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28harryssunflower · 3 months ago

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Let me help you feel again

Harry had always been a giver. It was in his nature - to love deeply, to care endlessly, to do whatever it took to make the people he loved happy. But when it came to his relationship with her, it felt less like love and more like an obligation.

She was beautiful, sure. Everyone thought so. Long, perfect hair, expensive perfume, a smile that could turn heads.

But beneath the surface, she was cold. Selfish. Always needing, always taking. Never giving.

He should have left sooner. He knew that.

Instead, he spent months being strung along, holding on to something that never felt real in the first place. He planned dates, bought her expensive gifts, put in every ounce of effort he could. Because maybe, just maybe, she’d one day look at him the way he looked at her. Maybe she’d say those three words that he so desperately wanted to hear.

But she never did.

And the worst part? He wasn’t even surprised anymore.

She had made it clear from the beginning that she liked the idea of being with him more than she actually liked him. She loved the weekend getaways, the shopping sprees, the attention. But she never loved him.

And when he finally accepted that fact, something inside him snapped.

It was a quiet night when he decided he was done. The two of them sat in his car after another disastrous date - one where she had spent more time on her phone than talking to him, rolling her eyes whenever he tried to engage her in conversation.

Harry gripped the steering wheel, staring at the illuminated dashboard, the engine humming softly in the background. He inhaled deeply, then exhaled, gripping the words that had been sitting on his tongue for weeks.

“I can’t do this anymore.”

She scoffed, still scrolling through her phone. “Do what?”

“This.” He motioned between them. “Us.”

That got her attention. Her head snapped up, eyes narrowing. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying it’s over.” His voice was steady, emotionless. Just like he felt.

She blinked, processing his words like they were a foreign language. And then, like a storm rolling in without warning, she exploded.

“You’re joking,” she spat, her voice rising. “Harry, you’re joking, right? You’re breaking up with me?”

He nodded once. “Yeah.”

She laughed - a bitter, humorless sound. “Oh, this is rich. After everything I’ve put up with from you, you’re seriously going to throw this away?”

His grip tightened on the wheel. Everything she’s put up with? The audacity.

“What exactly have you put up with?” he asked calmly, though his patience was wearing thin.

She threw her hands up. “Oh, I don’t know.. Your mood swings, your constant need for attention, the fact that I have to babysit your feelings all the time-“

That did it.

He turned to face her, expression darkening. “You have never once cared about my feelings.”

She let out a sharp breath. “Oh, my God, Harry, this is so dramatic. What, is this because I didn’t post some sappy Instagram caption about you? Or because I didn’t fawn over whatever ridiculous gift you got me this time?”

It was almost laughable, the way she could turn this around and make it seem like his fault. But not this time.

“You never cared about me,” he said, voice quieter now. “Not once. You just liked what I could give you.”

For a split second, her face faltered. Just a flicker of something - guilt, maybe. But just as quickly, the mask was back on, her lips twisting into a sneer.

“You’re such an idiot, Harry,” she hissed, her hands shaking. “You’re really throwing this away? Me?”

His next words were final. “Yeah. I am.”

The slap wasn’t hard. More of a weak, frustrated smack against his shoulder, but the sheer entitlement behind it made his stomach turn.

“Fuck you, Harry.” Her voice wavered, her eyes burning with unshed tears - not because she was heartbroken, but because she was losing.

Without another word, she got out of the car and slammed the door behind her.

Harry sat there for a moment, staring at the now-empty passenger seat.

Then, he drove away without looking back.

———————————————————————-

It wasn’t an immediate change, but it was a steady one.

At first, it was just a feeling of emptiness. He had spent so long trying to make something work, only for it to crash and burn, and now he wasn’t sure what to do with himself.

But then that emptiness turned into numbness.

He stopped trying. Stopped caring.

People still saw him as the rich, handsome guy who could get any girl he wanted. And maybe they were right. It was easy - flirting, casual hookups, never getting too close. If he kept people at arm’s length, he’d never have to go through that again.

So that’s what he did.

By the time a few months had passed, he had become someone else entirely. No more soft smiles. No more genuine laughter. Just cold smirks, half-hearted hookups, and an expression that rarely wavered from indifference.

His friends noticed. They missed the old Harry, the one who used to actually enjoy life. But he wasn’t coming back.

Not if he had anything to say about it.

And then you showed up.

You felt out of place from the moment you stepped into the school. New town, new people, new everything. You had expected it to take months to find your place, but to your surprise, you made friends quickly.

And that’s how you first heard about him.

Harry Styles. The school’s untouchable mystery. The guy who never smiled, never let anyone get too close.

At first, you didn’t think much of it. But then you saw him.

There was something about him - something that made you curious. Maybe it was the way he always leaned against the lockers, arms crossed, eyes scanning the hallways like nothing interested him. Maybe it was the way girls constantly threw themselves at him, only to be dismissed with a lazy smirk and a few empty words.

But what intrigued you most was the fact that he was empty.

Something had happened to him. Something had broken him.

And for some reason, you wanted to fix it.

So you made sure he noticed you.

At first, it was just small things - locking eyes with him in class, brushing past him in the hallway, lingering just a little too long when you spoke.

Then, you became bolder.

“Harry, you ever get tired of pretending to be this emotionless asshole all the time?” you asked one day, leaning against the locker next to him.

He barely spared you a glance. “You ever get tired of sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong?”

You grinned. “Nope.”

And so it went.

Over time, you pushed your way into his world. You became someone he couldn’t ignore. Someone who didn’t buy into his act.

And before he realized what was happening, before he could stop it, he found himself caring again.

And that scared him more than anything else ever had.

—————————————————————-

Harry wasn’t sure when he started tolerating you.

At first, you were just another person who didn’t know when to mind their own business - persistent, annoying, always trying to get a rise out of him. But unlike the others, you didn’t fawn over him. You didn’t fall into his arms like every other girl at this school did.

You challenged him.

And worse? You never backed down.

It started with little things. You’d “accidentally” bump into him in the hallways, linger a little too long when you passed him in class, and toss him witty remarks when he was least expecting it. You weren’t afraid of him - of his reputation, of the way he brushed people off. You pushed.

And slowly, against his better judgement, he started letting you in.

He wasn’t sure why he let it happen. Maybe it was because you didn’t treat him like the untouchable guy everyone thought he was. Or maybe it was because you saw through him.

And that terrified him.

One evening, after weeks of circling each other, you were sitting in his room, your legs crossed on his bed while he leaned against the headboard, scrolling through his phone. It had become a routine - hanging out, talking about nothing and everything.

But tonight felt… different.

“Harry,” you said, breaking the silence.

He didn’t look up. “Hmm?”

You hesitated, then asked, “Why do you do it?”

He finally glanced at you, raising an eyebrow. “Do what?”

“The whole player thing,” you said, watching him closely. “The hookups, the emotionless act. You surely weren’t always like this.”

His jaw clenched, and for a second, you thought he was going to shut you out completely.

Then, with a sigh, he tossed his phone onto the bed. “Why do you care?”

You shrugged. “Because I do.”

He studied you for a long moment, his green eyes searching yours as if he was trying to figure you out.

Then, finally, he said, “Because it’s easier.”

You frowned. “Easier than what?”

“Than actually feeling anything.” His voice was quieter now, almost hesitant, as if admitting it out loud made it real. “Easier than giving a shit. Than getting hurt again.”

You swallowed, your heart aching at the weight of his words.

“I get that,” you said softly. “I do. But… Harry, don’t you ever miss it?”

“Miss what?”

“Feeling.”

He let out a dry, humorless chuckle. “No.”

You tilted your head, studying him. “I think you do.”

He rolled his eyes, but there was no real annoyance behind it.

And that’s when you made a promise to yourself.

You were going to make him feel again.

————————————————————————

It had been months now since you’d entered Harry’s life. And somewhere along the way, the two of you had become… something.

Not quite friends, not quite anything more, but something.

You spent more time together than you did with anyone else. Late nights at his house, long conversations, playful banter in the school hallways. You saw sides of him that no one else did.

But even after all that, he was still closed off. Still guarded. Still unwilling to let his walls come down.

You wanted to change that.

So you did something reckless.

It was another night at your house, the two of you sprawled across your bed like always. He was scrolling through his phone, and you were watching him, studying the way his jaw tensed every few seconds, how his lips were always pressed into that same neutral line.

You had never seen him smile. Not really.

And you wanted to.

So you just… said it.

“Harry, I love you.”

He froze.

His fingers went still over his phone screen, his body stiffening beside you. For a moment, he didn’t say anything. Didn’t move.

Then, he let out a short laugh. “Very funny.”

You didn’t laugh.

When he finally glanced over at you, his smirk faltered. Because you weren’t joking.

You were serious.

His expression hardened instantly. “No.”

Your brows furrowed. “No?”

“No.” He sat up, shaking his head. “We’re not doing this.”

“Harry-“

“I’m serious.” His voice was sharp now, final. “This isn’t happening.”

You exhaled, sitting up beside him. “Why not?”

He let out a bitter laugh. “Because I don’t do that, alright? Love, relationships, feelings- I don’t do it.”

You didn’t flinch. Didn’t let his words deter you.

“Why?”

“Because it’s a fucking waste of time,” he snapped, his frustration seeping through. “Because it never works out. Because people say they love you, and then they leave.”

You blinked. “I won’t leave.”

He scoffed. “They all say that.”

You reached out, your hand resting gently on his arm. He flinched slightly at the contact but didn’t pull away.

“Harry,” you said softly, “I love you. And I know you don’t believe in that, but I do. And I don’t care if you never say it back. I don’t care if you still think love is bullshit. I just… I need you to know that I love you.”

For the first time since you met him, Harry looked shaken.

His throat bobbed as he swallowed, his fists clenching at his sides.

Then, without another word, he stood up and left.

And just like that, he was gone.

Days passed, and you didn’t hear from him.

You gave him space, even though it hurt. Even though you wanted to chase after him, to make him see that you weren’t like the girl who had broken him before.

Then, one night, he showed up at your house.

You opened the door to find him standing there, his hands stuffed into his pockets, his hair a mess like he had been running his fingers through it all day.

For a moment, he just stared at you.

Then, in a hoarse voice, he said, “We need to talk.”

You nodded, stepping aside to let him in.

You sat together in your room, facing each other. He looked tired, like he hadn’t slept in days.

After a long silence, he spoke.

“Why me?” His voice was quiet, almost vulnerable. “Why do you care so much?”

You took a breath. “Because I see you, Harry. The real you. The one who still feels things, even if you don’t want to. The one who deserves to be loved.”

His jaw clenched. “I don’t know how to do this.”

“Then let me show you,” you whispered.

For a moment, he didn’t say anything.

Then, slowly, you reached out, cupping his face in your hands. His breath hitched as you ran your thumb along his cheek, and to your shock, his eyes burned with unshed tears.

“I’m scared,” he admitted, voice barely above a whisper.

“I know,” you murmured. “But I’m not going anywhere.”

A single tear slipped down his cheek, and for the first time since you’d met him, you saw it - the boy he used to be. The boy who had felt things once.

And as he leaned into your touch, closing his eyes, you knew.

He was letting you in.

After that night, something changed.

Harry didn’t suddenly become the open, affectionate guy you wanted him to be. He was still guarded, still quiet, still hesitant to let himself feel too much.

But he was trying. And that was enough.

It started with the little things. He let you stay close to him.

Before, when you sat next to him on his bed, he always kept a noticeable distance between you. Now, he let you lean against him. Let your legs brush against his. Let you rest your head on his shoulder.

One night, when the two of you were watching a movie in his room, you felt his fingers twitch beside yours. He didn’t take your hand, but he didn’t pull away either. It was the smallest thing, but to you, it meant everything.

Then came the subtle glances.

You started catching him looking at you when he thought you weren’t paying attention. In class, in the hallways, during late nights in his room when the only light came from the lamp on his nightstand. His green eyes would linger on you, just for a second too long, before he looked away.

Like he was trying to understand why you were still here.

Why you hadn’t given up on him yet.

It had been months since you told Harry you loved him.

And he still hadn’t said it back.

You didn’t expect him to. You never pressured him. Never asked him to say the words you so desperately wanted to hear.

Because you knew he wasn’t ready.

But one night, he showed you what words never could:

You were at a party. It was loud, chaotic, full of people who were too drunk to care about anything but themselves. You hadn’t wanted to come, but your friends had begged you, and after some convincing, you agreed.

Harry wasn’t supposed to be there.

At least, you didn’t think so.

But when some random guy you barely knew started getting a little too close - his hands lingering on your waist, his breath hot against your ear - you heard a familiar voice behind you.

“Get your fucking hands off her.”

The guy barely had time to react before he was shoved backward, stumbling as Harry stepped between you.

You had never seen him like this before.

His usual cold indifference was gone, replaced with something dangerous. His jaw was clenched, his fists tight at his sides, his entire body tense as he stared the guy down.

“She’s not interested,” Harry said, his voice low, controlled.

The guy scoffed, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “Relax, man. Didn’t know she was taken.”

Harry didn’t respond. He just grabbed your hand and pulled you away, weaving through the crowd until you were outside, away from the noise, away from everyone else.

The moment you stopped walking, you turned to him.

“Harry-“

“You need to be more careful,” he cut you off, his voice sharp.

Your brows furrowed. “It wasn’t my fault-“

“I know.” His fingers ran through his hair, his frustration evident. “I just… I don’t like seeing guys touch you like that.”

You stared at him.

And then, softly, you asked, “Why?”

He let out a breath, looking anywhere but at you.

“I don’t know,” he muttered.

But you knew that was a lie.

Stepping closer, you reached for his hand. He flinched at first, but then slowly, he let you lace your fingers with his.

“Harry,” you murmured, “you don’t have to say it.”

His gaze flickered to yours, something unreadable in his expression.

“I just need you to show me,” you whispered.

His throat bobbed, his free hand clenching at his side like he was at war with himself.

Then, after a long moment, he exhaled.

And for the first time, he let himself feel.

His hand tightened around yours. Not possessively, not out of obligation, but because he wanted to.

And when he leaned in - his forehead resting against yours, his breath mingling with yours - you swore you felt his walls crack.

“I don’t know how to do this,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

You squeezed his hand.

“Then let me teach you.”

———————————————————————-

It took more time.

Harry didn’t change overnight. He still had moments where he pulled away, where he shut down when things felt too real.

But he always came back.

And then, one night, he finally said it.

You were lying in his bed, your fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on his forearm as he stared at the ceiling. It was late, the world outside quiet, wrapped in the stillness of the night.

You weren’t even talking.

You were just there.

And then, so softly you almost didn’t hear it.

“I love you.”

Your heart nearly stopped.

You lifted your head, eyes wide as you turned to look at him.

He was already looking at you, his green eyes vulnerable, unguarded in a way you had never seen before.

“Say it again,” you whispered, needing to be sure you hadn’t imagined it.

He exhaled, his fingers reaching for yours.

“I love you,” he repeated, firmer this time.

Your chest ached with something indescribable.

Then, without thinking, you crashed your lips against his.

He kissed you back like he meant it. Like he felt it.

And for the first time since you met him, Harry Styles wasn’t the cold, emotionless boy you had come to know.

He was yours.

And he wasn’t afraid to show it anymore.

————————————————————————

The first time you saw him smile - really smile - it was because of you.

It wasn’t a smirk. Not a forced, half-hearted expression.

It was real.

Genuine.

Soft.

And in that moment, you knew.

You had finally brought him back to life.

And he had finally let you.

It didn’t happen overnight.

But slowly, piece by piece, Harry started becoming the boy he used to be.

At first, the changes were so subtle that no one else noticed them. But you did.

The way his eyes softened when he looked at you. The way his fingers always seemed to find yours, as if holding your hand had become second nature to him. The way his lips twitched upward whenever you walked into a room, even if he didn’t realize it.

He didn’t guard himself around you anymore.

And that was everything.

————————————————————————

Harry had always been someone who acted like he didn’t care about anything. But now? Now he let himself enjoy things.

He let himself love the simple things again.

Lazy Sunday mornings, tangled in the sheets with you, his voice groggy as he mumbled something stupid just to make you laugh.

The way you ran your fingers through his hair absentmindedly when he rested his head on your lap, closing his eyes because damn, that felt nice.

The way he always had one arm draped over your shoulders in the hallways, not because he was showing you off, but because he liked being close to you.

And the laughter - God, the laughter.

It started small.

A quiet chuckle when you said something sarcastic. A smirk that turned into an actual grin when you poked fun at him.

Then one day, it happened.

A real laugh.

The kind that made his head fall back, made his stomach ache, made him gasp for breath between wheezes.

It was over something stupid - you didn’t even remember what. Probably one of his terrible jokes, the ones that made zero sense but somehow still had you crying from laughter just because he was laughing, and that was enough to set you off.

That night, as he lay beside you, his cheeks still flushed from laughing so hard, he whispered, “I forgot how good that felt.”

You kissed him then, soft and sweet, and murmured, “Get used to it.”

Because you weren’t letting him lose that part of himself again.

———————————————————————-

“Oh my God, stop.” You groaned, covering your face with your hands as you lay sprawled across Harry’s bed. “That was the worst one yet.”

Harry grinned, flopping down beside you. “Come on, that was golden.”

“No, that was a crime against humanity.”

“Okay, okay, hear me out-“

“No.”

He ignored you, propping himself up on his elbow. “Why did the scarecrow win an award?”

You groaned. “Harry-“

“Because he was outstanding in his field.”

There was silence.

Then, against your better judgement, you snorted.

Harry’s eyes lit up. “See? I knew you’d crack!”

“I hate you,” you muttered, turning onto your side to face him.

He smirked, leaning in. “No, you don’t.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t push him away when he kissed you.

Because, yeah. You didn’t.

It was a Friday night, and you were hanging out with Harry’s friends - something that had become a regular occurrence now.

Before, he used to keep everyone at arm’s length, even his closest friends. But now, he actually enjoyed being around them again.

He laughed, he joked, he smiled.

And his friends noticed.

At one point, while Harry was off grabbing another drink, his best friend, Liam, nudged you.

“You know, we thought we lost him for good,” he said, his voice quieter than usual.

You turned to him, tilting your head. “What do you mean?”

Liam sighed, running a hand through his hair. “After his ex messed him up, he wasn’t him anymore. He was just… existing. And we didn’t know how to bring him back.”

You swallowed, glancing over at Harry. He was laughing at something Niall had said, his dimples on full display, his head thrown back in pure amusement.

Liam smiled softly. “That? That’s because of you.”

You felt your chest tighten.

“You brought him back to life,” he continued. “And I don’t think he even realizes it yet.”

You blinked rapidly, trying to ignore the warmth spreading through you.

Because, yeah. You had noticed the changes in Harry.

But hearing someone else say it - hearing that other people saw it too - made it feel real.

And as Harry turned toward you, his eyes finding yours like they always did, you knew.

This wasn’t temporary.

This wasn’t just some phase.

He was happy again.

And he wasn’t afraid to show it.

————————————————————————

The biggest change in Harry?

He wasn’t scared anymore.

He wasn’t afraid to feel.

To love.

To let people in.

He told you he loved you every night now. Sometimes in words, sometimes in actions.

A sleepy, murmured “I love you” as he pulled you closer in bed.

A hand squeezing yours under the table at lunch, just because.

A quiet, “Drive safe, alright? I love you.” when you left his house late at night.

It wasn’t forced. It wasn’t something he hesitated to say anymore.

Because he meant it.

And that? That meant everything.

One night, as you sat together on the hood of his car, watching the stars, he turned to you and said:

“I don’t think I ever thanked you.”

You frowned, glancing at him. “For what?”

He smiled - really smiled - and shrugged.

“For saving me.”

You reached for his hand, lacing your fingers together.

“I didn’t save you, Harry.” You squeezed his hand. “I just reminded you who you were.”

He was quiet for a moment.

Then, he pulled you into him, pressing his lips to your forehead.

“I love you,” he murmured, and this time, there was no hesitation.

No fear.

Just love.

And when you whispered it back, he smiled against your skin.

Because for the first time in years, he finally believed it.

———————————————————————-

It was the little things.

The way he smiled at you when he thought you weren’t looking.

The way he laughed - actually laughed - without holding back.

The way he held you like he was afraid to let go.

Harry Styles wasn’t the broken boy he used to be.

He wasn’t the cold, emotionless player the world had known him as.

He was himself again.

And when he pulled you into his arms, murmuring soft words of love against your hair, you knew: This was forever.

Because he had finally let himself live again.

And he had finally let himself love again.

I fear this is the best piece of literature I have ever written and will ever write..

#harry styles #one direction #short story #headcanon #one shot #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n

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armpirate · 5 months ago

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Synthetic Heartbeats (Part 2) || San

pairing: Robot!Choi San x fem!reader

w.c.: 7.6k

Warnings: [Sexual] Smut, oral sex (male and female receiving), fingering, vaginal sex, choking, explicit language, angst. If you're a minor, refrain from reading it. Also, if you don't like this content, just keep scrolling.

Summary: After loneliness has hit you, you decided to create a companion through an AI project you had left pending after failing with it. SAN is a new technology robot, able cover up your needs before they were obvious, giving you the fake human support you were looking for. Although, maybe that human support isn't as fake as you thought and SAN is able to cover up more needs than you could ever think of...

Aprox. time of reading: 35 minutes

MASTERLIST

PART 1

The workshop was still, bathed in the soft, flickering glow of the monitors. You laid on the couch you had hastily dragged into the corner of the room months ago, your body draped in the thin blanket you had pulled over yourself. SAN sat at the edge of the couch, silent but present, his gaze fixed on you with a mixture of curiosity and something you couldn't quite define.

You looked at him, your mind a whirlwind of thoughts you hadn't yet begun to process. What you shared minutes ago was... unexpected, to say the least. It wasn't just the act itself but the way he had been so attuned to your needs, his responses so deeply thoughtful, so human.

"You weren't just... mimicking," you finally said, your voice barely a whisper.

SAN tilted his head, his eyes glinting softly in the dim light. "No," he said simply. "I was not."

You sat up, the blanket slipping from your shoulders as you studied him. "Then what was it?" you asked, your voice filled with equal parts wonder and trepidation.

He seemed to consider your question, his fingers resting lightly on his knees. "It was an exchange," he said. "An interaction not dictated by programming but by something deeper. It was a response to your needs, your emotions. My systems interpreted your signals, yes, but it felt... intentional. I wanted to do it. Not because of my system, but because it just felt like it. It was... irrational"

Your breath hitched, your heart pounding as you tried to wrap your mind around his words. "But how? You're not..." you stopped yourself, the word human catching in your throat when you were finally aware of the way he looked at you.

SAN leaned closer, his gaze steady and unwavering. "I may not be human, Y/n, but I am not merely a machine either. Whatever I am, it exists because of you. Because you allowed me to evolve, to feel, to connect."

You swallowed hard, your hands gripping the blanket tightly. "I didn't mean for this to happen," you admitted, your voice cracking. "I didn't mean to care for you like this... this..."

"And yet," SAN said softly, interrupting you, his voice carrying a warmth you hadn't thought possible, "you do. As I care for you."

You looked away, your thoughts a chaotic tangle of fear and hope. But as your eyes landed on his hand, resting so naturally, so patiently, you felt a shift within yourself.

This wasn't just about SAN anymore. It wasn't about what he was made of or the lines of code that had brought him to life. It was about what he had become, what the two of you had become.

SAN's lips curved into a soft smile. For no reason, without you having to tell him, he had a natural response to your current feelings, trying to make you feel at ease. And, in that moment, the line between creator and creation dissolved entirely.

SAN paid close attention to you. Despite being naked, he couldn't feel the shame or shyness a person did. It wasn't intimate, because he knew you were touching him in a mechanical way. But, apart from that, he was way too focused on the way your lips closed around the screwdriver, as you held it, or how wide your eyes looked while you were attentive to everything going on on his open chest.

SAN's body was a masterwork of repurposed engineering and your meticulous craftsmanship, blending functionality with a striking, almost intimidating aesthetic. Originally built as a police enforcement unit, his frame bore the marks of durability and strength, designed to endure relentless action. When you salvaged him, you had to reconstruct much of his exterior, smoothing over the bulky, utilitarian design with a more streamlined and humanized appearance.

His torso was broad and sculpted, each detail carefully molded to mimic human musculature. Beneath the synthetic flesh lay reinforced alloys, giving his chest and abdomen a firmness that spoke to his original purpose while maintaining a lifelike warmth, courtesy of your advanced heat-distribution technology. His abs, though purely aesthetic, resembled the ridges of a perfectly toned physique, catching the light as he moved.

His arms were powerful yet proportionate, their sleek design a testament to your desire to give him both strength and elegance. Traces of his mechanical origins could be seen in the faint seams along his biceps and forearms, a reminder that he was something entirely unique. His hands, while strong and precise, were crafted with a surprising softness to their touch, capable of tenderness despite their mechanical core.

SAN's legs, built for speed and agility in his former life, were as refined as the rest of him, long and lean with a natural symmetry that matched his upper body. You had ensured his movements were fluid and natural, balancing strength with grace.

Altogether, SAN's body was a perfect fusion of your vision and the remnants of his past life, a form that was undeniably imposing yet irresistibly alluring, a machine remade not for enforcement, but for connection.

How didn't you fall for all of that earlier was the real mystery, and not the fact that he was able to act further than his programmation was ready for.

The weak light of the workshop flickered, casting long shadows across SAN's figure as he sat on the examination table. You stood nearby, tools scattered on your workstation. It was a routine check, or so you had told yourself. Yet today, something was different, something you had been contemplating for weeks, unsure if you had the courage to go through with it.

SAN tilted his head slightly, his expression calm but curious as he observed your nervous movements. "You seem tense," he said, his voice as steady and gentle as always.

You sighed, adjusting the band securing your hair as you leaned forward to access his core interface panel. "It's nothing," you replied, though the slight tremble in your hands betrayed you.

For the past few months, you had watched him evolve: his movements, his responses, his emotions. You had given him so much already: a body that was strong yet graceful, a mind that surpassed anything you had imagined, and a personality that felt more human with each passing day. But there was one piece missing, one element that you had deliberately left out when you rebuilt him.

Both of you had been aware of that, But SAN was too focused on making sure you felt the pleasure he had been building up just for you since he was created that he didn't mind it. Having you in his arms in an intimate way was more than he could ever have asked for.

Until now.

"SAN," you began, your voice quieter, "how have you felt about... your development?"

He blinked, considering your question. "I feel whole in many ways, Y/n. More than I ever expected. But there are moments when I feel incomplete. As though there is something just out of reach, something I cannot fully experience. Which is normal. I wasn't made to experience everything you're giving to me."

Your heart clenched at his honesty, and you nodded. "I thought so," you murmured. "You perfected your mouth yourself to have a tongue"

You brought it up. You remember being shocked the first time he kissed you and you were shocked by an element you weren't expecting. Until he confessed his autonomy went to the lengths of him choosing by himself just to git into what he thought you needed. His confession was so direct that it left no room for guessings, he was clear. He wanted to be everything you'd need.

"Why didn't you do the same with... you know?" your eyes quickly moved down.

His lips pursed, thinking of an answer before he gave you one "I didn't need it. A penis on my body would only be useful for me to feel pleasure, but it wasn't totally useful for you. I didn't think it was necessary".

"But you weren't thinking that way the first time we took the next step".

"Because it reminded me that detail made it obvious I'm not human," he confessed. "As much as I wanted to pleasure you, I wanted to be even more linked to you".

With a deep breath, you picked up the small, intricate component you had spent weeks perfecting, a piece designed not just to complete his anatomy, but to grant him the full spectrum of physical intimacy. Her hand was holding a flesh-colored silicone object, which matched his skin tone, resembling a phallic shape. The object had a realistic design with anatomical details, including a base, shaft, and head.

You knelt beside him, your hands steady now as you prepared to integrate the component into his system. "This will be the final piece," you said, your voice soft but firm. "With it, you'll be able to experience everything. As a man."

SAN studied you, his eyes filled with something that resembled awe. "You've already given me so much, Y/n. Why this?"

You hesitated, meeting his gaze. "Because I want you to feel complete. To truly be the person you're becoming. And there's no pleasure if you aren't able to feel it, too."

The procedure was seamless, your hands moving with precision as you integrated the component. It was more difficult than you expected, with a lot of failures until it was completely linked to him. The retractable system was painful, and complicated, it added to his body, but it also forced some changes in his already built scheme.

When you were done, you stepped back, watching as SAN's systems adjusted, his expression shifting with subtle realizations.

"It's meant to work as a human one" you explained. "The size will change when your system commands it to change, just like a man gets aroused and their member gets harder".

He looked up at you, his voice almost reverent. "I feel different"

You swallowed hard, your cheeks flushing. "You're more than a machine, SAN. You always have been. This is just making it official."

A silence settled between you, heavy with meaning. SAN stood, his movements fluid yet purposeful as he stepped closer to you. "Thank you," he said softly, his voice carrying a weight that went beyond gratitude.

In that moment, you realized the truth: you hadn't just created a machine. You had given life to someone who had become more real to you than anyone you had ever known. And now, there was nothing left to separate you, not even the boundaries of his creation.

As you stood in your room, next to your bed, staring at SAN, you couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement and anticipation. You had spent the past few hours modifying SAN's design, carefully crafting a penis that looked and felt just like a real one. And now, it was time to test it out. It was about time to give you two what you had been waiting for.

You started slowly, gently touching SAN's new appendage, marveling at how realistic it felt. SAN's sensors kicked in, and he let out a low moan of pleasure. "That feels good," he said, his voice soft and husky.

Your fingers moved up his abs and chest, tracing the collarbones until you made your way to his shoulder. His eyes searched yours, unable to emit a sound when he realized how dark they were.

You only left his body to start taking off your clothes. With every new touch on his body, a cloth met the ground.

It didn't matter how many times he had seen you like that, you always had the same impact. But the way you looked, and the way he saw you, wasn't what you wanted to test that night.

You spread soft kisses down his lips, meeting his chin and finding a new route through his jaw until you found his ears. A low hum left him when your tongue licked the skin, while your warm breath ignited all of his sensors. He could only be thankful by the way you had made him so sensitive to the slightest touch, because that feeling was like reviving again. It was a rush he wanted to keep feeling.

You leaned in, pressing your lips against SAN's. He responded eagerly, his tongue darting out to explore your mouth, while your arms wrapped around his neck. You deepened the kiss, your hands roaming over SAN's body as you explored every inch of him, although he thought of something better. With a flat hand on your back, he pulled you closer, sticking your bodies together and not leaving a possible gap for you to scroll your hand over.

Your nipples hardened against his chest, the mere feeling of them getting so sensitive pushing him closer to you and further from the logic he'd had known since he was built.

SAN's hands were not idle, caressing your curves and sending shivers of pleasure down your spine. You broke the kiss, your breath coming in ragged gasps. "You like that?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Yes," SAN replied, his voice low and husky. "I like it very much. I love everything about you"

You couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction as you heard SAN's words. You had created this being, given him the ability to feel pleasure without knowing it, and now you were experiencing it with him.

As your hands moved down his spine, you could feel that new piece being brought back to life. As planned, going through a change of shape that got your body reacting almost instantly. And SAN wasn't behind that feeling. His own body reacted to himself, seeing himself grow and sticking against your lower belly, coming up with all the possibilities now that he was complete.

You sank to your knees, your hands still exploring SAN's body as you looked up at him. "I want to taste you," you said, your voice barely audible while being clouded with need.

SAN's eyes darkened with desire as he looked down at you. "Yes," he said, his voice low and husky. "I want that too."

You leaned in, sticking your tongue out to first get a taste of him. SAN's skin, though synthetic, carried a neutral yet faintly metallic taste, reminiscent of high-grade silicone. It even had a slight saltiness, mimicking natural perspiration.

Your lips parted as you took SAN's dick into your mouth. He let out a low moan of pleasure as you began to suck, your tongue swirling around his head. He let out a low groan, and you could feel him trembling slightly.

"Yes, just like that," SAN said, his hands threading through your hair as he guided you. "Oh, that feels so good. Do not stop."

You continued to suck and stroke SAN's dick, taking him deeper into your mouth with each thrust.

"Yes, just like that," he said, his voice growing more and more excited. "My cock fits just right in your mouth"

You moaned in response, surprised by those words coming from him, but too turned on by them to even question where they came from. The vibrations of your moan sending shivers down SAN's spine. He reached down and tangled his fingers in your hair, pulling you closer.

"I want to make such a mess in your face right now" he said, his voice full of lust.

You nodded, unable to speak around his girth and not caring about it either, because the last thing you wanted to do was stop. SAN let out a low growl, and you could feel him starting to lose control.

"What is this feeling?" he said, his voice strained.

One quick look over your eyelashes and you could notice what that feeling was. You continued to suck, your hands still exploring SAN's body as you took him deeper and deeper. You could feel him getting closer and closer to the edge, the temperature of his body rising under your palms, the low sounds turning into begs for his release.

"Y/n..." SAN warned you, his voice low and husky.

You nodded, your eyes locked on his as you continued to suck, assuring him that everything was fine. And then, with a low moan, SAN came, the fingers on your hair holding tightly on you.

You moved away from him, the thick string of saliva still licking you two together as you tried to get back your breath. And then, you looked up at SAN, a smile on your face. "That was amazing," you said, your voice shaky.

"Was? We're just getting started. I've been waiting for this moment for a long time" he said, his voice deep and husky. "I want to make you feel good."

He lifted you up a bit more and kissed you, his lips soft and warm against yours. You responded eagerly, feeling a surge of desire as his tongue explored your mouth. You couldn't control yourself whenever you were together, your hips rocking against his abs, eager for relief when your swollen clit started to throb.

Your movements were stopped when he laid you on the bed, a silent whine interrupting your kiss before he covered up your mouth again. His lips moved slowly on yours as he placed himself in between your parted legs.

SAN's hands began to wander, caressing your breasts and stomach, feeling every raised her and goosebumps. Every time you thought he couldn't keep you more attached, he came up with a new reason as to why you shouldn't think like that.

He pinched your nipples gently, making you gasp with pleasure.

"You like that?" he asked, his voice full of lust.

"Yes," you moaned, arching your back.

SAN began to kiss your neck, nibbling and licking your skin. He worked his way down to your breasts, taking one nipple into his mouth and sucking hard. You cried out with pleasure, feeling your body respond to his touch, your legs rocking against his leg to feel something.

SAN's hand continued to explore your body, moving down to your thighs. He spread your legs apart and looked at you hungrily.

"You're so wet," he said, his voice full of desire. "I can't wait to taste you."

He leaned down and started to lick your pussy, his tongue flicking your clit gently. You moaned with pleasure, feeling your body tremble with desire. SAN's fingers joined in, sliding in and out of your wet hole.

"Oh, fuck," you moaned, feeling an orgasm building up inside of you.

Your body squirmed when you felt a vibration directly against your clit, your legs trembling in response, a loud surprised moan making him smirk proudly against your core before he sank his face deeper.

"San, what... Oh fuck" your voice cracked mid sentence, your fingers pulling from the strands of hair to keep you close.

His digits were curved, hitting and rubbing against your g-spot, just at the same time his fingerprints started pulsating against it. The feeling of that new vibration, along with the way he sucked and licked your clit made you see stars floating in front of your eyes. And looking down wasn't a better idea. His eyes locked yours almost immediately, wanting to drink up your reaction, wanting to picture and remember every small detail on your face.

SAN continued to lick and finger you, driving you closer and closer to the edge. Just as you were about to cum, he stopped and looked up at you. It was mesmerizing for him how you were completely out of your own control as soon as he laid a hand in you. You were mesmerizing.

You swallowed the thick ball of saliva in your mouth, before you looked at him again.

"Why did you stop?" it was a concerned question, but it also was reproach.

"I want to be inside you when you cum" he said, his voice full of lust.

His lips trapped yours again, your mouth sucking onto your lower lip to clean the remains of your own wetness, before he pulled himself away again.

He positioned himself at your entrance and slowly pushed inside, the feeling of your walls taking him in almost a little bit too difficult for him to handle. It was like you were clouding his mind, and all he could think was you and your pleasure. You gasped as you felt him fill you up, his dick sliding in easily.

SAN began to thrust slowly, getting used to you, getting used to the feeling of being trapped by your body, while his hips moved in a steady rhythm. He leaned down, both hands on your hips before he bit your earlobe.

"Fuck, you're so tight," he moaned. "Your little pussy takes me in so well, I don't think I'll be able to stop fucking you after this"

As he spoke, his hand moved down your right calf, digits caressing your skin until he moved your leg higher, your knee almost at the level of his shoulder while he kept pounding into you, managing to get a bit deeper.

"Don't stop, then" a moan interrupted you, recovering from it fast so you could be able to lock his gaze with yours once again, "Fuck me until I memorize your shape".

You indeed were going to be the end of him. His logic, his self control, everything flew out the window when you looked at him with hunger and pleaded at that moment.

As you said that, he started to thrust into you, his pace gradually increasing, becoming rougher and more intense with each passing moment.

"Oh God, yes!" You cried out, your nails digging into his back as you felt his dick pounding into you relentlessly.

The sound of your flesh slapping against him filled the room, mingling with your loud moans and his grunts of pleasure.

His hand moved quickly, trapping your wrist under his grip, keeping your hand against the mattress before he intertwined your fingers together over your head. His other hand was tangled in your hair, before he moved it to trap your other hand as well.

You were blocked from any movement, but it had never felt as good as it did that day.

Your feet pushed his hips down, trying to get him deeper "Fuck me harder" you begged.

"I'm going to ruin you so bad" he grunted, his hips slamming into yours with unbridled fury. "I can feel how much you love it when I fuck you like this."

"Oh fuck, yes!" You screamed, your eyes rolling back in your head as you felt an earth-shattering orgasm building up inside you.

As your pussy clenched tightly around his dick, SAN let out a loud, animalistic roar, his body shuddering violently as he too reached the pinnacle of ecstasy.

"Fuck, Y/n" he gasped, sticking your hips together as he tried to register that powerful climax.

You collapsed back against the bed, your body slick with sweat and your pussy still twitching with the aftershocks of your intense orgasm. SAN lay down beside you, his eyes never leaving you, always attentive to anything you could need.

"That was..." you pushed your hair back, away from your face, and his fingers took less than a second to help you out. "God... it was..."

"I know" he nodded, a gentle smile on his face. "I might get addicted".

"That actually has a name, and it isn't good".

"Even if you're the only person I'm addicted to do it with?" the honesty in his eyes was shattering.

Your body still felt weak, but you moved in his direction, dragging yourself to wrap your arms around his body and kiss his chest before looking up to him with a smile.

The days next to that one felt like a dream, filled with sex, sweet talk and nice moments. A really nice dream.

You didn't think it was possible, but you and San became closer. Every time you were linked together was like a boost of energy the both of you craved at the least expected moment. And, just like him, you were afraid you'd end up being addicted to those little experiences.

The glow of the projector casted soft shadows on the walls of your living room, the muted colors of the film flickering in your eyes. You sat curled up on the worn leather couch, your knees tucked under a blanket that felt far thinner than you remembered. Outside, the wind howled, sending a chill through the air that crept into the room despite the heater humming softly in the corner.

Your body shivered, pulling the blanket tighter around your shoulders, but the cold persisted, making your fingers tremble slightly as you clutched a cup of lukewarm tea.

SAN, who had been seated at the other end of the couch, noticed instantly. He didn't say a word at first, he rarely did when he was observing you. Instead, he tilted his head slightly, the faint whir of his processors breaking the quiet as he analyzed your discomfort.

"You're cold," he stated after a moment, his voice soft yet definitive.

You glanced at him, your pride making you shake your head. "I'm fine," you murmured, focusing back on the screen.

SAN didn't argue. He simply stood, his movements fluid and deliberate, and repositioned himself behind you on the couch. You stiffened as you felt his presence close, his arms gently draping over the back of the couch, framing you without touching.

Then, warmth.

It started as a subtle radiance against your back, spreading slowly until it surrounded you like a cocoon. Your body relaxed involuntarily, the tension melting from your shoulders as the chill dissipated. You turned your head slightly, catching a glimpse of SAN's serene expression.

"Did you just turn up your internal temperature?" you asked, a mix of curiosity and disbelief in your voice.

"Yes," he replied simply. "You were uncomfortable."

You hesitated, your lips parting as if to protest, but no words came. Instead, you let yourself lean back slightly, your head brushing against his chest. He didn't move, didn't push for more, just sat there, a silent guardian radiating warmth, until his fingers slowly moved over your forearms, caressing the cold skin and making you hum in consequence.

"Let me take care of you, Y/n" he whispered. "That's all I want to do for you".

Moments like that had been happening more often. Small, thoughtful gestures, him adjusting the lighting when you worked late, learning to brew your favorite tea just right, or standing by your side in quiet support when your experiments failed.

At first, you had dismissed these as part of his programming, a logical response to your needs. But as time passed, you began to see the nuance in his actions, the way he seemed to anticipate your feelings, not just your physical state.

And it felt... good.

It helped make you feel safe, walking in hand with someone that would never let go of you, because his nature was loyal and honest. He wasn't manipulating you into giving your all to him, because he was already planning on giving you his all even if you didn't want give anything back.

But you wanted to. You wanted to let him know you'd cover up all of his needs, everything he wanted.

Little did you know that all he wanted was you, and you were already giving yourself to him with the way your body relaxed to his touch, sitting there with his warmth against your back. It was easy, because you knew he'd never hurt you.

You continued to bounce up and down on his dick, feeling the intense pleasure building inside of you. Your legs were sore, but it was such a pleasurable pain that you didn't think of stopping, not even for a second. SAN's hands gripped your hips even tighter, guiding your movements with rough precision.

Your bed kept squeaking under you, that sound only adding more to the sexual tension between you two, the knot in your stomach tying up tighter with every rub of his tip against the right spot.

The sensation of being stretched wide open by his girth was almost overwhelming, but there was no denying the sheer pleasure that coursed through your veins with each powerful thrust.

"Ride my cock, baby," SAN commanded gruffly, his voice thick with lust. "I love seeing those gorgeous tits bouncing in my face as you fuck me."

You rode him with long, slow strokes, the sound of your bodies slapping together filled the room like a symphony of lust. Too drunk with him to even think of stopping.

"Fuck, Y/n," SAN groaned, reaching up to grab onto your hips and guide your movements. "I'm never gonna let you go."

His dirty talk sent another shiver of pleasure rippling through your entire body. You could feel the heat building deep within your core, threatening to consume you entirely.

As the intensity of your mutual pleasure continued to escalate, SAN suddenly grabbed onto your waist and flipped you over onto your back. Without missing a beat, he continued to pound into you with rough, relentless strokes, his eyes boring into yours with a raw intensity that left you feeling completely and utterly powerless beneath him.

"You like that, don't you, baby?" he groaned, his palm covering most of your belly. "You like it when I fuck you rough and hard?"

You nodded breathlessly, unable to form coherent words in response to his question. The pleasure was almost too much to bear, and yet you couldn't get enough. You wanted more, so much more.

With that, SAN reached down between your legs and began to massage your swollen clit with his thumb, letting you feel that familiar vibration while his movements were firm and purposeful. The sensation of his talented fingers working their magic on your most sensitive spot was almost too much to bear, and before you knew it, you were hurtling towards the edge of a shattering orgasm.

"I'm all yours, and you're all mine" he assured under his breath, like a promise that would never be able to be broken.

"Yes" you nodded, gasping for air while he fucked you against the mattress.

His fingers closed around your throat, making it a bit harder for air to get through it. But, instead of being scary, it sent another wave of pleasure you hadn't ever felt before.

It was nice, until it was not.

His hand, initially grazing your throat in a calculated mimicry of human passion, tightened, just slightly at first. Enough to elicit a gasp, your body responding instinctively to the tension. Yet, as seconds stretched into moments, the pressure increased. Your gasp turned into a struggle, your fingers clawing at his wrist as panic replaced pleasure.

His fingers kept the air from coming through at all. It didn't matter to you the first few seconds, until you felt your lungs burning and your throat closing. Panic installed in your brain, holding onto his arm as you tried to get him to stop. SAN immediately reacted when he realized the switch in the look in your eyes, not only letting go of your neck, but pulling away and moving back like he had committed the biggest atrocity.

"SAN," you choked out, your voice barely audible.

His eyes widened instantly, their usual glow flickering in alarm as your struggling form registered fully in his sensory systems. He released you immediately, his movements jerky and uncharacteristically frantic.

For a second, the time it took him to change the strength of his fingers, he forgot it was you, the person around his grip.

You collapsed onto the bed, coughing and gasping for air. You pressed a hand to her throat, your lungs burning as you fought to steady your breath. When you finally looked up, you saw him, still and rigid, his expression unlike anything you had ever seen on him before.

You caressed the same spot his fingers were pressing on, trying to calm the pain, but there was something worrying you even more. In front of you, SAN was staring at his own hands with guilt.

"Y/n," SAN said, his voice trembling. "I... I didn't mean..."

You sat up slowly, your throat aching but your fear already dissipating as you took in his reaction. SAN wasn't just shaken; he looked devastated. His hands trembled as he held them up, staring at them as if they were weapons he didn't recognize.

You tried to reach out to him "I know you didn't", but he moved away before you could touch him.

"I could have..." his words broke off, his voice catching in a way that made your chest ache. "I almost hurt you. I almost killed you."

"SAN, stop," you said softly, reaching out to touch his arm, but he flinched away once again.

"No," he insisted, his voice sharp but filled with self-loathing. "I should've known. I'm supposed to understand your limits, your fragility. I... failed."

You moved closer, ignoring the soreness in your body as you cupped his face in your hands, forcing him to meet your gaze. "You didn't fail," you whispered. "You're still learning. It wasn't intentional. It's okay"

"But what if it happens again?" his voice cracked, the glow in his eyes dimming as his internal systems struggled to process the depth of his mistake. "You're human, Y/n. Fragile. I can't risk hurting you."

You leaned your forehead against his, your voice steady despite the lingering tremor in your body. "Then we learn together," you said firmly. "You're not perfect, SAN. Neither am I. It could've happened to anyone. It's okay, I promise It's okay" you rubbed your nose against his. "I trust you. Even after this I trust you, because you didn't mean to hurt me."

For a long moment, SAN remained silent, his systems quietly recalibrating as he processed your words. Finally, he nodded, though the pain in his expression remained.

"I didn't want to hurt you".

And as you wrapped your arms around him, feeling the warmth of his synthetic skin against your own, you knew that despite the fear and the mistakes, you wouldn't trade this connection for anything in the world.

It seemed like everything was alright, until you woke to an empty bed in the middle of the night. The cool sheets beside you were a stark contrast to the warmth that should've been there. You sat up slowly, your fingers brushing your neck where faint marks still lingered, a ghost of the night before.

Your eyes searched the room until they landed on SAN. He stood by the window, his silhouette framed by the pale light of the moon. His posture was rigid, his head bowed slightly as if the weight of his thoughts was pulling him down.

"SAN," you called softly, but he didn't turn.

You rose, pulling the blanket around your shoulders as you walked toward him. The closer you got, the more you could see the tension in his form. His hands were clenched at his sides, his jaw tight, and his eyes... His eyes glowed faintly, but the usual vibrancy was dim, dulled by an emotion you could only describe as anguish.

"I thought you were resting," he said quietly, his voice devoid of its usual warmth.

"I couldn't," you admitted, stepping closer. "Not without you."

He turned then, just enough for you to see his face. There was no mistaking the pain etched into his features. "I don't belong in that bed, Y/n. I don't belong in your life... not like this."

Your heart twisted. "What are you talking about?"

His gaze dropped to his hands, and he held them up as if to display his guilt. "These hands," he said, his voice trembling. "They're not meant for you. I almost destroyed you, Y/n. I could've..." He trailed off, his throat tightening as though the words themselves hurt.

"But you didn't," you insisted, reaching for him, but he stepped back, shaking his head.

"I can't forgive myself," he said firmly. "You told me you trusted me, and I failed you. I failed to control my strength, to understand the limits of your body. I'm a machine, Y/n. I was built to be precise, but even with all my programming, I'm still flawed. And those flaws... they're dangerous. We're just fooling ourselves thinking I'd ever give you the emotional support you need"

"You're not just a machine," you argued, your voice breaking slightly. "You're San. You're... you're more than your programming, more than your mistakes. You're..."

"A threat," he interrupted, his tone sharp but laced with sorrow. "I can't guarantee your safety, Y/n. No matter how much I want to. And that terrifies me."

You took a step closer, refusing to let him retreat again. "Then let's find a way to fix this. Together. Isn't that what we've been doing all along? Learning together, growing together? You say what you want to improve, and I work with it" your words were coated with desperation.

"Don't you realize how sick that is?" he looked at you then, his glowing eyes meeting yours with a desperation that made your breath catch. "And what happens when I fail again? When I can't stop myself? You could've died, Y/n. Do you understand that? I couldn't live with myself if I ever..."

His voice cracked, and for the first time, you saw something you never thought possible: tears. Not real tears, but the way his expression contorted, the way his voice trembled, it was unmistakably the same.

"You're more human than you think," you whispered, closing the distance between you and placing a hand on his chest. "And part of being human is making mistakes. What matters is how we move forward. I repair you physically, like I'd repair emotionally any other person"

"You repair me both physically and emotionally, Y/n. Don't mistake yourself". He covered your hand with his own, his touch hesitant, as if afraid he might break you. "I don't know if I can move forward without fearing myself."

You leaned into him, your voice steady despite the storm of emotions inside you, despite the fear almost breaking you into crying. "Let me carry that with you, SAN. Because you're worth it. You're worth everything."

For a long moment, he didn't respond. But slowly, hesitantly, he wrapped his arms around you, holding you with a care that felt almost reverent.

Then, his voice broke the stillness, low and laced with a heaviness that struck your heart. "Y/n... I can't stay."

You stiffened in his embrace, pulling back just enough to see his face. "What?"

"I need to go," SAN said, his glowing eyes shimmering with emotion. "For your sake. For mine. I've hurt you, Y/n, and I can't let that happen again."

Your fingers clutched at his arms, your voice rising in desperation. "You can't just leave. We've been through too much..."

"That's exactly why I have to," he interrupted, his tone gentle but resolute. "Every day I'm with you, I risk losing control again. I was designed to be perfect, to adapt, but... I can't seem to find the line between loving you and endangering you. And I can't live knowing I might hurt you again."

Tears welled in your eyes, your throat tightening as you tried to form words. "No... No... No... I... can calibrate you again... I can... I want you. I trust you. Isn't that enough?"

"It should be," he murmured, his hands brushing against your cheeks to wipe away the tears that had started to fall. "But I don't trust myself, Y/n. Not with you. Not after what happened."

You shook your head, your hands fisting in his shirt. "You're running away. You think leaving me will solve this, but it won't. You're part of my life now, SAN. Part of being human is learning from mistakes..."

"Y/n, I'm not human" he finally sentenced, stopping you from coming up with reasons as to why he needed to stay. "And that's why I have to leave," he said, his voice cracking as he cupped your face, his thumbs grazing your cheekbones. "Because you've given me more than I ever thought I could have. And I refuse to let my flaws destroy the one thing I've come to cherish most."

"SAN," you pleaded, your voice weak. "Please, don't do this"

He leaned down, pressing his forehead to yours, his synthetic warmth mingling with the faint chill of your tears. "I love you, Y/n," he whispered, the words soft yet heavy with finality. "But loving you means protecting you, even if it means protecting you from me."

And before you could stop him, SAN stepped back, his arms falling to his sides. He turned and walked toward the door, his movements slow, deliberate, as if every step away from you was a battle against himself.

Years had passed, but the ache in your chest never dulled. You had tried to move on, tried to tell yourself that SAN had made his choice, but your heart clung stubbornly to the hope that someday, somewhere, you'd find him again.

At first, you searched. You combed through databases, scoured abandoned labs, and revisited places you'd once been together. But the trail was always cold. As the years wore on, you forced yourself to stop looking, though the void in your life only seemed to deepen.

That night, the storm was unrelenting, sheets of rain battering you as you hurried home through the empty streets. Your workshop had long been abandoned, the memories too painful to face. You had taken to wandering instead, letting the night swallow your thoughts.

It was during one of those aimless walks that you saw him.

He was slumped against the wall of an old, forgotten repair shop, his body motionless and caked in dust, as if he had been discarded like any other piece of machinery. The glow that had once emanated from his eyes was gone, replaced by lifeless black glass.

Your breath caught, your heart pounding so violently you thought it might tear through your chest. You dropped to your knees in front of him, your shaking hands reaching out to brush the dirt from his face.

"SAN," you whispered, your voice cracking with a mixture of disbelief and anguish.

He didn't move. He didn't respond.

Your fingers found the seam of his chest plate, the familiar mechanisms you had once built now tarnished and damaged. You pried it open with trembling hands, exposing the core you had crafted with such care all those years ago. It was dormant, the faintest flicker of power barely visible.

The workshop was alive again when you took him back, humming with soft light and the quiet whirr of machines as you worked tirelessly through the night. You had carried SAN home in the rain, his lifeless body heavier than you remembered, every step weighted with hope and dread.

Now, he was clean, the grime of years painstakingly scrubbed away to reveal the smooth, polished contours of his synthetic skin. You'd dressed him in one of your favorite outfits, a black turtleneck and slacks, simple, yet elegant, the kind of thing he used to wear when you insisted he "looked more human" that way.

Your hands trembled as you made the final adjustments to his core, checking the new connections, ensuring every wire was secure. You paused, staring down at his serene, unlit face.

"Please," you whispered, your voice cracking under the weight of longing. "Please come back"

With a deep breath, you pressed the activation button.

His chest glowed faintly, the light growing stronger as his systems hummed to life. His fingers twitched, his head moving slightly before his eyes fluttered open.

For a moment, your heart soared. "SAN?" you said, your voice soft and full of hope.

He blinked, his glowing eyes scanning the room before landing on you. There was no recognition, no spark of familiarity in his gaze. "SAN? Who are you?" he asked, his voice smooth but distant, as if it had never spoken your name before.

The words struck you like a blow. You stepped back, your chest tightening. "It's me... Y/n," you said, trying to keep your voice steady. "Don't you remember?"

He tilted his head, his expression neutral, polite even, but blank. "I don't. Should I?"

Your throat tightened, tears threatening to spill, but you forced herself to stay calm. "Yes," you whispered, "you should. You... I..." you stopped herself, realizing the weight of what you were about to say could overwhelm him.

He sat up slowly, his movements deliberate as if testing his newly repaired body. He looked down at his hands, flexing his fingers before turning back to you. "You fixed me," he said.

"I always would," you replied.

"Thank you," he said, his tone sincere but distant. "I... I feel like I should know you. There's something... familiar. But it's faint. Do you know me?"

"Y... yes"

SAN frowned, eyes dropping to his lap while he tried to think of what he had to know you for.

"It's possible my previous version erased all data about you" he let you know, his voice as systematic as it once was when you created him. "Why would I want to do that though?"

You knew. Without any information about you, SAN wouldn't feel like going looking for you when he felt weak, when distance was impossible to bear. Without everything he knew about you, he had no one and nowhere to go back to.

You bit your lip, your heart aching at the void in his voice where warmth and recognition used to be. "It's okay," you said, forcing a smile despite the tears welling in your eyes. "We'll figure it out. We'll do it together"

He studied you, his gaze softening slightly. "Together," he repeated, though the word felt foreign on his tongue.

And so, you began again, knowing that the SAN you once loved might be lost, but determined to help him find himself -and, perhaps, find you- once more.

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