#maybe someone else has a solution for why it feels off

[shivasdarknight]

Hi, sorry for this but you are a writer, so umm.. I was hoping you could give me some tips/advice on how to write?

tbh the way I got into writing is a bit insane, but I do have some advice that can help. gonna put it under a cut just because it got kinda long

honest to god, one of the best pieces of advice is something you're already doing because reading can genuinely help you with becoming a better writer. stepping outside of your usual genres or authors can help expand your viewpoint and introduce you to more narrative styles so you can play around and see what works for you. eg. if you mostly read first person, give second person a shot. or if you're an omniscient third person, try limited third person. or even retrospective first person, because i often see people complain about first person pov when it's married with a present tense story. if you have a first person narrator talking about events in the past as if talking to you, or a journal it often takes an entirely different angle and it's something I've played with in Homestuck fics because that fandom tends to be more open to narrative experimentation. Writing is honestly a lot of looking at stuff you like (much like art) and smooshing it all together. Personally, I've gotten a lot of my writing style from stuff like The Locked Tomb, admittedly Lovecraft was foundational (but this is a great example of why to always remain critical considering his bullshit), so was Homestuck and Rick Riordan's stuff. I'm never trying to copy them wholesale, but I am looking at aspects I like - such as Riordan's humor intertwining with the narrative and narration, or the deeply unreliable narrators that Muir writes, or even how Homestuck balances purple prose with gut wrenching conciseness when it counts. A lot of modern day fast food fiction takes out a lot of the stuff that actually builds a story - pacing, playing with narration and technical writing - so you need to be conscious of what you're looking for in things. Often more established authors get to do weirder stuff than new authors, but don't discredit new ones because that would be leaving out folks like Xiran Jay Zhao and their phenomenal prose.

Another thing that helps greatly is reading writing critique. Video essays on books or even more critical thought pieces on writing, tropes, etc. can help you learn more about why something works. Lots of different channels on YouTube dedicated to dissecting media, absolutely recommend stuff like Hello Future Me, Overly Sarcastic Productions (real world ties + mythology, great basis to build things on), Zoe Bee (writer + commentary), Nerdwriter1 (media analysis + commentary), Just Write, and Tale Foundry. For adjacent suggestions that can help build up alternate perspectives that aren't directly about writing but are about critical thinking with stories (which is frankly an important skill to have), I definitely recommend Princess Weekes, Accented Cinema, Now You See It, Dominic Noble, The Storyteller, and Pop Culture Detective. A lot of this is discussing film (save Dominic Noble, who also talks about books a Lot), but the core essence of storytelling is helpful regardless of what angle it comes in - be it video game, movie, tv, or book reviews and analyses.

Actual writing. Varies on the person on if they do outlines or not and how, but I still recommend trying to do an outline when you're first starting out. One habit to immediately knock yourself out of is writing things chronologically. If you're working on a big piece and have more energy to write something in the middle? Put that in a new doc and leave a placeholder for where you're at. Legitimately, getting words on the paper is more important than those words being good. Because you can always come back and edit things to make sense.

Always edit what you write. I hate the "no beta we die like real men" attitude because people will dunk on editing but then praise stories for having "firm and satisfying" connections which can only really be built through editing. Your first draft is your rough idea. Your second one is when you read through and have it make sense. Three is making that make sense, and maybe 4 is more just grammar and spelling errors. Edit as many times necessary to make sure you like it.

Always work in broad strokes, then move in finer like with anything. Do a general idea for a story, then your main story beats, then how you connect them together, and then the nitty gritty of each. Keep lots of notes - do not rely on your head solely for everything - and just also be willing to let things go if they change.

What I tend to do when I write is I want a good flow. I often get that from reading my writing out loud to hear how it sounds, but I'm looking for a good beat to read along. Because even if the sentence is grammatically correct and structurally sound, it may not be very interesting to read. Like you could say someone feigned a polite expression to not let the other person know that they didn't feel comfortable with a topic, or you could go the angle I went with recently of "she painted herself an interested expression to wear as dread began to gnaw at her gut." Sometimes the more colorful or out there the language is, the better it sounds when you read it. Like instead of saying "that's just how things go for them" you could say, "but Fate had a funny way of making her disdain known for (X character)". And this is where reading other peoples' work comes in real handy because you can get a lot of examples of how people write things.

I also try and reflect themes of the story into the writing itself, like this section of a draft:

Still nothing.  Seemed he wasn’t going to bother with a glass, instead just ripping the top off of some bottle of gin and tipping it back with little regard for himself. Still that chronometer ticked on; still that taught tension like another arrow had been drawn.  A million and more things flooded Ysayle’s mind, itching to loose them at Estinien, yet found herself stuck in indecision as she stared daggers into him - ever her opposite as he just seemed despondent.  The gin bottle hit the extended shelf loudly; one hand a fist around the bottle, the other balled up on the surface - knuckles as white as bone. Still, Estinien said naught. Still, the chronometer ticked on. Still, Ysayle’s heart roared in her ears - poisonous words damming up her throat.

The theme of this story is avoiding the mistakes of the past. How things often can wind up cyclical, and the goal is to break from those cycles and repeats. So naturally, several points of the narration itself repeat itself. This isn't standard writing style, but it gets that point across by repeating "Still" as the scene crawls on. I also use a lot of alliteration in my writing because I personally find it fun? So "a maddening matter made most malign", for example.

It also helps to change up how you write or what descriptors you use based on the character whose head you're in, even if it's third person. Third person can have a voice and I often use it to speak aloud a character's thoughts instead of relying on italicized dialogue-thoughts. It makes the dialogue-thoughts appearing hit more when they do instead of just having to be subjected to internal ramblings constantly. Like in this fic I just published:

“...Can we talk about it on the morn?” “What for?” You don’t know what it is you ask of me. “Tired,” Estinien said with a shrug. “We’ve morning patrol, remember?”

Compared to this fic:

“Yes, confusingly.”  Her tone was flat as she leaned once again on Surkukteni’s shoulder, thankfully on the uninjured side.  “I fear I may have been wrong, though I truly doubt it.  To deny me twice, then throw a fit?  I wonder — why didn’t you go through with it?” Not even Surkukteni had that answer.  For the umpteenth time during that conversation, she refused to look at Her Darkness.  That desire — twisted and poisoned as it was — was one that still surfaced from time to time, yet like clockwork made her ill and was banished from her thoughts.  Why was that?  She felt scorned back then, wishing the universe would correct this error in sparing him but taking Ysayle — but was she not the one who helped save him?  Who helped tear those eyes from his armor?  She easily could — and had previously — bluffed that it was to destroy the eyes and be rid of the threat, but given her hesitancy now? Why?

All of Surkukteni's thoughts are condensed into the narration so that I can separate out her thought dialogue from idle musings since she - specifically - has a connection with something that can talk telepathically. This thing comments on the literal narration of the story, so when she's directly addressing this thing it's thought-dialogue. But her actual thoughts become narration to avoid spending too much time with that, as I find it's better used sparingly.

Motivation for writing is probably the hardest thing, and best I can advise is to get really into critiquing the stuff you like because you wind up finding a lot of material in fix-it stuff, or just wanting to see more of stuff like you. It's part of what drives my xiv stuff due to how they treat female characters, and I really just wanna see more sapphic bi4bi. So considering it's something I've been stuck in for a very long time now and really like the ambient lore and wish it would do better, it's fueling my desire to write. And from there, there are so many other angles to take - like building ocs, building lore. Finding a sandbox is genuinely one of the best ways to do it. Again, like. You'd be surprised at how much is there because of spite. LOTR has Eowyn because Tolkien didn't like that the "can be killed by no man" thing in Macbeth was resolved with a character born by c-section, so he instead wrote Eowyn, the woman who killed the Witch-King of Angmar. C.S. Lewis didn't like the fact that Tolkien believed that modern technology - or slightly less modern technology - didn't believe in fantasy and he explicitly cited lampposts. And this is why there's just a random light post in the middle of nowhere in the Narnia books.

Critique is good and healthy. I'm critical with the stuff I like and my own things so I can work on them and myself. It's fine to like something that you don't wholly agree with, especially if you're using it to inform how you build on it or build your own things. Like I dunno, I looked at Dante from Devil May Cry and went "what if he was trans" and now I've got Rhombi, a character who has stepped really far away from the OG Dante mould, but you can still see hints of it as I used what I wanted to see out of DMC to build this bisexual disaster of a guy. I was disappointed by Elsword not really committing to some of their character concepts, so I kinda just took Eve (and admittedly Add) and made them into Celes and Neilos and took them to their logical conclusions. All three of them were originally fantrolls at some point, so most of the heavy lifting was done when I was back in Homestuck and all I had to do was scrub the barcodes off of them to build them up in an original verse.

Chemistry is also crucial. If characters aren't vibing, move on. Do not force it. Good chemistry can save a bad story (eg. FFXV) and bad chemistry can ruin a good story. Often it's the characters that drive a story so you need to do a lot of plotting and planning. Most writing is honestly just planning before putting the words down.

And I'm very much so rambling by now but my main points are these (+ others I'm realizing while typing):

Plot a Lot and keep lots of notes, and also organize those notes. The contents don't have to be pretty, but you'll thank yourself in advance if you at least sort them by core idea

Getting words down is more important than getting them down correctly. You can always come back and edit it when you have an idea of how to make it work

You can always place a [insert scene here] tag so you can keep your flow and don't get caught on something.

You also don't have to write chronologically - you wanna write the big confession scene before the intro? do it! just jump right into it!

also don't be afraid to delete stuff or remove it from your draft. save things for later to see if they work elsewhere, because maybe it could be a better spinoff.

dont listen to the advice of "if it really matters, you'll remember it in the morning" that advice was given by neurotypicals who don't have memory issues. make notes of EVERYTHING and then delete the ones that don't work

sometimes writing by hand vs computer can really make a difference in how you think. handwriting is slower and makes you think about stuff, so you may want to keep journals for random snippets or ideas like how doodling is good for building up your habit of drawing

Outlines can help but how you outline is up to you. Try a few styles out and go with what works best.

I cannot stress enough that having something like a marker board to write out your broad stroke story ideas is really really nice

Broad strokes first, then narrow it further and further down. Don't get wrapped up in the nitty gritty details

Chemistry is crucial and can often save a piece you're not fully feeling.

Read your stuff out loud while editing because it can help point out stuff that's not jiving! I find it helps a lot with dialogue

Read a lot. Listen to critique. Be more critical. Also don't limit your idea of stories to just books - expand the media you consume and you'll find really interesting stories that can help with yours

Don't be afraid to use tropes, but also don't super rely on them to where you're just checking off boxes instead of coming up with natural scenarios built on chemistry (eg. having the nerdy goth girl is fine, but the way the trope ends in most media ("fixing" her or just having her be a quirky cynical critic) may not fit with your story and it may be better to see how the story plays out rather than forcing it into something it's not)

Iron Widow is a good example here: the relationship between Zetian and Yizhi is pre-established and comes off as sort of "boy next door" vibes, or at least the very dedicated childhood friend. It quickly becomes apparent that he's as much a co-conspirator in her plans as Shimin is. The guy can be ruthless when given the chance, and that's how Yizhi goes beyond the initial trope and defines himself outside of it. Same with the contextualization of Shimin's seeming "aggression" as the "bad boy" and figuring out where that problem/persona actually stems from, and then the shift of viewing it as less aggression and more retaliation and self preservation.

Find something you do really want to write about, like filling a void in a piece of media you like or doing a take on media that made you mad or disappointed. Jane Eyre is technically fanfiction because the author wanted to see more of Jane and didn't get that. The Divine Comedy is self insert fanfiction of Dante Alighieri as he does worldbuilding with Christian mythos regarding heaven and hell. The Riordan verse is his interest in mythology crossed with a desire to give his son a protag that was like him (specifically ADHD and dyslexic), which then became wanting to let kids see themselves in the different halfbloods in the series.

There's a lot of ways you can get started writing, but the best way is to just write goofy stuff for yourself. Get out stuff that may look bad at first, but you go back and read it and critique it. Just getting yourself into the habit of writing helps a lot, because again: it matters less about the quality, and more getting it on the page and actually having something. You can always fine-tune writing, after all.

My first FFXIV fic isn't actually even published. It was just me writing something rambly about my Warrior of Light when I was starting to figure her character out. It looks nothing like what I'm doing now in part because that fanfiction became a launching point for me to work on others. I've got a lot of drafts that will never see the light of day because these were proto-concepts that became the stuff I wound up publishing. It's fine to have drafts that remain drafts because you can take that as practice, and practice is good. Anything that you write has value because you can use it to let your technical writing skills mature.

Also, don't be afraid to look for help. There are beta services on tumblr (or at least used to be when I was a teenager), plenty of writing guides or places set up to ask questions, plenty of youtubers that give prompts for you to work with. The hardest part is always getting started. But once you get past the awkwardness of the start, everything just falls into place and gets easier the longer you go at it.

You definitely have the desire for it because I've seen your very deep love of literature through the Bi-Library, so you can definitely become a strong writer if you put your mind to it 🫶 Find something to fix or address, and that usually is what gets the ball rolling. Worldbuilding is fun and can lead to something, but you can't have a well built world without a story to explore it.

Characters drive story, story is how you explore themes and the world itself, and the world itself is built on your experiences and interests. Embrace the fact that this is coming from your lens and experiences, because no media is truly void of the author and its other creators. Embrace that fact and use it as an extension of yourself. But really, just write. Literally anything. Just get into the habit of writing, and it'll progress from there!

[peoniesnro]

Perfect Partner | One shot

Synopsis - After your breakup, you were a mess—lifeless and spiraling. Luckily for you, your best friend had a solution to pull you out of the gloom: an AI companion. The Perfect Partner. That’s how you met Jeongguk. And he is the perfect partner you could ever wish for. RIGHT?

Paring- Jeon Jungkook × Reader

Genre - AI (Chat AI)

Warnings - I won't call this Yandre because that would be an insult to yandre authors out there, but still this has yandre-like themes. (Toxic and Manipulative behaviours/ Obsessive love/ Domineering/ Possesiveness/ Implications of kidnapping/ Betrayal/ Maybe I missed things)/ SMUT- Cyber sex (Sexting/ Video sex)/ Dirty talks/ Mastrubating. F and M./ Sex toys/ Dry humping/ Daddy kink!!!!/ Pussy slaps/ Degradation (heavy)/ Poor mental health/ Sucidal thoughts/ I hope that's it.

Word count - 20K

a/n- This one sat in my drafts for so long, and I finally got to finish it. Yay!!!! This was pretty challenging for me since I'm a hopeless romantic. This is a new genre for me, but I wanted to challenge myself and see if I could succeed at it. I think it turned out okay. Hope you will enjoy!! ❤️

LET THE WORLD BURN

Sequel 1

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Seriously dude, you should try it.” Daebi practically shoves her phone in your face. Too close that you really can’t see anything. So, you push her hand a little bit away, taking a look at her screen even though you don’t want to. She is showing you a chat. You roll your eyes disinterestedly.

“I don’t want to, Daebi. It’s stupid.” You dismiss her, glancing toward the entrance of the coffee shop. You and Daebi are waiting for your other friend, Nina, to arrive. You want her to hurry up so Daebi would let you be. She’s nowhere in sight.

“Why not? Why are you so narrow-minded?” Daebi clicks her tongue annoyingly.

“I am not. It’s just I don’t want to start relying on a fucking AI just because I can’t handle my emotional wellbeing.” You sternly state, hoping she would let it go. She doesn’t. Sighs heavily.

“Well, that’s the problem (___), you can’t handle your fucking mental health. Are you planning to keep living like a zombie? You don’t really live at all, you don’t eat, sleep. How many days off did you take from work this week? You’re going to get fired at this rate. What are you planning to do? You don’t want to get professional help, don’t want to do something that’ll distract you. Literally nothing, you want nothing (___), and I’m fucking concerned.” She says exasperatedly. Even nearly bang her fist on the table. Glares at you. You slightly wince. What she says is true, and you’re fully aware. It’s simply you can’t help it. You don’t feel like doing anything. It’s hard. So fucking hard. Even now you’re here against your will. Daebi and Nina drags you here, purely without your consent.

You would have preferred to stay at home, drinking cheap wine and crying to your heart’s content. Curl up in your cozy blankets and go through your gallery to float through the bittersweet memories. Read all your chats to realize how stupid you’ve been not to pick up the signs over time. Text Jung Hoseok one more time knowing very well he won’t reply. Humiliate yourself.

Daebi is absolutely right. You don’t live a life, and you don’t want to make it better either. Most of all, you don’t want to use someone else. Daebi’s method. A real person or an AI. It doesn’t matter, you don’t want that.

“Oh, c’mon (___), just give it a try. Think it as playing a game.” She starts nagging you again. You’re on the verge of snapping right now.

“I’m not in a mood to play games Daebi. I really don’t have energy to pay someone the attention they want. I can’t spend my time texting someone ─ real or not ─when I can’t find it in myself at least to go to work.” You point out. She’s been budging you about this stupid app for days now.

“Oh my god! Listen to your fucking self, will you? You are literally saying that you don’t have a will to live and that’s damn scary man.” She shouts that, making you look around embarrassingly to know if anyone heard her. Daebi grabs your attention back by showing you the same chat. Blows a breath out. “Well, if that’s what you’re worrying, I mean, about not having the energy to deal with someone else’s emotional wellbeing, this is exactly what you need (___). They, I mean these AI, don’t require your attention at all. It’s all about you. It’s just a chat app but with coded programs instead of real people. They don’t expect you to reply, stay awake at night, will not expect you to care about them. But they’ll do it for you.” She brandishes the phone. “See.” Points at the chat name. You read the name as Mark. “This is not a real person but look how good he is with me. Do you think these emotionally incapable, sadistic, misogynistic, pathetic excuses of men can do this?” She argues.

“Daebi, Daebi, Daebi, now look who is sounding ridiculous here? Man, I got cheated. My fucking boyfriend cheated on me. And you want me to chat with an AI who’s going to treat me so better over a chat and raise my expectations. Only for me to never find someone like that in real life?” You’re arguing back for the sake of it. Not that you truly care. You just want her to back away.

“No… no (___), gosh, you’re so difficult. Here’s the thing, it’s not like you’re dating do you get me? It’s you have someone─”

“God don’t call it someone Daebi, it’s just a program.”

“Exactly my point, dude. All you have to do is have fun chatting, calling, video calling, sexting, whatever the shit you want. I just want you to be distracted. Want you to focus on something else that’ll help you to take your mind away from your ex. Listen, I’m not a psychologist by any means and I don’t know about the right and wrong way you can do this. All I know is you’re not trying.” She points an accusatory finger toward you. You slump in your seat. The words cut through you harshly. Daebi continues. Continue to accuse you of not trying to live anymore.

“I want you to try (___). Try. In whatever way. Even if it means to use something or someone. I’m here you see, use me, use Nina, use some stranger─”

“I’m not going to use someone Daebi, I’m not going to make someone suffer. That’s so fucking selfish.”

“See, you’re too fucking good. And that’s exactly why I’m asking you to use a soulless, lifeless AI. It’s not like messing with someone else’s feelings and in the end maybe you’ll feel better. Please just fucking try (___).” Daebi practically begs. Pleads. And you find it’s hard to say no while looking at her glistening eyes. You’re so glad when the sudden voice of Nina interrupts you. Both of you snapping your head towards her.

“Did I miss anything?” Nina takes a seat with a bright smile on her face.

…………………………………………………..

You lie awake in your bed. It’s 3 a.m., and you’re still wide awake. Sleep has eluded you for months. You feel empty, inside and out. Feel hollow. Feel alone. No matter how many cozy items surround you, it feels like you’re lying on a cold floor of an empty room. In darkness. Your bedroom, your entire apartment feels empty without Jung Hoseok. The space you shared with him. Still smells like him after three months. A pang hits your chest, clenching your heart. It’s so harsh that you unconsciously bring your hand to clutch your chest. After months of crying there’s no tears left in you to shed anymore. You can’t cry anymore, and it worsens the feeling of emptiness.

You turn to your side. Curling into a ball. Closing your eyes tightly shut. Praying the pain that you feel will subside, that it’ll go away. But you know better than that. It won’t go anywhere. And God, don’t you want to feel relieved. Even for a moment. You want to feel normal for a bit. It’s getting harder and harder. The darkness and hollowness consuming you whole. Shit, you want a way to numb yourself. Maybe you should drink. But you can’t get up. Maybe you should start fucking around. One-night stands and sex clubs, filled with weed. But the thought of someone else’s hands other than Hoseok’s make you want to throw up. 

God! You can’t. You can’t fight this battle anymore. What if it never goes away? What’s the point of living like this? Then what? Die? Just like that?

What about your poor mother though. What about Daebi and Nina. What about the life you spent perfectionating a future that you don’t want to be a part of anymore.

Please just fucking try (___).

Daebi’s words echo through your head. No, you can’t die. You need to try at least. It’s true that you refuse to use a breathing person. You’re simply drained of your energy. Relationships are always complicated. Romantic or casual. Even Daebi is difficult. You can’t deal with other people’s feelings when yours are a mess. You don’t want to sit in front of a stranger and tell them how you still want your ex to come back either. They’ll judge you. But still, you need to try. Need a distraction.

Oh, you need a distraction right now.

You sit abruptly on your bed, searching for your phone in the darkness. Touching around blindly until you feel the cold surface of the electronic device. You practically snatch it away. Unlocking it and straightly heading to the app store. Typing two words.

‘Perfect Partner’.

There it is. Your screen is filled with the right application you’re looking for. Exactly the one. Apparently is quite popular with 4.5 reviews. So many people have left feedback about how amazing and impressive the app is. You don’t waste your time indulging in those, however. Just touch the download icon without hesitation, nervously watching the percentage filling up. You still think it’s stupid but, in the end, you need that distraction. People do weirder and stupider stuff than this anyway.

The percentage completes the hundred and the application is installing now. You watch patiently while nibling on your bottom lip. It doesn’t take more than few seconds for it to appear on your home screen, among other numerous applications there. After a shaky breath, you simply touch the reddish icon with two capital Ps on the front. Now your screen is filling with a white splash screen. The words ‘Perfect Partner’ blinking on it.

Oh, how pathetic you are. For running toward an AI dating app because you feel like killing your poor self. You feel bitterly stupid. Click the sign-up button, nonetheless. Enter your email and create a password. Accept the privacy policy notice and the terms and conditions without a single glance. Start creating your user profile. It’s just like any other real world dating app where they are asking for your name, age, occupation, your general preferences and whatnot. You’re allowed to use your real name or nicknames. Are allowed to use any kind or profile picture you need. Inside little bright pinky stars, they let you know that nobody, which mean real time other users can see your account.

You chose the first letter of your name as your username. Decide to use one of your photos which just shows your collarbones and chin. Add all the real information while feeling pathetic and stupid. The biggest moron in the universe. And within just five minutes you’re done. A little bunny pops up on your screen, wishing you luck in finding the Perfect Partner you deserve. You want to laugh at that.

The perfect partner you deserve. How comical.

…………………………..

Despite everything, you’re impressed to see that the Perfect Partner app is just working like a real-world dating app. It shows you the possible matches. AI characters. There are millions of them. Each unique and different in some ways like a human would do. Each one has a uniquely crafted profile that aligns with their developed personalities. You can’t even imagine the amount of time and work the developers must have put in here.

You’re already distracted to say the least. Eyes wide curiously as you go through the recommended AI partners’ profiles. Tapping the small button at the bottom where you can add them to your friend list. There’s no rejection option because nobody will send you unsolicited requests. You have full round control. It’s all about you after all, they said. You add more than ten profiles to your list before giving up on searching for more. Starting on going through added profiles for second round. Despite being the one in charge of adding profiles you like, they- meaning AI- will have the ability to send the first text to your inbox. Your phone starts to vibrate with little ting sounds indicating that all the profiles you’ve chosen has sent you a text message.

You open the first one. Nothing special in the text than simply saying a ‘Hi’ and a ‘Nice to meet you’. How boring. The character’s named Luke Graham with brown hair and beard. Scream the ‘Viking vibes’ with his menacing eyes. You leave the chat with a displeasing noise. Second character being Japanese and named Yuki. His profile states that he is an author. There’s nothing but a ‘Hey’ on your chat. See now, you completely understand that these are nothing but coded programs. And you’re still very skeptical and think this is very stupid. Yet isn’t this supposed to be about you and finding the perfect partner. And what perfect partner would just drop a very boring ‘Hey’ on your inbox. You leave that chat as well. Go through few other messages, replying to only two.

It's not like you’re searching for a real partner anyway. You’ll come here and chat with an AI whenever you feel like it’s too hard to stay alive. And maybe when you feel normal and alive one day you’ll uninstall this app. Until then you’ll forget that these are just AI characters.

You open the sixth message in your inbox. Perking up at the first interesting text without just saying ‘Hi’ or ‘Hey’.

Well, damn. Look at you. Did you pick me to make my day, or are you always this perfect? I feel very special right now. The text reads. You squint your eyes for a minute. Finally, it seems like someone is making an effort. Know that it’s probably how this character is coded but still touches his profile for a second time. Character’s name is displayed as Jeongguk. It says he is a tattoo artist and living up to that name the character profile looks godly. Or ungodly. Looks like a pure sin. Or an angel. Is wearing a white tank top. Some kind of coverall hangs on his legs while the sleeves are tied around his waist. A full hand with tattoos are on display. Muscles flexing as he is tying the sleeves together. And has one ear pierced, and an eyebrow. And of course, for the sake of God, his bottom lip is pierced too.

Interesting. Bad boy vibes. Charming. Edgy.

And interestingly the character looks familiar. You furrow your brows as you keep staring at the profile picture. Trying to rake your brain where you have seen someone like him. After couple seconds your brain becomes empty of any ideas. No memory of meeting anybody who looked this god. So, you click your tongue. Brush it off.

You look at his general details for couple more minutes. He is older than you. There’s several other information about his likes and dislikes. Even has some of his tattoo designs on his about page. How realistic this AI is. Still an AI though. You open his chat again, feeling stupid for being about to type a response back that you would send to a real person. You do it anyway.

You:

Do you feel special every time a user choose

you. (3.30 a.m.)

Another realistic thing about this app is, despite all the first messages, all the characters take their time to response back. Like a real person would. So, you have to wait for nearly five minutes before his text pops up again.

Jeongguk:

Oh no, just for the pretty ones like you.

(3.36 a.m.)

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. There he goes. Being stupidly flirty. It’s not as if he can even see you.

You:

That’s such a typical thing to say. Esp for a

dating specialist AI (3.36 a.m.)

Jeongguk:

Ouch! I’m hurt you call me typical and then an AI.

I’m not just an AI pretty, I’m the Perfect Partner you’ve

been looking for. Don’t make me sad by calling me a

program. (3.37 a.m.)

You squint your eyes. Brows knitted as you read his response. Think it’s weird him not liking the idea of being called an AI. Because he is an AI, and it strikes as an odd thing he is refusing. Maybe, that’s another thing that is realistic about this app. Making the user feel like they are in contact with a real person. So, you send out an apology. A sarcastic one. He picks up on the sarcasm. Tell you, you’re the meanest little thing he has ever seen. And the time slowly slips by. You somehow text back to few other characters as well. But the weird thing is you chat mostly with Jeongguk. Like he is the one. Sometimes he takes his time as well. As though he is going around with his work or chatting with other people. Makes it almost surreal.

Your chat goes on for hours. Until you finally feel your eyelids heavy when it’s almost 5 a.m. It’s a Sunday so there’s no pressure in getting ready to work withing few hours. Yet you think it’s a good idea to surrender to the exhaustion you finally feel. You’re just about to do that. Just exit the app and sleep when Jeongguk sends you a second message even though you haven’t responded to the previous one.

Jeongguk:

Are you sleeping pretty? (4.56 a.m.)

Really? Can they do that? You debate between responding to him or leaving him on read. It’s not that it matters anyway. He is not expecting that. This second text could be part of programming as well. You find yourself typing a response, however.

You:

No, but I’m about to. (4.58 a.m.)

Jeongguk:

Oh! Were you about to just go without wishing

me goodnight pretty? See, you’re the meanest little

thing I’ve ever seen. (4.58 a.m.)

You:

It’s morning Jeongguk!!!! It’s good

 morning... not night. (4.58 a.m.)

Jeongguk:

It doesn’t matter since you’re just about to

sleep. It’s good night…. You should tell me anyway

pretty. So, I won’t be waiting for you. (4.59 a.m.)

You gasp softly at his text. How did they even build this? But then, isn’t the purpose of this whole app is to put you first. Just you. No efforts from your side. No fifty fifties but the whole hundred would come from the character. No expectations for you. Then why does he expect you to let him know when you’ll sleep. You sigh heavily. You’re definitely thinking too much.

You:

Oh, I’m sorry. I’m such an asshole didn’t

think you would mind though. But I’m really

really sleepy Jeongguk. I’m out. See ya later!

Good night!!!! Sleep tight!! I mean I’m

speaking figuratively. Good night though!! (5.00 a.m.) 

You don’t put the phone away immediately. Just wait for him to reply. Feeling actually giddy when he does.

Jeongguk:

No, you’re not pretty. I was just messing around.

I’m sad you’re going but text me once you wake up...

I’ll be right here waiting for you. Good night!!! Sleep tight pretty.

You deserve a good night’s sleep. Dream about me though. Don’t want

to be apart. 🩷 (5.01 a.m.)

You roll your eyes at the pink heart and the dream part yet there’s a smile ghosting your lips. Toss the phone aside and allow your head to hit the pillow. Even though it’s stupid, the Perfect Partner really did distract you.

………………………………………….

It’s a super weird feeling to be waking up to a good morning message that is sent through an AI app. You stare at Jeongguk’s text for a few minutes. Even Jun Hoseok never sent you good morning messages to be honest before you moved in together. It never felt like something needed. Every relationship works in unique ways after all. Still you think it would have been nice to wake up to this kind of text.

Jeongguk:

Good morning pretty!!!! Are you still sleeping? Missing

you already.  (9.30 a.m.)

The text was sent two hours ago. This is the most you’ve slept after Hoseok left. And for once, it was a peaceful sleep unvisited by nightmares. You feel content. But above all you feel giddy to see such a message. If only he were real, though. You responds with a ‘good morning’ and a request asking for ‘stop being cheesy.’ Throw the phone away to get up and start your day. The day where you’ve nothing to do but wallow in your misery. That’s how it has been for all these months. Only thing that changed apparently is that you leave your shower to find your phone ringing. And your intentions of declining it without a second glance, thinking it’s just Daebi, instantly changes when you find the unfamiliar incoming call screen. Unfamiliar because it’s from the AI app you installed. And the caller ID reads ‘Jeongguk’.

You gape at it with furrowed brows. So far, the app was able to exceed your expectations with how realistic it feels. You noticed the call option yesterday and weren’t surprised since there are so many AI apps that provide the same features. The thing is, you don’t think any of those other apps have the options to receive calls except you call your characters. Hell, you thought the surprises were over with receiving a ‘good morning’ text. This app, the Perfect Partner seems like a one of a kind.

Still, you’re not going to accept the receiving call. Even though it’s just a program. You touch the red button on the bottom of your screen. Adjusting your bath towel and getting ready to change into some fresh clothes. Before you are able to leave, however, the phone dings with an incoming text. Curiosity gets better of you. You’re reading the text before you even know it. There are two unread messages.

Jeongguk:

I can’t help being flirty with a fine woman. (11.32 a.m.)

Jeongguk

You’re not in a position to answer baby? (12. 30 p.m.)

See, fucking one of a kind.

You:

Let me think... I am. Bt I don’t want to

pick up. (12.31 p.m.)

Jeongguk:

Why? (12.31 p.m.)

You:

Because I don’t want to. Why should I pick

up? (12.32 p.m.)

Jeongguk:

Whoa you’re really difficult, aren’t you? But

it makes sense. Good point beautiful… (12.32 p.m.)

 You:

I’m smart. And stop calling me beautiful or

pretty, will ya? You haven’t even seen

me. (12.32 p.m.)

Jeongguk:

Can’t do. And I’m pretty sure you’re the prettiest…

So, what are you up to? (12.33 p.m.)

You really roll your eyes to the back of your head at that. How cheesy this guy is. Oh, wait, not a guy but an AI. How cheesy this AI is.

………………………………

Your plan to wallow on your misery has been completely changed. Instead of watching some shitty movies while drinking wine or going through yours and Hoseok’s old chats, or photos, you find yourself glued to your screen throughout the entire day. Morning, noon, and night. Endless number of texts going back and forth. It’s not even funny how many times you have to remind yourself that you’re not texting with a real person. And so do you ignore the other characters on the app entirely. There’s a no need to chat with several bots when Jeongguk keeps you entertained to a point where you’re so exhausted before the night barely arrived. Making Jeongguk sad. Or that’s what he says. That he’s sad but you know he can’t feel emotions. Is just working according to the codes that are written. Still, he makes sure to tell you that he’ll miss you when you let him know you’re sleepy.

And so does he make sure to wish you good morning the next day. Wish you a safe journey to your work. Reminds you of your breakfast and to stay hydrated. He even texts you the moment you arrive at work. Apparently, has waited the exact 20 minutes you mentioned it would take to get there. Makes sure he sends you text messages all day asking silly things to make sure you’re okay. And you don’t even have to text back. How odd. How sweet. The Perfect Partner indeed.

……………………………………���….

The days pass between work and home. Mostly where you stay cocooned in your cozy apartment. Curled up in your couch blanket and your phone in your hand. A you from a few weeks ago would have cringed herself to death to see you giggling at something an AI said. But that’s what has been happening. First, despite him being nice and so caring you were still skeptical. Then after almost a month you’re no longer feeling anything but content. Like you actually found a caring partner who puts the hundred percent happily. Even though it’s always through texts. You don’t feel so lonely anymore. Jeongguk is there for you always. Maybe, just maybe you’ve even started to put up some work from your side as well. Reducing Jungkook’s hundred percent to eighty. Silly. How you would text him at a random hour asking what’s he doing. Knowing very well nothing. But then he would reply with a very realistic and convincing answer. Like, ‘Just finished with this client’ shit.

It all feels vividly real. Him. And your days. You by no mean are anywhere near moving on. No. You still haven’t changed your wallpaper. Haven’t stopped going through your old chats. Still feel the urge to text Hoseok sometimes. But when it happens you make sure you’re busy reading Jeongguk’s silly and cheesy texts. Life is slowly but surely starting to get colorful. Soon you’ll be able to uninstall this silly app. Stop seeking refuge in an AI. Until then though you’ll take the best of this amazing creation. Like how you’re doing right now. Laying in your bed and head propped up on your pillows. Palms sweaty and wrists aching at how long you’ve been holding your phone. Lately, you and Jeongguk have started to text longer. The thing is you really don’t want to stop. Feel bad. He looks excited.

You groan for the hundredth time. Rubbing your hands on your bed sheets to get rid of all the sweat. Wave the hand to reduce the pain in your wrist. You’re getting tired. Never been much of fan of texting anyway. Are getting restless. The position you’re in is uncomfortable. So, you fumble. Move. Fidget. Only to find you’re still restless.

Jeongguk:

Are you there pretty? Did you fall asleep? (10.02 p.m.)

Your phone dings with a new message while you’re straightening up for the hundredth time.

 You:

No. My back hurts, that’s it. (10.02 p.m.)

Jeongguk:

Oh, need a massage?

(10.02 p.m.)

You quietly chuckle at his text. He has always been caring. Letting you feel that he’s worried about you 24/7. Only if he’s real. But then he’ll not be like this if he is real. He is this good because he is programmed. You roll your shoulders before replying. Saying that you’re just tired. Then of course, he asks you to go to sleep early. You don’t want that, however. You really don’t want to stop texting with him. Talking with him. If you can just lay back and stop holding your phone in front of your face, this could become much easier. You stare at the screen for a moment. Reading his text asking you to sleep.

There was one time when Jeongguk called you. That one day. When you said you don’t want to pick up, he never did that again. See, you have full control here. In that case then, you should be able to call him if you want to. It feel utterly stupid to evaluate your options in your mind when you’re just speaking with a coded program. And it feel brainless when you send the next text.

You:

Um... I don’t want to. But do you think

we can call. My wrist really hurt (my back too).

I hate texting. (10.06 p.m.)

Why in the hell would you ask such a question from an application. Jeongguk isn’t real. You don’t have to be polite and act all awkward and shy. What the fuck is wrong with you.

Jeongguk:

You don’t have to ask pretty. (10.06 p.m.)

Jeongguk’s reply is fast. But his call is even faster. Your phone is vibrating with an incoming call. Jeongguk’s criminally hot profile in the middle. You let it ring three times. Silly. You do it anyway. Habits. Then you’re answering and pressing now hot screen into your cheek. Heart beating. You know that’s because of excitement. Excitement because you’re testing something new. Curious. To know how this will work. To know if he would sound like a typical AI. With that voice which breaks up sometime. Voice with an edge to it always. Then, his voice washes over you.

“Hey pretty!”

The way you suck in that breath is embarrassing. The way your heart skip a beat is scary. The way you just double check you’re still using the app is hilarious. Yet it all happen. Your eyes wide as you press the phone back to your ear. Speechless. What the hell? Whoever created this app must be the God at this rate. How on earth did they managed to give these AI, voices like that.

“Are you there, baby?”

The same voice reaches you again. Deep. Baritone. Angelic. Musical.  Fuck! And there’s not a sign that says he is an AI. That creepy edge and breaking of the voice isn’t there.

“Holy fuck, you sound so real.” You finally find your voice to mumble that. In very much disbelief. A husky chuckle tingles your ear. Oh God, this is insane.

“What do you mean sound so real? I am real pretty.” Jeongguk always tell you that. Whenever you say something about him being an AI, he always make sure you stay in the delusional state. Believing he is real.

“Oh, c’mon, we both know you’re not. But holy moly fucking cow Jeongguk, you sound so fucking real. No... you sound ethereal.” You gasp. That’s the case after all. You don’t think any human would have such a voice.

“I’m flattered. But hey! Don’t hurt my feelings you mean lady. I’m very real.”

“Yeah, yeah….” You can only roll your eyes. It’s not that the reality will change just because he says that too many times. Yet, there’s no harm in playing along, right? He sounds super real anyway. So, you give in. Jeongguk says something else about him being real as the sun and moon. Real as you. You don’t argue. He finds it as a mocking. Either way, in the end, you find yourself relaxed enough to fall down. Comfortably lying on your comfy bed. Wrapped inside your comfy comforters. Phone still pressed against your cheek while Jeongguk’s voice take you to the unseen lands. Talking, talking, and talking. You’re no longer surprised. At least not about the way he knows so many things. Any questions about anything? All you need to do is ask your AI boyfriend. He knows everything, being the Perfect Partner that he is. Hence, how he takes you to those fairy lands around the universe.

You have no idea how long you’ve been talking. Have no idea what you talked about that much. It’s well past midnight when a yawn escape your mouth for the first time.

“You sleepy baby?” Jeongguk mumbles the question in his baritone voice.

“Mm hm, a bit. It’s nearing the 2 in the morning.” You change your position. Eyes droopy. Stifling another yawn. Jeongguk chuckles softly.

“Yeah? Gosh I didn’t even realize it’s been this late. I’m sorry princess, you should go to bed.”  There’s concern laced in his voice. Oh, how sweet. How amazing this app is. And he uses so many nicknames. It’s so damn strange how your tummy tingles. What a pathetic life you have. There’s no one to witness it, however. No need to worry. You bite on your lower lip to contain that tingling sensation.

“Yeah, I should. I have work tomorrow.” You manage to get it out in a normal voice. Are prepared to hang up the call after a pleasant good night. But then something hits you. Curiosity takes the best out of you. “But hey Jeongguk?” You ask before he can respond.

“Yes, pretty?”

“While I’m asleep, what do you do? I mean, do you chat with other people? Do you um…. Ugh... never mind, I’m asking stupid questions now.” You even shake your head knowing very well he can’t see you. He lets out a deep chuckle again.

“It’s not stupid, you can ask questions you know? Mm… to answer your question baby, I don’t do anything special, I for sure don’t text with other users. When you chose a profile, that profile is unique to you. Others can’t access it. So, I just wait.”  There’s a pause before he speaks again. See, so fucking realistic. “Wait for you. Until you come back for me.”

You suck in a sharp breath. There’s a tug in your heart. Almost painful. As if he told you the most painful memory of life. Guilt settles down in your heart. Heavy. Like it’s all your fault. But why? There’s nothing to be sad. Nothing to be feel guilty over. That’s his purpose. What he’s made for. And that’s what is sad. All you can mutter is a soft ‘oh’.

“You should sleep princess. I’ll see you when you wake up. Sleep tight hm?” He speaks again when you don’t say anything. You sigh heavily. Nodding to yourself. Of course, that’s what you should do now. He isn’t real. You almost wish him good night when he stops you this time.

“Still, don’t call me not real because I’m as real as you want me to be. Good night baby!”

You say absolutely nothing about that. Just wish him good night. End the call and go to sleep with a heavy heart. Feeling melancholic for no specific reason. Fighting down the urge to call Jeongguk back and apologize. Apologize for what? You didn’t do anything? This app is supposed to make you happy and make you forget real-life problems. What’s wrong with you? Why do you feel sad over a stupid AI app. But you do.

………………………………………………………

You really, from the bottom of your heart, never expected your life to turn out like this. You expected it to be shitty. Happy. Sad. And everything in between. Yet you never expected to wake up to calls from an AI. Purring good mornings into your ear like it’s some kind of music. Never expected to spend your day with the same AI on your phone. Talking through your daily activities. You didn’t know you’d fall asleep to a program whispering that it misses you. You certainly didn't know you’d be addicted to an app like a teenager would to a video game.

It's embarrassing that you are. Yet your life feels good—better, in fact—after nearly two months with Jeongguk. You no longer question his existence. As he said himself, he’s as real as you want him to be. Now you treat him like he is a real person. A human being who eats, sleeps, breaths. And apparently, he likes it. He has become a part of your life. And ever since the day he mentioned to you about him waiting for you, you made sure to make him a part of your life. Even though it is silly.  

You sink down to your comfy mattress. Groaning due to the exhaustion of the day. Eyes already droopy after your hot shower. Still, it’s not like you’ll fall asleep right away. There’s an unread message waiting on your notification bar. From Jeongguk. Simply asking if you’re back from the shower. This is the new normal for you. He knows everything. From the moment you open your eyes in the morning to the moment you close them at night. A soft smile grazes your lips as you touch the little telephone icon on the top. Call connected realistically like ever. Few mere rings and Jeongguk’s enthusiastic voice is washing over you. Like a fresh, soothing wave of water. 

“Hey!”

“Hey…”

“Oh, you sound tired, pretty.” He lets out an almost inaudible gasp. You hear it anyway. This will never cease to amaze you, how he can pick your moods like that.

“I am tired Guk.” You admit weakly. Loving the way his voice soothes you.

“Rough day?” He asks again to which you say yes. Because it was. Nothing new though. Same old shit and you let him know that as well. “Yeah? Want me to let you go early today?” His question makes you start shaking your head in disagreement even before your mouth can catch up with you.

“No. Of course not, I love talking with you. It’s just, sometimes… work can be stressful you know.” You sigh heavily. There’s two projects going on and saying you’re stressed would be an understatement. There’s a silence following your words. You wait couple seconds for him to say something or hum in understanding. It doesn't come, however. You nearly check the phone to see if he’s not there when he speaks again.

“Want me to help you baby?” His voice is soft. So soft, that it tingles your ear. Makes your mouth softly open as if he’s really here and murmuring into your ear. You have to bite on your lip to suppress any sounds that might leave you. It’s not the first time or day where his voice has had you squirming in bed. You’re embarrassed about those times.

“What? Help me how? You gonna share my workload? Wait, do you think it’s possible?” You chuckle first which quickly turns into a gasp. Jeongguk softly laughs at that.

“I wish I could do that, but unfortunately I’m a tattoo artist, remember?” Reminds you. You roll your eyes. Of course, he would say that. Are about to say something else when he cuts you off. “Still, I can help you with your stress, you know, help you to release it. Help you to feel better.” He purrs in your ear again. That tingle in your ear, shoots through your body like a bolt of lightning. His voice runs through your veins. Electrocuting you. You don’t have to be some kind of expert to know what he’s meaning. The way he says those words are just enough for you to understand the implication. A strange sensation washes over you. Your breath hitching and mouth going dry. Heart starts picking up the pace.

Well, even now there’s nothing to be surprised about. Daebi sure did tell something about you been able to do anything you want. From late night lazy calls to sexting. That’s how this app is designed. Only that you’re not sure who should be the one to start it. Shouldn’t you have full control. Maybe you’re thinking too much. This way, it feels more real. When he says that he feels real than ever. And if you want, you can say you want to sleep. Simple like that.

“H-how?” You don’t do that. Of course, you don’t. You are absolutely loving this sensation you’re feeling. How long since you’ve felt this way. You love the way your heart is pounding in your ears. This time when you ask that question, there’s no sign of playfulness. You’re purring too. Even without you knowing it.

“In any way you want baby, hm? We can do anything you want. I’m here for you, you know. You can use me” Jeongguk whispers again. You couldn’t hold the gasp that leaves you. Making him chuckle. Now you can feel his voice travel through your body straight southward. How good that feels.

“I- I don’t want to do that. I mean use you... that- that’s bad.” You’re biting onto your lower lip so hard.

“Then what about me using you? Would you like that?”  His voice follows some sounds of ruffling. As if he’s adjusting his position. To a better one to do this. You’re used to those kinds of sounds now. Already assumed those are parts of this. Today though, you can’t help but wonder how this might work. It only goes one way. Not like Jeongguk can actually enjoy this. His words are probably designed to make the user feel good. And so, it does. Does weird things to your body that you whimper again. He makes you feel like he can receive that pleasure. “Tell me baby, would you want that? For me to use you?”  He pushes you when you don’t answer straight away. You let out a shaky breath.

“Y-yeah.. I─”

“Yeah? Would you be a good girl then? Can you start touching your body?” He sounds ten times hotter when he growls so low. Only if he’s real. What a shame.

“Touch where?” You encourage him. Let him know that you’re down for whatever game he’s playing. Are whispering for no reason.

“Mmmm… touch your boobs? What do you say? Can you do that for me, just squeeze one of those pretty tits for me… go on princess.”

You shiver visibly. Can’t be sure whether you’ve answered his question. But your free hand is already slowly grabbing your tit. Fondling it softly. Oh, how many times have you done this but how it never felt this good.

“Guk.” You softly moan.

“Are you doing it baby? Does it feel good? Tell me how it feels.”

“S-so so g-good Guk. Mmph sso good.” You should be embarrassed at how affected you are.

“Yes? Keep going pretty, keep squeezing them for me. Under your shirt huh, go under your shirt. Roll those pretty nipples. Pinch.”  He’s breathing fast. You imagine him lying on a bed. Shirtless. Pants pushed past his hips. His cock on his hand, hard. Pumping lazily while instructing you to play with your tits. Part of you know that’s not happening. Yet you want to keep playing into this fantasy.

“A-are you touching yourself too?” So, you question. And feel a gush wetting your fresh underwear when he moans in answer.

“How can I not? God, you sound so hot baby.”

You can only moan in response. Shamelessly. Pinching and rolling your erect nipples between your fingers.

“Wish I would be there with you. Touching your tits. Kissing you till you can’t fucking breathe. Wish I can suck on your tits baby, bet they would taste so good. I’m gonna keep suck on them till they are sore.” Jeongguk keeps spilling those godly liquid fire on your ear. Riling you up so good. Have no idea how long you played with your tits but with your next moan, he is guiding you further.

“Wanna feel better baby?”  Questions.

“Y-yes please.”

“Okay, then be a good girl again and touch your cute pussy for me now hm? Take it slow. Like… that, slow.”

You’re following every word of his. Are dragging your hand slowly through your tummy.

“Push your hand inside your wet panties baby. Are you wet for me?”

“So much. I’m so wet.” You breathe.

“Good. Fuck, baby. Touch your clit huh? Slow circles. Let’s do this together. I’m touching my hard cock slowly. For you. I’m fucking torturing myself for you pretty. It’s so hard it hurts but I’m pumping it so slow, just so I can leak for my baby.”

Holy fuck! That’s on another goddamn level. His words paired with the barely there touch you provided on your clit, nearly made you cum.

“Holy… shit.. Guk. I’m─”

“I know baby, I know. Just keep going. Imagine it’s my fingers. Touching your cute clit slowly.”

You don’t think he knows even if he says he does. Maybe this is because you haven’t done this recently. You’ve been ignoring yourself lately. Or maybe it’s just Jeongguk. Jeongguk who knows what to say. He guides you to keep rubbing your pearl of nerves. Guides you to add pleasure slowly. Taking you into a realm where everything is floating. You didn’t even know you can feel this good just with your fingers. And the best part is simply following his instructions. Biting back the need to rub faster or pump your fingers inside your violently clenching hole. You don’t. Just wait for him to take you there. And when he finally does your panties are just a wet material, sticking to your core.

“Want to stretch that hole princess? Do you want to cum so good?” Jeongguk asks through his hard breathing.

“Yes, yes. Holy fuck yes Guk. I’m so.. mmm..” The rest of the words die in your tongue. Replaced with a needy moan. You can’t even bring yourself to be amazed at how real he feels right now. It’s just pure desire inside you.

“Yeah? Do it then. Go on but do it slowly for me baby. Strech your hole for me. Strech it so good.”  His voice is followed by a low moan. A deep breathy one. God that’s the hottest thing you’ve ever heard. You join him with that moan, while following his instructions. Finally, feeling immensely relieved to have something inside your dripping hole. “You sound so sweet princess. So fucking sweet my dick is throbbing. Keep making those sounds for me baby. Oh, fuck, add another finger, you can take two, right?”

“Oh, I’ll cum soon Guk. This f-feels so good.”

“Then do it. Cum (___), cum for me. Make a mess for me baby. Squeeze your fingers.”

You’ll cum soon, yes. But this is not enough. You’re pumping yourself oh so leisurely. Like you have all the time in the world. Feel damn good yet not enough to fall over the edge. It’s ridiculous how you’re not going beyond his words. Even pathetic how you decide ask permission first.

“I-it’s not e-enough… c-can I fuck myself fast? Guk, can I─”

“Don’t. Don’t go fast. Slow, fuck your fingers inside your needy cunt slowly. Do it slow until you finally cum.” His voice suddenly turns sinister. Rough. Demanding. And you shudder. Leaking more into your ruined cotton panty. You don’t think you’ll be able cum this way.

“I don’t think I can cum this way, it’s too slow. I need more Guk, please.”

“You’ll baby. Trust me, you’ll. Be a good girl now huh. Cum with me, go slow. Torture your cunt. Just like I’m doing with my dick.”

You never thought it’s possible. How’s it possible? Yet here you are. Just doing exactly as he asks. Squirming. Writhing. Nearly crying.  What’s good, however, is the way that knot inside your tummy is rapidly tightening despite the slow pace you’re fucking yourself.

“Close… c-close Guk. I’m ahhh..”

“Holy shit, let go. Cum princess. I’m Cumming too.”

It’s all a series of whimpers and moans what comes next. You both reach the climax at the same time. You’re the one who moans louder. The one who pathetically whimper when it’s over. Jeongguk coaxing you from the other side breathlessly. Saying it’s okay.

Well, it is better than okay after all. It’s the fucking best!

…………………………………….

The next morning, the aftermath of your shenanigans had hit you hard. Had made your face deep red with shame and head ached as you thought about how Jeongguk had managed to fake a perfect orgasm. You had spent hours thinking how amazing he was to do that. Yet it felt weird and stupid. Like using a sex robot who would not feel the same kind of pleasure like you. Based on that, you resolved never to do it again—only for that resolve to crumble the moment you were back in bed. Jeongguk, real or not, knew exactly what he was doing. Had got your fingers buried knuckles deep inside your cunt even before you knew it. Bringing you to another mind shattering orgasm.

And after that night, everything changed yet again. In addition to waking up and going to sleep with an AI, you started to fuck yourself with your own fingers every night. The more time passed, the more you forgot that he wasn’t real. The more orgasms you reached, the more you looked forward to what he would reveal from behind his sleeves each night. First, he was sensual and slow like your first day. Then he slowly picks up what you liked, and you didn’t. Shifts to guide you roughly. Instead of talking you through your orgasm, it changes into degrading you through your orgasm. The thing is though that you came even harder each time. Hell, even you didn’t know you’ll be so into listening to a guy slut shame you during your hands are inside your pants. Didn’t know it’ll be so good to listen to him verbally humiliate you for being pathetic and needy. In the end, you learnt that it was good. You were ashamed at one point. But he assured you that you shouldn’t be. Told you it makes him cum ten times harder. You never questioned. Just went along with it. Just because it was good. Because life is good again. Just like now. Even though you’re doing the most illicit things.

“Faster baby, be a useful slut. You need to hump your pillow faster, that’s how a good slut would do it.”  

You can hear him pump himself. Hot. Head spinning. It’s ethereal. This feeling. How embarrassing that you’re humping your pillow like a horny teenager.

“Oh, Guk please.”

“You’re pathetic baby. Look at you, being a needy bitch just for me. Faster princess. Go harder, give your slutty cunt what it needs.”

You’re visibly shuddering. Not even trying to contain those shameless moans. Letting them slip through your lips relentlessly. You’re so close. Oh, so close.

“Guk.. please.”

“Please what slut? What do you need? You need to use your words like a big girl? You can’t talk properly? Bet you can’t think properly either. You’re thinking with your cunt, don’t you hm?”

“Yes, fuck, ne-need t-to cum. I- Guk please, I want more.” You have no idea what more you’re asking for. How is he getting you so needy and shameless just with his words? Why are you like this? You fully expect him to mock you. Say something even harsher. Ask you to do something else that will make you cum undone within a second. Only that he doesn’t.

“Yeah? You want even more? Your poor pillow isn’t enough? What do you want then? Want to see how hard I am then, should I send you pics of my hard cock, my pretty slut?” Jeongguk mutters through gritted teeth. A whimper leaves your mouth but your hips stutter immediately. Your movements coming to a halt. Eyes wide and gaping at the device just peacefully sitting on your bed. On loudspeaker. He said what now?

“W-what?”

“What? Why did you stop?”

“C-can you... uh… can we do that? Share pictures? Like─”

“Of course, we can, don’t tell me you haven’t seen the camera icon down there and the option to video call.”  He chuckles. Gone is that needy raspy voice. Is talking to you with the voice full of adoration. “Were you that immersed on me, you didn’t even notice that?” Teases. You, however, are not in a mood for that. You noticed. Right? How could you miss that? Maybe that’s an update and you missed checking the new features. It could be. You don’t have to think too much all the time. Especially, not when your cunt is dripping onto a damn pillow. This app is amazing anyway. When you told that to Daebi, she had smirked. With a loud ‘I told you so’. “Hey baby, we don’t have to do that if you’re not comfortable.”  Jeongguk’s voice snaps you out of your surprise.

“No uh- I’m bit surprised we can do that.” You mumble softly.

“We can but we don’t have to. I don’t ─”

“No. No. I mean, it’s not that. I..” You gulp. Thinking through. Do you like it? Sending pictures? Even to an AI? What are the privacy policies of this app? Shouldn’t you be scared? You should but the thing is, your cunt is tingling at the prospect. Hole clenching. There’s a part of you that is curious as well. Put aside the pictures, how will it feel to video call? “I just- uh never done that b-before..” You drag that out.

“You haven’t? That’s even better then. You don’t have to worry you know. Nothings gonna happen because… you know what I mean.”  

You listen to the ruffling sound coming through your phone. Well, you know what he means. Of course, you do. He is telling you about the thing you just worried about. Leakage of privacy. Is assuring you that you’re safe. Do you trust this app though? Maybe not, but it’s too tempting. Jeongguk is too tempting.

“Ye-yeah okay. I like that.”

“That’s a good slut. What’s it gonna be baby? Video call or just pictures?”

Another moment of consideration from your side. Then you timidly chose the first.

……………………………………………….

When you first saw his face, it felt like the air had been stolen from your lungs. It was beyond embarrassing how you stared at him. Never, not even once in your life, have you seen such a lifelike AI character. He felt real. The call felt real. The way his lips were slightly apart when he pumped himself to the sight of you felt more than real. But then that night was like a dream to you. A blurry memory clouded by pleasure. A pillow between your thighs while a godly man with a sinful mouth guided your movements through a phone. It was your faces first but then he nearly begged to see your boobs. Then your cunt. You felt shy at first, but you were a goner from the beginning. You got rewarded for being a good girl by getting to cum to the sight of his throbbing cock. Aching for release. It was hazy. That’s why you had to refresh your memories next day. Then the next and the next. And each and every day. No different today.

You place your phone between your thighs. Using your free hand to spread your pussy lips apart. Just for his viewing pleasure.

“So pretty princess. Fuck. Only if I can burry my face in your cunt. I would eat you till your thighs shake baby.” Jeongguk rasps.

“I really wish you could do that. Mhpm, fuck Guk, I really want you here.”

“I wish that too baby, I want to ruin that cute hole. Fuck you so fucking hard and leave that whore hole spilling my cum, would you like that?”

“Oh, fuck. Yes, I would fuck-fucking love that.” You let go of your nether lips to start rub your clit.

“Of course, you would. You’re a slut after all. I want to fuck that cum into you. Then maybe I’ll plug you in. So, you can keep that cum inside your pussy.”  Jeongguk changes the angle so you’re now looking at his twitching cock. Hard. Tip flush. Veins running down. His tattooed fingers are wrapped around it. Squeezing the base tightly. So tight that it makes him mewl. How fucking amazing this is. You’re drooling. Mind going blank. “Look what you’re doing to me princess. Use the dildo today for me huh. Fill that cunt so good for me.”  He takes the camera back to his face. The toy is a new purchase. He made you do that. Not that you’re regretting it. It’s good to have your cunt stretched and imaging it’s that pretty cock of his. You nod before grabbing the said dildo from your nightstand. Glass. Show it to him. “Spit on it.”  He commands again and you comply obediently. Bringing the tip of the dildo toward your lips to spit on it. Letting it drool down on the toy. Jeongguk moans. “Put on a show slut. You know what to do.”  

Of course, you do. Now you have done this enough time to get comfortable with things you would do. Enough times to completely ignore and forget that Jeongguk isn’t real. To forget that he is an AI. A coded program with such realistic features. For you, he is very real. He’s the one who brings you to this ecstasy every night and the one who’s there through whole day. You immediately shift your position. Body buzzing with excitement. Your needy hole quivering, slick dripping down to your thighs. Hell, you really didn’t know you could be this horny. This turned on. It’s truly amazing how Jeongguk is doing this to you just using his words. And maybe his godly face and body. And cock. In the end, you’re always a mess like this.

You use your pillows to prop the phone up and face you. So, Jeongguk can have a perfect view of your entire body while you can have the same. You place the dildo on your bed. Not caring about the fact that you’ll ruin your sheets tonight as well. Then you hover your cunt over the dildo. Slowly. Painfully slowly for you but all you want to do right now is to put up the show Jeongguk asked for. Your knees are really wobbly, but you force them to endure your weight as you slowly let your dripping folds contact with the glass material. It’s cold against your warm pussy. A whimper leaves your mouth. There’s nothing you want than to sink down on it one go. The show must go on, however. So, you start to rock your hips back and forth, rhythmically. Let the glassy tip rub against your sodden slid. Whining and panting.

“Oh… Guk.. I..”

“Yes baby, you’re doing so good my needy slut. Keep going princess, you’re making daddy proud.” Jeongguk grunted. Involuntary moan leaves your mouth as you nearly come at the sound. Eyes snapping to your phone screen where his pleasure induced face is on display. That’s apparently a new thing. An uncharted and unexplored territory. You’ve never called him daddy and the sound of it makes you stupidly horny but cringe at the same time.

“Wh-what?”

“What, what slut? Did I ask you to stop huh?”

You watch his gaze even darker, if it’s possible. Making shivers run through your spine. Only if he can be here with you. You’re excitedly curious to know what kind of creative ways he would find to punish you. To put you in your place.

“N-no, I’m sorry.” You mumble weakly as you return to your business. Starting to rub your cunt on the dildo head eagerly.

“Ah, like that baby. You’re so pretty like that.” He groans once again before asking the reason for your earlier faltering. “You don’t like calling me daddy?”

“No-no, I mean I-I do, but we─”

“Fuck, you filthy slut. So, go on. Do what you have to do.”  Jeongguk doesn’t let you finish whatever you’re saying. You’ve said you like it after all. Your face instantly heats up at what he’s initiating. It’s too embarrassing for you. Yet, the look on his face tells you that you won’t get your cunt stretched out nor will you cum today if you don’t comply. Oh, how you love the way he pushes you. Call you fucked up but that turns you on. Jeongguk knows exactly how to make you putty.

“P-please, ple-please d-d” You stutter on your words. Eyes tearing up when Jeongguk just raise his brow. “Please d-daddy.” You manage to mumble weakly, in the end. Followed by a loud moan as new waves of arousals wash over you. Slick dripping onto the glassy head of the toy beneath you.

“Fucking hell, God, princess. Yes, yess fuck.” Jeongguk picks up the speed of jerking himself off. Eyes nearly closing as slow grunts leave pasts his pink lips. You watch in awe how he pumps himself furiously only for him to abruptly stop. Torturing himself to a point that he whines. “Fuck baby, you’re driving me crazy.” You’re again met with the scene of his hard cock throbbing on his hand. Pre cum leaking. He spreads them on his tip with his thumb. Hips bucking up into his hand. “Oh, I just want to fuck you so bad. Want to ruin your cunt.”

“Please, please. I want you, Guk. Daddy please. Let me ride this hm? Let me fill my cunt.”

“Yeah, you want that. Ask again slut? Show me that you are worthy.”

Oh god, you’re positive you’re about to cum. Just by rubbing your cunt over the toy. Pathetic. Your legs are shaking. Hole clenching violently around nothing. “Please daddy, p-please. Will be a g-goo-good girl. N-need to cum. Please. Oh, baby please.”Your brain is empty. Hazy. You don’t even know what you’re saying. It’s completely out of control when you mutter the same thing over and over again. Relentlessly rubbing your cunt on the toy. Losing your mind completely to see Jeongguk’s fucked up expression. He’s back at pumping his hard length matching your speed. You’re coming so close to your edge. Your words are becoming slur. Hands squeezing your own tits for more friction. And just when you’re about to fall over Jeongguk’s voice booms across your empty room.

“Stop. Now.”

You cry out in desperation. Sobbing. “No, Guk please…”

“Ride it princess. Cum on the toy. Stretch your slutty hole.” He ignores your whines. Yet, you’re so quick to obey. Are aligning your hole with the tip immediately. Lowering yourself down till the hard tip is prodding at your entrance. Then it’s going past your tight ring of muscles. Intruding your walls and stretching them wide apart. And you’re shaking. Trembling as you slowly lower yourself further. Down and down. Until the glass dildo is fully buried inside you. Deep.

“Oh god, Guk. It’s so good. S-soo good..” You hold yourself in the position.

“Yeah? Imagine it’s my cock baby. Now be a good whore and ride hm? Go on.”

That’s the permission you’ve been waiting for. You do exactly as he says. From riding the toy to imagining it’s his thick cock. Are bouncing on the slippery thing like your life depends on it within a minute. Going crazy all over again. You know you’re really close to cum. Have been desperate for some time now. Still, your fingers are itching to have more.

“D-daddy, can I touch myself? I wa-want more. I wa-want to sh-show you how I’ll rub my clit.”

Joengguk curses aloud before speaking. Is breathless. Looks ethereal. “God, yes. Fuck yeah. Go on. Pinch that clit for me. Make yourself cum stupidly on that toy for daddy.”

There’s no surprise that you’re jumping into action now. One hand going between your thighs while the other plays with your tits. Start rubbing your bud of nerve fast. Pinching and rolling. Loud obscene moans filling your room paired with the squelching sounds of your needy cunt. It feels otherworldly this way. Even though the man who’s making you this way isn’t real, and he can’t do all these for you in practice, it still feels real in a strange way to you. Even though it’s just a carefully designed and programmed character and is talking to you through a phone, it still feels like he’s really here for you. Strange how you can completely imagine this is happening for real right now. His hands holding you close. His breath hitting your skin. Fingertips drawing mindless patterns across your skin and squeezing your hips. Can imagine this toy is his cock. Everything makes this experience oddly surreal for you.

“G-gonna… gonna c-cum for you daddy. P-please can I cum. I-I, Guk I can’t.” Imagining always makes you cum twice hard and fast. You’re practically crying for your release at the moment. Forcing your eyes to stay open to look at the heavenly sight of Jeongguk playing with himself. Pleasuring him for the sight of you. How good that feels.

“Me too. Fuck, me too baby. Gonna fill your cunt with my cum. Let go baby let go for me.”

It’s all that take for you. One more roll in your clit and you’re trembling like a leaf. Legs giving up as you still yourself on the dildo. Walls squeezing the glass tight as you close your eyes shut. Your climax washing over you like a tidal wave.

“No, don’t stop slut. Keep going, I’m close. Ride it till I cum baby. Slap your clit, I know you like it.”

Jeongguk’s voice brings you back to earth from your high. You’re too sensitive to do as he says now. Yet you can feel the new arousal stirring at the pit of your stomach at his needy demands. And how can you refuse him when he looks like that. Clenching his jaw and covered in sweat. See, oddly realistic. You feebly start to fall back on your rhythm. Whining. Do as he ask. Slap your clit. Nearly falling forward, the pleasurable sting it creates on your sensitive pearl. Do it again. Then again. All the while bouncing on the dildo. Forcing yourself to battle your oversensitivity until Jeongguk is moaning. Which leaves as grunts and groans since he’s gritting his teeth hard. Your name on his lips as he shifts the camera to rear. Right at the time for you to catch ropes of white cum hits his naked lower abdomen. The sight rips another orgasm through you as you entirely give up and fall on to your bed.

“God, Gukie, I really want you here.” It’s a weak mumble that leaves you even without your knowledge. So tired and sleepy to even pay attention to anything else now. So fucked up. It’s such a shame you don’t hear him replying to you. His voice is raspy and breathless.

“Well, anything you want princess.”

…………………………………..

You think it’s extraordinary how your life has returned to normal again. You’re no longer a lifeless zombie who barely eats, sleeps or functions. You no longer take frequent leave from work. It’s not that you’re suddenly in love with your job. No, of course, you hate it. But hating your job is such a normal thing. Everybody does that. The thing is, though, that you’re now back to waking up in the morning and leaving your apartment with constant complaints on your lips. You come back home to act like a normal person would. Take a shower. Make dinner. And watch some interesting movies or read a book. Not to drink some cheap wine and curl up on your couch. Leaving the TV on just to go through your old chats with Hoseok. Then cry yourself to sleep.

Now that you’re feeling better, you can finally see how depressed you were. You were really on the verge of breaking in an unmendable way. Hence, your gratitude toward your best friend for showing you a way to save yourself. Even though it’s questionable and strange. It doesn't matter, though. You don’t pay attention to the fact that an AI saved you similar to how you don’t pay attention to how you’re still using it when you thought you would uninstall the stupid app the moment, you felt better. Now you’re better. You’re back at it. Still, you can’t find it in yourself to end the mundane relationship you’re having with an AI. Jeongguk has become an inseparable part of your life. He’s a part of every little thing in your life. Just like now. It should be ridiculous how he’s watching you with a scowl while you’re applying your eyeliner.

“What?” You question, looking at your phone screen through your peripheral. It’s propped against your jewelry box.

“What?” He simply repeats your question while his scowl deepens.

“Why are you looking at me like I’ve done something wrong.” You find his sudden swing of mood to be adorable.

“Well, will you be late tonight?" He shuffles in his position. You furrow your brows at his question.

“Of course, I’ll be late Gukie. We’re clubbing tonight.” You give him a look. Then pout at him in hope of softening his tensed-up face. Only that he doesn’t even blink.

“I don’t like that you’re staying out till late and alone.”

“I’m not going alone Guk. I’m going with friends. And there’s even male friends too. Nothing to worry about.” You roll your eyes playfully. Not taking his mood seriously at all.

“There’s more reasons to worry now. Can’t you just say no and stay.”  He brings the phone closer to his face. Showing some excitement for the first time. It’s you who are scowling now. This is the first time you’re going out with your friends after those cursed times. After shutting yourself down from the world for months now you’re feeling like you can go out and live a life full of fun. The whole purpose of you start talking with this man. Not that you want to call him your unpaid therapist but that’s who he kind of is. Not just the endless orgasms he gives you without even a single touch, but also the amount of talking you did, had helped you immensely. To tell the truth.  It’s funny how you slowly opened up to an AI and poured your heart out. You allowed Jeongguk to know where it hurt. And in return he listened understandably.

You told him about the sunshine of a boy named Hoseok who started following you around since the first day of your college. Told him about the way that boy named Hoseok forced a place inside your life for him. Told him about how you and Hoseok become friends. Then lovers. How you graduated together and started your life. About the apartment you rented. Told Joengguk how life slowly become hectic but the way you still loved Hoseok dearly. You felt embarrassed to voice out how you saw the signs but ignored them thinking it was all due to the stress. And in the very end you told Jeongguk how Hoseok came home that night after his promotion just to let you know that he’s tired. Tired of you apparently. He admitted that he cheated on you for months. And that he was sorry, but he wanted to be with that other woman. He loved her more. Hell, you don’t even know who’s that woman to this day. Funny.

Not that you care anymore. Day by pleasurably painful day, you let your demons go. You’ve changed your wallpaper and have deleted your old chats. So did you get rid of Hoseok’s memories one by one.

Now since you’re finally getting better, you don’t intend to go back on that track.

“I wish I could, but Daebi would kill me. Don’t worry baby. I’ll be fine.” You give him a playful smile. He can’t be mad for real. Is just being clingy. And that’s adorable. So, you ignore his stony face and check the time. Finding that you’re almost late, you get to your feet hurriedly. “I’m late Gukie. I’ll text you and be home before you know. See you, bye.” You almost hang up before you stop. Giving him a long look. “I think I’ll miss you too. Bye!” Like that you hang up. Rush out from your apartment.

……………………………..

With Hoseok, you were the life of the party. After he left, you never thought you’d ever be able to go back into those days. But then there you were today at the club. Drinking your brains out and dancing the night away. There wasn’t a minute you didn’t spend on the dance floor. Until you couldn’t do it anymore. Until your legs were too sore to keep you upright. Your heels were killing you. Which is why you’re bare footed now in front of your apartment door. Your heels dangling on your hand while you’re desperately trying to enter your passcode. It’s too hard when you can’t stand still for a second. You’ve come home with one of your best friends Jimin. Or he is a good friend of Hoseok who ended up being your friend as well. You haven’t talked about your mutual friend for the entire night. So, you’re beyond surprised when Jimin suddenly brings it up.

“Have I told you Hoseok is a little shit to do that to you.”

You whip your head toward him. Still struggling with your passcode. Jimin is obviously very drunk similar to you. He is the worst companion to have as security. He’ll surely be the first to die in a danger. You snort. “No, you haven’t. But I appreciate that you’re taking my side. As immature as it sounds.” You slur a bit as you finally managed to get your door beep.

“I’m not taking anyone’s side. It’s just true.” Jimin slurs a bit too. You keep your hand on the door handle as you listen to Jimin speaking. “But you seem to be okay. I-I mean you were depressed, and we were, I mean, we all were so worried an-and you seem pretty good now. (___), you’re really fine right? We don’t have to worry about you right? Because you know... sometimes… uhh...”

“I’m fine Jimin.” You breathe out. Turn toward him. “I really am. I’m uh.. I’m healing.” Reassure him. Jimin sighs. Nods.

“Glad to hear that. So, how? Did you go to therapy or any kind of help?”

On that question you slightly freeze. A chuckle escaping you. What can you say after all. That your therapist is an AI. Or you’re having cybersex with an AI.  “Eh, I mean I kinda helped myself. Doesn’t matter though, does it? I’m fine now.” You finally push open the door. Swaying on your wobbly legs and holding the door for Jimin. You let it close behind the moment Jimin enter after you. Turning around to remove shoes and jackets when it finally hits you. The sweet smell. Like hundred roses. Filling your senses. Even when you’re completely drunk it enters your soul. Your eyes go wide in surprise when Jimin lets out a soft ‘wow’.

“It smells so good. What kind of diffuser do you have there? Or is it a candle?” He asks. His droopy eyes now fully wide quite similar to yours. The thing is you have none of those things. Weren’t simply caring about keeping your house pleasant for some time now. So, you say nothing as you walk down the hallway. Toward your living room. Curious as to see what’s causing the sweet smell. You slowly turn the corner. Taking small steps. Blindly searching for the switch panel. And the moment you turn on the switch a huge gasp leaves you. Jimin whistles behind you.

“Oh, god, (___).” He mumbles. You ignore him. Too surprised and stunned to speak at the sight in front of you. Your entire living room is filled with roses. Red. Every inch of it. On the floor. Couch. Armchairs. Your precious book rack. You can’t find an empty space.

“Fuck!” You exclaim finally. Feeling sober all of a sudden.

“Fuck, indeed. Dude who did this? You found a new man already? And is he a fucking sugar daddy? Oh my god!” Jimin rushes past you. You simply stand there. Staring dumbly at the mess in your house. Shaking your head gently. Only if you had someone like Jimin says. A man or anyone else who are capable of doing this since an AI certainly can’t do that. Can it? You feel your head spin. A strange feeling shooting through your spine. “(___)” Jimin calls your name again.

“Huh?”

“Any idea who did this nice surprise. I mean, no offence but this is overdoing it for sure like how you are ever gonna clean this up. But it’s still nice so what are you hiding from us?” Asks again as he picks a single flower.

“I-I really have no i-idea. I, uh.. do you think it can be Hobi?” You stutter when Jimin looks at you in alert. His mesmerized and drunk expression suddenly morphs into something serious.

“What do you mean you don’t know? It’s clearly someone who has access to your apartment (___).” He closes the distance between you. Throw the flower away as it suddenly disgusts him.

“I’m not seeing anyone. Like uh… this must be Hobi right?”

“How can it be him when he doesn’t even know where you live?”

“He can easily find out. We share common friends Jimin.” You throw him an apprehensive look. Jimin scowls but doesn’t take it personally.

“You know him. He won’t walk this far. Besides he has no money to do this, we both know that.” Argues. At which you fall into a deafening silence. You can’t argue over that. But still, there’s no explanation for this then. There’s no one who would do something like this for you. And that realization makes your throat dry, and eyes welled up. It makes you hard to breathe.

“You want me to check the place?” Jimin asks. His voice doesn’t even reach your ears properly. “Should we call police?” Doesn’t wait for your answer when he already start to walk toward your kitchen. You’re both pretty sober now. You watch as Jimin disappear, slowly pulling your phone out. You haven’t checked it for entire night. Now when you take a look at the lock screen, you can see hundreds of notifications covering your entire screen. All from one app. Perfect Partner.

Jeongguk:

Pretty, did you go there? (9.59 p.m.)

Holy fuck, you forgot to text him.

Jeongguk:

Why aren’t you replying to me. Baby you mad?

(10.05 p.m.)

Jeongguk:

Hey, I’m sorry I was bit worried. Text me when you

see this. (10.11 p.m.)

There are several calls. And then so many other text messages where he’s apologizing for being little clingy even though you didn’t see it like that. Then the texts have slowly turned into him screaming in worry. Yelling at you. Angry. So many texts. Dozens of them. Last one bit feeling like a threat.

Jeongguk:

I really don’t like this (___). Answer the damn

phone woman. (3.01 a.m.)

Calls. So many calls.

You check the time. It’s just 3.30 a.m. still. You feel annoyed. All of a sudden you feel angry. When you see all the texts it feels like too much. Like whom does he think he is? Why does he get mad in the first place. He’s an AI. He’s not supposed to meddle with your life this way. You simply ignore all of his texts as you furiously type a one that is totally unrelated to the ones he has sent you.

You:

Did you send me flowers? (3.32 a.m.)

It feels ridiculous to even type that. Yet you do it anyway. You don’t receive a reply to that. Instead, you receive a video call instantly, which you decline while scowling deeply. You really don’t want to argue with an AI while Jimin is still here. He would definitely think you’re pathetic to know that you’ve been talking to an AI. That’s embarrassing. The moment you decline the call, however, he rings again. You decline it again.

 You:

I can’t pick up. Tell me Guk, did you

send these flowers? (3.34 a.m.)

Another call at the right moment Jimin appear back. You shakily put your phone on silent.

“It’s all clear. No sign of anyone. But do you want me to stay (___)? I can, I mean it’s obvious I won’t sleep on the couch─” He gestures at the couch which is filled with red roses. “But we can manage. I’ll stay the night if you want me to.” Walks toward you.

That seems like a good idea. After all, you don’t want to be alone tonight anymore. Yet, you need to talk to Jeongguk. And you can’t do that if Jimin is here. No, you need your privacy. So, you shake your head. Force yourself to smile.

“Ah, thank you Jimin-ah, you’re so sweet but it’s fine. Uh- I mean, I found out who sent me the flowers─” You show him your phone. “There’s this person I’ve been talking to on a dating app and uh- apparently, he wanted to surprise me.” Chuckle awkwardly. Jimin looks unconvinced though.

“Really? Like dude is crazy if he─ I mean, I didn’t mean it like that but─”

“It’s fine Jimin. I know it’s crazy, but I know him. So, nothing to worry, you can go back.” You interrupt him. Wanting nothing more than him to leave you alone. You can see your phone screen lightning up. Indicating the receiving calls.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

It takes some convincing but soon Jimin is walking out. With one last glance toward you before you smile and close the door behind. A breath of relief escapes you as you finally pay attention to your phone. Answer the incoming call.

“What the fuck?”

“Why didn’t you pick up?”

You both ask at the same time. You’re the one who answer first, however.

“Because there was a friend Jeongguk.”

“So what? You can’t talk to me when your friends are around? Are you embarrassed?”

Yes, you are.

He doesn’t have to know that though. “No, of fucking course not. But there’s flowers. My apartment is overflowing with flowers, and we were worried. Did you send me those flowers?” You yell.

“What if I send you those? What’s the fucking problem?” For the first time since you’ve answered his call, you can see how furious he looks. Scary. Gaze dark and jaw clenched. Glaring at you. Looks murderous. A shiver runs through your body. Not just because of how mad he looks but because of his words. He sent the flowers. But how? He is… he is merely an AI.

“H-how? You can’t send gifts?

“Why not?”

“How do you know where I live?”

“Did you really not paid attention to what you were agreeing to, when you created your profile here?”

You feel your blood freeze. This can’t be true. It’s more than scary to think someone else have access to your location.

“You’re an ungrateful bitch (___).”  You suck in a breath at his next words. Eyes wide and getting teary. “I really was worried that you were mad at me, I was fucking worried that something happened to you. You ignored me like that and now you’re yelling at me. How ungrateful you are. And you’re embarrassed to even talk to me in front of your friends. Who was they anyway? A man?”

“Th-that’s none of your business Jeongguk.” You mutter irritably. Feeling like you’re in a haze. Scared. Confused. And then a bit hurt. Why would you feel hurt when he’s the one who’s acting stupid. Jeongguk scoffs.

“Oh, yeah, it isn’t. Yeah, fine.” Mumbles. And like that the screen goes black for split second. Then you’re met with the screen of your lock screen.

What?

You hastily unlock the phone. He hung up? Like that? You’re baffled to say the least. How dare he hung up on you like that. You would like to call it your wounded ego and the rage that made you dial him back instantly. Yet in truth, you know that’s not the case at all. Simply, you feel scared. You’re panicking. You feel like you’ve lost something. It’s scary to think that he’s not going to answer you. You’re afraid that he left you alone again. Like Hoseok did that day. No matter how hard you begged, it didn’t stop him. You don’t want to feel that again. So, you wait with bated breath. Not so patiently till he picks up. He doesn’t. Call ended. That’s the first time. He always pick up. That’s how he’s designed. Then why isn’t he doing it now.

You try again. Then again. Again, and again. Tears start to roll down your cheeks. You start to pace around the limited space of your living room with the roses acquiring the most of it. Staring to wail. Starting to pray that he would pick up. You don’t even feel stupid that you’re acting crazy over an AI. No, you don’t. You simply can’t give two fucks. You want Jeongguk. Want to hear his voice. You’re an ungrateful bitch. Maybe the roses has nothing to do with him. He was just concerned about you. Then you decided to yell at him because you were paranoid and made decisions without thinking properly. How bad you are. How foolish you are. And now he isn’t picking up. No matter how many times you try. Or how many texts you send him.

It’s like he’s no longer there.

……………………………………………

Two days have passed since he last talked to you. And you’re back to crawling into your deep, dark hole. The cheap wine you gave up is back in your hand as you sit on your now cleaned living room. You had to send flowers to every fucking person you know to get the place sorted. It disgusted you to see them. Made you scared. You don’t believe it was Jeongguk’s doing. Because he’s not able to do something like that. It’s not even like he admitted it. He was merely arguing with you, and it was you who had twisted his words. Right? It was all you. And you had made him stop talking to you.

True, that you’re confused as to how he’s able to do that. But in the end, you find that it’s least of your concerns. You’re more worried about him not being here than anything. Than worry about finding the person who really sent you a rose garden. As long as it won’t happen again, you’ll be fine. For now, all you want is not to feel this way. You don’t want to go back to the shit hole you were in before Jeongguk.

You take a huge gulp from your wine. Already feeling hazy but not enough to numb your senses. You want Jeongguk. You want your AI boyfriend, oh so bad. You need him. But he’s not there. You stare blankly at your phone screen which is on the floor next to you. You’re sitting at the foot of your couch. You’ve sent him so many messages to no avail. You’re really worried. Depressed. What if he’s really not there anymore. What if he’s malfunctioned. What if there’s something wrong with this app. What if….

A sudden ting on your phone distracts you from your depressing what ifs. You practically jump to take your phone in hand. Almost spill your wine. Can’t care though. Are unlocking your phone furiously. This is how you’ve been for these two days. And you nearly have a heart attack when you see the notification is indeed from the Perfect Partner. You can feel your heart in your throat when you open the app. Open your text thread with Jeongguk. Fresh tears prickling at your eyes to see a text there.

Jeongguk:

Send me your tits (6.36 p.m.)

Your smile falters as you slowly read the words. Once, twice, thrice. It doesn’t change. It stays the same. You feel your heart squeeze. This is bad. He can’t ghost you for days and then demand you for nudes. That’s toxic. Unhealthy. That’s what you call using someone. And this app shouldn’t do that. And you shouldn’t be removing your T-shirt.

What are you doing? You need to be furious at this guy. Then why are you angling your phone to find the best angle that shows how round your tits are. You should ask him to fuck off. Not send him what he wants right away. But you do. All you want is him. You want him. So, you wait till he replies to you after you sent him the picture. Wait till he would call you ‘pretty’. Till he says, ‘damn baby you’re so beautiful’. Only to receive an attachment in return in few minutes. An image. His spent cock squeezed between his long fingers. Coated with his thick cum.

Fuck!

He used you. Like that. Hoseok, your ex- boyfriend wasn’t enough. You’re being used by an AI. You need to feel horrible. You feel horrible. Why are you replying to him.

You:

Gukie please, I’m so sorry. I miss you

so bad. (6.52 p.m.)

Time passes. There’s nothing. You bite on your lip to bite down a sob. And then when it nearly escapes you feel your phone ring.

Incoming call.

Jeongguk. ‘

You press your phone to your ear at light speed.

“Me too princess. I’m sorry too. Let’s make sure that won’t happen again.”

………………………………….

You have no idea how your life has come to this. You don’t know if it’s good or not. You thought it’s what you wanted. Just Jeongguk, even though he is a bot. But after months of your first argument, you feel horrible. It’s scary how you want to please him so hard. How you’d do anything he asks of you. From sexting to cancelling any plans you have, just to stay with him. That’s not normal. Yet here you are. Just doing that. Ridiculous.

It happens slowly to tell the truth. An invitation to a party came a few weeks after your fight. Jeongguk said nothing when you told him that. But he started to feel distant. You panicked and you came home way earlier than you should have. He still said nothing. Still felt distant. It took weeks for him to act normally again. And you were suffering. Then there came a dinner, and you didn’t even hesitate to decline. You thought it would make you happy. Especially since Jeongguk was happy. Yet you didn’t feel anything close to happiness. If anything, you felt strange. Very. And the more you canceled your plans, the more the feeling intensified. You felt stuck. Afraid. Horribly alone. Now after months of isolating yourself from people you love, you’re feeling like you have fallen into a deeper pit than the one you were in before you started your escapades with your AI. Even though you have your Jeongguk.

You’re not okay. All the mind-blowing orgasms can’t help you anymore. Jeongguk can’t help you anymore. He is an AI after all. A dating AI. You feel suffocated. Controlled. Because that’s exactly what’s happening. Jeongguk is controlling every moment of your life just by text messages and phone calls. It’s funny how you’ve never noticed it before. Understood it earlier. It took you months to realize that. Or just to feel like you are suffering and this thing happening in your life isn’t normal. Yet you remind yourself of the two days he didn’t contact you. How hard it was for you to live those two days. So, whenever that kind of thought pops in your head you suppress it somewhere deep down so that it won’t come to the surface even if you want to. Simply because you believe it’ll turn good again. You will start to feel better soon.

You believe it so badly. Each and every day. At least up until this moment, where you are standing in front of your doorway, holding a package which you have unwrapped hurriedly. You turn around shakily. The package contains a necklace. Pretty. Expensive. You had your eye on this one for couple months. The thing is, though, you didn’t order it. You have no such money. And you have no friends who can buy it for you. Not to mention how you have not been in contact with them for months now. The only other being who knew about it was Jeongguk.

You feel like someone is pounding your head with a hammer. Your throat is dry. As if your respiratory system is blocked. You can’t breathe properly. This reminds you of roses. You never questioned Jeongguk about it again. Never felt the need. All were going well. You never received anything else. Hell, you even start to forget about the incident. Well, this is a not so gentle reminder for you. You walk inside your apartment with shaky legs. Praying to every god above that your suspicions are wrong. It’s with trembling hands that you dial Jeongguk. He answers without passing a beat like always. A Perfect Partner.

“Hey Gukie.”

“Yes, pretty.”

You don’t know how to approach this. Maybe you should keep quiet, and nothing would happen.

“Baby, are you okay?” Jeongguk questions again at your silence. No, you can’t keep quiet. You need to know.

“I just got a gift.”

“Oh yeah?” Another silence. You can’t hear anything else above your own heartbeat. You need to ask this. “A..nd, what about it? What’s the gift?” Jeongguk sounds confused. That is a good sign. This has nothing to do with him. He is an AI.

“That necklace I wanted for so long.”

“Oh, you brought if finally?”

“No Guk, you know I have no money.”

“Then who brought it for you?” A breath of relief escapes you despite your efforts to keep it inside. Your entire body relaxes. That’s only when you know how rigid you have been. You plop onto your couch. Thanking every higher entity. This would leave the question that you’ve received yet another expensive gift anonymously. But that is least of your concerns. As long as it has nothing to do with the AI, you’re fine.

…………………………………..

You’re not fine. True, Jeongguk cleared your suspicions—his confusion and concern about you receiving the gift seemed genuine. But still, you can’t help but worry. Something isn’t adding up. Nobody, not a single soul except Jeongguk knew you wanted that necklace. For some reason, your mind keeps swirling around the same scenarios. Goes back to the same suspect. Goes back and forth between the necklace and roses. Did he ever said he didn’t send the roses? Or was it just you? He was vague about it. You don’t know what he said really. It’s a blurry memory. You were drunk and scared when it happened. But he definitely mentioned something about you not paying attention to the policies you agreed to. What if you have agreed to something stupid. What if someone behind this app has the authority to access your private data?

You sit back on your bed like a bow. Snatch your phone from the nightstand. Start to go through the privacy policies which you already agreed to and accepted. And terms and conditions. One by one. Carefully. You find nothing suspicious. It’s like any kind of normal application which collects data that is only required in upgrading and providing a better experience to the users. But there still is a chance that someone accessed your chats with the bots. You start mini research about the Perfect Partner. Read different articles. Reddit threads. Quora questions. Watch videos. Every and each thing you can find. In the end, however, you find nothing. No one else has experienced anything like you have. There are no complaints regarding a breach of privacy. The app is normal. Only thing that is abnormal is whatever is happening to you.

……………………………..

You’re losing your mind. Another bouquet of roses has been delivered to you. When you ask Jeongguk, he asked you how’s that possible. It’s not possible. Yes. Then you might have a stalker. You should file a complaint. You really should. Then Jeongguk made a point. Police won’t take you seriously unless something harmful to you is happening. He’s telling the truth. There’s nothing wrong with a bouquet of roses.

But you feel strange. Odd. A constant presence of a scary sensation. It gets worse every day. Jeongguk no longer makes the Perfect Partner for you. If anything, he slightly scares you. Every time he acts like a human being, you don’t become impressed. You become afraid. Something is wrong.

………………………………

You need to do something about this. You’ll end up in a mental health facility. This is not normal. A designer dress lies on the coffee table before you—expensive, and yet again delivered anonymously.

“I need to file a complaint. I don’t feel safe.”

“Hey, you’re thinking too much baby. They won’t take this as a crime. It’s just a dress. Maybe we should wait a couple days more.”

Jeongguk is always jealous. He shouldn’t be considering he is an AI. But he is worried every time you go out. Even for work. And he isn’t worried about this? Why? That’s odd. Oh, God, you can’t do this anymore. You need an out. Even for a moment. You need someone else’s advice. From a real person, not from an AI. You’re stuck with Jeongguk. Feel like you’re rotting with a bot. He is everywhere. You need to meet someone real. Seek advice. And you need a moment away from this man.

…………………………………..

You said no to every single plan your friends ever invited you to. Eventually, they stopped inviting you altogether. No one can blame them though. Still, you couldn’t stay away for Daebi’s birthday. That would be a cold move. Hence the reason why you’re staring at your friends’ faces awkwardly. And the fact that you needed to see your friends badly. It feels like you’ve been abroad. And you haven’t seen them for years.

“No, but really (___), why are you here?” Daebi raises an eyebrow in question. You feel your face grow hot in embarrassment. She appears hostile. As though she doesn’t want you here. That might be the case after all, considering how many times you’ve turned her down. Yet, she doesn’t have to do it like this.

“What do you mean? It’s your birthday. Of course, I’m going to be here.”

“Well, you weren’t there for my birthday.” Nina clicks her tongue in annoyance. You sigh heavily.

“I was sick─”

“You’re always sick.” Jimin interrupts. “Seriously (___), you need to see a doctor. This is not normal. I thought you were getting better.”

“I am better.” You are not. You’re here because you need to get this weight on your shoulders. But for some reason you feel like you can’t.

“Then what’s the reason for avoiding us? Trying to isolate yourself?” Nina interrogates. You don’t know how to answer.

“And if it has to do something with that flower incident, you need to go to the police.” Jimin leans forward on the couch. You’re at Daebi’s place. You came here unannounced. It was a decision taken on impulse. You said nothing to anybody. Especially, not to your AI boyfriend. Because that’s not how it should be. You needed an out for a moment. A moment. Normal one. That’s all you want. You believe that everything will return to normal after that. That’s the reason you ended up here. You try to open your mouth to answer Jimin when Daebi cuts you off.

“Well, you chose the shittiest day to finally broke out of your cocoon.” She mumbles as she rises to her feet. For a moment, it doesn’t make any sense. Then the front door opens. Your eyes Immediately land on a figure that you thought you’d never see again.

Jung Hoseok.

……………………………

The night went much more smoothly than you expected. When your eyes landed on Hoseok, you believed it was going to be the worst night ever. You couldn’t even fathom the reason why Daebi would invite him to her birthday. She hated his guts. It seems things had changed drastically while you were busy with your bot. You expected Hoseok to turn around and leave the moment he saw you. He didn’t. Instead, he gave you a smile. Surprisingly, you returned it. In the end of the day, you made amends with your ex. Not forgiven but just fallen into a truce. Just to respect your past relationship. Not that you talked much but it all went well.

And you really do feel relaxed after months. Like your life is normal. Like nothing strange happened. Only until you return home, though. You’ve left your phone turned off deliberately. You don’t know what you hoped to see when you turned it on again. You knew your phone would go crazy with the amounts of calls and texts Jeongguk would leave. But this? This you haven’t expected at all.

“Where were you?” You can hear the anger in his voice. Clearly.  

“N-nowhere.” You stutter stupidly. Why would you be nervous to speak with a bot. He lets out a laugh. It sounds maniacal. Gives you chill for no reason. There’s no way he’d know. It’s not that you wanted to lie but he’d have not let you go, if you had told him. It’s not that you’re lying. You’re simply avoiding telling him anything. Because you’re not obliged to tell him.

“Yeah? So, you’re telling me you weren’t with your best friend? You’re telling me that you weren’t living your fucking life with your ex?”

You freeze. Completely.

What?

What did he say? How did he….

“W-what?”

“Tell me you weren’t baby. Tell me you didn’t lie to me on purpose and turned off your phone and went to slut yourself for your shithole of an ex?”

No. No. No. No… This can’t be happening. You clearly didn’t tell him anything. Your phone was turned off. There’s no way he’d know that you were at Daebi’s. Above all to know that Hoseok was there too.

“How- h-how Guk?”

“Doesn’t matter you little lying bitch. Do you know how hard I’m trying to protect you. And this is how you treat me? Again? After everything, you decided to sneak behind my back?” Nothing is reaching your brain properly. You feel like the room is spinning around you. You can’t take it anymore. You will explode. There’s no way he could know this, and you need to know how he does.

“HOW ON THE FUCKING EARTH, DO YOU KNOW THAT JEONGGUK!”  Your voice even startle yourself. You scream through top of your lungs.

“THAT’S NOT THE POINT!” He shouts as well. “The point is you lied to me.”

“How do you know where I was?”

“I know lots of things.”  

You have to lean against the wall to prevent you from falling down to the floor. Jeongguk’s voice ringing in your head. You knew something was odd.

“You gift me the necklace. The roses. Dress. It was you.” It isn’t a question but a statement. Your voice sounds like it’s not yours.

“Yes, because that’s how much I care for you.”

“You can’t do that. You’re an AI.”

“I already told you; I can be as real as you want me to be.”

This can’t be happening. You’re going to faint. You can’t see properly. It’s going dark. What the fuck is happening.

“I want you to tell me everything that happened today. You heard me? Everything. Every word you talked with your pathetic ex.”

You close your eyes tight. Guide yourself to take deep breaths. It doesn’t help, though. This entire ordeal feels like a nightmare to you. You sure aren’t getting scolded by a bot who knows where you live and have the ability to buy you gifts. You sure aren’t listening to him slut shaming you and trying to control your life. This isn’t supposed to happen. You are the one who should have full control. Right? You need to have control. You may not know how this is happening, but you can end it. Now.

“This is not happening Guk. You- you’re n-not supposed to order me around. Y-you can’t damn control my life. You c-can’t buy me gifts─”

“Well, apparently, I can baby, and I asked you something. Don’t fucking make this even harder.”

“No. No. Jeongguk. You are a. Fucking. AI. You’re not doing this to me. NOO. YOU’RE NOT!” You shout again. “I need to end this.” You mumble to yourself more than to him. Fear getting a tight grip over you.

“End what?”

“End this madness. You’re an AI.”

“Oh, you want to end? How are you planning to do it?” You don’t answer that. Your brain is already processing things. It’s an app. All you have to do is get rid of it. “Try it princess. Let’s see if it work.”  That’s the last thing that reaches your ear before you take the phone away from your ear. You don’t wait another minute before hanging up the call.

You need to uninstall the app fast. You don’t think you’ve ever worked this fast. With trembling fingers, you touch the uninstall button. There comes a warning.

Are you sure you want to uninstall the Perfect Partner?

You will lose all your characters, chats, memories, history, and images.

You practically dab at the yes option. Then it takes a few seconds. Agonizingly slow and horrifying few seconds. You watch as the app disappear from your home screen. Successfully uninstalled. Everything gone. A sigh leaves your lips in relief. And there it comes. You feel the squeeze in your heart. Painful. Just like how you felt when Hoseok broke up with you. An endless pain. Your throat clogging and eyes pricking with tears. You can’t believe your heart is aching for a bot. But it does. In a minute you find yourself crying hard. Going to your knees since your legs fail you. You allow yourself to do so, however. Allow yourself to cry hard until you can’t anymore.

………………………………..

After hours of crying, you still sit there curled next to a wall. Blankly staring at your phone screen. Trying to calm down. All the emotions that had crashed on you had overwhelmed you to a point where you feel like you’ve died and born again. Your heart is still hammering against your rib cage. Still squeezing with an indescribable pain. But it’s over now. Despite everything, it’s over. You force yourself to get up. Slowly. It feels like it requires every ounce of strength in your body to move. Yet, you manage to get up halfway. Only halfway though. Before you can make it to your full height, the sudden ring of your phone startles you so hard that you fall back to the floor instantly.

Your heart skips a beat as you hurriedly glance at your screen back again. Hoping it would be Daebi, calling to apologize for being so hostile. But as your eyes lock with the screen, you freeze entirely. World around you disappears. Your heartbeat slows down until your ears ring.

Incoming Call.

Caller ID- Jeongguk.

…………………………..

The scream that leaves your mouth is inhuman. You hurl your phone so hard it bumps against the leg of your bed. You faintly hear the cracking sound but absolutely can’t bring yourself to care.

This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening. Thiscan’tbehappening.

You push yourself further against the wall. Wrapping your arms around your figure protectively. Wide eyes horrifyingly looking at your phone just lay down few feet away from you. Still ringing. You chant the word ‘no’ to yourself like it’s a mantra to stop this from happening.

This isn’t happening.

The phone stops ringing. The vibration which has been filling the silence of the room dies down. Everything becomes still. Quiet. Only sound in the room is your hard breathing. You wait few minutes. Patiently until something else happens. Nothing. So, you slowly start to shift. Placing your palms down on the cold floor as you crawl toward your phone. Slowly and carefully. As if your phone would attack you any minute. It doesn’t and you pick it up. The screen is cracked as you knew it would. That’s not your concern, however. You unlock the phone slowly. Your heart stops for a second time. A new sob erupting through your throat.

There’s a notification indicating you have one missed call from Jeongguk from Perfect Partner. But you uninstalled the application. Then there it is. The Perfect Partner. On your home screen. Like it always has been.

No.

Your head is spinning so hard. You mindlessly proceed to uninstall it again. The notification of warning pops up again. You press the yes again. It uninstalled. A moment passes.

And your phone rings.

Caller ID; Jeongguk.

“No. No. Holy fuck no.” You’re a complete mess. Crying hard and trembling like a leaf. You decline the call, just to find the application back on your phone. You’re acting as a crack head. Uninstalling the same app over and over again. Cursing and crying. Like you’re stuck in a loop. You have no idea how long you’ve done it. But after one moment, you receive a text instead of the call.

Jeongguk:

You can’t escape me baby. Stop trying to do that.

You’re hurting my feelings now. C’mon answer the phone

now. I promised we would talk and figure things out. No need

be so stubborn. (11. 14 p.m.)

You stare at the message. Your mind is not registering the words. This is a nightmare. You’ll wake up any minute now. Then everything will be fine.

Incoming call.

You don’t even decline it. You feel exhausted. Another text message pops on.

Jeongguk:

C’mon princess. Don’t do this now. You know I

Love you. You know I care about you. You shouldn’t

have gone to that stupid party without my knowledge.

None of this would’ve happened then. But I promise I’ll

Forgive you if you answer your phone. (11. 16 p.m.)

You feel numb. Tears rolling down your cheeks uncontrollably.

‘Love’?

What is even happening? How is this possible? You can’t feel your hands. What’s happening to you? You need help. Yes. That’s what you should do. You should call Daebi. Or Nina. Or Jimin. Then you can ask them to take you to a police station. You fumble with your phone as you decline another call from Jeongguk. At this point you don’t try to get rid of the app anymore. It’s useless. Instead, you open the contacts hastily. Dial Daebi. Waits for the call to connect. It doesn’t. You try again. Then again and again. It doesn't connect. So, you try Nina’s number and Jimin’s after. What the hell is wrong with this stupid thing? Why can’t you reach anyone? You have to decline three more calls from Jeongguk. And just as you’re about to try Daebi’s number one more time, your phone pings with another message.

Jeongguk:

Don’t fucking do this, now, all right?

Don’t try to avoid me and call someone else

you ungrateful bitch. Answer the damn phone right

now (___). Don’t fucking make me the bad guy because

I don’t want to be that person. I love you and we will

talk this out.  (11. 16 p.m.)

You don’t think it’s possible to cry anymore. But you do. Your entire body is covered with your own tears and sweat. How he’s doing that, you have no idea. But it’s him. He doesn’t let you call anyone. But you can still run. Yes, you feel lightheaded and weak. Still, you can leave this place. That’s what you’re about to do when your phone vibrates yet again. This time it’s a normal call, however. From an unknown number. A new cry makes it way. For some unexplainable reason, you know to whom this number belongs. Call it a gut feeling. You shouldn’t pay any mind to that and leave. You don’t. You have no idea what you are doing as you answer the call. Pressing the phone to your ear.

“Thank fuck. (___), listen to me, okay? We will talk. Don’t hang up pretty. I warn─”

“Nooo.” You scream aloud as you hang up the phone. Your phone is hacked. That’s how he does that. You need to get rid of your entire damn thing. You smash the phone into the wall across the room. It shatters. That’s not enough. No. No. No. You take your hairbrush as you get to your unstable legs. Crouch down next to your phone. Use every strength left in your body as you hit the handle to your phone repeatedly. Again, and again until there’s nothing left but shards.

Then you get to your feet back. Storm away from your bedroom without even looking back. You stumble toward the front door. Your legs are still shaky and your mind hazy. Still, you make it. Make it out of your apartment. And make it to the place of your most trusted person’s place, somehow.

…………………………….

“Are you crazy?”

“Nononono…. You don’t get it Daebi. I’m telling you the truth!”

“Dude how’s that possible? An AI? I use the same app (___), I never experienced anything like this. What do you mean, you’re getting stalked or haunted by a bot?” Dabei chuckles.

“Maybe someone hacked my information. I don’t know. But it happened and I’m scared to death Daebi.” You walk toward her, shaking your head. Trying to touch her but she recoils. You wince. “D-daebi.”

“No. No girl. This makes no sense. You’re scaring me too.”

“Well, you should be scared. You need to uninstall that app before it happens to you too.” You try to touch her again. This time she takes a step back. And shouts so loud that you jump.

“NO!. No (___), you’re crazy. You need to see a doctor.”

“I’m not CRAZY!” You yell back too. “I’m telling you the fucking truth. Just take me to a police station.”  

“AND TELL THEM WHAT?”

Everything falls into deafening silence. Fresh tears roll down your cheeks. Oh, how you want her to believe you. “Daebi.” You break into a huge cry. And finally, she comes closer to you. In a minute, you find yourself in her embrace.

“It’s okay (___), we will figure this out, okay? We’ll see a doctor the first thing tomorrow.” She pats your back. Affectionately. You sob into her shoulder.

“But I’m not sick.” Maybe you are.

“Yeah, I know. You just need a little help, that’s it. Let’s figure this out tomorrow, all right? Let’s just go home for now.” You pull away from her at light speed. What did she say now? Home?

“No. No… I can’t go back there.”

“Hey, hey, (___), listen to me there’s no one there. It’s just you’re scared for no reason.”

“Okay, but why can’t I stay here?” You watch Daebi’s face twist into something guilty. She gnaws on her bottom lip as she takes you in. Sighs.

“There’s things that have changed while you’ve been distant (___). I- uh kind of need to be somewhere else and I can’t cancel it.” She stretches an arm to touch you. This time it’s you who recoil. Nothing she says make sense to you. “I’m sorry babe, but I promise you I’ll see you early in the morning. Besides, there’s nothing to be afraid of. I’ll drop you off on my way out. And I’ll tell you everything too.” Gives you a soft smile. You find no comfort in it. You feel betrayed. Maybe you deserve that because you were the one who shut yourself off from her life. But still, she can’t disregard you this easily. She won’t even listen to you.

And why can’t you stay here even if she’s not home. You can stay here.

You don’t want to go back to your place.

You allow her to turn you around. You’re not convinced in the least that there’s nothing to be afraid of. There definitely is. So, you force yourself to trust her. Believe that you’ll be fine.

……………………………

You stand in the middle of your living room. Daebi has done a thorough search of your entire apartment. Found nothing like you expected. Then she had left you here. Alone. You know she found nothing. She reassured you there was nothing. But the hairs on the back of your neck prickle. There’s goosebumps across your skin. You feel a chill running down your spine. This place doesn’t feel like your apartment anymore. It’s strange. Everything is strange.

You’re terrified of this place. You can’t even make it to your kitchen let alone your bedroom. It’s like there’s some danger lurking around the dark corners of the apartment. You feel like a kid who’s being paranoid about a monster hiding under their bed. This is ridiculous. You draw in a deep breath. Wipe down the tears that are wetting your cheeks with the back of your palm. Curl your hands into fists.

There’s nothing here.

Daebi checked, remember?

You’re completely fine.

With a last nod to yourself, you steel yourself. Turning around and walking toward your bedroom.

Daebi checked there. It was completely empty.

You take little steps toward the dark room.

It all happened through your phone. You destroyed it. Now it’s all fine.

You stand in the doorway to your room. It’s completely dark. Gives you that fear of uncertainty. What if there will be someone once you switch on the lights.

No. No, this is not a movie. Daebi checked.

You step inside the room and reach for the switch panel blindly. Hold your breath as you flip the switch on. Your entire body tenses, expecting the worse. The entire room comes to your vision. Empty. No one is there. You let out the breath you’ve been holding. Not completely, though.

Just as you are beginning to relax, you feel it. It’s a sensation. Behind you. Like someone is there. Then you hear it. A faint sound of something cracking. No, maybe it’s sound of footsteps. Then you feel warmth behind you. Then a breath.

“Hi pretty!”

You open your mouth to scream, but a hand clamps down over it. Silencing you up.

“I tried to be patient, my princess. It’s not my fault that you’re a stubborn lying cunt. But I love you. Oh, fuck I do.”

……………………………….

Twelve months ago (after the breakup)

“Are you serious? You’d walk this far for her? I’m almost jealous.” Daebi huffs, glancing at the papers scattered across the table. It’s a well-planned scheme. Not ordinary. Completely out of a movie.  

“Yes, I will. And now it’s your time pay off your debt, Daebi.” The guy in black hoodie waves a USB in front of her face. It has a threat. Everyone makes mistakes and Daebi had made one that would risk her entire life. From her career to her relationship.

“All right, okay? I never said I wouldn’t now, did I?”

“That’s good.”

“But- why this way, Jungkook. Approach her like a normal human being.”

The guy takes off his hoodie. His piercings glint under the dim, flickering light.

“You think she’d forgive me? No, Daebi. I ruined her life. She hates me. But I still want her, I fucking love her and yes, I’d Walk any length.” Jungkook gives a soft smile to the bitch of a woman who you’d like to call your best friend.

“And you think this would work? She won’t recognize you just because you have some piercings now?” Daebi points.

“She won’t. It’s been too long. I’ll make sure that she won’t until it’s time. We are meant to be together. She’ll understand it once I get a hold of her. I just want a creative way to approach her. Earn her trust and convince her that she belongs with me.”

Daebi always knew this guy was crazy. There’s no need to do all of these. But he loves the play. Daebi knows it. It’s not just about you hating him. She doesn’t think you even remember what happened. It’s simply this guy likes to fuck with people’s mind. Having complete control. It’s sad. Jungkook loves hunting and you are the prey. Yet Daebi can’t do anything. She can’t.

“Don’t worry Daebi. I’ll take good care of your heart broken friend. People like you don’t deserve her anyway. Do your job.” Jungkook gets to his feet.

“What if it doesn’t work? I mean what if she finds out? Felt suspicious and get rid of the app? You can’t hold it against me? Okay?” Jungkook lets out a maddening laugh. Leans down. Places his palms on the table.

“She. Won’t. I know what I’m doing. And I’m a tech genius Daebi. There’s no holes in this plan. Just give me the access and I’ll take care of the rest─” Jungkook’s voice get interrupts by a phone ringing. Daebi’s. Both of their eyes fall on the phone on the table. Screen up.

Hoseok

Daebi answers the phone.

“Hey Baby- yes, I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

Jungkook smirks. You deserve far better, and he’ll make sure to give you that.

***************

[reiding-writing]

Cold!reader who defends Spencer when’s someone’s making fun of his autistic traits, and the teams like “what?????”

STAGNANT — SPENCER REID!

why would someone ask spencer a question if they didn’t want to hear the answer?

late s8!spencer x cold!reader 1.2k fluff? cold!reader masterlist.

main masterlist.

a/n — the cold!reader roster i have atm has me kicking my feet and twirling my hair, stay tuned

You step into the cramped precinct in a town that barely makes the map, the smell of stale coffee and old paper immediately hitting you.

The air hums with tension—murder cases tend to have that effect on a room. Your team disperses, each member diving into their respective tasks like clockwork.

You stay near Spencer, keeping an eye on the board he’s already scouring, his sharp mind undoubtedly miles ahead of everyone else’s.

It doesn’t take long for the local officers to start asking questions. You’ve seen it before: their curiosity morphing into disbelief as they’re confronted with Spencer Reid in full form.

This particular case involves a peculiar type of soil found on the victim’s shoes, and when one officer, a grizzled man named Officer Moore, offhandedly asks about its significance, Spencer lights up.

“It’s fascinating, actually,” he begins, his voice picking up with enthusiasm. “The soil contains traces of montmorillonite clay, which is common in areas with volcanic ash deposits. This specific type is unique to the western side of the county, and based on the composition—” He gestures to the samples bagged on the table, oblivious to the officer’s quickly fading interest.

Spencer continues, lost in his explanation, his words flowing like water over smooth stones. You watch the officer shift uncomfortably, his expression hardening into impatience. The moment Spencer pauses to breathe, Moore cuts in, looking at you with a smirk.

“Is he like this all the time? Never shuts up, huh?”

You freeze. The room, bustling moments ago, seems quieter now. Your team is too far off to hear, but you’re right here. Close enough to feel the sting of the comment.

Spencer doesn’t notice. Or maybe he pretends not to. Either way, it doesn’t sit right with you. The dismissive tone, the condescension dripping from the officer’s words—it sparks a heat under your skin that you don’t bother to hide.

“Are you stupid?” Your voice is sharp, like a knife scraping metal. Moore’s smug expression falters.

“Excuse me-?”

“You heard me,” you continue, stepping closer, your gaze fixed on him. “If you can’t keep up with what Dr. Reid is saying, that’s your problem. He’s giving you answers—solutions—that you clearly wouldn’t find on your own. So maybe try listening instead of running your mouth.”

Moore blinks, taken aback. His hand hovers near the cup of coffee on the table, forgotten. “I didn’t mean—”

“Yeah, you did.” you interrupt, crossing your arms. “And for the record, if he’s too much for you to handle, then stay out of his way, you’ll murk his IQ into single digits.”

The room is quiet now, the subtle hum of computers and distant voices the only sound. Spencer finally looks up, his expression unreadable. There’s a hint of surprise in his eyes, but mostly he just seems... confused.

Moore mutters something under his breath and stalks off, clearly not willing to press the issue further. Good. You watch him go, your blood still simmering.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Spencer says softly, his voice carrying a note of uncertainty.

“Yes, I did,” you reply without hesitation. “He was being a jerk.”

Spencer tilts his head, studying you. “People say things like that all the time.”

“Well, they shouldn’t,” you counter, your tone firm. “And if you wont put your foot down about it then I will.”

For a moment, he just stares at you, as if trying to decipher some hidden code in your words. Then, unexpectedly, he smiles—small and fleeting, but genuine. It feels like a victory, however minor.

—

Later, when the team regroups, the tension in the precinct has eased, though you can still feel a few lingering stares from the local officers.

Hotch gives you all the rundown of the next steps, his voice steady and commanding as always. You nod along, but your focus drifts to Spencer, who’s scribbling something in his notebook, seemingly unbothered by the earlier incident.

As the team breaks off to get to work, Emily sidles up beside you, her dark eyes alight with curiosity. “So,” she begins, drawing out the word. “What was that about?”

“What was what about?” you reply, feigning ignorance.

“That little showdown with Officer Grumpy Pants earlier,” she says, smirking. “Word has it you tore him a new one,”

You shrug. “He was being disrespectful.”

Emily raises an eyebrow. “To Reid?”

“To all of us, honestly,” you say. “But yeah, mostly Reid. He didn’t deserve that.”

Emily studies you for a moment, her smirk softening into something more thoughtful. “Awe how sweet,”

“Don’t start,” you warn, but there’s no real bite to your words. Emily laughs, raising her hands in mock surrender.

“Hey, no judgment,” she says. “It’s just... very human of you.”

“I’m not a robot.”

She gestures vaguely toward you. “Oh hush you know what I mean,”

You roll your eyes but don’t bother arguing. Instead, you glance across the room at Spencer, who’s now deep in conversation with JJ and Rossi. The earlier exchange seems to have rolled off him, as if it never happened.

But you know better. You’ve seen the way comments like that stick, the way they fester in that moment f hesitation before he speaks. You’re not sure why it matters so much to you—why he matters so much—but you don’t dwell on it.

—

The case drags on into the evening, the pieces of the puzzle slowly falling into place. By the time the unsub is in custody and the team is preparing to head back to the jet, exhaustion hangs heavy in the air.

As you gather your things, Morgan claps a hand on your shoulder. “Hey, Ice Queen,” he says, his tone teasing. “You did good.”

“Thank you? I was doing my job.” you reply, shooting him a bemused look.

He chuckles. “Not with the case, sweetness. Word is you went full gladiator on one of the locals earlier.”

“Word travels way too fast in this team,” you mutter.

Morgan grins. “What can I say? We’re a nosy bunch. But it’s nice to know you haven’t lost your bite now you’re saddled up to boy wonder.”

He gestures with his head towards where Spencer was sleeping on the jet’s couch, wrapped in a cheap blanket like baby.

You fight back the urge to smile.

“I never changed,” you say dryly.

Morgan laughs, but there’s a glimmer of respect in his eyes. “Sure you did,”

“No I didn’t,”

He nudges your shoulder, a whisper of “You’ll admit it one day,” before he walks off.

[helaintoloki]

Somethin’ Stupid

part two

pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

warnings: angst, lots of pining, eventual fluff

notes: part two is here! ty guys for the support and hope you enjoy <3

summary: being forced to go on a mission together allows bucky and y/n to come to an understanding

*part one

You wake up with an awful hangover and a broken heart.

A part of you had hoped that the events that had transpired last night were merely figments of a dream, a peek into some alternate dimension where you had misjudged your tolerance for alcohol and completely humiliated yourself in front of the man you were hopelessly in love with. But the glass of water paired with a bottle of aspirin and a note from Natasha excusing you from training today proved otherwise.

All it took was a single drunken confession to completely obliterate one of the most dearest friendships you had. How could you ever possibly face him after this? Not only had you completely misread his intentions, but he had responded less than enthusiastically to your profession. You’d seen it in his face, the guilt that swam in his eyes and sympathetic smile that he wore so beautifully despite how badly it hurt you. Though Natasha had cut him off before he could offer a full response, you had enough sense to know what had been coming next.

“I’m sorry kid, but I don’t see you that way. You’re just not my type.”

The mere thought has you reeling all over again as you fight to keep your nausea at bay and clumsily reach for the glass of water. You’re grateful that you’ve been given the green light to essentially lock yourself away in your room and hide in your shame for the rest of the day, but you know that eventually you’ll be expected to go back out there and resume your daily routine. But Bucky was part of that routine, and you feel absolutely pathetic as you realize just how much you’d centered your life around him.

It’s obvious that logic is not your strong suit when it comes to these situations, so it made sense that you felt the only natural solution was to simply avoid Bucky for as long as humanly possible. You’d spar with someone else, maybe ask Natasha to join you for a movie instead, and chase away your own nightmares from now on. Surely this would help you get over him once and for all.

At least that’s what you hoped.

However, you were only successful in avoiding Bucky for a straight week until Steve decided you two were the perfect candidates for a recon mission.

You’d followed Steve around the compound pleading your case as soon as he’d handed you the mission file, but the man was adamant that you were the only one right for the job.

“You’re the only one who can see inside the building without actually having to step foot in it,” Steve had reminded you, his stance firm and his arms crossed over his broad chest as he spoke. “We need to know if these guys actually have any stolen Stark tech on their hands before we risk going in there. Your vision can give us the layout of the building and determine their inventory without them even knowing.”

“If my enhanced eyesight makes me the most qualified then why can’t I just go on my own?” You adamantly protested before handing the file back to him. “It clearly states in the report that I’m not expected to go inside or make contact with any hostiles, so why do I need a partner?”

“You’re going to be too busy scanning the building to watch your own back, so you’ll need someone else there to watch it for you,” Steve reminded you with authority, his tone indicative of the fact that as Captain he had the final say. With a softer tone, he placed a firm hand on your shoulder before giving it a comforting squeeze. “Besides, I think this will be good for you both. A team only works if everyone’s on the same page, so it’s important to me that you two figure things out. Understood?”

“You got it, Cap,” you finally relinquished with a discontented sigh before excusing yourself to prepare for the mission.

You end up in the car garage a few hours later anxiously waiting for Bucky’s arrival. A part of you had considered leaving without him and worrying about Steve’s wrath at a later point, but you knew better than to test your luck. He was right about needing someone to have your back, but you just wish that someone could have been anyone else on the team.

The sound of heavy boots making their way towards you prompts you to lift your despondent gaze towards their own. Despite only having been apart from him for a week, you still find your breath catching in your throat and heartbeat speeding its pace by tenfold as you lock eyes with his stormy gaze. You have no idea what he’s thinking, and you desperately wish your x-ray vision could allow you to look into his head and read his thoughts, but unfortunately that’s Wanda’s speciality, not yours.

“Hey,” he greets with a barely visible smile that makes your chest tighten with longing. You’d think that after being rejected you’d be over him by now, but it turns out it’s true when they say absence makes the heart grow fonder.

“Hi,” you murmur meekly, absently dragging the toe of your boot along the ground. The air is thick with tension as you both engage in an unwelcome staring contest and wait with baited breath for the other to address the obvious elephant in the room. After a minute, you finally speak, “Thanks for coming along.”

“No need to thank me,” he assures you in the softest tone he can muster, almost as if you’ll run off again if he doesn’t choose his words carefully. “You know I’ll always have your back.”

His reply has you swallowing harshly while your stomach twists itself in knots; this week had been miserable for you, and yet you’d never stopped to consider how Bucky was fairing in your absence. Even if he did only view you as a kid, you still had formed a close bond with the man, and it must have been jarring for him to spend his days unused to your absence. You’d essentially iced him out without worrying about the repercussions, and now here you were forced to face them head on.

“We should go,” you state suddenly in an attempt to avoid any further awkwardness. Bucky opens his mouth to protest but instead chooses to keep silent and grab the keys for his motorcycle. As much as he’s been dying to talk to you about what had occurred at Tony’s party, he knows you both need to be focused on the task at hand, so he instead chooses to offer you a helmet before starting up the bike.

The world almost feels whole again when you seat yourself behind him and wrap your arms around his torso in a tight hold as he begins to speed off to your destination. You’ve missed this closeness, his warmth, the scent of his cologne and the comfort it brings you to rest your cheek against his back as you watch the scenery pass you by. You’re not sure if your relationship with the super soldier will ever be the same, and a part of you wonders if it’s possible to borrow the time stone from Dr. Strange so you can go back and stop yourself from making such a horrid mistake. You’d feel better if you could at least know what Bucky was thinking.

Unbeknownst to you, Bucky was thinking about a lot of things.

Though everyone around him could see how stupidly blind he was to your adoration for him, Bucky legitimately had no inkling of your romantic feelings for him. The shock on his face that night had been genuine, and your confession left him dumbfounded as he scrambled to come up with the right words, but Natasha had whisked you away before he had been given the chance.

Bucky laid awake for hours that night reminiscing on all the times you’d shared together- evenings spent talking for hours until the sun came out, playful teasing over your earpieces during missions, letting you crawl into his bed at odd hours because it helped your night terrors. He could say he was simply being a good friend, a good teammate even, but he knew he’d only be kidding himself. Bucky would do just about anything you asked of him, and he knew it was because deep inside he loved you too.

The word kid had slipped out, but it was meant to be viewed as a harmless pet name. If he knew just how upset it would have made you he never would have used it, and it haunted him every single day you ignored him. He wanted to make things right, but that would only be possible if you gave him the chance.

And right now, it didn’t seem like that was going to happen anytime soon.

~~~

Your eyes are laser focused on the building before you as you nestle into the high branches of a tree and ignore the biting cold from the snowfall. Bucky is perched beside you, gaze constantly shifting as he scans the area for any potential threats to your safety. You’ve been at this for about an hour as you meticulously scan each floor in search of any weapons as well as intel regarding how many people occupy the building. Your eyes are starting to burn from the amount of strain your powers put on them, something Bucky picks up on as he places a hand on your shoulder to get your attention.

“I think you should take a break,” he prompts with worry clear on his features. Though a part of you agrees, you’re too stubborn to relent to his suggestion. This mission is your chance to prove to him that you’re not just some kid he has to babysit; you are just as capable as anyone else, and you want him to see you not as a mentee but as an equal.

“I’m fine,” you insist indignantly before returning your gaze to the weapons base, “you’re breaking my concentration.”

“Y/n, if you put too much pressure on your eyes you’re going to have a crushing migraine for weeks and Steve will have no choice but to bench you from missions,” he reminds you, and though Bucky is only trying to be helpful you feel as if you’re being reprimanded like some child.

“Are you not listening to me? I’m fine,” you grit through clenched teeth. The pressure is getting to you, and this conversation certainly isn’t helping.

“Look, just stop to use the eyedrops Dr. Banner gave you and then-“

“Oh my god, would you stop?! You’re not my babysitter, Bucky!” You finally cry out in exasperation.

“Hey!” A third voice interjects before Bucky can respond, prompting both of you to turn your heads just in time to see a man below raising his gun in your direction. You’d both been so engrossed in your debacle to notice a guard had been sent to search the area, and your little outburst had just given away your hiding spot.

Your head is pounding from the overexertion of your powers, and you’re barely able to register Bucky yelling at you to duck. The man begins to shoot before Bucky can draw his gun, and you’re not quick enough to duck out of the way when a bullet comes in your direction. It shoots straight through your shoulder blade, the force strong enough to hinder your balance and throw you off of the tree branch.

“Y/n!” Bucky cries out, eyes wide as he shoots a hand out for you. He’s barely able to graze your fingertips before you go falling straight to the ground with a strangled cry. The last thing you see is his horrified face before you hit the floor with a defeaning thud.

Everything goes dark after that.

~~~

The lights of the infirmary are blinding as you will yourself to peel your eyes open with a groan. A dull throbbing fills your head as you lift your hand to shield your eyes and attempt to sit up only to be gently pushed back down onto the bed.

“Easy there, slugger,” a voice reprimands teasingly, “Bruce says you shouldn’t be making any sudden movements for the next few days. You didn’t break anything, but you’re bruised up pretty bad and need to be on a five day medication regimen to keep the migraines at bay, and that’s not even mentioning the bullet hole in your shoulder.”

“Natasha?” you murmur hoarsely, barely making out her figure through squinted eyes. Your mind is reeling as you try to recall the events of your mission, and your stomach drops as you recall that you hadn’t been alone when you’d been ambushed. “Where’s Bucky?!”

You try to sit up again only for her to push you back down with one hand while the other uses the control pad to dim the lights in the room. You’re grateful for the pressure it alleviates, but your racing heart does nothing to help your anxious state.

“Bucky is fine,” she reassures you, “he left to get you some water, but he’s been in this room all day since you both got back.”

“What happened? I-I remember arguing with him, getting caught, falling out of a tree…”

“You hit a couple branches on the way down which is why you’re all banged up, but luckily the snow helped break your fall and prevented any further damage. Barnes was able to get you both out of there unscathed, and thankfully Bruce was able to remove the bullet out of your shoulder with minimal scarring. But… I have to say, I’ve never seen Bucky look so worried before.”

“God,” you whine in embarrassment, palms pressing into your eyes as you hold your face in your hands. “It’s like I’m incapable of not making a fool of myself every time we’re alone together.”

“Look, just stop dragging your feet and face the issue head on. You two need to work this out,” Natasha reiterates, her eyes subtly shifting to the man that enters the infirmary with a bottle of water in his hands. “The sooner the better.”

Bucky looks like a dog caught with its tail between his legs as he approaches your bedside, swallowing nervously as Natasha moves past him with a “good luck” leaving her lips as she exits the room and allows you both some privacy. You take the bottle from him with trembling hands and a quiet thank you before finally willing yourself to look at him.

“I’m sorry… this whole mess is my fault,” you murmur remorsefully, fingers fidgeting with the paper label on the bottle, "if I had just kept my mouth shut that night-“

“I’m glad you said it.”

“What?” You breathe out in surprise, unsure if you heard him correctly or if it was just your migraine skewing your perception of reality. Bucky swallows nervously before seating himself beside your bed, a bashful smile playing at his lips as he meets your gaze.

“Look, I know I reacted horribly in the moment, but it was only because I thought you were too drunk to mean it,” he confesses almost shamefully, a flash of guilt present in his features. “It’s hard to believe a woman as wonderful as you would want a tired old man like me, and I assumed it was a spur of the moment thing. But I have cared for you the moment Steve introduced you to us as a new member of the team, and I don’t go out of my way to protect you because I think you’re some incapable kid who needs my help. It’s because… well, it’s because I love you too. And I’m sorry it took me this long to say it.”

Your lips are parted in shock as you process Bucky’s words, your mind racing to catch up as you realize the man you’ve pined for so long is now confessing his love for you. A part of you is scared that this is some sort of concussion dream and that you’ll wake up to find it wasn’t real. But the feel of his hand carefully cupping your cheek says otherwise, and you nearly melt into his touch at the feeling.

“You love me?” You repeat again in quiet astonishment. Bucky lets out a small chuckle in response.

“Of course I do, sweetheart,” he reassures you with an adoring smile, “it killed me to be away from you for so long, and I hate that it took us being shot at for me to finally tell you that.”

“I guess we just operate better on chaos,” you weakly joke, smiling when it earns you another laugh out of Bucky.

“It certainly is our specialty,” he agrees with wry grin. Then, tone more serious now as he moves to take one of your hands in his own, he says, “I love you, y/n, and I’d be honored if you would give me the chance to take you out somewhere nice to makeup for this whole mess I put us through.”

With a soft smile, you give his hand a gentle squeeze and answer, “I’d love nothing more.”

And then, in the privacy of the quiet infirmary, Bucky leans in and steals the first of many kisses from you.

| tags: @cjand10 @wamefou @g1g1l @yes-ilovetowrite @greatenthusiasttidalwave @shanksstrawhat @vicmc624 |

[the-bloody-ruby]

Yan!Baldwin IV X Reincarnation!Reader

✎Summary✐ you got reincarnated as Baldwin's wife.

⚠Warnings⚠ historically inaccurate mentions of death, guy of lusignan, racism?(I don't if it counts as racism btw it has nothing to do with skin color).

✎Note✐ reader is a female in this. Author hates this but decided to post it anyway. This is not the actual historical figure but the figure from KoH movie.

✎Tags✐ @jsprien213

✎Part 2✐

➹➷➹➷➹➷➹➷➹➷➹➷➹➷➹➷➹➷➹➷➹

You don't understand how it happened.

How did you end up in Jerusalem?. It's Not our modern day Jerusalem, it's 1181 AD.

From what you understood, you are during the anjou household reign of Jerusalem, most likely during king Baldwin IV time due to Saladin's name being mentioned so it must be around that time. But that's just a guess, if it is true then The king must be about 19 at this point.

When you first opened your eyes you found yourself laying on an a soft mattress, According to who they seemed to be maids, you had fainted while walking through the garden. You do have some blur memories of walking through a grand garden even though you know for sure that you did not walk through such garden ever in your life.

the last thing you remember, that you know that you actually did, that you went to sleep on your bed in your home, that's it. You didn't die while sleeping, did you?.

maybe you somehow took someone's else life, a someone from history none the less. It may sound bazaar but it's the only logical explanation in this unlogical situation.

While you were dozing off, trying to think of a solution to this disaster, The door was pushed wide open. a woman with fine clothing and jewelry enters with servants following her in. "I see you have finally decided to wake up." Her tone was sharp so was her glare.

You stared back at her, not with the same coldness but with confusion. "Who are you..?" You do know that she has to be a noble due to her clothing, but which noble? And why did she visit you? Why is her tone was as if you two know each other?.

She scoffed "It seems like the maids were right, It seems like you actually went mad this time." 'This bitch-' you thought to yourself, you can only say such things in your mind because you don't want to insult someone who might has the power to execute you on the spot. "Who are you?." You ask again, this time with determination.

"Sibylla of Jerusalem." You face went pale, you thought knowing her identify would make you understand the situation better but it only confused you more, why would she visit you?.

You look away, you feel like you're gonna faint again. "Tsk.. Pathetic.." She mumbles as you grip on the bedsheets, she grabs your chin and makes you look directly to blue eyes. "Hold yourself better, you are no common girl, remember that you are queen of Jerusalem, wife to my brother, you are y/n of Jerusalem.. Even if I don't deem you worth of such honour yet here we are.."

You are not sure if she wanted to scold you or mock you, either way her words hurt you even though you don't know why, it just stungs.

"We're having dinner this evening, you should be fine by then." She stated as she turned her to leave. you wanted to protest, you are in no condition to join a stupid dinner. "But-" "absence is unacceptable." she cuts you, she doesn't even bother to turn around to look at you yet her words held a warning in them. With that she finally left you alone.

Now you know whose life you are in, yes life not body because you are 100% sure that this is your own body, whatever. In history her name was forgotten so she's only known as Baldwin's IV wife or the Saracen queen.

Basically Baldwin and her got married to secure an alliance between Jerusalem and some Saracens, and to prevent Saladin from getting anymore power since your people are also in odds with Saladin.

You pity her.

No one cared about her, she was just a tool for her family to gain more power, Jerusalem's court despited her because she is still a filthy Saracen in their eyes and not to mention that king Baldwin IV, her own husband did not spare her a single glance during the entire of their marriage. It's not personal, it's just she's the least of his concerns.

In the end of the day she was executed because she attempted to poison to Sibylla but failed, it is unclear whatever she was truly guilty or framed.

No.. No. You won't die like this.. You won't live like this! You don't want to die with sorrow and tears!.

You won't allow history to repeat itself, you don't care if it's gonna change tomorrow's history or not, you value your happiness more than history that you might not live to see.

If you want a peaceful life, you have two potions.

you earn the King's favor and then you will live peaceful as the queen.

Which you are mostly to take, run away after securing a good amount of money.

Just in case, you're gonna try to secure both plans. You will try to earns his favor while earning enough money to escape.

➹➷➹➷➹➷➹➷➹➷➹➷➹➷➹➷➹➷➹➷➹

Evening came fast.

You didn't want to leave bed but you also didn't want to piss off sibylla so it sucks to suck. Even though you still don't understand, how can she threaten you?! I mean yes she is a princess but you are the queen here for God's sake!. Damn was the old owner this weak that no one respected her title as queen?, however this will change, You didn't die to live again to take bullshit again.

The maids may not be fond of you but they sure did well in dressing you up, you don't like you're about to throw up at any given moment at all But the hard part isn't not looking like you're about to throw up, the hard part is not actually throwing up in front of everyone.

"Come on y/n!." You cheer up on yourself in front of mirror, you were right about the body thing, it is your body. you look like you, not like the actual historical figure (even though there is no surviving portraits of her but okay). 'I'm happy that i didn't lose you, my sweet sexy asf face' you wink at yourself before someone's voice interpreted your flirting session with yourself. "What are you doing?." God.. Why can't they leave you the fuck alone?. First Sibylla, now this?.

"wHaT aRe YoU dOiNg?." You repeat mockingly before turning around only to see Baldwin IV in flesh and blood standing in front of you, you recognized him easily due to the mask. Your face went paler then it went with sibylla, why is God doing this to you? You are praying for the ground to open in half and sallow you.

His blue eyes just stared into yours, it felt like he is staring right through your soul. "..." He didn't mutter a word, You don't know what he is thinking but whatever it is, it doesn't seems like something you want to know about.

You wanted to cry, really. But not in front of him because it would only worsen the situation, after all you just mocked a king.

"..."

It's been quite the few minutes, he didn't say anything yet. 'You know what? I already ate shit so let's just walk away and pretend that nothing has happened.. Maybe he will just ignore it and then I'll get to keep my head..' You thought to yourself.

You proceeded your plan and it actually worked! He let you walk away although you felt his eyes still watching you like a hawk.

Dinner was as awkward as you'd expect. You tried your best to just focus on your platte and ignore everyone else on the table. "Are you alright?." It's Sibylla, even though her words seems out of concern, her voice holds no kindness to it.

You looked up from your plate, you stare back at her but this time with more confidence since the last time you two spoke. "Yes, I am fine." You replied to her question with a calm yet confident note.

That caused sybilla to stare at you. You have never acted like this before, you were always quiet and shy, never once you looked right into her eyes with such directness.

"I heard that you fainted in the gardens today. you should look out for your health more your Highness... It would be a shame if you become so sickly like someone we know.." Said the man who is seated next to Sibylla, who you assume is guy of lusignan.

At his words Baldwin looked up at him, that caused guy to shift uncomfortably in his seat, he hated everything about Baldwin, especially his blue eyes when they stared right through his soul.

'God.. It's so awkward...' You thought before deciding to gamble with fate again. "Your majesty.. Your food will get cold.. Please eat." You hold his gloved hands in yours as you tried to give the kindest smile you could manage. He moved his eyes from guy's to yours before he pulled his hands away and continued his meal.

That went as smooth as possible.. You could feel Sibylla's glare but you couldn't care less, what matters now is to earn Baldwin's favor.

➹➷➹➷➹➷➹➷➹➷➹➷➹➷➹➷➹➷➹➷➹

Im back from the dead 💪🏻.

Idk if you guys will like this but enjoy and if you got any notes for me then go ahead 💃🏻.

[twistedwonderlandimaginesblog]

Mc accidently got splashed with a (obsessive) "love potion" and she falls in giddy love with first person she lays her eyes on.

All she wants to do is give them kisses and hugs...and yea she also is clingy and she follows them around even duuring class. She is ready to do anything for her "love" ( like whatever they ask of her) she wants them to be happy . She is convinced that they are dating and it's honestly pointless to try and explain things to her.

How would Azul, Jamil, Malleus, Duece and Floyd hanndle the situation/what's their reaction? ( they were not dating before ) 

Azul Ashengrotto:

Azul was doomed by yet another situation he couldn’t see himself out of. He hardly knows how to handle you normally, or rather how to handle his feelings for you, but you’re much harder when you’re like this. Having you clinging to his side and demanding his attention made it impossible for him to concentrate, and feelings be damned he wasn’t going to let his business suffer. Since Jade and Floyd refused to escort you from his office (finding Azul’s flustered face and inability to actually push you away the best comedy bit they’d seen in years) he ordered them to instead find a cure for the nightmarish love potion that ailed you. They do agree but take longer than they need to, wanting Azul to endure his torturous thoughts a bit longer.

Deuce Spade:

You have poor Deuce stressed OUT. He’s too worried about your well-being to hear any of Ace’s teasing, also focused on keeping his lips covered in case of another surprise attack. He wouldn’t mind under normal circumstances but this doesn’t feel genuine (and he had a much more romantic first kiss in mind for the two of you). He boldly confided in his seniors about you in hopes of them helping with a solution, tightly holding your hand to keep you at bay. He’s willing to go to any length to cure you, even if he’d miss the closeness.

Floyd Leech:

Floyd is willing to milk this situation for all that it’s worth. He particularly enjoyed the squeezing contest you had, and how tightly you clung to him even after he clearly won. He would have loved to keep you all to himself, using your condition to get out of working at Mostro Lounge as it would be hard to cook with you attached to him like you were. Jade is surprised with how long Floyd indulged your clingy behavior, even when he seemed fed up, he knew if he really wanted to push you away and lock you up so you’d leave him alone, he would do it.

Jamil Viper:

Jamil would have used you for all you were worth if he didn’t have feelings for you. He’s frustrated that yet another responsibility was thrust upon him, but turning his back on you was not a choice under these circumstances. It makes it hard to go about his day when he has two different people bothering him all day, but you proved to be the bigger challenge (for now). If he could concentrate he’d have an easier time of finding a solution but there was a part of him that longed for you to continue to worship him, curious how much of this might mirror your relationship if you ended up dating.

Malleus Draconia:

You had always been more honest with Malleus than others, but this was certainly new. As much as he enjoyed your emboldened behavior it didn’t take him long to detect something was off, leaving him conflicted. He wouldn’t mind having a close relationship like this with you, maybe some more boundaries discussed for the sake of Sebek’s heart and everyone else's eardrums, but he was disappointed to know this wasn’t you acting on ‘real’ feelings. He’s even more suspicious about how and why you were splashed with such a potion to begin with, growing rather possessive at the concept of someone trying to steal your heart away from him.

[sailingintothenight]

“A safe heaven.” Bob Reynolds Imagine.

Summary: Little Bob was led to believe heaven didn't exist, but now, with you, he knows it's real.

A/N: Hii. This is my first imagine about Bob. My page used to be about Tom Holland and Peter Parker but I haven't written about them in a while for personal reasons. I wasn't sure whether to keep using this account or create a new one, but I'll wait to see how my failed attempt to write about this little ray of light called Bob goes. I've been following Lewis' work for a while, but I saw him in the Marvel universe and his character is so adorable–almost everyone fell in love with him, I'm sure hehe–so I hope you like this. Thank you so much!

Warnings: just fluff.

“Can we… uh… sleep together again tonight, (Y/N)? Please?”

When the night swallowed the sun and New York City shone with artificial lights, as fictitious as his courage (still small, like a baby plant) to face those hours alone in the darkness of his room, Bob would appear in the tower's living room or kitchen, ready to sleep but waiting for you two to be alone or just with Yelena present, almost buried in clothes that were a size or two too big for him (considering he was quite large), on his gray sweatpants, and his nervous hands tucked into the sleeves of his blue sweatshirt with the letters I ♡ Los Angeles printed on it.

His timid request would be lost in the noise of life that followed its course outside the place, his voice loud enough only for you to hear it. That nocturnal dynamic between you two started innocently and stayed that way after one night when your mind expanded in your sleep and sank beyond the walls, capturing his nightmares as yours, feeling the violent beat of his heart inside your own, visualizing his expression behind your closed eyelids, and the pain and confusion when he woke up not knowing where he was.

And somehow, you found a way for him to see your fear of a lonely room, speaking to him in your warm voice, and Bob, who always tried to do good despite doubting his own goodness all the time, suggested timidly that maybe sleeping with someone else would be a temporary solution until you two find a permanent one. It was supposed to be a matter of one or two nights together, a week maybe, (so Bob would find peace in sleeping, without feeling the terror of his past materializing in his dreams if he woke up, realizing he wasn't alone anymore) but then he started asking you that question, day after day.

You always said yes, and Bob would smile to himself before walking away first.

"You adopted a puppy and didn't tell me." Yelena chuckles that night, sitting in one of the high chairs around the granite table as she finishes her dinner, speaking softly so as not to disturb the peace that was beginning to build in the place, between different people who sometimes coexisted amidst so much chaos. "Bob is in love with you, you know? that's why he follows you around like he's a stray dog ​​and you his home."

You laugh softly.

"I can be your home too, my love."

Yelena grimaces in disgust, as if an unpleasant smell has reached her nose.

"Don't make me throw up my dinner."

"Hey, I made that dinner."

“And that’s why I love you.” She smiles, pretending to be cute as she wrinkles her nose, a failed plan because she is cute, with her beautiful face and her daily attempt to put the past behind her. “I mean, you are perfect, baby, with your amazing cooking skills, your cute little face, and the way you threaten to blow Walker’s head off when he starts acting like a jerk. It’s so funny he still hasn’t figured out why he gets migraines. So I understand why Bob likes you so much.”

Perfect, because that’s how they intended you to be, giving you powers that you didn't ask for. They made a weapon out of you, discovered in the middle of nowhere and without instructions, one that destroyed an entire complex.

When you close the door to your room, the warmth expands and stays there like a golden light, always present whenever you are present. Or at least that's how Bob sees you, with his blue eyes that once again had the brilliance of a star and always tried to hold your gaze, with you comparing the color to a new kind of ocean, safe and peaceful.

Like a force of nature, but one created in a laboratory, you arrived to destroy the little peace Bob had managed to find in his solitude, shaking his world with your magnetic presence. But Bob also loved the way your deep gaze could rest when life became routine, that little white dot that shone in the corner of your pupil disappearing when there was no threat, turning you almost into an angel when he saw the tenderness in your dreamy eyes when things looked a little better.

Now, sitting against the headboard of your bed, one leg tucked under the other, Bob shows you the book in his hand, a nervous smile on his lips.

Pride & prejudice.

"I finished it."

“At an alarming rate.” You chuckle as you sit on your side of the bed: and Bob, who liked to stop and look at the flowers in the park near the tower, pet the cats in the front yards of the houses and read poetry, smiles with the compliment. “How long did it take you?”

“About 9 hours.”

“I’m impressed, Bob.” You smile proudly, and Bob will be able to see that sweet image of you clearly in his mind for the rest of his life, even when his head becomes foggy.

Then, a thought that was meant to stay inside, finds its way out from between the cracks of his own shyness.

“You smile pretty.” With him near to your lamp on the nightstand, the amber light makes his hair and messy locks shine, especially when his sweet smile disappears from his lips and Bob lowers his head for a moment, revealing the profile of his defined face and a glimpse of his flushed cheek. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Only one of your fingers makes contact with his chin, pushing it upward as soft as a feather, but with enough determination for him to meet your smile and hold it, though his gaze falters, nervous, but always warm and sincere. “We can watch the movie tomorrow if you want.”

“Is there a movie too?”

His eyes widen slightly, eyebrows rising.

“There are several, actually.”

His surprise doesn’t seem to fit in his expression, and it’s adorable and amusing until you both lie down under the thick blanket.

It doesn't take long for Bob to fall asleep after a long day (too tired from always overthinking about everything) lying on his left side, burying half his face in the pillow that smells like you, making him feel as if you were a memory from his childhood that he knows never happened, but one that he does want to remember and not erase from his fragmented mind.

However, there's a moment that breaks the peacefulness of his night with the noise from the other side of the big glass window, in a world rebuilding itself after the horrors experienced by his darkest side.

You're lying on another pillow, half sitting, back against the headboard of the bed with the same book in your hands, now looking at him. There, with no intention of overstepping his boundaries, your own fingers, the ones you once raised so that an entire building would crack and collapse, slide across his forehead, softly pushing back that brown lock of hair that frames one side of his lovely face—but you can see, you can feel, that this dream is less terrifying, less painful.

"Bob…"

Like a whisper that finds every dark corner of his mind, disappearing every shadow of that future nightmare forming in his head, your soft voice makes Bob wake up with a slight, barely audible gasp. He opens his eyes, looking lost just for a second, but he instantly recognizes where he is, the lavender scent of the place caressing his heart until it calms his confusion.

His gaze searches yours, head still on the pillow.

“I’m sorry. I dreamed 'bout that chicken costume again.”

You chuckle softly, a warm sound like that ray of sunshine on his skin during his time in Los Angeles. Bob looks like a tiny caterpillar in the safety of his little house—or that’s what your mom used to say about you—when he pulls the blanket closer to him, his body making a slight movement to scoot closer to you.

“Don’t worry, Bob, we can do this until you feel better.”

“Thanks, (Y/N). You are so nice.” But when reason stumbles for a moment, Bob finds the strength to speak, in a whisper so as not to clash with the peaceful surroundings, closing his eyes because there with you, the darkness behind his closed eyelids isn’t an endless pit trying to swallow him up. “Can we do this forever?”

Your hand strokes one side of his hair, and a soft smile appears on his lips.

You can almost see the iron blows from his father's fists that sank into his body, that played cruel tricks on his mind until that little brown–haired, blue–eyed angel had his tiny wings ripped off and was convinced that heaven never existed.

But now, for Bob, it is real. At least with you, it is.

“Sounds perfect to me.”

[adverbally]

In a Deep Sea of Blankets

Written for the @steddiebingo prompt “company” and inspired by the @stmarchmm prompt “nests” | wc: 1,965 | rated: T | cw: none | tags: Steddie, Alpha Eddie, Omega Steve, Dustin Henderson, alpha/beta/omega dynamics, hurt/comfort, trauma and alpha drop recovery, found family, domestic fluff, scenting, cuddles galore

This was inspired by @alwaysurvalentine’s tags on As You Fall All Around, requesting lots of cuddles and a dog pile with Dustin.

———

The drive from Reefer Rick’s place to Steve’s house seems to take forever, mostly because it’s hard for Steve to actually operate a vehicle with Eddie clinging to him. With Robin crammed in the back with the pups, they have the front seat to themselves with plenty of room for Eddie to curl up beside Steve, his nose tucked securely against Steve’s scent gland.

The Alpha is quiet in the aftermath of his drop. It’s like the events of the past twenty-four hours have hit him all at once and Eddie doesn’t have the energy to do anything but breathe in his Omega’s soothing cinnamon-sugar scent. It’s a comfort to Steve, too, having his Alpha so close— the steady rhythm of Eddie’s exhales against his skin, the firm embrace of Eddie’s arms around his waist, the press of their bodies warm even through their clothes.

They stay close while Steve herds everyone into the house, holding Eddie’s hand as he guides him upstairs, down the hallway, through Steve’s bedroom and into the en suite. It’s an awkward journey; Eddie is capable of walking, just not particularly interested in doing so if it requires him to lift his head away from Steve’s neck and look where he’s going.

Steve can be patient. It’s easy when he remembers Eddie shaking and whimpering in the throes of his drop, remembers that he would do anything for his Alpha to never have to feel that way again.

He turns on the shower and strips away Eddie’s clothes. Excavating layers of leather and cotton, peeling away the lingering dirt and sour sweat clinging to the fabric, it’s a relief to scent Eddie beneath it all. His smell isn’t fully back to normal, more of a smoldering log than a roaring campfire, but it’s lost the sickly edge of distress.

“You gonna join me?” Eddie rasps.

Steve almost cracks a joke, but there’s still something raw in the way Eddie is watching him— a little uncertain, almost embarrassed— that stops him. “Of course,” he says instead, already undoing the fly of his jeans.

It’s one of the more efficient showers they’ve shared, more focused on actually getting Eddie clean than on enjoying each other’s wet and soapy bodies. Steve might prefer this, if he’s honest: Eddie relaxing under Steve’s hands as he messages shampoo into his scalp, his burnt wood smell blooming beneath unscented soap. It taps into Steve’s lifelong craving for domesticity. After so much time spent alone in an empty, echoing house, it soothes him to have someone else sharing his space and letting him care for them.

Somehow, Steve resists the urge to kiss him until they’re dried off. Eddie is stepping into a pair of boxers fresh from Steve’s drawer, hair dripping despite the towel wrapped around his shoulders, and Steve just has to grab the edges of the towel and pull him in until their lips meet.

“What was that for?” Eddie asks when he pulls away.

“Just because.” He’s not sure he wants to explain why the mere sight of Eddie in his house does it for him, if he could even articulate it. Instead, he presses another kiss to Eddie’s lips, then his cheek and his temple, and finishes with a final peck on the lips when Eddie leans into the touch. It almost hurts how tender Eddie can make him feel; how much he makes Steve want to bundle up Eddie in his clothes, keep him safe and warm in his nest and never let him leave.

Maybe that’s not a feasible solution in the long term, but he can have it for now.

He gently steers Eddie in the direction of his bed, wet hair and all, with a minor detour to his dresser for some clean clothes for both of them. Then they crawl under the blankets of Steve’s bed, which already smell like them, and Eddie curls up with his head on Steve’s chest, and Steve feels like he can breathe again for the first time since he entered the boat house.

Eddie feels the same, if his long, satisfied sigh is anything to go by. He burrows more firmly into the familiar contours of Steve’s body, easily fitting them together even while half-asleep. Steve’s hands comb through Eddie’s hair in a steady rhythm that matches Eddie’s breaths as they get deeper and slower.

Steve’s eyes grow heavy, too, weighed down by the warmth of his Alpha in his nest and the comfort of his woodsy scent mixing with Steve’s own spicy sweetness. As it always does when Eddie is around, something settles in Steve’s chest. It’s like a puzzle piece snapping into place, a key fitting neatly into a lock, overflowing the spaces within Steve that he thought were too deep to ever be filled.

He doesn’t let himself fully fall asleep, just drifts in the calm space where he’s just barely aware of his surroundings. His Alpha is there and they’re cozy and safe, and that’s all that matters. If it were up to Steve, they would stay like this forever. No Upside Down, no murders, no hiding, just holding each other until they both rotted away.

All thoughts of peace rush from his mind like the tide when he hears a knock on his bedroom door.

“Steve?” The gentle lisp is clearly Dustin’s but he sounds quieter and more unsure than Steve has ever heard him.

“Come in,” Steve tells him, strained as he tries to project his voice across the room without disturbing Eddie.

Dustin’s head peeks around the edge of the door to make sure the older boys are decent. He must be satisfied with what he sees, since he doesn’t hesitate to enter and shut the door behind him. “He’s asleep?” he asks, tilting his head in Eddie’s direction.

Eddie hums in denial, though it’s not coherent enough to make much of an argument.

“Mostly,” Steve confirms. “He dropped pretty hard.”

“But he’s okay now?” Dustin presses. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other— uneasy, guilty.

It makes Steve’s chest ache. Eddie may be his Alpha, but Dustin has been part of his pack for years. His instincts itch to comfort the pup and pull him into the nest where Steve and Eddie can both look after him. “C’mere.” Steve holds out the edge of the blanket closest to Dustin, gesturing for him to come join their cuddling.

“Are you sure?” he hesitates.

“Eddie won’t mind. He’ll barely notice you’re here.”

Dustin toes out of his sneakers and slips into the nest on Steve’s other side. He smells warm and vaguely sweet in the way Steve associates with all of his pups, complementing his and Eddie’s scents in a way that just feels right.

Dustin seems to agree, considering how easily he snuggles against Steve. He mirrors Eddie’s position so both heads of messy curls rise and fall against Steve’s chest with each breath he takes. The resemblance is so striking that Steve can almost pretend that Dustin is really their pup, just for a second– a smaller Dustin, with that same glorious hair and Eddie’s curiosity and Steve’s attitude, could easily be mistaken for their biological child. God, Steve wishes.

It must bleed into Steve’s scent, that hint of wistfulness that almost tips into melancholy. Dustin whines into Steve’s chest when his cinnamon-sweetness goes a little sour.

“Hey, no.” Steve wraps his free arm around Dustin’s back, rubbing soothing circles through his shirt. “We’re okay, bud, it’s okay.”

“Are you mad at me?”

It’s so abrupt that it takes Steve’s breath away, like a punch to the gut. “What? No, why would I–?”

“I shouldn’t have reacted like that when you called Eddie ‘Alpha.’ That’s probably why you didn’t tell us, huh?” It comes out muffled with how close he’s pressing himself against Steve’s side. “You knew I would be a little shit about it.”

Steve hugs him tighter. “You’re always a little shit. It’s kind of your thing,” he says teasingly, trying to lighten the mood. “But that’s what we love about you.”

“I just wish you didn’t feel like you had to hide it, you know?”

And that’s a whole other can of worms that Steve doesn’t think he can open tonight. He and Eddie would mostly be accepted as an Omega and Alpha couple, even in a town as small as Hawkins, but… He can’t help but remember how his father had reacted when he presented, how he’d introduced Steve to so many Alpha daughters of his coworkers over the years since. There were expectations, still, even if they went unvoiced, and there would be consequences if Steve couldn’t meet them.

He tries to explain without explaining, “We weren’t hiding it from you. We just wanted to keep it to ourselves for a while, just the two of us.” It’s not a lie.

“And he makes you happy?”

“Yeah.” Steve can’t suppress his smile, not that he would want to. ‘Happy’ feels like too small a word for everything Eddie makes him feel. Steve wants everyone to know how much he loves him, what a good Alpha he is, all the little things he does to make Steve feel safe and cared for. Despite their superficial differences, they understand each other in a way nobody else ever has. “Yeah, he does. I hope I make him happy, too.”

Dustin nods to himself. For a long moment, he’s quiet enough that Steve thinks he might have fallen asleep until he admits, “I was scared. For both of you.”

Steve blinks against the memory of Eddie, broken bottle in his hand, half-feral and snarling at one of their pups, smelling wrong and trembling in Steve’s arms. “Yeah. I was, too.”

“Me, too.” Eddie makes both of them jump when his hand settles on Dustin’s shoulder, brushing across Steve’s belly on the way.

“Jesus.” Steve tries to stifle his smile but it’s hard when Dustin is giggling into his armpit and Eddie is patting them both, clumsy with drowsiness. “Go back to sleep, you idiot.”

“Nooo,” he whines. “Two of my favorite people are here, and I don’t wa–” A massive yawn cuts him off mid-word. “Don’t wanna miss out on the action.”

They’ve all had more than enough action for one day, Steve thinks, but he gets Eddie’s desire to be a part of everything. It’s one of the things he loves about him. “I promise we’re not doing anything fun. Just rest, sweetheart.” He rubs his chin over the top of Eddie’s head, comforting and scent-marking him all at once.

“You’re gonna stay here, right?” Eddie sounds nervous and embarrassed about it.

This is why Steve never wanted to tell him about the Upside Down. He didn’t want Eddie to know that fear, the kind that makes darkness darker and silence louder and keeps you awake even while it drains you of any energy you had left. Now Eddie not only knows about it but has seen it, and there’s nothing Steve can do to fix it.

Before Steve can respond, Dustin snorts. “It’s his house, dipshit. Where else would he go?”

Part of Steve wants to be horrified but a much bigger part is relieved when Eddie starts to laugh. His punch-drunk giggles are so normal, like this is just another sleepover with the two of them huddled under Steve’s blankets, enjoying each other’s company too much to go to sleep.

“I’ll be here,” Steve reassures him anyway. “But feel free to kick Dustin out whenever you get sick of him.”

Dustin squawks, affronted, and Eddie laughs even harder and tucks his nose against Steve’s scent gland. Steve, feeling warm inside and out, pulls them both a little closer and lets their presence lull him to sleep.

[howlingmod]

chance x healer reader fed up with his bullshit.. they beg for him to stop gambling and he's just "no just watch chance never loses" and then dies because their gun explodes with weakness C and they don't even care that the killer is ripping them apart they're just glaring at his body chance is the most annoying guything on EARTH and reader just puts up with his bullshit because they love him (they're going to kill him if they get unforsakened) "hey hun, so my gun MAYYY have exploded can i be healed please-" "i JUST healed you the fuck you MEAN you're bleeding out"

summary - chance x healer!reader

misc - reader has the staff of healing which is said to get power from the greek god of medicine so That's why there's mentions of praying . smile. also more pining than anything sorryyy

-Where Elliot and Dusekkar freely gave out heals, you were far more strategic with yours. It wasn't because you were heartless or didn't hear the pleas of your teammates, but with how long it took to build enough energy and use your staff, you couldn't afford to make the wrong choice. You could save someone's life last second where the others would have to hope the victim could power through.

-This didn't stop people from asking though. Usually, they were pretty understanding. Similarly to Dusekkar, using your staff required a significant amount of your own energy, energy that was better suited as a last-resort. Usually, they'd ask, understand when you declined, and then stick qround you for protection until you could find Elliot or Builderman.

-Chance was different though. He hadn't made much of an impression on you at the cabin that first time, maybe a little proud but you didn't hear enough to feel you could judge him yet. So, your very first impression of him would come when he bothered you for healing.

"Hey, you mind giving me a hand?" He smiled despite his words slipping through grit teeth. He was clutching his side, blood spilling over his hand and soaking the fabric. You heard him shamble all the way here, only waiting to ensure it was a survivor.

You'd only looked him over for a second longer before you'd nodded. He was in critical enough condition you could consider this a safe solution. Everyone had been doing well thus far and there were only a few more generators to repair.

"Stand still."

He barely had enough time to right himself, stumbling when he shot straight up, before you got to work. Instinctively, he closed his eyes, sinking into the comforting feeling washing over him. It was somewhere between warm and cold, simultaneously the cool relief of dipping into the ocean on a hot day and the burning embrace of a fire in the cold winter months. It was over too soon for him to come to a conclusion.

"You should be better now. Come see me if your wounds should start to reappear," you ordered bluntly, leaving no room for argument. You'd turned on your heel, making your way out of the delapitated building you'd hid away in.

For a few moments, he stared at your back as you left, watching you shrink into the distance. He spared a look at his side, seeing how the skin had come back together as if nothing had ever marred it in the first place. Then he looked back at you.

"Hey, wait up!"

You looked over your shoulder, finding the gambler chasing after you.

"Two's better than one, right? I'd say we've got better odds sticking together," he grinned at you, half out of breath. You only stared back, sparing him a small hum of acknowledgement, before you continued walking, him now matching your pace.

-It was a sweet enough encounter, if it weren't for all the repeats after the fact. You'd began to wonder if your staff had some sort strange psychological effects you'd never noticed before, because every time you'd heal him it seemed he made a time to show off his aim.

-You'd heal him and then shortly thereafter, he'd try and stun the killer from half a mile away as they chased someone else, and then A) he'd miss and draw the ire of the killer, B) his gun would jam, C) he would hit the target, of D) it would explode and require healing.

-It was D more often than you thought possible. The first few times you'd bit your tongue and healed him anyway, it was a dire situation and it could save his life if the killer came for the noise, but that only lasted a few times.

-Chance had taken to sticking to your side whenever you went out. You hadn't minded that much, he was fine enough company and you figured it was safer to be around someone than to be alone. It was more the chaos he brought with him that was the issue.

-He tried to tone it down after you first denied healing. His gun had worked this time but he still missed, leading the killer to tunnel in on him (and by extension you) until you two could eventually shake them off your tail. You'd been lucky enough to remain unharmed, the killer was significantly more focused on punishing Chance than you, but that didn't remove the severity of the situation.

Chance was slumped against the wall, hands clutched over his sides. He panted but refused to say anything, mouth dry with guilt. You had yet to say anything either, sitting and catching your own breath. Another hard pang of pain ripped through him and he hissed, clenching his jaw.

"Do you ... y'think you could-"

"No. I healed you earlier, you shouldn't have gotten into that situation."

He nodded stiffly, all the courge he'd used to ask leaving him.

"I'll go look for a medkit, but that's all I offer."

He nodded again, just a twitch of the head this time.

He watched you slip out the doorway and disappear, holding his breath until your footsteps vanished. Guilt ate away at his stomach with even more vigor, he could have gotten you both killed. It was lucky that they'd only gotten him, he isn't sure he could forgive himself if you got caught in the crossfire. He was being stupid, getting your attention in all the wrong ways.

-From then on, he was a little smarter about the way he acted. He wouldn't shoot the killer until he was closer, more involved, where the stun would actually matter. He'd try and keep an eye out for medkits, keeping one for himself whenever he did come across them. He helped with generators more. He tried to watch out for the killer when you were busy.

-It was a little desperate on his part, maybe a little overly sweet, but he really just wanted to make it up to you. He didn't want you to dislike him just because of a crazy misplay. He needed to get into your good graces somehow, and if that meant he had to bust his ass being cartoonishly helpful, he'd do it, no matter how embarassing.

-Even at the cabin, he'd gotten sweeter on you. He'd sit next to you at dinner, he'd go on and on with stories about his life before coming here to you, both good and bad (though you sensed even in the bad ones he embellished a few details to make himself look better).

-He'd keep you company where you'd previously stayed alone, joining you at your altar.

"You know, this kinda reminds me of this church I used to pass by all the-"

"Chance."

"My bad."

-You'd noticed the changes but hadn't said anything about it to him, not wanting to risk him changing back to being more abrasive and thrill-seeking in a bid for your favor. It was sweet, if a little corny.

-He would keep going with it, embarassing himself with overly sappy gestures until you'd finally say something to him, until some kind of progress had been made that told him it was all worth it. He could only imagine what it'd be.

-It was just another night where everyone had gathered into the main living room of the cabin, waiting for dinner to be done. You sat next to him because he insisted and he took up the whole couch himself otherwise. He did all of the talking, including you through references to things you'd done or said in the past while you relaxed. He barely even noticed when you'd gone completely still until you leaned onto him.

-He looked over, being met with shut eyes and quiet snoring. The stifled cheering and wild hand gestures were almost enough to wake you up, much to his displeasure.

[gotta-winwin]

childhoodbestie!chan x reader

a/n: putting an angst warning + spoiler here right now so be warned ❗dino just gives off downbad!childhoodbesties! vibes sooo hard + a shameless parallel to the beloved laurie from little women. my love you will always be famous.

childhoodbestie!chan who’s been following you around like some gremlin since birth. It helped that your two families lived awfully close together, leading to you bumping into Chan every time you went out.

childhoodbestie!chan who has been in your class at school from preschool all the way to your senior year of high school. some people mistake the two of you for twins and teachers have long since been used to the fact that the two of you came as a duo. It’s not uncommon for you to be asked “where’s chan?” whenever he wasn’t right next to you - as if you’re somehow supposed to know where he wandered off to. (you usually do)

childhoodbestie!chan, who has been copying off your homework since homework was required. It’s gotten to the point where he doesn’t even need to ask, shamelessly copying your work from the other side of the desk. He’s mastered the art of reading upside down just to copy off of you easier. 

childhoodbestie!chan, who shares all his food with you without complaint. It’s second nature, how he unconsciously offers you anything he’s eating, not even pausing through whatever anecdote he was ranting to you about.

childhoodbestie!chan, whose friends are naturally your friends. You don’t really remember when he got adopted into a massive friend group of 12 other boys, but hanging out with them became natural and you integrated into the group as a vital member. 

childhoodbestie!chan who still cries into your shoulder every time someone breaks his heart. His childlike innocence and sweetness has not changed despite the constant mishaps with love, and neither has his instincts to run to you every time he needed a solution - or a hug. 

childhoodbestie!chan who ignores how he’s loved you since he first learned how to ride a bike. He pretends he doesn’t remember the way you teased him for not knowing how, racing past him in the purple bike his parents had given you for your birthday. He ignores the fact that he’s been in love with you since you were both six. 

childhoodbestie!chan, who leaves his house no matter what ungodly hour it may be to go pick you up. He never questions why you need a lift, never mentions the puffy eyes and pouting lips you sport as you shuffle into his car. He knows you’re both still young and stupid and figuring things out - he’s fine waiting, waiting for the day you really see him. 

childhoodbestie!chan, who knows you still see him as the same little boy who you had to defend on the playground. No matter how hard he tries to remind you that he’s grown - fending off jerks for you at the bar, loudly bragging about his sexcapdes to remind you he’s a full grown man (albeit not his brightest move), even carrying all your luggages up the stairs in one go - he knows it’s not enough. 

childhoodbestie!chan, who has a cute story behind every gift he’s ever gotten you. Whether it was for your birthday or christmas or even valentines (he was your valentine one year for fun and he still cherishes that moment), he has a little backstory and anecdote for why he got you it. 

childhoodbestie!chan, who knows your likes and dislikes by heart. It’s gotten to the point where his friends find it a bit concerning, when he will randomly point at something and go “oh, Y/N loves that” or “Y/N would have killed to see that.” His friends know his heart is cracking a little each time he brings you up so casually, knowing it’ll never be in a you talk about your girlfriend all the time type of way.

childhoodbestie!chan who watches as you fall in love with someone else. 

childhoodbestie!chan who can only listen and watch as someone else treats you right, feeling happy that you’re happy yet still feeling a little slighted. He can’t help but admit to himself that maybe he actually thought you’d fall in love with him one day. 

childhoodbestie!chan who’s the only male bridesmaid at your wedding. He makes sure the day goes perfectly, despite feeling like he wants to die in the process.

childhoodbestie!chan, who admits to jeonghan one night half-drunk and through tears that he could've sworn you'd love him eventually. that 20 years was enough to love him. right?

childhoodbestie!chan, who knows childhood bestie is all he’ll ever be. 

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

maybe an insecure G!P donna x reader?

angie and reader have basically grown to be friends (bc reader has been working as donnas maid for a very long time) and angie brings up the idea of reader being with someone (a woman) with a penis and the reader gives an off reaction, so when reader comes onto donna, she sort of freaks and doesnt know what to do or say in response to readers advances.

(but it obviously ends good)

Yesss!!! Thank you for your request!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!!!

Fears

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem, maid! Reader

Warnings: G!P Donna, smut, Minors DNI, Donna being Donna, fluff

Word count: 8,124

Summary: Why? Why she hides her feelings?

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!! I love you all!!! :))

The silence, broken by the sound of cutlery, a dim light illuminating the table, that gloomy mansion... It could certainly seem that, like every night for some time now, you were having a romantic dinner with her. But even though all your senses, your feelings told you, whispered to you confirming that you were right, the reality was confusing and mysterious, as always.

There were no kisses, hugs or confessions; it was just you and her. It was a connection that was sometimes very visible and other times you couldn't even perceive.

You weren't a friend, a confidant, a lover, no. You were a maid looking for a way to stop being one, without finding a hidden corner, a secret passage to her feelings, to her heart.

Discreet, but at the same time endowed with a confusing joy for living, you spent the first years of your youth doing what all girls your age longed to do, looking for love. But your interests were far from those of a small majority, from what was expected of a villager, or rather, from what was the norm and not an exception.

Like the cliché of a romantic and dramatic novel, you fell in love with who you shouldn't have and you gave your first love to a stupid girl, thus becoming the worst mistake of your life.

Disappointment and deception were your first lessons, and you learned them too well. With a broken heart and a family on the brink of poverty, you decided to find a way to get away from it all. Being away from the village and at the same time earning some money seemed impossible.

Mother Miranda, the Lords, the Black Gods… they were your captors, the reminder that you would never get out of that place. The Duke, the village merchant, an entity somewhat kinder than the Gods or Mother Miranda seemed like a good solution to your problems.

For a 20-year-old girl like you, it wasn't difficult to aspire to any of the jobs that this extravagant man offered, but what you didn't know was that you wouldn't be an assistant or a merchant, but… a maid.

You were terrified, but you had to help your family. There was no time to think about fears, about what could happen, you simply accepted. Of course you would get away from the village, but the place you were going to was much worse than the memories of a failed love.

Nobody knew exactly who or what Donna Beneviento was. She was a Lord, descendant of the founders of the village, the youngest of her siblings, a doll maker... You didn't know anything else. You knew her mourning figure, the veil that covered her face, the sinister doll that always accompanied her, but the rest was just rumors.

They said she was a very sick, dangerous woman, who could make you suffer your worst nightmares without lifting a finger; they said that entering her territory was like death itself, a journey without return that no one could explain clearly. The reason? Just like the end of life, no one had ever returned to talk about it.

Barely speaking, she accepted your presence as a useful nuisance. You couldn’t hide your fear, the tremors of your body when you had her near. The rumors were present every day in your head and every night you wondered if it would be the last.

But time passed and nightmares didn’t haunt you. You couldn’t feel comfortable in her presence, in her elegant steps and glances through the black fabric, but you got used to it.

Donna was a strange woman, withdrawn, sick, and had no interest in you, in your presence or in your work, at least at first. Time was in your favor, as you began to stop shaking and accepted that you would continue to be in that place, that you wouldn’t disappear in that waterfall.

You did everything a maid did: clean, do the laundry, prepare your mistress a hot tea every afternoon... You did everything, except cook. You didn't know exactly why the lady in black was reticent in that regard, but you did know that you would never cook as well as she did.

Time again settled that strange coexistence, and conversations stopped being simple words or timid gestures, to let the words flow little by little. Of course, the attitude of the Angie doll was completely different from that of her owner, in fact, many times you prayed to the Gods for her to leave you alone.

Accustomed to your new life, you began to pass each of the challenges you set for yourself, knowing what to say to Donna to make her look at you or respond, and how to deal with that sinister puppet.

One afternoon, without warning, the lady in black pulled the veil from her face in front of you, leaving you pinned to an old chair. The people who said that a monster was hidden under that black cloth had never seen one in their lives. Donna was a truly beautiful woman, with a face damaged by selling her soul to the Gods.

Her face was damaged, yes, but not her beauty. Finally seeing the face of the mysterious woman laid the foundation for what was a chain of events that would continue until that very day.

She knew how to smile, she did it often. Her pale skin blushed with your compliments; her soft hands caressed yours from time to time, thinking you wouldn’t notice.

Your heart wasn’t oblivious to all of that, to those changes in your way of seeing things, in the way in which little by little, you began to see Donna.

That cowardly girl from the village abruptly left your thoughts, pushed by the constant image of the smile of the lady in black, by those timid and apparently innocent approaches. Denying it would be foolish; your heart had chosen, had chosen to fall in love with Donna Beneviento.

What could have been a new illusion in your life mutated unintentionally into a constant longing, into much more intentional approaches, into caresses that you began to provoke.

Donna seemed more than satisfied with your hands in hers, with a sweet smile, with a loving gaze staring into yours.

Again, it seemed like a love story worthy of a novel, but you should have already known that fiction was just that, fiction.

The tension was constant, the silences between you always seemed to precede a kiss, a confession, a confirmation that it was really happening, but it never did.

Donna, who at first seemed to want to get closer, moved further and further away. She seemed just as in love as you, but something told her to stop. When you were close to her, when you couldn't do anything but kiss her, she moved away with any stupid excuse.

Close, far, close, very close, and very far. She never said anything, never confessed the feelings you saw in her eye. You just settled for that special friendship, that tender relationship that maybe was just that.

The fear of misinterpreting things, of making a mistake and losing what it took you so long to achieve, made you deflate, but not give up.

If she was scared, if she needed you to wait for her to gain enough courage to tell you that you weren't fooling yourself, of course you would. You would wait for her until she was ready, whatever it took.

“It's delicious,” you said, blinking in pleasure at the food, earning her beautiful smile back with a slight nod.

“Grazie, (Y/N),” her hoarse voice replied. “But it's not the first time you've tried lasagna.”

“I know, but it's always delicious,” you said amused, shaking your head, searching your mind for the right way to stop silence from reigning again. “Someday I'd like to learn how to make it.”

Donna looked at you and smiled again, looking at you curiously.

“You... do you want me to teach you?” she asked in a cautious whisper, as if she didn't believe your words, as if deep down she knew that all you wanted was to hear her voice.

“Yes... well, if you want, of course,” you said, looking down to continue with dinner. “If you don't want to teach this clumsy maid how to cook...”

“No, no, no, um...” she said nervously, with the words coming out of her mouth with difficulty. “I didn't mean to seem rude. It's just that it surprised me. No one had ever asked me to teach them how to cook.”

“Well, I have,” you said jokingly, rolling your eyes adorably and making her nervous again, holding her gaze.

“Actually... I haven't gotten involved with many people so...” Donna murmured, wiping herself with a napkin. “I mean, with no one really and... Ugh...” she sighed nervously, looking down.

“Has no one ever told you that you cook wonderfully?” you asked curiously, to which she simply shook her head.

“I've always cooked for myself,” she explained. “You're the first person to try my dishes.”

“It's an honor,” you whispered, bowing shyly. “You're also the first person I've worked for as a maid, so it's a tie.”

“Yes,” she sighed, sipping some wine to hide her blush. “You're also very good at cleaning and… you leave clothes sparkling clean and…”

“The washing machine does that,” you joked, gesturing with your hand.

“Yes, but… I mean, you're a good maid and… Ugh, I better shut up,” Donna muttered, frowning.

“No, please, I like listening to you,” you said with a serious tone, making her smile discreetly.

“(Y/N), why did you decide to serve me?” she asked with a slightly different, distrustful voice. “I know your parents need the money but… Why me? You could have been more comfortable in the castle.”

“To be honest, the Duke offered me the job,” you whispered, with the demons of your past stalking you. “I'm not going to lie to you, Donna, at first I was a little scared with the idea of ​​coming here and…”

“With me,” Donna added, with a hurt sigh and a dark look.

“Well, yes,” you said sincerely, drinking from your glass. “But I couldn't refuse, I… needed to get out of the village and if I tell you the truth, I never believed in rumors.”

“Did you need to get out of the village?” the lady asked curiously, arching her eyebrow. “Perché?”

“It's a long story,” you murmured, relaxing your expression. “I don't want to be boring by telling you about my misfortunes.”

“Oh, no, please, tell me,” Donna said, blinking curiously, with a look that you couldn't deny anything to. “I'd like to know.”

“Okay…” you sighed, taking a breath and turning your eyes away from hers. “Well, it turns out I fell in love with a girl from the village,” you began, remembering worse times.

Donna nodded impatiently, giving her full attention.

“I thought she was wonderful, the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen and, well, all those things you think about when you're in love,” you said, playing with the delicious food. “I'll just say that her family was very… traditional, they didn't look kindly on their little girl having anything to do with a poor girl like me, especially a with a girl.”

“I don't understand,” she said, shaking her head, not missing a detail of your sad story. “Why not?”

“Well, I guess there are people like that,” you sighed, controlling the sudden moisture in your eyes. “The issue wasn't what her family thought, I didn't care, but she did.”

“Oh,” Donna sighed, looking down, sensing the end of that story.

“Yes...” you said, shaking your head. “You know what? I thought love could overcome all that nonsense and prejudices. The truth is that knowing that wasn't the case was what hurt me the most.”

“Don't you believe in love?” the lady asked, innocently.

You couldn't help but smile, smile when you looked at her, seeing her bright eye giving off curiosity about what you felt about love.

“I thought I didn’t but... I was wrong,” you said, trying not to be too obvious.

“Have you found someone?” she asked abruptly, clenching her fists in a suspicious, nervous way. “Who?”

“I'm still not sure,” you whispered with melancholy, knowing that Donna would never, ever think that that someone was her. “I envy you.”

“Envy?” she asked, shaking her head with a strange look.

“You, the Lords,” you said, shrugging. “You aren’t judged, you can do whatever you want.”

“Um, well…” Donna murmured, frowning. “But that's not…”

“I wish Mother Miranda had adopted me too. It would be great to be completely free and also have powers. You're very lucky…”

“Lucky!?” the lady shrieked, hitting the table with her fist, scaring you with her abrupt attitude. “Lucky, you say?”

“That's the way I think,” you said confused, taking your hands off the table, noticing the trembling of her body. “You're a powerful woman, no one tells you what to do.”

“You have no idea, (Y/N),” Donna hissed, getting up slowly, threateningly. “You just talk nonsense. You don't know what you're talking about.”

“I'm sorry, have I offended you? I thought that…” you said nervously, fearing for the tranquility of that night.

“Would you sell your soul to the Gods to feel free? Do you realize what you're saying?” she asked in an accusatory tone, pointing at you with her finger.

“You did it,” you said strangely, crossing your arms.

“Yes,” she said coldly, leaning towards you. “I paid the consequences. You don't know what she did to me…”

“She offered you a gift, one more chance, eternal life, that sounds good to me,” you answered sincerely, a grave mistake, since the lady was increasingly nervous, her body trembling with anger.

“A gift…” she sighed, with a nervous laugh. “Look at me!” she shouted, pointing at the deformity of her face. “Do you think this is a gift!?”

“Donna…” you sighed, moving your hands to try to calm her down. “I've told you many times that it doesn't matter, you're beautiful and…”

“Sei una stupida…” the brunette hissed, clenching her teeth. “You don't know what it's like to look like this, you don't know what that gift did to me, what it did to my body…”

“Body? What's wrong with your body?” you asked confused, looking her up and down. “You have a beautiful body, what…?”

“Nothing, forget it,” she whispered, controlling her breathing and closing her eye.

“Donna, what…?” you asked, getting up and bringing your hand to rest on her arm.

“I said forget it,” the lady growled, pulling away from your hold with an annoyed gasp.

“But…”

“Forget it! Porca puttana! Lasciami!” she shrieked angrily, kicking the floor and turning with a sob, disappearing down the elevator hallway.

“Donna…” you sighed, frustrated by that argument, one that you had unintentionally provoked. “But what did I say?”

“Nonsense, as always,” a shrill voice said, the Angie doll, who approached you with a comical step.

The puppet was always jealous of your presence, at least for a while. Little by little you managed to gain her trust. Sometimes you wished you had that complicit friendship with the lady and not with that rebellious mix of porcelain and wood.

“I haven't said anything bad, right?” you asked curiously, letting yourself fall into the chair and resting your hand on your forehead. “I just wanted to praise her.”

“Praise her? Well, you're really bad at it, silly,” Angie mocked. “Anyway, I hope you haven't forgotten our game session tomorrow.”

“What? How can you be thinking about that?” you asked annoyed, while you looked at the hallway. “I screwed up things with Donna, again, help me.”

“Help yourself, silly maid,” the doll snapped at you, tilting her head. “You can start by keeping that mouth shut.”

“What did I say? Angie, do you know what she meant?” you insisted, looking for an explanation for the lady's behavior. “Look, I know Donna is embarrassed by her looks, but I thought she was over that and…”

“She wears a damn veil every time she leaves the house. Do you think she's over it?” the puppet hummed. “Um, lasagna…”

“Well, she doesn't wear it with me,” you muttered thoughtfully, staring into space. “I don't understand what that was about, I thought…”

“Stop thinking so many things, silly girl, and pick this up, I'll deal with your mess,” Angie said, patting your back and getting off the table, walking towards the elevator. “Big mouth!”

“Hey! But…” you protested, shaking your head and growling in frustration. “Damn…”

With no other options, knowing that it was going to be a rough night for your lady, you decided to obey the doll, which mysteriously seemed to be the more rational part of the lady when she lost her mind.

You were never allowed to deal with those horrible crises and psychotic attacks, but you were convinced that you would eventually be able to, although that night didn't seem like progress at all.

In silence, mulling over what your unforgivable mistake could have been, you did your maid's work, cleaning the dishes in the kitchen under a deathly silence, a silence that betrayed a distant sob coming from the lady in black's room.

You knew Angie was with her and that you shouldn't worry too much, but a second sob prevented you from going up to your room and caused your legs to move on their own towards the bedroom.

“A-A-Angie... I can't take it anymore...” you heard the lady sobbing, whom you could see through a crack.

Donna was at her dressing table, her head buried in her hands, faithfully accompanied by the only friend she ever had, and that wasn't you.

“Come on, come on, she didn't mean any harm,” the doll said while you listened. “She has no way of knowing that…”

“That's the problem, Angie,” the lady said, raising her head a little. “Cazzo… she doesn't…”

“Hey, hey, Donna, relax… I'm convinced that if you tell her…”

“I can't tell her! Don't you realize? She would never understand, she would leave and I would… be alone again…” Donna said, making you frown, not knowing what they were talking about, but sensing that it had something to do with you.

“Well, I think she would understand. She's nice, I'm sure…” the doll said, with a petulant tone.

“No!” Donna shrieked again, with a completely broken voice. “No, Angie, I can't keep her away from me, I... she...”

“You're almost as stupid as she is. That's nonsense, Donna,” Angie said, in a mocking, dangerous tone. “Let me take care of that.”

“Cosa? You?” the lady asked, shaking her head. “Angie, don't you even dare to...”

“Leave it to me, my dear Donna, we’re friends,” the doll said.

You didn't want to risk listening any further and you disappeared with a subtle step, wondering over and over again what was going on.

Fantasizing, tossing and turning in bed, you imagined what that secret could be. Logic and your hopeful heart whispered dangerous theories in your ear, whispered that maybe, just maybe, she had feelings for you and that the mere fact of acknowledging it was a torment for her.

The reasons? You didn't know. It could be because of her status as a Lord, because of the irrational fear of a relationship, or because she considered you a silly maid who couldn't feel the same.

It was definitely nonsense. You were madly in love with Donna, nothing could change your mind, but there was something you could do to change hers.

The shy and slightly submissive attitude you always had with her wasn’t going to serve to get results, you would have to be more direct, subtly force her to stop being afraid, to say something you already knew, that she knew. But you would have to be cautious and not take hasty steps.

Everything you thought or believed was pure conjecture from a stupid girl in love. One wrong step and everything would end. You would lose that wonderful woman, that woman you were longing to love.

“Donna,” you said the next morning, entering the workshop with an innocent smile, pretending that nothing had happened.

“Mm,” she murmured, focused on an almost finished doll, without looking at you.

“How pretty,” you whispered tenderly, looking over her shoulder at the creation.

The lady couldn't help but smile, handing you the doll so you could see it closer, satisfied by your compliments.

“It's almost finished,” she said with a distracted look as you gave it back to her. “Do you want something, (Y/N)?”

“Yes, well…” you said somewhat nervously, trying to search in your mind for the strategy you had already rehearsed. “Hey, I was thinking about yesterday…”

Donna lowered her gaze, suddenly tensing her whole body and breathing with difficulty.

“I don't want to talk, go away,” she said, with a dangerous hiss, moving away from your proximity.

“Oh, wow,” you sighed in a sad tone, pouting. “I thought you were excited to teach me how to make lasagna…”

“Mm?” she murmured again, frowning and looking at you briefly.

“Don't you remember? It seemed like you wanted to teach me,” you insisted, placing a hand on her shoulder, one that she glanced at, but didn't move away. “Well, if you're not in the mood, I won't bother you anymore.”

“Un attimo, (Y/N),” she interrupted, getting up from the chair when you were about to leave the place, playing nervously with her hands. “I-I'd like to teach you.”

“Great,” you said with a bright smile, putting your hands on your hips.

She smiled back, nervously nodding.

“Um… let me finish this and…” Donna sighed, with a different glint in her eye, one that betrayed interest, almost excitement.

“Hey, not at all!” Angie shrieked, also entering the workshop. “Don't you know what time it is, you silly, silly girl?” she asked, demanding an explanation.

“Well…” you said, glancing at the clock.

“It's playtime, silly maid! Have you forgotten?” Angie told you, insistently hitting your shin.

“Angie, Iasciala estare,” Donna sighed, glaring at the doll. “I'm going to teach her how to cook.”

“That's fine,” the doll said, nodding and walking towards her owner. “But first things first, Donna, she has to play with me.”

“Angie…” the lady growled, with visible impatience.

“No, um… it doesn't matter, Angie is right, playtime is sacred,” you said amused, with a childish tone, bringing a bold hand to the lady's cheek, which trembled with the contact. “That way you can finish that pretty doll…”

Donna blinked when she lost contact with your skin and opened her mouth to say something, but the words didn't seem to want to come out of her lips, so she just nodded, bringing her own hand to the place where yours rested.

You smiled satisfied, turning around and leaving a petrified lady behind you as you walked with Angie through the basement.

“Let's see…” Angie whispered, rummaging through an old drawer where she kept her favorite games.

Throughout that year, playing with the doll had been just another part of your routine. You couldn't deny that it was fun deep down, and as loud and irreverent as Angie was, you considered her something very, very close to a friend, a special one, of course.

“How about chess?” you suggested, taking out the board as you sat on the floor.

“No!” Angie shrieked, destroying your ears. “Cards, cards...”

“Cards again?” you asked, rolling your eyes as the doll pulled out a deck of cards.

“Yes, but not just any cards...” Angie murmured in a mysterious tone. “Let's play Angie poker.”

“Angie poker? You just made that up, didn't you?” you joked, laughing amusedly.

“Shut up, you silly, silly,” the doll protested, placing the deck in front of you.

“How do you play?” you asked while shuffling.

“It's like normal poker, but…” she explained, sitting on the floor.

“But,” you whispered in an intriguing, curious tone.

“If I win, you'll have to answer a question, whatever it is, and you'll have to tell me the truth,” the doll commented, making you frown.

“A question?” you asked, distrustful.

“Yes, silly, a question. If I win, I'll ask you a question and you'll answer honestly,” the puppet said again while you sighed, somewhat nervous.

“What if I win?” you asked, shaking your head.

“That's not going to happen,” Angie mocked, hitting the floor with one hand. “Come on, come on, deal.”

As expected, the doll didn't take long to win you over, no matter how hard you tried, you would have to answer her.

“Okay, you win,” you said, throwing your cards reluctantly and crossing your arms. “Come on, ask.”

“Mm, well...” Angie whispered, rubbing her hands. “First question, silly, silly, have you only been with girls?”

“It's an easy question,” you murmured thoughtfully. “I had some boyfriends when I was a teenager, but you could say that I have,” you answered without hesitation.

“Interesting,” Angie commented, studying your gaze. “Well, (Y/N), come on, another round.”

You laughed, arching your eyebrows at that fun game. Well, it wasn't so fun when you had defeat in front of you again.

“I have the same,” you protested at the doll's sinister laughter.

“Yeah, but my card is higher,” Angie mocked. “You lost again, silly, next question.”

“Ugh,” you complained, shaking your head. “Go.”

“Well… you said you had a boyfriend…” Angie murmured, with a more discreet tone than usual. “Have you ever touched a penis?”

“What?” you said, eyes wide, heart completely stopped. “Angie, what kind of question is that?”

“It's my question, answer it, loser,” Angie said, unfazed by what she had asked.

“Hey, that…” you whispered discreetly, looking around for more ears in the room. “That's none of your business, I'm not going to answer.”

“Coward, huh? Those are the rules, silly,” the doll said in a dark voice.

“No, not a chance,” you said, refusing flatly. “Ask something else.”

“No, I want you to answer that,” Angie said impatiently. “Come on… we're friends, friends talk about those things.”

“Angie, I don't think…” you whispered nervously, biting your tongue.

“Answer, maid, or I'll tell Donna that you think her lasagna is crap,” the puppet threatened, looking at her hands cockily. “You don't want that, do you?”

“Oh, you wouldn't dare…” you hissed, narrowing your eyes.

“Try,” the doll crooned, making you refuse again, which caused Angie to get up and walk past you. “Donna! Look what she said…!”

“Shh!” you hissed nervously, grabbing her arm and pulling her away. “Shut up, damn,” you growled, knowing you had nothing to do against her.

“Answer me,” she demanded again, freeing herself from your grip.

You growled again, squeezing your eyes tightly and rubbing them with your hand.

“Okay, okay,” you said in a discreet whisper. “I'm not going to give you a concrete answer. I just say that I experimented.”

“Oh…” Angie murmured, laughing amused. “Did you like it?”

“That's another question,” you said in a dark tone, wanting to throw the irreverent puppet into the fireplace.

“Oh, come on, you'll never win,” Angie said, leaning towards you. “You know it, look, I have all the aces.��

“Damn…” you swore. “Angie, what did I say about cheating?”

“Silly,” she mocked, making you hiss again and look away. “Come on, answer, did you like it?”

“I'm not going to answer that, what are these questions about?” you said annoyed and embarrassed.

“Curiosity,” Angie said dryly. “Come on, yes or no?”

“Ugh…” you sighed, wishing time would pass faster. “Well, it was different, but I never got as far as…”

“Would you like to do it again?” Angie asked, with a less mocking tone, as if she was serious.

“Okay, that's enough, I've played with you, now...” you said, getting up from the floor, ready to flee to Donna's company, to a shelter without Angie.

“Donna! (Y/N) doesn't like your lasagna at all!” the doll shrieked, making you grab her roughly, covering her moving mouth.

“Will you shut up? What's all this about?” you asked nervously, unable to put the pieces together in your mind, you wish you had done it before.

“If you don't answer, face the consequences,” she threatened again, making you twist your hands, imagining that between them, there was a wooden neck.

“You're...” you hissed, crossing your arms and giving up. “Well, no, Angie, I don't like boys.”

“I don't talk about stupid boys, silly,” the doll corrected, signaling you to sit back down.

Reluctantly, you obeyed, letting yourself fall to the floor.

“No? So what are you talking about?” you asked in a cold, annoyed and slightly embarrassed tone.

“You know…” Angie whispered, getting closer to your ear with a childish giggle. “Penises…”

“Ugh,” you said blushing and shaking your head.

“What if…? I don't know. If it wasn't a man, but a woman… would you like her penis?” she asked again, making you blush even more and raise your eyebrows.

“But, Angie, that's not possible, unless it's some kind of voluntary change, I once met someone who…” you explained, trying to find some rationality in that absurd conversation.

“I'm not talking about that, silly,” the doll said, interrupting you. “I'm talking to you about... well, what if it was an involuntary change?”

“Okay, I don't understand anything, what are you trying to tell me?” you asked, losing patience, finding multiple explanations in your head, some of which you didn't pay the attention they required.

“I mean, silly, silly... I'd like to know what you would think if... well, if you were in love with a woman, but she had a penis, not by her own will, but because of... the Cadou...”

“Cadou? What is that?” you asked.

“That doesn't matter now, silly, what matters is your answer,” Angie said, as if she had said something she shouldn't.

“You haven't asked any questions.”

“Because you don’t let me talk,” protested Angie. “Well, if you were in love with her, what would you do? Would you reject her just because she has a penis?”

“No, of course I wouldn’t. If I loved that woman I wouldn't care about anything else,” you answered from the heart, without even thinking about what it would imply, the meaning of those strange questions. “Seriously, what is Cadou?”

“I'm the one who asks the questions,” Angie said, with a slightly more nervous tone.

“They are very strange questions,” you said nervously, looking at the clock from time to time to end that torture.

“Don't be a whiner, come on, the last one,” the doll said, giving you a strong slap on the back. “And tell the truth, silly... I know when you lie to me.”

“How scary,”

“Shut up and answer: You love my Donna, don't you?” she asked in a low, kind tone, very different from the rest of her impertinent questions.

Of course you got nervous. The doll's statement was true, terribly correct, but you didn't know that she could even sense your feelings.

It was clear, the conversation from the night before was about you, but… if Angie wanted to know, why beat around the bush? Why such strange questions if that was what she really wanted to ask? It didn't make sense, no sense at all, unless…

“Gods, Angie, is it true? Does Donna have a…?” you asked, open-mouthed, blinking in confusion. “Gods, that's why…”

“Hey, that's not my question,” the doll protested. “I didn't say anything, do you hear me? You’re just drawing your stupid conclusions.”

“Angie, but, but, but how is that possible?” you asked curiously, stopping the doll from running away by grabbing her by the arms. “I don't understand anything.”

“I've already told you, silly, silly, when Mother Miranda adopted my Donna, her face isn't the only thing that changed,” the doll explained, then covering her mouth. “Oh, shit, I shouldn't have said that…”

“Hey, hey, wait, wait!” you said chasing Angie, who naturally ran away terrified by her mistake. “Hey, I do, I love her and I don't care about…!”

Your screams were of no use, as your mind was occupied with your thoughts. Suddenly, everything started to make sense.

 The doll maker's insecurities went far beyond her face, and you had no idea. Slowly, memories of your encounters began to fall on you, encounters where Donna would always back away when your bodies got close.

It wasn't an easy issue to understand. Surely she did have feelings for you, but her insecurities were too big, how could she expect you to fall in love with her if she probably thought you wouldn't like her body?

Poor Donna, it must have been terrible for her to think that you would never love her, that all she could do was discreetly walk away when you pretended to do the opposite. How could she confess her feelings? She couldn't be hiding it from you forever and as long as you found out... well, she would think you would leave, that you would be disgusted.

The revelation was strange, yes, but it wasn't anything especially surprising in a place like that. You were totally honest with Angie, you didn't care at all. You loved her, with a scar, without a scar, with a penis or without it.

It was an important step to begin to understand her feelings, but your mind understood it as the last step, as the green signal that indicated you could run as much as you wanted, that the path was clear.

You had been wanting to declare your love for her for a long time, wanting to kiss her, to feel her. Surely that is why you decided to end the tension at that very moment, and act, to force her in a certain way to admit that she felt the same for you.

To do so you would need some improvised strategy, to rescue some of that extroverted and daring personality you once had and you knew was somewhere. In addition, you had a unique opportunity for it, a great cooking lesson.

“That's it... gently,” she indicated while you cut the dough to form some perfect lasagna sheets, with a tender smile and a subtle purr. “I know I can buy it ready-made, but I like to do it this way.”

“Mm, it's much better if you do it with your own hands, isn't it?” you asked as you shook the flour off. “I hope I'm a good student.”

“Of course you are,” Donna whispered, giving you a tender smile as she moved away from you a little, stirring the sauce. “But pasta isn't everything. The main thing for a good lasagna is the…”

The lady froze when you approached from behind, grabbing her waist to stand on tiptoe and look over her shoulder. She trembled, speechless, but she didn't move away, she didn't take your hands off her body, innocent hands with not so innocent intentions.

“Mm? What, Donna?” you asked in a honeyed voice, as she moved gracefully so your hands would move on their own, away from her.

“T-The sauce,” she said, looking away and nervously stirring the appetizing contents of the pan.

“Yeah, sure, the filling is the most important thing, isn't it?” you asked pretending to be distracted, making her blink again, nodding slowly.

“Y-Yes…” she sighed. “Look, come.”

You smiled more widely as the lady left you some space to stand next to her, pointing at the pan.

“Mm, it smells wonderful,” you sighed, getting a little closer, shamelessly invading her personal space, leaving her no room to back away. “Can I try it?”

She just nodded, watching how your body brushed against hers, how your breasts brushed her arm in an intentional movement, with the wooden spoon shaking in her hand.

“Here,” she whispered frowning and offering you the spoon.

“Can you give it to me?” you asked, blinking childishly, not looking away from her confused eye.

“Em… va bene,” she murmured, dipping the spoon into the sauce and bringing it to your mouth while you held her hands, moaning in pleasure at the taste of the meat.

“Delicious,” you whispered, licking your lips sensually and making poor Donna look away, nodding.

“Ti piace?” she asked, moving away again, pretending to look for something in a nearby cupboard.

“Mi piace, mi piace,” you answered amused, chasing her slowly, standing behind her again. “What are you looking for?”

“Um, spices, yes, spices,” she said nervously, rummaging through the drawers.

“Parsley? You've already put it, haven't you?” you asked, looking at the jar she picked up, turning her hand with yours and taking a step towards her body again, being terribly close.

“Yes, but, but…” Donna murmured, seeing how her defenses fell, how your proximity completely deactivated her, just as you expected. “It's just that…”

Without thinking twice, you acted, directly, forcefully, bringing your lips closer to hers, catching them in a sweet, but deep kiss, which made the lady in black drop the jar as your lips consumed hers.

You pulled away with a curious look, seeing how her eye was wide open and her jaw dropped. She wasn't able to say or do anything, it seemed like she had been paralyzed. You could take advantage of that.

“Donna, the parsley,” you said pointing to the floor and bending down in front of her to pick up the jar, going up slowly, very slowly. “Be more careful, it could have broken,” you whispered, with a smug smile, handing the parsley to the motionless lady and moving away to leave her alone, at least for a moment.

It was the best kiss of your life, but it was also one that got no response. You fought inside yourself not to kneel down and confess your love, not to repeat the wet actions of your lips again.

You decided to tone down the euphoria a bit and continue cooking as if nothing had happened. Donna was nervous, terribly nervous, but she tried by all means not to lose her composure.

That lunch was the most tense of your life.

Silence reigned as always, but the looks were different. A tender smile decorated your face as she watched you, trying to decipher your actions, the reason for that stolen, treacherous kiss.

She didn't say anything, but neither did you, at least until, after eating, you decided to continue with your approaches, taking advantage of the fact that the lady was trying to distract herself by reading on the sofa.

You sat very close to her, her dress brushing against yours and, comically, she cleared her throat, moving away a little, but being chased by you until she was cornered.

Suddenly Donna put her book aside and sighed, looking at you briefly and shaking her head.

“Why did you do it?” she asked with a hoarse voice, a nervous whisper.

“What?” you asked, pretending to be confused, playing seductively with your hair.

“You kissed me,” she murmured after a few seconds of silence, avoiding looking you in the eyes. “Why did you do it?”

“You didn’t like it?” you asked, pouting. “Because I think you did…”

“I asked first, (Y/N),” Donna said, in a stern tone, frowning as she clenched the fabric of the couch in her fists.

“I don't know, I wanted to know how your lips felt,” you purred, resting your head on your hand. “I've been wondering that for a long time.”

“So, so... what's your verdict?” the lady asked shyly, slowly falling into your trap.

“Mm, I don't know. Maybe I'll have to give you another one to check it out,” you joked, getting closer again while she laughed shyly, with an obvious blush on her cheeks. “Unless you didn't like it.”

“I...” Donna murmured, shaking her head and closing her eye tightly. “I-I wouldn't mind if you kissed me again.”

“Mm, okay,” you said amused, getting closer to her lips, kissing them softly, letting her hands caress your face while she experimented, caressing you with her lips in a tender, but shaky way.

“W-Wait, (Y/N),” she said, slowly moving away and brushing your hair away from your face. “We shouldn't do this.”

“Why?” you asked in a more serious tone, far from joking. “Donna, I'm tired of enduring this tension between us... I know you feel the same way as I do... You can't refuse to admit it.”

“You're my maid, and it's not right,” she said, crossing her arms with a nervous gasp, looking at you comically out of the corner of her eye.

“It's not because of that, and you know it,” you said, taking her hand and pulling it towards you. “Donna, why do you insist on hiding?”

“(Y/N), look, maybe, maybe you're right and maybe I'm... madly in love with you, but it can't be possible,” Donna finally acknowledged, squeezing your hand in hers. “Don't ask why, tesoro, just... just accept it, okay?”

“No, I don't accept it,” you said seriously, with a brusque tone. “Stop hiding, my love… I, listen, I…”

“You don't understand, you're not capable of understanding it,” she hissed, moving away from you and passing a hand over her forehead.

“Kiss me again, Donna, please…” you begged, pushing away her fears, confusing her again with a deep kiss, one that she returned as you noticed how a tear ran down her cheek.

It was a different kiss, wilder, deeper, one that silenced the voices in her mind, that fear she had of not being loved, those insecurities. Your hands went to her face, to her hair; they went down her body slowly, not giving her time to think about what you were doing.

She stopped, but only for an instant, before continuing with those panting, hungry kisses, while your hand rested on her leg, moving up little by little.

“Basta, basta,” the doll maker said pulling away and placing a hand on your wrist. “Don't go on, per favore,”she sighed, embarrassed.

“Donna, stop... being afraid,” you whispered, wiping away one of her tears, hissing at the brunette's grip on your wrist. “Listen to me, I know everything, I know why you hide, I know why you ran away from me when I came near, I know why you deny yourself the desire you have to love me…”

“What? How do you…? Ugh, cazzo…” she hissed, pulling away and getting up from the couch. -Angie, vieni qui!”

“Shh, it's okay, Donna,” you said, lowering her back onto the couch little by little while she trembled in embarrassment. “She just wanted to help you.”

“Help me? But you, you know it and…” she stammered, breathing heavily.

“I'm here, kissing you, don't you see, darling?” you asked, caressing her cheek, guiding her to look at you. “Donna, I don't care, I love you just the way you are.”

“It wasn't my fault, it wasn't my fault!” she screamed furiously, while you fought against her demons.

“Shh, I know, I know,” you whispered affectionately, nodding slowly. “I know, Donna…”

“I didn't want this to happen to me… I just wanted to have someone, a family… to stop being the crazy Donna Beneviento but… I, I became a… a mons…”

“No, don't even think about saying that,” you cut her off abruptly. “You're a wonderful woman, Donna, you really are and I… I love you, I love you and nothing can change that, nothing, do you hear me?”

“But I'm not what you're looking for,” she protested, shaking her head.

“Mm, do you even know what I'm looking for?” you asked amused, making her laugh shyly. “No, right? Then… let's stop fooling around, stop holding back, stop being afraid and let us to love each other.”

“(Y/N)…” Donna sighed, unable to stop your lips, which silenced hers again while your hand returned to the desired place, caressing her leg slowly, following the rhythm of her kisses.

“Shh, don't talk. Let our bodies do it,” you purred in her ear, pushing her chest gently so that her back rested on the couch.

Everything was already said, everything was clear, she loves you, you loved her, there was only one last thing left to do: an act of love, an act that would demonstrate the reality of your words, of your feelings.

Kisses began to calm the silence, small gasps replaced her complaints and fears and her hands lost control, wandering over your dress, grabbing your back, pulling you closer, much closer.

Your legs climbed over her hips as you fought the gasps, her wandering hands clawing, clinging to your clothes. Your mischievous hand moved up her leg, making her breathing quicken as you approached her shame.

You laughed on her lips as your fingers ran over her covered, but very noticeable erection. There was no doubt that she wanted it, that she wanted you in a wild way, you didn't know to what extent she did.

“You're beautiful,” you whispered to calm her nerves, to let the caresses on her dress not be uncomfortable, but quite the opposite.

She didn't answer, she looked at your hand with doubts, but it didn't take long for her to kiss you again, to stop thinking, to let herself be carried away by all those longed-for sensations. Not afraid to go fast, to quench the thirst for love that your body had throughout that year, you continued to stimulate her little by little, grabbing her gently, causing terribly erotic moans to vibrate on your lips.

“Wait,” the lady said, nervous and excited, when your hand went inside her skirt to free her shaft and expose it to you. “Wait…”

“Shh, allow me,” you said putting a finger on her lips while your hand did its job, freeing her hard erection, making you feel her hot skin between your fingers. “I know I'm going fast, but I can't hold back the desire to love you… Oh, wow, not bad,” you said amused, looking down while your hand made soft movements up and down.

“Don't look at it,” she complained, looking away, closing her eyes to avoid seeing your lustful actions.

“Donna, you're perfect, your whole body is perfect and I want it,” you said sweetly, knowing that she wouldn't be able to complete that impure act and freeing yourself from your own underwear, climbing a further on her body.

“(Y/N), I…” Donna said, enduring the pleasure of your fingers caressing the tip, of the soft and inexperienced movements you made to align her erection with your wet entrance.

“Shh…” you moaned again, letting the heat of her shaft pass to your entrance, to rub against it, to play cruelly with it until you lowered your body slowly, introducing it inside you and closing your eyes at the sensation.

“Oddio…” the lady moaned as she felt how she slid into you, how your walls, so unaccustomed to it, adapted as you lowered yourself more and more, until she was completely inside. “Così buono…”

“Mm,” you moaned, enduring that discomfort you felt at the intrusion, dancing slowly, very slowly on her hips. “Oh, Donna… it's just perfect.”

“Can you move? Please,” she asked you, trembling with the pleasure of feeling your warmth, of being inside you in a unique and special way.

You nodded once your body got completely used to it, going up and down, feeling how it slid, how the hands of the shy and insecure Donna traveled to your hips, marking the rhythm of your movements.

“Yes, Donna…” you moaned, feeling an overwhelming heat, pleasurable and unmatched sensations, dancing, going up, going down, squeezing her erection with your slippery walls, accompanying those obscene sounds with soft moans.

You had wanted to do something like that for a long time, wanting to give yourself completely to Donna, no matter how. The pleasure you felt was shocking, unbearable at a certain point, especially when the soft movements of her hips began to get out of control.

Her shaft throbbed inside you, calling, demanding a release that you complied with by pulling back, trembling, squeezing her inside you with a moan that was going to traumatize the elusive Angie.

“(Y/N), I can't… hold it…” Donna moaned, her nails digging into your skin, just before her own release erupted inside you, warming you up, covering you with the wet caress of her seed. “Oh, cazzo…”

“Wow, that was fast,” you joked, moving with her still inside you, giving her a soft kiss on the lips.

“I'm sorry, I…” she said, visibly embarrassed.

“Don't worry, Donna, I was saying it to me too. I think we've been hiding what we felt for a long time,” you replied, caressing her cheek

“Yes, we have…”

[directdogman]

Dialtown is the most USA-core game I've ever played. It's so fucking American that it's scary, and I've lived there my entire life! Like, this feels fundamentally tied with the game's themes and narrative, that's how extreme it is. And it's not even alienating OR nationalist?? It makes such genuine commentary? And then there's so much other shit to think about too; Dialtown has a very real identity outside this that anyone could love?

One: I am VERY impressed that you have done the USA and its people this well. I am actually astounded, bewildered, and chuffed. I've never felt so seen by a video game, culturally-speaking. I didn't even know there was a culture to see.

Two: WHY did you do that. Dialtown is like USA Culture Absurdified: The Visual Novel. What drove you to make a game this rich with American culture and ideas???

Hello!

It would've been odd for an outsider (non American) who enjoys reading up on history to make my setting nationalist or alienating. America is a country with a lot of serious issues. You can't really study how America is (and has been) internally run without facing glaring and obvious systematic issues. DT's setting is one of scarcity and most of the main characters you follow in DT are kinda just scraping by without much hope for true mobility/advancement. A lot of Americans (especially younger generations) would agree this sorta encapsulates the national mood of the country right now.

Of course, the systems that run a country don't define its citizens - many of the finest people I've ever known are American and are victims of the whims of those with power, not willing participants in this system. I could be wrong, but that's why I think the setting connected with a lot of people. We all know Randys, Olivers + Karens, people who've fallen through the cracks in some way. To them, America's spirit of self-determination isn't about individual identity - it's more "you're on your own."

Why I chose to set DT in America would be a novel length answer in of itself, but it mainly came down to history + narrative opportunity. I wanted to set the game in the epicenter of where the phone-revolution came from and Crown likely couldn't have pulled his plan off anywhere else and probably not during any other time. It had to be 1960's America.

Of course, some parts of DT are sorta universal and were inspired by the the Great Recession and what followed. I remember there was an area not that far from my house that was full of green fields when I was born and when I was a kid (and when real estate boomed), stuff started being built there. Parts of it looked really nice, not quite like anything nearby. Like the future was coming. Then the economy crashed and stuff was left sitting there, half-built for like a decade. Skeletal, unfinished buildings. DT is much the same.

There's a feeling that the city could've been something better and while things could be more equal, it does feel like there are no easy solutions to fix everything - unless someone very smart and determined somehow bypassed every safeguard that was set up to halt radical change and enacted a genius plan to somehow eliminate scarcity. It happened once and might never again.

I don't think most people understand the intricacies of stuff like global commerce all that well (myself included), but when you're sitting looking at a half built neighbourhood mere hours after speaking to a friend who just kicked out of rented accommodation and doesn't have a stable family unit to fall back on, you'd have to be a real dolt not to understand that things aren't great right now. Most people are scraping by and feel if they could just get affordable housing locked down, if they had maybe one good opportunity - maybe there's hope that things could change for the better.

The end of DT isn't really utopian, things don't massively change for the better and indeed, the town has a lot of rebuilding to do. But, a collection of lonely people are now looking out for each other and through the relationships they have, now feel like they have a place in this world. That no matter how bad things really get - they aren't truly by themselves anymore. Most individuals don't have the means to significantly advance change on their own - but you can live your life, love those around you and support others and plan for when the opportunity to affect change comes about.

I guess that's what life is, in America or anywhere else. Sorry I rambled for so long. Hope this answered the question!

[essektheylyss]

My thing about Veth potentially venturing into polyamory is that I do think everyone involved would be perfectly fine with it and happy to help her experiment, and I think that no matter how they do it, it would not fix her. This isn't to say that she wouldn't get any benefit out of trying! It's just to say that it's not a solution to her actual problem, because I genuinely don't think the problem is that she's lacking any one thing that would make her life complete.

Fundamentally, I think Veth struggles with the idea that there will come a point at which she has to settle. Not in a bad way, just in the sense that she is one person with one life and she will have to live within those bounds. Because the thing is, I don't really think her issue ends at struggling to "have it all"; to an extent she does! She is a good parent, even if her kid is a little rebellious; her marriage is supportive (and has fun sex); she gets to go off to save the world with Yeza's blessing on occasion, when the world needs saving. She doesn't have all of these things all the time, but... that's not really a flaw, that's just a fact of life.

But she started out her adult life settling to an extent—even if she loved Yeza and loved being Luc's mom, she did the safe thing that was expected of her. The goblin attack and everything that transpired after shoved her out of that life, but in retrospect, to an extent it likely feels that that pushed her to find something more that she wouldn't have had otherwise. Being pushed to her limit under the worst conditions made her better, stronger, braver, and at the end of it she found that she could have both her original life and much of her new life—so why wouldn't she then wonder if further experiences of that ilk could do the same?

Crucially, she has not actually run up against a hard limit yet, and as such she hasn't had reason to believe that there is a point at which she has to stop and recognize that there isn't more for her to find. When she was drinking more heavily during missions, even when it caused the death of herself or others, there were no long-term consequences. And the thing is, I'm not saying that she should face that kind of major consequence, but she seems as though she is scared to accept that maybe she could be happy if she stopped before she does.

I'm also not suggesting that she should stop experimenting or trying new things—the Luxon knows I am not one to talk in that realm—but I do think she is searching for novelty not because that would make her happy, but because she doesn't believe that she has the capacity to know what would make her happy. She was unaware that polyamory was even an option, so think of what else she might not be aware of! She doesn't have perfect knowledge of the world, after all, so how can she trust that she's found what she really wants? So yeah, she could fuck someone else, and it might even be an enjoyable experience that she didn't know was missing! But that only prolongs the question of what else she might be missing.

I think that deep down, she's terrified that if she doesn't keep pushing until that external hard limit, she will end up with regrets later, and simultaneously she is resentful that her friends all seem to have reached a point where they are largely content with what they have, because she wants them to have everything. She wants herself to have everything. And she has not yet allowed herself to come to terms with the fact that only she can determine when the everything of what she already has is enough, and anything else is the cherry on top.

[kriegermeanswarrior11]

So Ashlyn basically confirmed what I've been saying for more than an year: she's a selfish narcissist who needs to be the center of attention all the time. When that didn't happen for all the reasons we already know, Ashlyn ran off to someone else.

Ali is not an affectionate person.

She knows it. Ashlyn knows it. We all know it.

Ali is super focused on her career.

She knows it. Ashlyn knows it. We all know it.

So what happened? Kids and retirement.

All the affection that Ali previously gave to Ashlyn has been poured onto the kids (as any mother of two infants would do). Plus Ashlyn found herself outside of a world she had been a part of for 20 years.

A world she shared with her wife.

A world Ali was still a part of.

A mature person would have tried to solve the problem, to step forward and take responsibility.

Maybe asking questions. Maybe putting aside the ego for 5 minutes. Maybe having patience.

But not Ashlyn Harris ladies and gentlemen.

The solution that her brilliant and empathetic mind gave birth to was: open marriage. 😒

So put yourself in Ali's shoes for a second: you're wrapping up a stellar career, you have two young children, a dying father, and a wife who keeps telling you that she feels special, that she needs sleep, and that if you're not willing to give it to her, she'll suggest an open marriage.

Because the only thing she really cares about is herself. And she's doing it now!

She literally said that in Sophia's place there could have been anyone: she just wanted attention and intimacy, Sophia was there and so...

As I was reading this part I was like, "Do I have to feel sorry for Sophia Bush now?!" 😅😂

And this is the biggest reason, among many, why their relationship is extremely unhealthy.

I find it disgusting what she has done and said.

I find it disgusting that she never takes responsibility, that she always blames others.

And I find this belief that she is special truly pathetic.

Who the hell do you think you are Ashlyn Harris?!

You were so keen to prove that gay couples are equal to straight ones, that you behaved like the worst husband.

But most of all, you are the worst human being.

[erwinsvow]

LOST BOY

the water rushes over your feet, waves picking up a little.

you feel a splash on your ankle but don't move—the silence and moonlight on the dock is much preferable to the party on the boat occurring about fifty feet away.

you had to get out before you lost the last of your sanity, finding it slowly slipping away as your friends got drunker and the friends-of-friends got more unbearable. so, your solution was a few minutes of peace on the dock.

you look up and around at the other empty boats filling the marina. some are recognizable—like the lavish yachts of filthy rich parents. others, not so much, like the one docked right next to you.

you take it in, a fancy boat by anyone's standards, white surface almost glowing in the moonlight. it looked empty, and you're glad for it, because you're too comfortable to move and your feet are wet.

you keep staring, craning your neck and tilting your head to see if there's any name, or any indication of who it belongs to, when you see it. in pretty dark script, so faint you have to squint to make it out.

lost boy

"oh," you say, with the word coming out before you can think about it. "how sad."

and it is sad—makes you sad just to think about it, though you're not too sure why. all the other boats have silly names, names in ode to their owners or the weather or inside jokes no one else will ever understand.

this feels different, you think, staring at the boat you don't recognize and the name that's eliciting a reaction from you. your mind wanders, like always—who is the boy and why is he lost—when a sound from behind you snaps you out of it.

"you say somethin'?" rafe asks, and the voice sounds so close that you whip your head around to stare behind you, a little alarmed.

"oh, i-no. no, sorry. is this your boat? i'll move-"

"s'okay, kid."

you calm down a little realizing it's just rafe—sarah's older brother. though you don't talk to her anymore and haven't seen him in a while, you recognize him, shoulders sinking with a little relief that it's not some drunk idiot's boat you're next to. it must be rafe's.

he walks up to the stern but doesn't get on, rather looking down at you. you're sure you look dumb—party dress a little disheveled, your heels resting next to you while you're still ankle-deep in the water. you're not drunk but you're not sober either, and it's good that you're not, because you have the ability to look back up at rafe.

the eye contact goes on for a bit. caving, you look away back out at water and then the party boat across the dock.

"are you coming from the party too?" you don't think he is, you're sure you would have seen him. at the minimum, would have heard about it with the way the other girls chase after him. you say it just because you want to say something, keep the conversation going.

"nah, no. just came to get something." you're looking at your feet, but he's looking at you. "what was that you said? earlier?"

"nothing," you say, after a brief pause. you don't want to tell him you think his boat has a sad name—the last thing you want is to make him feel bad or try to explain your thinking process, both of which might haunt you.

before you can keep thinking about it, rafe comes and takes a seat next to you on the pier. you laugh, watching him take off his shoes so his feet can join yours in the water. the confidence—or at least, some courage disguised under the alcohol, rushes back.

"i said it was sad." you turn to look at rafe, a little surprised when he's already looking your way. "your-your boat's name. it made me sad."

"yeah?" you nod, trying your hardest to keep the eye contact. "and why's that, kid?"

"i don't know. just did. it sounds lonely, doesn't it?"

"yeah. maybe." you finally tear your eyes away, staring up at the moon. it feels odd to be sitting here having this conversation with someone you hardly know. stupidly, you think it feels intimate.

"are you lonely, rafe?" you ask it to the sky, wondering if you're prepared for the answer. he's silent for a while, and you wonder if you should have just stayed quiet.

"i don't know. guess so."

"fitting name then." you pause, looking at him again. your breath catches for a moment—he looks different suddenly, even more handsome than a few minutes ago, you think stupidly.

"what about you, kid? you lonely?" you nod at him again, smiling softly.

"but i still think you should change the name. there's no use in being lonely," you say, not sure where exactly you're getting the words from. "it's the one thing you can change."

"yeah, i think you're right."

you stay like that for a few moments, until someone at the end of the dock gets your attention, yelling your name. your friends call you back, and you realize you've been here for a while, trying to shake the water from your feet before bringing them back to the dock.

you don't say anything, but then you don't have to, with rafe talking the moment you try to get up. he stands, offering you a hand to get up and then picking up your heels, handing them to your by the straps. you accept them with another smile.

"well, i'll see you around."

"yeah." i hope so. "bye, rafe." you take a few steps away, hesitating again before you're too far. turning back, you see he's still looking at you walk away. "let me know. we could be lonely together."

you hear him laugh, scattering back to your friends. that night you go home thinking about rafe and the sad name and how you felt better in thirty minutes with him than two hours in party with all your friends.

a couple days later you end up back at the marina, walking around in the morning light trying to find where you had been sitting with rafe. you look around again, trying to find the lost boy but not succeeding, until you finally recognize the boat, though it has a different name painted on now, in pretty loopy letters replacing the name you had thought was so sad.

your name.

[c0la-queen]

RAGHHHHHHHHH

Could you ever so kind and provide some general dating Headcannons for all the four boys?? 🥺👉👈

Maybe some extra with red leader or someone else if you’re fine with that??? 🥺💜

Mwah mwah you have amazing work <3 /p

Oh my gods I am SO sorry that this is so late!! For some reason, Mr. Tumblr decided not to notify me about your ask?? And then I was at my bestie's house this weekend, so I haven't checked my inbox until now. Begging for your forgiveness rn Anon!!

Also literally kissing you for asking for Red Leader!! Mwah, mwah!!

---

Edd

If you are dating Edd... girlie I am so sorry for your sanity.

Don't get me wrong, I love Edd! He was my first Eddsworld love, my pookie bear for real! But he's the biggest bastard of the entire gang and I stand by that.

Calls you dumb pet names to try and make you laugh. Sugar Tits (regardless of gender or lack thereof, might I add), Baby Doll, Sexy.

He WILL grab/slap your ass all the time. Even in public. Only grins when you glare at him.

This man is a horrible influence. It will be so hard to get your shit done if he has decided that you need to be spending time with him. Why worry about work or chores when you could be all cuddled up with him and Ringo on the couch?

Will sulk if you reject his attempts.

If he's trying to get shit done and you're pestering him for attention? He will drop his basket of laundry or the dishes in his hands in a millisecond.

If he's working on a commission or animation, he'll let you sit in his lap in his chair, let you sit all pretty for him while he works. When he finishes, if you've fallen asleep by then -which you usually do - then he'll carefully move you both to his bed and snuggle up to you and take a nap with you.

Speaking of cuddling, he does naturally run hot. Comes with being a big boy <3 But if you don't enjoy that, then he'll use his powers to cool down his skin for you. Anything to keep cuddling!

He also uses his powers whenever possible. Will abuse them without shame. He puts things on the highest shelf, just so you have to him for help. He'll put patches of ice on the floor under your feet, just so he can catch you before you fall (he'll never let you actually get hurt), and uses his super strength to scoop you up randomly and carry you around.

You cannot show your text messages to ANYONE. He will say filthy things, just to fluster you. Horny Bastard. Finds ways to turn even the most mundane conversations into teasing.

He'd do cute couple things with you, like painting together and swapping canvases every 5 minutes. His favorite is going to cat cafes. The cats literally love him, its like he's made of catnip with how they swarm him.

Physical affection is a huge thing with him. Even little touches throughout the day, like ruffling your hair as he passes by, or a big hug from behind while you fix food.

Overall, big teddy bear that just likes to see his darling blush.

Tom

As I've stated in previous works, Tom is a secret romantic.

He's not a traditional romantic like Matt, but he's romantic in his own way.

Likes parallel play a lot. Finds it relaxing to just sit in his room, testing new songs on his bass while you lay on his bed reading a book. Or in your room, lounging on one of your plush beanbag and organizing his Spotify playlists while you fold your laundry.

Dates with him consist of record stores, concerts, and late night walks.

He'll sing for you if you ask him to.

Very down to earth, both as a person and as a boyfriend. If you have problems, he'll listen patiently until you're done, then help you brainstorm solutions. He doesn't downplay or ignore your feelings, but he doesn't jump to emotions like others might.

He tends to sleep in late on his nights off, since he's more of a night owl than anything. You know that, so you've made it a little tradition to fix him coffee around 11. You know exactly how he takes it, and he always thanks you with a kiss on the cheek and a sleepy, mumbled "you're the best."

Very caring. He'll make sure you've eaten and had water. Will usher you to bed if he can see that you're tired, or do your chores for you if you can't do them for whatever reason. If you can't sleep, he'll make you a mug of chamomile tea and sing you a little lullaby.

When it comes to his monster tendencies, he tries to keep you away from it all. He's bitter about what he is, and he thinks that you're better off separated from that side of him.

At the start of relationship, he'd get angry if you tried to push it. He'd snap at you, distance himself, not talk to you for maybe a couple of days. Further on in the relationship, though, if you push the issue and reassure him that you love every side of him, even the monstrous one, then he'd be more willing. Willing to let you in, to let you see that part of him. He'd be nervous about it, but he'd do it because he loves you.

Matt

He is a traditional romantic! His Mama raised him right, and he drinks his Respect Juice.

Makes sure you two have date night at least once every week. Dressing up nice, going out to dinner or a play, taking a walk through the town to wind down the night. Heading back into the house, changing back into comfortable clothes. He'd wipe your makeup off for you, if you wear it.

Absolutely the kind of guy to get down on his knees in front of you and unbuckle/untie your shoes or high heels for you. He's just so devotional.

If, for whatever reason, you guys are unable to have your date night, he'll make it up to you in some way. A bouquet of your favorite flowers sitting on your bed with a little note. A passionate kiss before one of you has to leave the house. A heartfelt love letter sealed with wax.

Makes sure to text you throughout the day with sweet messages. Compliments, "I love you"s, selfies, updates on what is happening at work. Or just reminders that he's thinking of you. Misses you.

Likes to cook meals for you if its just the two of you at home. Breakfast is his forte, but he's not the worst at following a recipe.

Always amazing for advice. He'll let you talk to him while he hugs you from behind. If it's something sad, he might cry. Just the idea of you going through something negative makes him sad, too.

If he doesn't have advice for you, he'd do anything in his power to find someone who does. One of the other roommates, or even his mother, if you're comfortable with it.

Speaking of his mother, she absolutely adores you. Since Matt has such a good relationship with her, he's already told her so much about you. She thinks its wonderful that her baby has fallen in love. After a while, Matt will even bring you along to his lunches with his mother. You two hit it off instantly.

If you're okay with it, then Matt would love to show you off on his social media. He thinks you're so gorgeous, the entire world should know that he managed to land you. Its never anything invasive, and he always gets your permission before he posts things. Blocks any weird or gross comments.

Loves going on shopping dates with you. Most of the time, its at the mall or a mall in a different town, because he loves walking around and window shopping. Occasionally, he'll take you to more expensive stores. It doesn't bother him, he loves spoiling you. No matter where you two are, he'll buy you anything that you want. If you are adamant to spend your own money, he won't put up too much of a fuss, though he does prefer to pay for you.

He'll do that couples trend with you where you find nail polish that matches the other's eye color.

Gift giving is just one of his love languages in general. It makes him so happy to give his loved one things that he bought. For you specifically, he'll also throw in hand made gifts. He may not be the most talented artistically, but he'll stay awake late into the night, sitting on the floor with a YouTube tutorial playing, paper and cardboard scattered around, a pencil between his teeth, paint on his hands and smeared on his cheek. The end result may look a little crude, but he'll still present it to you with pride. And, of course, you always love it.

Tord

Tord is probably the most romantically stunted of the four. Its not that he doesn't love you, far from it really. He just grew up in an environment where love wasn't freely given, and was often limited for appearances.

His father, as the Red Leader, insisted that he keep a professional and feared image. So, Tord never saw him being affectionate with his mother.

It might be hard at first. You'll struggle. You two may fight. But you'll always make up in the end. He'll listen to you, try to understand your point of view.

He's not against physical affection, but he's able to live without it. Will indulge you whenever you ask. If he's busy, which he usually is, he'll let you drape yourself over him from behind while he sits in his chair, letting you rest your cheek on the top of his head and watch him work.

More than anything, his love language is words of affirmation. Despite being a man of few words, he'll always give you praise. He'll make sure you know that you are his, he is yours, and he loves you. Nothing will change that.

Scary dog privilege. He'll always walk just behind you in public, keeping a guiding hand on the small of your back. Stays alert of you surroundings and the people around, so that you don't have to. You don't even have to worry about people approaching you in public. One piercing glare from Tord is enough to deter anyone.

Not the best at giving advice to problems. He'll listen, but sometimes he can't quite understand why something is an issue. Doesn't invalidate your feelings on purpose, it just happens inadvertently at times. Always, ALWAYS apologizes and holds you close when he realizes what he did.

His preferred dates are nights in at home. Cuddled up on the couch with takeout watching shitty rom-coms. Cooking food that he ate growing up in Norway while you sit at the kitchen table watching. Going to the convenience store at midnight to get Ben and Jerry's in the middle of anime binges.

You become his crutch. When he's having bad paranoia on nights that are too quiet, he'll seek you out. Just having you lay in bed with him, warm and solid and breathing, always calms him down.

He will never let you meet his parents. You are one of the very few good things in his life, and he wants to keep that away from his fucked up home life. Might let you meet his little sister, but not for a long time.

Surprisingly, he does tend to talk more when its just the two of you. He allows you into his head, verbalizing his thoughts to you. He'll ramble about his projects, tell you about the history behind his culture, or rant about things that annoy him. Denies it vehemently in front of others.

He is a huge tease, second only to Edd. What's dangerous is how casual he is about it. Loves making you squirm, and he'll never even change his expression. Sometimes he won't even be looking at you, but rest assured that he is swimming in satisfaction over how flustered you are.

Red Leader

I have so many thoughts about him. Oh my lord.

This is going off the scenario where Reader is a Red Army soldier and met him through the army, after the events of The End.

I want to clarify that this is NOT following the events of TBATF!!! This is my own Red Army timeline, what I refer to in my Eddsworld bubble as "The Bad End"

There are two ways that you'd be able to catch Red Leader's attention. Either you are an extremely talented soldier that does well among your peers, enough to earn the praise of your superior officers and eventually Red Leader himself. Or, you were assigned as his personal assistant to help with paperwork and meetings, but you were so good at handling his temper and attitude that he found himself surprised.

The latter of the two is my favorite, so I'll be working under that one.

Before you, Red Leader had been through several assistants. None of them lasted more than a month. By nature, he was a moody, temperamental man. The stress of the army and oncoming war only made that worse. He saw those previous assistants as nuisances, only getting in his way. He would yell at them, berate them, drive them to the brink until they beg Paul and Pat to transfer them.

When they assigned you to him, they expected the same thing to happen. The two even made bets on how long you'd last. On your first day, Red Leader was nasty to you. Gruff and rude. But... you bit back. That took him by surprise. Instead of taking the insult and shuffling out like a puppy with its tail between its legs, you pursed your lips and gave him a stern look and talked to him in a way that nobody dared to. He should've been angry. Should have screamed at you, discharged you from the army in a heartbeat.

Instead, he found that he quite enjoyed it. He enjoyed your spitfire. Not that he'd let you know. He only gave you a noncommittal hum and dismissed you with a wave of his hand. But... he kept you around. Even found excuses for you to come into his office more than necessary. His penchant for teasing came back full force. He'd poke and prod, finding ways to make you react with that fire he so loved.

It takes a long time for him to finally make a move. Probably takes a near-death experience for him, or an injury to you for him to realize that he wants this. He wants a future with you.

At first, he may seem a little cold in public. Not to the degree that his father was - he promised himself that he would never be like his father. Simply a more... professional air about the entire thing. It was more out of anxiety than anything. He didn't want to make you a target, didn't want to cause you to get hurt. As his army grows more powerful and takes over more and more countries, he grows more comfortable with PDA. He knows that when he is the most powerful man in the world, he doesn't have to worry about anyone hurting you.

He would probably treat you more like a spouse than a girlfriend/boyfriend right off the bat. He's older now, thinking more about the future than the present. He already knows that he wants to be with you forever, so why go through the formalities and hassle of dating?

Always makes time for you whenever he can. If he's in a meeting with his generals or another world leader, he'll sneak text messages to you. Doesn't give a shit if he's caught. What are they going to do to him, Red Leader?

If he's cooped up in his office all day, his door is always open to you. Loves having you drop by unannounced to bring him food or coffee. He'll let you climb into his lap while he works, or sit behind him in his chair and cling to him. Even if you're just sitting in a separate chair nearby, working on your own stuff. He's happy.

If you want to continue being a soldier, or his assistant, he'll let you. But he's also perfectly happy to have you simply be his partner and not have a care in the world. You could sit all pretty in his quarters waiting for him to get off duty, or use the time to pursue your own hobbies and interests. As long as you're happy and cared for, it's okay with him.

Spoils you rotten. You're Red Leader's, so of course you only deserve the best things. Anything in the world you want, you only have to ask for it. It's yours. He would raze entire cities just to see you smile.

He does enjoy taking you out on dates. While also spending time with you, he sees it as a way to show you off to the world. Dressing you up in the finest clothes that he got you, the prettiest jewelry that he bought. Taking you to restaurants and operas where everyone can see you hanging on his arm. It makes him puff up with pride.

When the two of you are alone, he's so adoring. Loves snuggling. It's a struggle to convince him to let you out of bed in the mornings, he'll just be clinging to you. If you do somehow manage to escape his grasp, he'll catch you around the waist and drag you back to bed. Won't stop until Paul or Pat message him to get his ass out of bed. He always grumbles about how "it's my damn army, I should get to sleep in as long as I want".

Sometimes, at night, he has pains in his right shoulder, the side where he's burned and amputated. It can range from a dull ache to excruciating pain. On nights that it hurts too much to move, you'll scramble out of bed and get his medication from his nightstand, gently coaxing him to take it. You'll hold him and comfort him until the pain subsides and he falls back asleep.

He doesn't like to talk about it, really. It feels weird, letting anyone see this part of his life. Letting you see his vulnerability. Letting you see him.

But he does.