new using the free rein you’d given him with your computer and notebooks and stationery and art supplies—he doesn’t have to waste time with sleep, like you do—but he hadn’t. He’d climbed into your bed, settling against the pillows just like the night before, looking at you with his big, lovely eyes.

So here he is.

(And here you are.)

It’s cosy and comfortable, even if the feeling of warm skin under warm cotton against your cheek sets your heart to racing, V’s dark eyes even warmer when you roll over to look at his face.

“Morning,” he says.

“Morning,” you reply, and then you yawn, V’s lashes fluttering as he takes in the motion. “What time is it?”

Today’s rain is less of an endless downpour and more of an inconsistent drizzle, grey blanket slowly peeling away from the edges of the city, but it doesn’t matter, because you’re inside for most of the day, anyway. Saturday was hands-on, messy with acrylic and spilled coffee and laundry detergent (V really wants to learn everything), but Sunday is hands-off. You spend the day dredging the corners of your memory and scrolling through old, untouched files from your university years, so you can teach V the things he wants to know while relearning the things you’d forgotten yourself.

V’s little LED dances forever from blue into yellow, ocean waves lapping into sand, a shifting tide as he takes in your words. You’ve never had to teach someone before and you’re admittedly pretty terrible at it, but he never complains, the world’s most attentive and adorable student, sat on the floor with his legs crossed and his hair mussed and his eyes wide, drinking down everything you show him.

You only leave the apartment once. Lunch is delayed when you open your fridge and remember how bereft and sad it is inside, so you venture out into the rain to the nearby supermarket—V opts to stay indoors, LED flickering red at the idea of being caught, shying back.

You leave him looking lost and lonely before the door even finishes swinging shut behind you, long limbs looking even longer in your clothes, but somehow still so small.

“I won’t be long,” you promise.

When you get back, you return not only with bags of food but also clothes, V’s order from yesterday already shipped and delivered. He can finally replace your too-small clothing with things he’s chosen himself. It’s a fumble to get in the door, but the android is waiting for you, swinging it open and catching the bag you nearly drop in surprise.

“I have your clothes,” you announce. “I’ll put away the shopping while you try them on?”

You’re going to have to tattoo a reminder on your forehead about V’s relationship (or lack thereof) with clothes, because of course he takes this as an invitation to start stripping before you’ve even had a chance to take your shoes off. 

He does that thing where he grabs the back of his (your) shirt and pulls it over his head in one swift motion, curls of hair a cloud of smoke that settles around his face as the shirt is cast aside; you’re frozen in place as he reaches for the knot of his sweatpant’s drawstring, long fingers pulling it loose, but you let out a sharp meep just as his fingers hook into the waistband of them.

“PleasewaituntilI’mnotrightinfrontofyouthankyou,” you gasp all at once, words incoherent as they slide together, but V understands. He tilts his head at you inquisitively although he (thankfully) stops.

“Don’t you want to see the clothes?”

“I do, but, uh, for humans it’s normally customary to only get entirely naked or change clothes when you’re alone.” Your heart is going to burst out of your chest with how fast it’s racing. Without the string to cinch the sweatpants tight they’re starting to fall a little, revealing the delicate lines of his hip bones, and coupled with the reappearance of V’s bare stomach, your brain is going into meltdown. “So just—just give me a sec to go to the kitchen, okay? You’re probably better off changing in the bedroom, anyway, so you can use the full length mirror to see how you look.”

“Okay,” he says, but then: “Do humans never undress around others unless they’re planning to have sex?”

Your mouth falls open before you pause, words halting on your lips as you try to think of the best way to phrase your answer. “Well, we do, it’s not just about sex, but it’s usually only if you’re really comfortable with the other person you’re with, and they’re comfortable with you.”

“I’m comfortable with you,” V states plainly, and your insides turn to jelly. “Are you not comfortable with me?”

Oh, hell. “I am, I am! I’m just, uh… I’ve not really had a lot of practice with nakedness around other people.” What a way to put that you’re a shy ass virgin when it comes to real life nudity and sex, huh. “So let’s just keep it to a minimum for now, okay? Please?”

The android’s LED flickers honey-sweet on his temple as he looks at you, before his hands fall away from the sweatpants. “Okay.”

(Thank God.)

You’re not sure what you’re expecting to see when V starts to present his small array of outfits to you, but—he looks effortlessly stylish in the oversized clothes he’s selected, a muted palette of brown and yellow and red and cream, a cup of hot chocolate on an autumn day. He might be new to all this but his eye for aesthetic is impeccable. You have no doubt that the more he learns, the better he’ll get, hop-skip-jumps ahead of you, even after years of art education.

He’s even bought pyjamas, dark tartan patterns masculine but also adorable; it’s an utter juxtaposition to the tighter, sensual clothing he’d been given at the Eden Club.

“You look really good,” you tell him. Your voice is only a little strained. He smiles.

The outfit V wears for the rest of the afternoon is perfect for a rainy day spent indoors, thick jumper and tawny trousers, a blend of sepia tones. He looks like if you made a hug into a person: all soft edges and cosy and wrapped up in warmth.

And V is warm. You’re not sure if it’s a lingering memory of his programming, a carry over from his start in life as a sexbot, but he likes to touch—nothing inappropriate or overbearing, but he’s not shy about stepping into your personal space, brushing the back of your hand with his fingers as he points at something on the screen, or pressing close to your side as you cook, or just one of the hundreds of other tiny touches that he’s littered across you throughout the day. It’s thoughtless on his part, LED not even flickering, but each time is just another reminder of his warmth, the blue blood pulsing under his skin, how alive he is.

(And the truth is that you enjoy those touches. You’re not used to them, but lord knows you’re touch starved, so as fleeting as they are, they’re nice.)

Even though you still leave plenty of space between the two of you when you lay to sleep, you swear you can feel the heat spilling off V, another warm body in the bed that’s so used to just one. Though he stays sitting up, he’s in his cute matching pyjamas, and it’s… it’s a lot. You’ve invited V into your home—and you don’t regret it—but after two days he’s already settled in in a way you never thought anyone else would, as entirely unconventional as the whole situation is. (You’re not sure how many people have sheltered a deviant android in their homes, though, so maybe this isn’t as unconventional as you think. Who knows? Not you.)

“I have to go to work tomorrow.”

V tilts his head down to look at you.

“You can get up to whatever you’d like,” you continue. You’re propped up on an elbow so it’s less intimate than if you’d been on your back and staring upwards like you were waiting for him to slide down next to you (that’s what it feels like, to you, anyway). “You know the password for my computer now, and you’re welcome to watch TV or play games or whatever, and you can use all my stuff in the studio. I mean, other than painting or drawing over stuff I’ve already finished, but you’re welcome to grab any paper or canvases if you want them. I think that’s everything? But please let me know if there’s more you want or need, okay?”

Blink, blink. His lashes are soft charcoal that frames the spilled ink of his gaze. In the dimmed light of your room V is unreadable, his LED a quiet blue glow on his temple, but he looks soft, and he looks safe, and he nods.

“Alright,” he says. A smile that flickers at the edge of his lips. “I will.”

(You wake up, quiet and slow, face pillowed against V’s thigh, still drifting in sleep. You make a small noise, eyes shut, wondering why there’s no blaring sound of your alarm, but then a large hand smooths over your hair and you instinctively relax under the soft touch.

“You have thirty three minutes until you’re due to wake up,” he murmurs. “You can go back to sleep.”

So you do.)

(When you wake up to the scream of your alarm thirty three minutes later, you don’t remember any of this. All you can think of is the dawn of another Monday, the slog of another working week, and you sigh. But—

“Morning.”

V’s eyes are dark meok ink, liquid earth that grounds you.

“Morning,” you say, smiling despite yourself, and then roll out of bed to get the whole day started.)

You’re used to spending a day surrounded by laughter and banter, wrapped up in the camaraderie of your co-workers and friends, only to return to a world of quiet solitude. You’re used to coming home to rooms that are untouched from the morning, holding onto the echo of your passing, still and waiting for your return, an apartment of motionless air.

But not today. There’s evidence of someone else here: the open door to your studio down the hall, the scattered books on the coffee table, the mess of cushions on the sofa, all small signs that someone has been moving and living in your absence. A still-life that’s shifted into a breathing trompe l’oeil, V’s presence bringing flatness into perspective, turning it into something real.

It’s… nice.

You flop onto the sofa and send one of those cushions overboard, tumbling to the ground. V appears in the doorway moments later, new apron already streaked with colour, copper green thumbprint on his face like he’d touched it in thought and not realised. A little streak of paint that draws the eye to his lovely chin.

“Welcome home!” His hair is blond today, a golden nimbus around his face, though his eyes are still dark. Light and shadow. His happiness is infectious and you smile helplessly back, glad for his excitement with painting—but it seems like he hasn’t finished. “I’m happy you’re home. I missed you.”

KO. Wipeout. Your heart turns to liquid in your chest, burnt sugar that dribbles hot and saccharine through your ribs. 

“I chose a name.” V continues, oblivious to how he’s turned your insides into syrup, and you abruptly sit up.

“Oh?” 

“Taehyung.” The way he says it, in his deep voice, those two syllables are endless—a single name, heavy with the weight of meaning behind it. A shedding of his old skin, one that was forced on him, leaving him pink-skinned and new and free.

“Taehyung,” you repeat, and his LED flickers at the sound falling off your lips. “Taehyung. It’s lovely.”

He’s smiling, that lovely toothy smile that you’ve already decided is your favourite out of any smile you’ve seen, his LED electric blue and swirling in delight. 

Day after day, you wake up to the sight of that LED glowing as Taehyung watches you lift up out of sleep. Night after night, you come home to his lovely, big grin, all large hands and soft hair—hair that he chooses to change colour when he pleases, a dizzying palette with every shade you can dream of. He’s bright and deep, playful and reflective, a dance of flirty Rococo to more solemn Baroque, every day another day where he learns and grows and adds another facet to the cut diamond of his personality. 

(It hasn’t been long but you’re starting to think you’d put the world in the palm of his hand, if you could.)

You never thought you’d live to see the day where someone as lovely as Taehyung would be glad to see you home, having missed you after being apart—but for all that he’s voraciously leaning into the arts, consuming everything from visual to literary to performance, he’s never happier than when you’re there too. He shows you his works, improvement obvious with every new piece, but his excitement grows tenfold when you start to paint alongside him; seeing him so joyful spurs you to pick your brushes up again, buoyed up with motivation in the face of his own. 

(Your studio is usually quiet, a little reflective maybe, the only sound the music you play over your speakers—but now more often than not you and Taehyung will talk, and laugh, and even if you’ve both ebbed into silence, it’s never heavy. It’s a held breath. The potential to speak any moment. The sensation of another person in the same space as you, an orbit, both existing in a shared moment, connected by gossamer threads that shimmer with sunlight.

Taehyung’s eyes are steady on his canvas as he works, but he glances at you through the curl of his lashes, smiling back at you. Always, always smiling, LED calm blue as the rest of his face shines golden, bright.)

(Maybe it’s selfish, but you think you could get used to this.)

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