#And certainly so in the case of something slightly playful like that

[maeamian]

Hi does anyone here speak enough spanish that they can confirm for me that the translation of 'bouncy ball' is 'pelota que rebota'? Because if so that rules.

[chuuyrr]

TO THE STRAY.. CATS? — DAZAI OSAMU

╰➤ CW(s): gn! reader, strangers to lovers with him falling first and falling harder, fluff/romance, and mentions of karma

╰➤ SYNOPSIS: in which dazai finds interest in a citizen who feeds stray cats near his workplace

inspired by: gorgeous, lover, and karma by taylor swift !

"well, if it isn't you again!"

you gently raise your head, blinking obliviously at the young man in a long sandy coat with unkempt brown hair looming over you as you crouch down with some sardines in your palm, just outside the cafe uzumaki.

"me again?" you ask the man, tilting your head, with a sheepish little soft grin that made him feel strangely warm inside.

"yeah, you!" dazai exclaims with a playful tone of voice, a smile on his lips and a finger pointing at you, "i keep seeing you around outside my workplace feeding the cats around here."

you were, certainly, the same person he kept seeing outside the building where the agency office was, feeding stray cats in the area.

and it was all thanks to ranpo, who mentioned how stray cats had been appearing around the area more frequently, and that if it hadn't been for his super deductive ability, he would have assumed it was because of their president, fukuzawa, but instead, it was you, going up and about to them with sardines or kibbles readily available.

as dazai called you out, you let out a soft chuckle, and the sound of your sweet laughter rang in his ears like bells, "i guess it really is me."

"so, you must really like cats, huh?" dazai asks, crouching down in front of you, copying your position, his eyes observing you tenderly as you reach out to pet one of the kitties you'd been feeding.

"mhm.." you hum softly, nodding your head and chuckling once more as another cat that you had been feeding meows and approaches you. it purrs as it rubs its head against your leg.

"and it seems that they like you as well.." dazai giggles quietly, "how strange."

"strange?" you raise your head to face him again, tilting your head and smiling sweetly.

"yeah, strange," dazai affirms with a nod as he briefly turns his attention to the stray cats that were rubbing, meowing, and purring gently against you as if you were their loving owner, "cats have an unearned reputation for being cold and unloving, you know?"

"really, now?" you ask, still carrying a sweet smile that dazai was having trouble looking away from now.

"well, that's because they display affection differently than dogs and they tend to be meaner, at least that's what people say," dazai says before glancing down at the stray cats swarming you that were being affectionate and friendly, "but that doesn't seem to be the case at all, especially with you."

"you know what i think, though?" you remark softly as you start giving more sardines and kibbles to the stray cats, "cats are actually adorable, clumsy, and fun to be with."

"and that's what makes you like them?" dazai smiles at your words.

your following remarks, however, catch him off guard, "yeah, but i mostly like how cats are sensitive creatures too.. cats are karma after all."

dazai's eyes widened in astonishment, clearly and really taken off guard by your innocently sweet comments, which had morphed into something even more serious yet still engaging.

"be kind to cats, and you get kindness in return, just like this.." you explain, gently stroking the cat's body with a delicate carress as you look up to him, "be unkind, and well, cats become unkind to you too, like bite and scratch you. basically, what goes around, comes around."

dazai's breath hitched as your lovely [color] eyes ever so slightly narrowed while sparkling with a mysterious yet alluring gleam in them as you continued to speak your mind out, "cats know a person's heart like no other."

"wow.. i was definitely not expecting that," dazai exhales, amused at your choice of words, "so you're saying, karma is a cat?"

"karma is a cat indeed," you reply with a firm nod, giggling softly as you stand up on your feet after crouching for so long, prompting dazai to do the same, "but hey, that's just a rambling from a crazy cat person like me."

"hey, i might have never heard someone describe and see cats like that in a very deep sense before," dazai laughs softly, shaking his head at you, "and i might not be a cat either, but i can sense that you're a really interesting one, and a kind one too."

"well, aren't you a charmer?" you join his laughter, smiling at his words, "you're too kind."

"and you're too pretty." dazai whispers so quietly that you didn't catch that.

"huh? did you say something, mister?"

"nothing!"

dazai couldn't help but daydream more frequently at work since finally speaking with you, much to kunikida's dismay.

he's been acting strangely since he found out about you and starting seeing you around the region, which his yosano-sensei and ranpo would find hilarious and lovely.

there's simply something so enticing about you, in a positive way. you always had this beautiful glow with you whenever he watched you from afar, even if you weren't feeding stray cats and were just roaming around the neighborhood.

dazai would constantly sigh with his hands on his cheeks as he looked out the window, waiting for you to come around the corner so he could walk up to you and talk to you while you fed stray cats literally with hearts in his eyes, and he would even hurry downstairs to the first floor as soon as he saw you.

all of this may sound strange, but in reality, dazai was madly in love with you, so much so that he finds himself acting like a high school boy with a tremendous infatuation.

however, it makes dazai so happy that it makes him sad at the same time as well. you were just so gorgeous—so beautiful in his eyes.

you were a person with a kind heart and an open mind who sees the world in such a different but entirely fresh light, and dazai just can't help but want to be closer to you and just follow you wherever you go.

even if it's to the stray cats.

having said that, perhaps dazai was mistaken, especially given the manner he was behaving towards you. maybe he is more of a cat now.

he'd drop everything and trail after you like the stray cats you'd feed, eager to spend time with you, and even going out of his way to be a gentleman to you, carrying your bag for you while you went onto feeding cats, opening up the packet of cat food you had with you when you had trouble doing so.

even going out of his way to rescue a stray cat you found and pointed in the middle of the road in a panic.

at this time, dazai was also doing it for the stray cats, but he wasn't complaining. he's not a dog person and prefers cats in reality, but he really enjoys being able to do all of these things with you.

he was also typically confident and charismatic, but it didn't mean he didn't have doubts. in fact, dazai has them again when he recalls the things you told him when he finally had the courage to speak to you.

cats know a person's heart like no other.

and those words played over and over in his head like a broken record.

"[name], i'm not sure about this."

dazai can't help but be nervous as he crouches down in front of an orange tabby cat you two had come across around the area, putting out his palm, which held the few cat kibbles you had given him.

"it's just a cute little stray," you giggle at dazai.

"that's not why.." dazai tells you with a sheepish laugh. that's not what he's nervous about.

he genuinely enjoys spending time with you. he really does, but, to return to your remarks, he wasn't yet a good person. his blood was as dark as an empty void—at least, that's what dazai initially assumes until the cat walks up to him.

he tenses up a little when the cat's soft snout nudges his fingers, which feels ticklish, and instantly finds himself gasping in awe when it starts eating the cat kibbles he had in hand.

all of his doubts and hesitancy are washed away by a sensation of relief and peace as the cat purrs and nudges its head against his fingers after meowing and eating the food in his hand.

dazai's eyes light up as he looks at you with his mouth slightly parted, "i'm a cat whisperer now!"

with the cat approaching dazai and accepting the cat food he put out for it, he starts smiling ever so joyful and honestly like a child on christmas day, and you couldn't help but find it absolutely adorable of him.

"looks like you are now!" you say with a rather proud looking smile at him.

"it really likes me!" dazai exclaims, returning his gaze to the cat, who was still pushing its head on his fingers.

he then began petting and speaking to it with giddiness just like how you would to a typical cat, "hi, cat! hi! you're so friendly!"

"of course the little fella does," you giggle, squatting down next to dazai before tilting your head and continuing to grin lovingly at him, "cats are sensitive creatures, remember? it definitely knows you're a good person."

he blinks at your words, "it does?"

"yeah," you reply, reaching out your hand to pet the orange tabby once dazai has done so.

"I see.." dazai's eyes softened as he watched you smile and coo at the orange tabby he had fed with the cat kibbles you'd given him earlier.

as dazai watches you and cat interact, his smile grows larger and more genuine, and his heart begins to skip a beat.

perhaps he had already found it, slowly but surely—the light he had sought out since abandoning his old ways as dazai spent this very modest and domestic moment with you.

this opportunity to be so near to you, to indulge in something so endearing as this. he loved it.

but then dazai's phone goes off, surprising both you and the cat he was feeding.

"ah, crap. sorry! let me just take this real quick," dazai says quickly with wide eyes.

"no worries. go ahead," you reply softly, waving your free hand that wasn't caressing a cat.

dazai pulls out his own flip phone, already expecting a call from an angry kunikida, who will reprimand him and make him come back to do his pile of reports, but it was atsushi instead.

he then answers the incoming call instead of declining, and to his surprise, the work he assigned atsushi ends up being successful, as it went swimmingly more than he had predicted, with no casualties or damages, which was actually quite strange.

aside from that, atsushi had also called in to inform him that he had completed the stack of reports for him. meaning, there was no more paperwork waiting for him at the office either.

you glanced at dazai from the corner of your eye as he talks on the phone with a coworker before a pretty pleased smirk tugs on your lips as you continue to pet the orange tabby cat.

"everything alright?" you ask with an innocent smile as dazai finished answering his call.

"mhm, it's just my co-worker," dazai tells you with a smile on return as he puts his phone away, drawing his attention back to you.

"well, that's nice," you hum before tilting your head at him, your innocent gentle smile widening with anticipation.

"what are you smiling like that for all of a sudden, cutie?" dazai raises a brow at you.

"well, it's getting late, but i still have some cat food on me," you giggle at the sudden pet name from dazai as you speak, tapping your cheek with your index finger.

"and what about it?" dazai smirks, already knowing exactly where this was going.

"it means it's time for me to go look for more stray cats," you say, tilting your head with that same smile, "unless you want to come along?"

"is that your way of asking me out?" dazai jokes, his cheeks blushing slightly.

"well?" you ask him back, your smile growing wider as your cheeks begin to blush as well.

"oh, please, you already know the answer, my love," dazai shakes his head as he approaches you, already wrapping his arm around your waist and smiling as he puts his lips to your ear.

"i would follow you to the stray cats and back."

"to the stray.. cats?"

"and back."

karma is a cat allows its user to induce karma, which can be a blessing or a curse that may or may not include the bending of reality, but it is highly dependent on the target's course of action and the sincerity of the heart around the user.

[waughymommy]

My first 'mature' ABDL story. It's about a husband and a wife who have a problem. I hope to write a lot more after this, so I hope you like it!

Finding Mommy

'This isn't working.'

The statement didn't come as a shock to Andrew. He knew it wasn't working. But he didn't want to look like he didn't care, so he persued it, already feeling resigned and bitter about the discussion's inevitable conclusion.

'What isn't?' he asked, softly.

'This. This whole...baby thing. I can't do it,' his wife, Tammy, waved her hand in his direction. He winced, glancing down at his apparel. A slightly soggy diaper, and a t-shirt. He'd been wearing the same thing to bed every so often for a couple months now. His wife had initially chuckled and teased him playfully, but lately...lately the playful teasing had stopped. She wouldn't remark on his padded state, except if the diaper got too close to her. 'The tapes scratch my skin,' she'd explain, but Andrew suspected it was something else.

She went on.

'I'm sorry. I thought I could. I know you really want this. But I can't do it. I can't...pretend you're a baby. The diapers were one thing...but...I can't do that,' she looked away, as if preparing herself to say something upsetting. 'You know...when you first told me...you made it sound...sound like a sex thing...I don't mind that. I don't even mind...using them, sometimes...like...like before...you know?'

She trailed off, looking at Andrew, a pained expression on her face. Andrew's mind flashed back to when he'd first told her, almost a year and a half ago. How she'd been so...accepting.

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

'Are these ones good?' Tammy asked, as she patted the package. 'I wanted to make sure I got good ones...I ordered these a few weeks after you told me...they just arrived on Monday.'

Andrew glanced at the large box of diapers, feeling a stirring of excitement at the fact that she'd bought so many...a whole case, in fact. God, what was she planning? Was this going to become a regular occurence? Was she going to keep him in diapers, for the whole day? Or wear herself? His head swam at the possibilities.

'I...uh...what are they?' he asked, licking his lips, nervously.

'Abena?' Tammy replied, scrunching up her face, trying to recall something. 'I...Abena X-plus? They had so many different names, but I think these are the good ones. Abri-form L4...The large ones...I wasn't sure what size we'd need...Oh.'

She suddenly stopped, pausing, as if worried about what she was going to say next. She reached into her (rather mysterious, to Andrew, at least) handbag, rummaging around. Andrew waited patiently for her to speak, his eyes darting back and forth between her and the large box on the bed. Abena X-plus was sure to be a world away from what he'd tried so far. He knew these were premium diapers. He felt himself jolt back to reality as Tammy started talking again.

'I bought...these...as well...'

Another package slid onto the bed, only this time it wasn't boxed or freshly delivered. It was clearly a packet of diapers. A packet of OPEN diapers.

'On the site I got the...uh...Abenas from, they were selling purple ones, too,' she said, nervously. 'So...I got some of those, in a smaller size...'

Andrew's mind could have exploded at that moment. Tammy stood up from the bed, an audible crinkling coming from her pyjama bottoms. Andrew couldn't believe he hadn't noticed the bulge of her diaper before, but he certainly noticed now. He stared at her rump almost hungrily as she turned sideways, looking coyly at him, grabbing the edge of her pyjama top and starting to lift it, revealing the purple waistband of the diaper.

Andrew stepped forwards, reaching out. His hand ran over her bottom, slipping off her trousers, until she was standing in just a diaper and a shirt. He patted the material of padding, pulling her close to him, hand trailing around and around the crinkly undergarment, feeling it, feeling /her/ through it.

'I...I guess you like it?' Tammy asked, feeling a little awkward. Andrew made a noise halfway between a sigh and a groan.

'Yes,' he replied, simply.

'Would you like to wear one, too?' she asked, wriggling her bottom against his crotch, making him tense a little.

'Y...yes...' he gasped, hardly believing what was happening...

'Then lay down on the bed for me...'

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

That night had been amazing. Andrew couldn't believe his luck. They'd spent the whole evening in diapers, exploring and experimenting. It felt like his wildest fantasies had come true. This beautiful woman, his future wife (he'd chosen to tell her a little while after they got engaged), was willing to wear and use diapers for him. He couldn't believe it.

She seemed almost as eager as him, that evening. She did everything he'd ever fantasized about, sexually. She wet. She asked for a change. She changed him...they even had...well. Andrew wasn't sure what to call it. Lots of rubbing. Wet, squishy diapers pressing together, then pulled aside for the 'main event'. Was that diaper sex? He supposed so. It was wonderful, whatever it was.

He wondered if what happened next had been a turning point. At the end of the evening, when they were snuggled in bed, she'd sighed contentedly and lazily rolled out of bed.

'Be right back, hun,' she told him huskily, slipping out of the room in an instant.

She'd returned, after a couple minutes, undiapered, her bottoms now back on. She'd smiled and gotten back into bed with him.

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

'Why did you take it off?' Andrew asked, a little confused. 'Didn't you like it?'

Tammy dodged the question, but sounded just as confused as Andrew. 'Well...we're done now, aren't we? I'm really tired...I don't think you're up to going again, even I wasn't...'

She paused, sidling up to him in the bed, absent-mindedly flattening the covers over her. 'Why haven't you taken yours off?' she asked, finally.

'I...Well. I just...thought I'd like to keep it on. That's...okay, right?'

A few moments ago, he'd been certain it would be. It seemed silly even to ask. But now he wasn't so sure.

'Oh. Um. Sure,' Tammy replied, smiling again. 'I love you.'

She kissed him, turning away, and Andrew slipped his arms around her from behind, murmuring 'I love you, too' into her neck.

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

'That was okay. It made me feel...sexy. I loved that I could have that effect on you. It made me feel good, too,' she thought for a moment. 'I felt like your partner, then. I felt like I was desirable, sexually, like...like this was a special secret, between us. Something for the bedroom, something kinky and fun. I didn't care that it was nappies, I knew people had fetishes...but this isn't just a fetish, is it?'

Andrew swallowed as she fixed him with a steely gaze.

'Is it, Andrew?'

He shook his head 'no'. It was more than that. He wished he'd explained before. He thought she'd understood.

'You...want to be a baby, don't you?'

Andrew's mouth opened in protest.

'No! I mean...not all the ti-'

Tammy raised a hand, cutting him off.

'I know. Not all the time. Not most of the time. Not forever. Just occasionally, right? Like when I tried before...but for real?'

Andrew swallowed and nodded again. He remembered the brief times she'd tried to play 'Mommy'.

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

'Uh...crawl to me...come here, you naughty little baby...'

Tammy's voice was strained, as she patted the top of her legs, calling Andrew over.

Meanwhile, Andrew himself was feeling...well. He wasn't sure exactly.

There was something a little exciting about the humiliation his wife was bringing to this role. He found something arousing about how she threatened to spank him, how she called him names and teased him. It felt, well, /naughty/, and he decided he sort of liked that. It was very erotic.

But...he wasn't looking for this to be erotic. Something was wrong. He didn't feel like a baby; he felt like a naughty boy being punished. He didn't feel safe and looked after. He felt chastised and a little ashamed. He felt unspeakably adult, despite the baby bonnet and mittens he was wearing. Instead of an innocent little baby, he was some weird guy, crawling around, pretending to be an infant, calling his wife 'Mommy'.

'Crawl to me!' Tammy repeated.

Andrew sighed, starting to move.

'Yes, Mommy...'

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

'I thought that was really weird, but you know...' Tammy shrugged. 'I tried. For you. I thought you wanted that. I thought it was a sex thing still.'

Andrew shuffled in the bed, feeling uncomfortable. He wished he hadn't worn to bed, now. He'd felt a pang when he'd gone to pad up; his case of abenas was nearly empty; her package of molicares was two thirds full. He hadn't expected her to use them of her own volition, but it was a reminder of just how infrequently she'd worn, for him or otherwise.

'Then,' Tammy continued. 'Then you told me that wasn't what you wanted, either. You wanted it to be more...innocent...more 'snuggly'.' That last word was almost a snarl, and Andrew felt himself flinch.

'So I tried that, too. But I couldn't do it...I mean...' she sighed, pushing the hair back out of her eyes, sighing in frustration. 'Remember what I told you when you told me this stuff?'

­Andrew nodded.

­­­

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

'Aren't I...doing enough?' Tammy asked, a look of confusion on her face.

'No! No, it's not that...it's more that you're doing it the wrong way...' Andrew immediately regretted his words, seeing his wife's expression turn sour.

'No! I mean...I...I think maybe I didn't really explain what I want, not properly. It's not just the baby stuff, dressing up and that...I want...' he swallowed, hesitant.

'Well...I want it to be more...um...innocent? Like...like...I was a rea...' he stopped himself. 'Like, more snuggly? You know? Maybe some...cuddles...at bedt- at night time...I'd like to be, um...held...sometimes...'

Tammy stared at him as if he had just sprouted a third head.

'So...you want me to be like your real mother?'

'No!'

'As if you were a real baby, right?'

'I...No...I mean...it's not like you're my real mother...I...I just want you to...'

'To what? Look after you? Like an infant?' Tammy demanded, her voice even.

'I...I...in a way...yes...I just don't want it to always be so...sexual...'

Tammy sighed. There was a silence before she finally spoke.

'Okay. Look. This is pretty weird to me. I'm not comfortable with it. But I love you, Andrew. I always will,' she looked up as she spoke, taking Andrew's hand in her own. 'But I don't know how to deal with this. I don't think I can...do that. I'm sorry.'

'Oh.' replied Andrew, simply. He hated himself at that moment. If he'd been honest from the beginning, maybe none of this would have happened.

'But,' Tammy started, nibbling her lip. 'BUT. I'd like to be okay with it. So...You can do something...something small...I don't know, you could wear a nappy to bed. And I'll try to get more comfy with the idea.'

Andrew's heart leapt. Everything was going to be okay.

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

Andrew's heart sank. Everything was going wrong.

But Tammy wasn't done yet...

'I tried so hard to...to accept this. I started off like...like it was no big deal, remember? I used to tease you and you'd smile and for a bit, I thought maybe I could be okay with it. But then, then you started to...I don't know. Resent me? You pulled away. It wasn't enough for you. And maybe I pulled away, too. It hurt to see you wanting me to give you something I wouldn't, couldn't give you. It hurt to see you shut me out because I couldn't understand. So...now we're here...'

'Where is here?' Andrew said, asking, for the second time that night, a question which he really didn't feel he needed to ask, but if he didn't ask it, he knew it would appear he didn't care.

'Here? Here is...my husband wants to be treated like a baby...NON sexually...and I can't cope with it,’ she paused, seemingly thinking hard about something. Her mouth opened again, this time drawing out the sound of one little word, waiting for a statement to follow it.

‘So….’

Andrew swallowed. He waited for the crushing blow. He didn’t know what she would say, but he could guess.

‘So you can’t wear diapers anymore around me…’

‘So I don’t want diapers in the house anymore…’

‘So I don’t love him anymore….’

‘So I /can’t/ love him anymore, and I think we need to get a divorce…’

He knew whatever was said next would change their relationship forever. He was about to lose something, he didn’t know what exactly, but he also knew life would be a lot harder without him. He looked up at her with grim determination, resigned to whatever awful things came out of her mouth next.

‘So…’ she began again, and Andrew felt himself stiffen, worry making his heart pound.

‘So I think we need to find him…find you…someone who can.’

Andrew gawped at her. That wasn’t what he’d been expecting at all. What was she saying? Was she leaving him? She must be… she was just being the wonderful woman she always had been, willing to help him find a more ‘appropriate�� mate, someone who’d be happy to indulge him. He felt his eyes sting a little as tears formed, before, in the silence, another possibility occurred to him.

She’d been watching him closely, and seemed to notice as a flash of something, hope, realization maybe, passed across his face. He addressed her again, voice shaky.

‘Do you mea-‘ he was cut off abruptly.

‘I mean, just someone to do that for you, you know?’ Tammy explained, her voice emphasizing the word ‘that’ in a way that made it clear she found ‘that’ distasteful. ‘I…no sex. I’m not leaving you. I love you, I always will, I think. I hope. I just…I don’t know what to do. I’m scared, Andrew. And…I know this is so, so important to you. I see it, Andy, I see how much you want it…’

It’s her turn to look scared now, her eyes filled with tears, rolling freely down her cheeks. She’s shivering, but it’s not cold. Wordlessly, Andrew embraced her, his own manly sob joining her small, squeaking ones, her voice cracking as she tried to go on.

‘I…I don’t want to lose you…I’m…I wanted so badly to m…make you happy, but I CAN’T. I’m a horrible, awful wife. I’m a fuck-up. I…I don’t know why you married me!’ she howls, throwing herself into Andrew’s chest, his arms soothing her, rubbing her back, shh-ing her like you would a crying child. A tiny smile formed on his lips for a moment, as he considered the role reversal.

But it was soon replaced by another kind of smile, the kind that happens when you realize maybe you’re not alone, that your partner is just as afraid of what’s happening as you. That he or she is afraid of the exact same things. It was a tearful, almost regret-filled smile.

‘If only we’d talked about this sooner…’

He shook his head, clearing his mind. Right now, he had to help Tammy feel better.

‘Ohh…oh hun…’ he said, his own voice wavering, fighting back another hard sob. ‘Shhh… you know, I’ve been worried about the same thing. I thought I was an awful husband. I wondered why you wanted to be with me. I didn’t understand. I thought…just now, you were going to leave me…’

Tammy jerked back, head snapping upwards to look at him, a look of something…hurt, Andrew decides. Hurt he’d think she would do that. Her face pink and flushed, her cheeks damp with too many tears.

‘Never,’ She retorted, instantly, and then she was back in his arms, crying anew. ‘Never…I…I NEVER want to lose you…’

Andrew smiled again, sighing, a little in relief. Of course, given her earlier outburst, he already knew that…but it was lovely to have confirmation.

‘I know Tam, I really do. Now, at least. But I want to let you know, I love you too. I don’t think you’re an awful wife…you’ve been so understanding. Please, don’t think I don’t love you, don’t think I resent you, or hate you or think ANYTHING bad about you, after you’ve tried so hard to fulfill me and my selfish, perverted desires.’

He felt her shaking her head, disagreeing, with the part about her trying so hard, or the part about his desires being perverted, or both, or something else…he wasn’t sure. It didn’t matter at that moment.

‘So I’m just telling you, no matter what, I’ll love you. I’d have loved you even if you said I could never wear another diaper. I’d have loved you even if you told me you’d stopped loving me. I don’t think I’d be able to stop myself…’

Tammy’s cheeks turned a little pinker, her sobs dying down.

‘Are you sure?’ she asks, not moving to look at him.

‘Positive,’ he says, more confident now. ‘Do you feel better now?’

‘Yes.’

‘Are you ready to talk about…it?’

‘…Yes.’

There was a pause as Tammy pulled away, slowly, reluctantly, so she could look at him. She smiled, her eyes wandering over him, as if appreciating him newly. When she reached the diaper her expression clouded, eyes flitting back up to his, as if just remembering they had something else to discuss now.

‘So…do you mean it?’ Andrew asked, anxiously.

‘Yes.’

He looked unconvinced, so Tammy continued.

‘I don’t have a problem with it. I really don’t. I’ve been thinking about it for a while, an-‘

‘Why didn’t you ask me before?’

‘Wh-what?’

‘Why didn’t you ask me before?’ Andrew repeated, his tone not demanding or forceful, but genuinely curious.

‘I…well…’ Tammy looked away, embarrassed. ‘I was scared…’

‘Why?’

‘Well…first I was worried you’d say no, because she wouldn’t be me, and you wouldn’t be able to feel anything with her. And if you said no, I’d be out of options. I don’t know what would h-happen if…’ her voice broke again, eyes swimming with tears. Andrew frowned slightly.

‘What else?’

‘I was afraid if you said yes, you would love her...too much. You’d leave me. Because you don’t love me at all, not anymore…how could you? I mean-‘

Andrew squeezed her hand suddenly, shaking his head, stopping her from working herself up again.

‘Not true, love. I want you. I love you. I’m not going to replace you. Even if I agree to this, I promise,nobody’ll never replace you…are you sure you’re okay with this?’

Tammy nodded.

‘Yes.’

‘What…sort of things would she, uh, do?’

‘I don’t know,’ Tammy admitted, seeming to shrink back a little. ‘I mean…change you? Give you bottles…pacifiers…play with you like a real baby.’

Andrew felt his heart flutter twice; once at the prospect of a genuine Mommy in his life, after so long… and once at the sudden feeling of utter love for Tammy that swept over him. ‘The ideal woman…’ he thought, snorting somewhere inside his head at how corny that was.

‘Would I be allowed to call her Mo…’ Andrew blushed, dropping his voice to a whisper.

‘Mommy?’ he finished, waiting.

‘Yes. Of course. I mean, that’s what you want, right? A Mommy? For the…the baby inside you? Just no sexual stuff. Please. I need that from you.’

Andrew nodded unhesitatingly. The thought of having sex with another woman (beyond occasional fantasies) had never even crossed his mind. He was missing an emotional, platonic, maternal bond, not a passionate sexual one.

They both smiled a moment, almost in triumph. They were still together. This might just work out.

‘So…’ Tammy started, grinning now.

‘So…’ Repeated Andrew, a playful smirk joining hers. ‘What do we do now?’

‘Now? Now we sleep. I’m so tired. I just want to be held. I’m so…worn out…’ she leant forwards again, nuzzling his chest, smiling softly. She sighed, a long, happy sigh, as if a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

‘Okay…do…you want me to go change before we-‘

‘No. I don’t want you to leave.’

Her tone was demanding that time, and Andrew chuckled. She wriggled, pulling the covers out from under them both, as they each shuffled and worked to lie down, his arms still wrapped around her. Their heads reaching the pillows, Tammy smiled wearily, shifting away a little, finding her husband’s body too warm for comfort. He leaned forwards and kissed her on the forehead.

‘Goodnight Tammy…’

‘Goodnight…’ she hesitated, wondering if she was really going to say this, worrying he’d take it the wrong way. She stopped hesitating.

‘Baby,’ she added, one hand slipping down and squeezing the soggy bulge of his diaper. She watched his face for a reaction.

Andrew blushed a little as she withdrew her hand.

It was a simple, loving gesture. A show of acceptance.

It hadn’t meant anything else. She wasn’t going to baby him. She didn’t see him that way. She didn’t want to be ‘Mommy’. She was his wife, and she was just showing how much she cared, how safe he was with her, how much she truly wanted him to be happy, even in this.

At that moment, that was all that Andrew needed.

He lifted his hand to squeeze her retreating one, smiling.

‘Thanks,’ he said, earnestly.

With that, she sighed slightly and turned around, snuggling into him backwards. Tomorrow, she thought, was sure to be a very interesting day.

[kiwriteswords]

THE WAY YOU WRITE HOTCH IS ASDFGHJKL, and it makes me wanna scream because I love him so much lol. Can I request "Using pet names" drabble prompt with shy!reader? <3

Hi!! Thank you!!! Thanks so much for requesting a short drabble! I had so much fun writing this one! I hope you enjoy!

Drabble Prompts | Other Writing | Ao3

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Shy!Fem!Reader!

Word Count: 2k

Rating: Everyone

TW: None!

I find myself runnin' home to your sweet nothings

It’s you who lets a pet name slip out the first time. 

The warm, aromatic scent of freshly brewed coffee filled the air as you and Aaron Hotchner sat across from each other at your favorite corner café. It wasn’t often that the two of you found time for a peaceful moment away from the intensity of the BAU, but today, you both managed to sneak out for a late lunch. The soft hum of conversation around you created a cozy atmosphere, making you feel more relaxed than usual.

You sipped your cappuccino, smiling softly as you watched Aaron flip through the menu. He had a slight furrow in his brow, clearly debating over what to order, which made you smile. The rare moments where he looked just like any other person—calm, laid back, and not buried under mountains of paperwork or the weight of cases—made you appreciate these quiet times even more.

“What are you thinking?” you asked, tilting your head as you glanced over the options yourself. “The sandwich you always get?”

Aaron looked up from the menu, his lips curling into a small, amused smile. “Am I that predictable?”

“Maybe a little,” you teased, feeling more comfortable in the easy, casual environment.

He chuckled, setting the menu down. “I suppose I do tend to stick to what I know. What about you?”

You shrugged, staring down at the menu, though you had already decided. “Probably the soup. It’s always good here.”

Aaron nodded, and as you both settled on your orders, the conversation flowed easily. It always did with him, despite the butterflies you couldn’t help but feel when you were around him. Even though you were naturally shy, there was something about Hotch that always made you feel at ease, even if his quiet intensity sometimes made your heart race.

After the waitress took your order and left, you leaned back in your chair, watching the way Aaron absentmindedly tapped his fingers on the table. It was one of his subtle habits that you had grown to notice. It was like he always had to be doing something—thinking, analyzing—even in the most relaxed moments. But now, there was a softness in his expression that made you feel warm inside.

“I’m glad we could get out today,” you said quietly, smiling. “It’s nice to just… take a break with you.”

His eyes softened as he looked at you, his voice just as gentle when he replied, “I’m glad too. We don’t get to do this nearly enough.”

Your heart fluttered at the way he said it, like these moments meant just as much to him as they did to you. There was a calmness in his presence that you’d come to cherish. You felt safe, cared for, even in the little things, like how he always made sure your coffee was topped up before getting his own or how he positioned himself in a way that made you feel like the world could disappear for a while.

Before you could think, the words slipped out: “You’re sweet, you know that, babe?”

The second the word left your lips, you froze. Your eyes widened slightly, and your hand came up to cover your mouth in surprise. You hadn’t meant to say it—not “babe.” It wasn’t a word you had ever used with him before, and certainly not in public. It just slipped out, so naturally, as if it had been sitting there, waiting to make its debut.

You braced yourself for his reaction, your cheeks already turning pink from embarrassment, but when you looked up, you were met with a look of pure amusement on Aaron’s face.

“Babe?” he repeated, arching an eyebrow as a slow, teasing smile spread across his lips. His voice was filled with warmth and playfulness. “Did I just hear that right?”

You felt your face heat up, but you weren’t exactly embarrassed, just a little flustered by how easily the word had slipped. “I, uh… I didn’t mean—well, I did, but…”

Aaron chuckled, leaning forward slightly, his eyes dancing with amusement. “No need to backtrack now,” he teased. “I have to admit, I didn’t see that one coming.”

You pressed your lips together, trying to hide the shy smile threatening to spill out. “I guess it just… slipped out.”

“Slipped out, huh?” He rested his chin in his hand, watching you with that signature smirk of his. “I think I like it.”

“Really?” You blinked, surprised by his reaction.

“Yeah,” he said, leaning back in his chair, clearly enjoying your flustered state. “It’s got a nice ring to it. But I have to say, I wasn’t expecting you to be the one to start with the pet names.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Well, I guess there’s a first for everything.”

Aaron’s gaze softened as he reached across the table and gently placed his hand over yours. His thumb brushed lightly against your knuckles, his touch warm and reassuring. “You don’t need to be so shy about it,” he said, his voice gentle. “I think it’s cute.”

Your blush deepened at his words, but this time, you didn’t shy away. “I’m not shy… just cautious,” you said, feeling more playful than usual.

He chuckled again, the sound deep and soothing. “Well, I’d like to hear it again sometime… babe.” He teased further. 

The way he said the word sent a wave of warmth through you, and you found yourself grinning, unable to contain it any longer. “I think I can manage that.”

The teasing smile never left his face as he held your gaze. “Good, because I think you’re stuck with it now.”

You laughed, feeling more comfortable and at ease than ever. “And what about you?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. “Are you going to start calling me pet names too?”

Aaron’s expression softened as he considered it for a moment, then leaned in a little closer. “I think I can manage that,” he said, his voice low and affectionate. “How about ‘sweetheart’? Or maybe ‘honey’? I’ve got a few in mind.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, unable to hide the smile spreading across your face. “I guess I can live with that.”

“Good,” he said with a satisfied smile, giving your hand one more gentle squeeze. “Because I plan on using them a lot.”

It wasn’t soon after that, that Aaron began using them more regularly. Something about hearing him say these endearing names still managed to put butterflies in your stomach.

Tonight, the BAU office was quiet. The bustling activity of the day had finally settled down, and most of the team had left for the night. Aaron Hotchner sat at his desk, the soft glow of his desk lamp illuminating the pile of paperwork he still needed to get through. His focus wavered as he heard a familiar soft knock at his door.

“Come in,” his deep voice called, calm yet commanding, as always.

You peeked your head in, offering a small, shy smile as your eyes met his. You had been working late as well, trying to tie up loose ends from the case you’d just closed. But it wasn’t the case that brought you to his office. It was him.

“Hi,” you said softly, stepping inside and closing the door gently behind you.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Aaron replied, a warmth spreading through his tone that he only ever used with you. It was one of those things that made your heart flutter, even after all this time together. “What are you still doing here?”

You shrugged, walking over to him as you wrung your hands nervously. You never quite got used to how he looked at you, that mixture of care and admiration, like you were the only person in the world when he set his eyes on you.

“I just... wanted to see you before I left,” you murmured, standing in front of his desk. “And I figured you’d still be here working.”

Aaron’s lips curved into a small smile as he leaned back in his chair, his hand extending toward you. “C’mere, honey.”

You took his hand, your heart speeding up at the simple touch, and he gently pulled you into his lap. You blushed, settling into the familiar warmth of his embrace as his arms wrapped securely around you. The door was closed, and you were alone with him—one of the rare moments when you didn’t have to worry about anyone seeing or the walls he kept up as the BAU’s stoic leader.

“You work too hard,” you whispered softly, leaning your head against his shoulder. “You need to rest.”

“I could say the same thing about you,” he replied, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “You’re always looking after me, aren’t you?”

“I try,” you giggled, your shyness melting away a little in his presence. “Someone has to.”

His thumb stroked gently along your arm, and he kissed the top of your head again, this time lingering just a bit longer. “My sweet girl,” he whispered against your hair, his voice low and affectionate.

The pet name--your favorite pet name--sent a rush of warmth through you, making you hide your face against his neck as your cheeks burned. Aaron chuckled softly, clearly amused by your reaction.

“You’re so cute when you blush,” he said quietly, his hand lifting to cup your cheek. “I told you I planned on using these names a lot,” There was a comfortable pause,  “How did I get so lucky to have you in my life?”

Your heart swelled at his words, and you tilted your head slightly to meet his gaze. Even after everything you’d been through together—the cases, the danger, the long nights—he always found a way to make you feel like you were the most important thing in his world.

“I think I’m the lucky one,” you admitted shyly, your fingers tracing small patterns on his chest. “You’ve always been there for me, Hotch.”

“Hey,” he interrupted gently, his fingers lifting your chin so that you were looking into his warm brown eyes. “What did I tell you about that? Call me Aaron when we’re like this.”

“Aaron,” you corrected with a small smile, loving how his name sounded on your lips in these moments.

“That’s better,” he whispered, his lips brushing lightly against yours. “My sweet girl.”

You melted into the kiss, your hands sliding up to rest on his shoulders as you felt the familiar comfort and safety of being in his arms. Aaron’s kiss was soft and gentle, his way of showing you how much he cared without words. When he finally pulled away, his forehead rested against yours, and you could feel the steady rhythm of his breathing as he held you close.

“I love you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible but filled with sincerity.

“I love you too, sweetheart,” he replied without hesitation, the words leaving his lips easily now after everything you’d been through together. “Always.”

You smiled against his lips as he kissed you once more, longer this time, savoring the peaceful moment between you. There were no worries here, no cases or paperwork—just the two of you, wrapped up in each other and the sweet nothings that passed between you.

In his arms, you felt like you were home. And with him calling you all those sweet names, you knew this was exactly where you were meant to be.

Tag List

[mondaymelon]

₊˚ෆ 𝐒𝐍𝐎𝐖𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐅𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 | lyney, neuvillette, wriothelsey x gn!reader

( i am fully aware snowfelt is not a word. shhhh just please. ignore it. let's have another silly year together, yeah? )

⤷ they confess to you! reader has liked them for a while beforehand, fluff to start off the year ~ (psps i kn o w its the 23rd but writer's block whammied me against a wall and held me hostage for that time so. its really not my fault /lh)

[ in the dying light of fireglow, hands intertwined below a blanket, they turn to gaze into your eyes, speaking three words... ]

"Cold, are we? Shall I warm you up?"

Ah, but the playful grin tugging at LYNEY's lips already provides you with a sufficient, kindled warmth nestled deep into your chest. The snow cascading beyond the windows, curtains half-drawn over the glass, revealed the picturesque scenery, the land that had grown familiar to you dusted with white… your thoughts were dispersed with a light shake of your head just as the winter breeze swept over the snow. 

The male smiles as you nudge yourself closer to his side, and with a swift snap of his fingers, sparks heat in the fireplace, a blaze whose flames licked the bricks of its ensnarement. Unfair, really, simply unfair, how with such an effortless movement he swept you into your arms, reddened your already flushed, cold-bitten cheeks. “Warm yet?”

“...Too warm,” you manage a complaint, voice barely audible with how tightly you were pressed against him. “You’re suffocating me, Lyney.” At your words, his seemingly unconscious vice-like grip loosened, allowing you a breath. 

“Better?”

“Better.”

The world was quiet. Silent, for not even the wind dared utter a noise. No, that couldn’t be true, for if that were the case, then what were you to make of the persistent flutter of your heart? It was the way his gaze drunk you in that allowed you to dream of such a misunderstanding that he might share the sentiment, with the sight of you cuddled tightly in his arms, your slightly messy hair after he had ruffled it and the rosy cheeks that could possibly bring the most minuscule warmth to his face. 

“Thank you.” Your voice was quiet, it felt small, too small for your liking. Why were you even thanking him? What had he done for you? A lot. Simply too many to count. With his playful demeanor, certainly someone like you wouldn’t be well suited to him. Perhaps it was just a haphazard coincidence that allowed the two of you to meet, or perhaps just a cruel twist of fate that had decided to toy with your heart before discarding it. Either way, these feelings are safeguarded, nestled along with the warmth in your chest… they were quiet.

“For what?” Lyney’s jest of a smile tugged at his lips. “Why, have you finally realized that I’m quite the respectable person after all this time?”

“No,” you playfully hit his chest. Ever since the first encounter, the male had chased after you with reckless abandon, somehow managing to find you in just about any situation you were in. Watering the flowers that lined the streets, discussing work matters with the civilians, he’d appear out of thin air beside you, almost like magic. With a boyish grin on his face and a word or two whispered into your ear, “So this is where you were~” ...You shook your head, ears only growing redder at fortunate past thoughts. “You still remain a stalker, it’d be foolish to hope for anything more.” 

To hope for something more… what a hypocrite, you were. Your own words burned your tongue, the consequence of such a sin.

“Is it wrong to hope?” Lyney’s smile remained, but his tone grew serious. The faint twinkles that shone in his lavender eyes evidently bore his “wrongful” hope. “To wish that perhaps one day, I’ll mean more than just a ‘stalker’ to you?”

Your breath hitched. Say, didn’t these words… sound familiar? Didn’t they resemble lines read from those light novels from Inazuma, covers decorated with roses and sparkles? “Lyney, you-”

“I love you.”

Your words have escaped you. Countless, countless words. Each of them grow wings and flit away. 

“Ah, would it be too cliché to call it a love at first sight?” Lyney let loose a sigh, grinning sheepishly with a shake of his head. “But that was exactly what it was. The second I saw you… my, how generic I sound. Would it be too much to stomach if it was from that moment that I knew?” He paused, pursing his lips. They pressed into a tight line. When he spoke again, his voice was quieter. “I won’t be hopeful. I know better than that, and you’ve said it yourself. Let’s just… would I go too far if I wished to remain by your side? Not as a lover, surely, but a companion, or a mere acquaintance-”

“Lyney.”

His name is familiar in your mouth. It rests easy on the tongue.

“As a lover. That. That’s what… I want.”

The curve of his lips says well enough before he even opens them.

“Then, as your lover… may I kiss you?” ₊˚ෆ

“Are you feeling alright?”

His words were soft against the cold air, and NEUVILLETTE’s pale-eyed gaze even softer. Fontaine had had its first taste of snow, and with it came its cold finger tips that thoroughly dusted whatever it touched, the streets and tops of buildings painted a brilliant white.

“Yes, it’s just… Aren’t you cold like this?” The male, upon seeing you give the slightest shiver at the sudden drop in temperature, had immediately rushed over and taken off his coat for you to wear instead, where it was now draped comfortably over your shoulders. Warm, and it carried his scent. “I’d feel bad if you were to feel unwell because of me, so please, take it back?”

“Now, that’s something I simply can’t do,” His lips drew the slightest smile, a rare sight you were delighted to witness - the way his eyes crinkled at their corners and twinkled all the more was a pleasant one to experience indeed. “I’ll be fine, I can assure you. It’d take more than just a winter breeze to incapacitate me.”

You furrowed your brows, puffing out your cold-flushed cheeks before making a cross with your arms. “Nope, no can do! We’re heading back to my place, and I’ll brew some hot tea. No complaints, we’re going!” Before the man could utter another word, presumably a word of protest, you took him by his gloved hand and started running forwards. Full well, you knew Neuvillette was certainly at a better physique than you were, but you really just needed an excuse to hold his hand.

Why, exactly? The answer was rather simple.

While you weren’t enamored with him to begin with… after all, how could one be like that towards the respectable iudex of Fontaine, your curiosity got the better of you the moment you realized the stoic man suspiciously resembled one of Fontaine’s many creatures, the otter. The colors, the mannerisms, truly, it all paired up in an uncanny fashion. Somehow, along the line of approaching and getting to know him, you had caught feelings. It was almost funny, how they could sneak up on you like that while your guard was down. Except, now that you had them, what were you supposed to confess? “I started to like you when I realized you were practically an otter, love!”...Ugh, how embarrassing would that be? Imagining his handsome features scrunched with displeasure at your offense is one thing about Neuvillette you wished not to behold.

"...Ahem." Curses, you had been holding his hand for far too long to just laugh it off. You blinked yourself out of your past reminiscence, finding yourself faced with a rather concerned Neuvillette. "Apologies, you weren't responding, so..."

"No matter, are we here already?" You coughed into your first awkwardly, quickly letting go of Neuvillette's hand, however warm his touch may be. Unlocking the door, you swiftly swung it open, letting Neuvillette enter and then shutting it behind you. If you’d known that he’d be coming over - you had unconsciously invited him to your residence - you would’ve cleaned the space up a bit more. Nothing you could do about it now, you supposed. “There’s nothing special, you can make yourself at home while I go fetch some refreshments for us.”

“There’s no need for that.” Neuvillette held up a hand to stop you. “I’m quite alright, and if anything, I’d be delighted if you allowed me to brew your tea for you.”

“What? No, you’re my guest, you shouldn’t possibly-!”

“Ah ah, no complaints. I held mine back, so you should do the same, no?” Great, since when had he started getting clever with his words? “What I need you to do is to go get a blanket and sit at the fireplace. Where do you keep the tea?”

You let out a begrudging sigh. “Fifth cabinet.”

“Thank you.” You did as he asked with less than an enthusiastic self, and managed to light the fireplace before Neuvillette returned from the kitchen, carrying a tray that held two cups and a steaming teapot.

You raised an eyebrow at him as you took your cup, warm to the touch. “My, I didn’t expect you to have any complaints, dear Sir Iudex of Fontaine.”

“...Complaint? Ah,” Neuvillette’s eyes rounded when he realized what conversation you were referring to. “Hm, it’s rather embarrassing to say, however… well, since it was a precious day off, I figured I’d take you somewhere special, to the Opera House or wherever, but instead I’m here interfering in your home… it’s certainly not ideal, is it? My apologies.”

There was a moment of silence, accompanied by the crackle of flames. “Archons, is that what you were thinking with such a downcast expression?” You laughed, seeing his expression brighten. He was perhaps a little too predictable. “I don’t mind, Neuvillette. I was the one who invited you here, so there’s no need for you to feel ashamed that you accepted it. Besides…” you inched closer to him, grinning. “Every moment with you is special enough, it doesn’t take somewhere ‘special’ to make it so, hm?”

The man remained silent. Had you gone too far with your reassurance? His pale cheeks were flushed, had he become so enraged that his face had gone red? Certainly not, for he whispered your words like an echo. “A special moment, you say?” A tilt of your head was enough of a response. “Then…”

“I love you.”

“...Pardon?” The smile on your face slipped, and your ears rung with the gravity of his words. Perhaps you had grown so desperate that the only way to appease that mind of yours was to form auditory hallucinations? You had surely dropped to new, unprecedented lows.

“I love you.”

There’s just something about that gaze of his that makes you want to cry in his arms. Something about it that makes you want to be held by him, to feel the warmth that he holds in the way he simply looks at you, to bask in it like sunlight, to feel loved.

“I love..”

“There’s no need to say it again, Neuvillette.” His face falls, and his beautifully damned eyes grow wide. “I heard it the first time.” You can sense that he’s bracing himself for a response, with the way the smile on his lips draws tight and his stance grows rigid. “To think that you’d be the one confessing to me, why, this was certainly not the vision I had imagined a thousand times over in my head.”

You can see the hope in his eyes. You would never dare crush it, your heart beats for him. “I love you, Neuvillette, so repeat it just one more time, would you?”

And just like that, he melts in your arms.

“Yes, darling. I love you too.” ₊˚ෆ

“My, I didn’t expect to see you here!”

Standing up from his desk, WRIOTHESLEY’s eyes are bright with excitement. 

“So surprised, aren’t you?” You lean on his doorway with a fond smile as he embraces you in a quick hug. You smile as he draws back, “Why, am I not allowed to visit the poor duke, cooped up here with nothing but paperwork to satisfy his boredom?”

Your words were true, and they’d struck a note inside him. The Fortress of Meropide was quiet, almost too quiet these days. Sure, there was the persistent, eternal sound of turning gears and bursts of steam, and the never-ending crinkle of paper under his hands, but with most of the prisoners turning in a little earlier due to the cold, the hallways that were usually filled with chatter that he’d proclaim as “distracting” were no more. Monotonous was the crackle of the flames in the fireplace, but the sound of your eager footsteps rounding the hallways was a welcome sound indeed.

“Certainly not, I wouldn’t lie through my teeth and say that your presence is unwelcome.” His lips were curled upwards in a grin, his husky voice bearing the melody of delight. 

“I’d imagine.” That sneaky smile on your face is almost alluring in the pale light. “Stuck in this office of yours doing tedious tasks for the foreseeable future is not the ideal form of entertainment for most Fontainions.” 

A scoff, a playful one. “Then, have you come to help me with said paperwork?”

The shake of your head was instant, so much so that the man could’ve sworn it came out of instinct. “Most definitely not, Wrio. It’s rather unfortunate to say, however…” You let out a great sigh, one foreboding terrible news. Even your eyes began to tear up at their corners, and your expression became dramatically crestfallen. “I’m afraid this empty head of mine has suddenly become illiterate!” 

Wriothesley swallowed a laugh that almost dared surface and instead feigned a dramatic gasp, a hand over his mouth that had widened with shock. “Oh, dearest me! What a predicament… Then, what have you come to visit me for, pray tell? To sit and stare at me?”

You shrugged your shoulders, expression blank. “To be fair, I don’t exactly know either. I wanted to see you, and my feet just brought me here.” It wasn’t a complete truth, but not exactly a lie either. You had wanted to see him - partially to admire his strikingly handsome features, but also just to, well, exist in his presence. As much as he’d deny it, Wriothesley hated the idea of being apart from you, and his unchanging situation as the duke of the Fortress of Meropide didn’t aid that information. That, and the fact that ever since you had seen him simply strolling through the city, the slightest wind ruffling his dark locks and that sharp gaze of his staring ahead of him, you’d been utterly captured. While clichés weren’t exactly your forte, you had to admit that he was a case of “love at first sight”. And while you had fallen for his looks, his disposition wasn’t something to simply brush aside. Funniest thing? He’d been the one to approach you, striking up a conversation while you were merely having a drink at a nearby cafe, asking if you’d seen a certain wig-wearing dog.

“Excuse me, I’m so sorry to bother you, but have you seen a dog around here? He has a top hat, brightly colored hair, is wearing a suit covered in stickers…”

After joining him on the chase around just about the entirety of Fontaine, the two of you managed to find the missing dog, who was actually a stray being taken care of by a melusine Wriothesley was familiar with, and return it. One thing led to another, and the two of you grew from strangers, acquaintances, and now to friends. Surely, it’d be terrible to wish for something more, wouldn’t it?

“Just tell me you missed me.” Wriothesley’s grin had returned, and he chuckled. “You’re not doing the greatest job of hiding it.”

“So what if I missed you?” You pouted, finally moving past the man and into the office, eyeing the papers on his desk before making yourself comfortable next to the fire. “And who said I was hiding it, dear duke?”

Wriothesley paused for a beat before continuing in his regular fashion. “You’re being rather bold today, aren’t you? Your words… they’re making it easy to misunderstand.”

“Misunderstand all you want, does it matter?”

“Yes, it does.”

“N-”

“Let’s stop speaking in riddles. Make yourself clear, hm? What’re you trying to pull with all these questions?” Wriothesley crossed his arms over his chest, leaning closer. “What, are you trying to be a flirt?”

“Aaaand if I am?” You smiled at his actions, not exactly sure what was spurring you onwards. 

“...Damnit, you… archons, you just won’t listen, will you? No matter, it just makes things easier for me. Hey, flirt, you won’t get all flustered if I say this then, yeah?”

“Say what-”

“I love you.”

That was certainly a way to catch someone off guard. “... the fuck-”

“No need to react that badly, all right?” Wriothesley let out a sigh of defeat, leaning his head against the wall as he sat down next to you. “I didn’t say it for the sake of saying it. It’s true. I’ve been wanting to tell you for some time now, but..” He chuckled, a laugh that was void of what a laugh should have. “I’m rather a coward.”

“I-I didn’t mean to answer like that, you just caught me by surprise-” You shook your head, cursing at yourself for sounding so pathetic, with your trembling voice and words that stuttered every syllable. “...And by your definition…” You drew your knees closer to yourself, hugging them to your body. “I’m a coward as well.”

It takes him the count of three to respond, eyes blown wide. “...Wait, you-” The flush on his face was undeniable.

“I like you too, Wrio.”

“Archons, I… give me a moment. I’ve been wanting to hear that for so long, I think my heart has stopped beating.” ₊˚ෆ

(a/n) greetings my beloved melons. hello. ive risen from my grave to presumably and hopefully be alive for the next couple months. my reqs are all still full so i will be tryna get through em but at the same time i will be doing self indulgent fics. so udhaofjsdlf yeahd ahhahahahaa thats pretty much it on daily melon talk im going to answer my plethora of asks tomorrow because i know your dashboard wont be able to handle it if i post this and then answer 15 miillion asks. you are ever so welcome. also i always hate the way i write wriothelsey and this time was no exception this was so painful blegh ajlfksdmc

໒꒱ || ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ (open! send an ask or a comment ♡) : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @achlysis, @swivy123, @scara-is-my-wife, @lupicalbestwolf, @justyoureader, @fiannee, @aether-darling 

reblogs are appreciated! line up for a smooch. mwah!!

[yuellii]

3 + 1

01. The first time you’ve ever seen Neuvillette smile was one forced upon him by Furina, both her thumbs pulling at the edges of his mouth like a playful child and her mean grandfather.

His brows were furrowed, clearly holding some distress and confusion at the Hydro Archons antics.

You were just passing by the offices in this moment, a stack of papers in your hands as you happened to catch a glimpse of the Chief Justice and your Archon. Such a silly sight, but in the end, you really had to work on these papers.

02. The second time you’ve ever seen Neuvillette smile must’ve been a trick of the light. So slight and practically invisible, that you still question if you ever saw it at all.

It was one morning where he came in late to the offices, and on this particular morning you also happened to get a free extra coffee. You couldn’t finish it, so it was only natural in your conscious to walk into his office and hand it to him. He might’ve smiled—you liked to think that he did—but he was definitely pleasant with his appreciative words when you placed it on his desk.

A quiet little “Thank you” with that honeyed tone of his was certainly warming, but you were much more interested in the slight curve of his lip.

03. The third time you’ve ever seen Neuvillette smile was quiet amazing.

You never knew he could smile so beautifully, but you also weren’t too surprised when it was down to a Melusine. Those little workers loved him like a father, and you could certainly see why now. So gentle and ethereal—you never knew your boss could look like this. Not when the rest of Fontaine thinks otherwise.

Perhaps you were just more surprised to be in his presence. Did you think he’d be partial to hiding his smile from you? Well, certainly that was not the case when he displayed such an expression for you to stare at and see.

And with the most serene of voices you’ve ever heard from him, he spoke nicely to the Melusine with a tranquil ricochet that haunted your head for days.

“Thank you for the reminder,” he told her, still holding that smile. “I’ll be sure to remember it later.” And then his hand reached down to pat her little head between her ears, and it felt like you just saw something sacred. How kind.

04. The fourth time you’ve ever seen Neuvillette smile was…

Well, it was to you.

“It’s cold out here, Monsieur.”

His mouth was slightly agape with a surprise that you found him standing here. Here, in this pouring rain. Here, clothes drenched on a Tuesday morning when the both of you should be in the office by now. And here, with your umbrella over his head. “You might catch a fever,” you spoke upon his silence.

And here, once more, was when his headspace felt elevated at the feel of your hand press against his forehead, the coldness swirling with the nausea of the rapid rainfall. There was an odd comfort in there, one that had his body leaning closer under the umbrella. “You should be at work,” he told you, albeit not as stern as he would’ve liked. The sight of him was pitying, especially with the way his head tipped down just to feel more of your hand.

“You as well,” you muttered at him. “You’ve been coming in later as of recent; Has the rain been distracting you?”

He sighs into the comfort of your worried words. There’s a sudden warmth in the air despite the rain, and it feels as if the downpour suddenly stops—in his head, at least. It’s clear, and it’s laughable. How embarrassing for him to be seen like this by you.

And in the most confusingly human way possible, his body suddenly reacts, and he smiles at you. It’s humorous all of a sudden: the way he’s standing here alone in the rain, late for work. And how you’re also standing here, and how you probably think he’s so weird. It’s humiliating in such a silly way, he can’t help the joy he feels at your presence.

You’re clearly flabbergasted, and he can’t quite blame you. But when he brushes it all off, saying, “It’s nothing. Let’s head to the office now, shall we?” — All with a smile on his face, mind you. Then maybe this rainstorm might end so soon.

// not proofread i literally wrote this during my break i have to go to class like right NOW OUARGRHRHHH

[tragedybunny]

Ok, this is gonna sound weird but... So there's this thing that some people do when they are with their SO, where they just bite them? Not real actual teeth-sinking biting, tho, more like mock biting (I think it's called playful aggression). Can we have your take on how Astarion would react to it?

So, mock biting is a thing I do frequently with my SO. It's soothing and I only do it to one person in this whole world because I have to be 100% comfortable with them. The below drabble is just pretty much based on my life. But I do think I've got Astarion's reaction truthfully.

Love Bites - Astarion x GN!Reader

Reader gets to nibble on Astarion for once.

The night was relatively peaceful. Well, as peaceful as it could get knowing there was an Elder Brain headed toward Baldur’s Gate being controlled by Chosen of the Dead Three. And that if he failed to usurp Cazador, he’d be banished back into the darkness when it was defeated. When, not if, he was certain you would prevail, nothing seemed to be able to stop you once you’d made up your mind. Even when it came to loving a disaster such as himself. 

Stealing a glance over the edge of the book he was reading, he caught sight of you, laying on his chest, similarly engaged in a book of your own. He couldn’t help the smile that it brought to his face. Someday you would come to your senses and find someone else, but for now he was going to enjoy every moment he had with you. Letting go of his book, his fingers drifted down, tracing along your ear, jawline, and then cheek. Closing your eyes you leaned into his touch with a smile of your own. Your lips trace along his palm, a soft kiss, and then, in a moment that makes him yelp ever so slightly, your teeth sink in. “What was that?” He’s not angry but certainly shocked at being on the other end of a bite for once.

“Sorry Love,” your skin is turning a darling shade of crimson, “I guess I got too relaxed and it just sort of happened.” 

The misery in your voice has him pulling you completely into his arms and kissing your forehead, he wouldn’t dare let you believe he was upset with you. “It’s alright Darling, just a bit of a shock. Is this something you do often?”

“Only when I’m really comfortable with someone,” you mumble, face buried in his shirt. “I promise it won’t happen again.” 

The words fill his chest with warmth, you’re comfortable with him, you trust him. “In that case it most definitely better happen again! And I will be very hurt if it doesn’t.” 

That finally causes you to look up at him, and he can see your embarrassment fading. “If it’s really alright with you…”

“Well it does only seem fair, given our usual circumstances,” he chuckles and puts his wrist perilously close to your mouth, an open invitation. When you gently nibble on it, he feels that same flash of elation he gets every time you say you love him. You hum happily, and the two of you resume reading, Astarion leaving his arm where you can bite down on it whenever you please. 

[fleet-of-fiction]

Jake Kiszka // Female Reader

Summary: Jake's time off is driving you crazy. You still have to work from home and he's demanding your attention. During an important phone call, he decides to take matters into his own hands. And mouth.

A/N: Enjoy this smutty little blurb I've been rolling around in my mouth for a few weeks. It's slightly self indulgent. But certainly a little something I felt needed to be shared.

Warnings: Oral sex f. Fingering. Edging. Dirty talk. Deprivation.

He was bored. Lingering in the space where you'd tried to close the door and he'd caught it, a look of boyish indignation on his face that let you know he wasn't about to let you get any work done.

"If the shoe was on the other foot..." You sighed. "And I disturbed you like this in the studio, you'd be furious."

There wasn't any desire to reject his playful insistence that you pay him some attention. There was nothing more that you wanted than to close your inbox and switch your phone off. To go downstairs with him and get settled on the couch with a glass of wine and let him delicately work his way up your body as you tried to watch a movie.

But deadlines were sat there, making your heart sink and your patience wear ever increasingly more thin. Never more so than when your love was home. His guitar case closed, the need to satisfy weeks of salacious messages exchanged from the tour bus and hotel rooms.

"Furiously turned on." He replied, flashing you a grin that sent flutters down from your stomach into the ebb of your aching core.

"Jake." You moaned, "Go and find something else to do."

You knew he wouldn't. You knew he would continue to watch you type out irrelevant e-mails and feel the mounting arousal in his gaze as you simmered under a barely there thong and t-shirt. Inappropriate to wear in an office, but a sight for sore eyes as you sat at the little desk in the corner of the house.

"There's nothing else I want to do in this house, than you." He complained, adorning the most rage inducing pout you'd ever seen.

You considered setting aside your tasks. To let him fawn over you a little while. Let him have a taste of everything he had missed, just enough to slake his need. To make him less deprived. There was mischief in his eyes and you could never squander the opportunity to see what his boredom could conjure.

"Give me five minutes." You gave in, rolling your eyes playfully but knowing his triumph would bring you to a valiant end.

He tilted his chin. Let the corners of his mouth turn upward. Smug. Like you'd put up a genuine fight. Basking in the glory of his defeat of your intention to continue working. And you would have let him have it, were it not for the tiny little name flashing up on your screen moments later.

Your boss. A name which never usually invoked much of a reaction, but as your attention began to wander it felt as if you could have slipped your phone underneath the pile of paperwork you were yet to complete and simply ignore it.

Jake watched closely to see what you would do. Shaking his head slowly as you swiped your thumb across the screen and mouthed a pathetic 'sorry' as you took the call.

That was your first mistake. To think that he would simply honour your decision to derail his mounting desire. The second was to think that he wouldn't continue in his quest to pull you away from your work load.

"I'm looking at that file right now." You said, spinning your chair around to face the computer, Jake's reflection sitting behind the ceaseless words and numbers you needed to make sense of. "No, there doesn't appear to be any anomalies. But I can double check the numbers for you and get them back to you in the next hour."

No sooner had you made that promise, you felt your chair being spun back around. Jake, on his knees, a serious expression etched on his face as he silently pleaded with you to let him have his way.

"Yes, of course." You continued, holding the phone to your ear whilst widening your eyes. "If all the files need checking I can oversee that for you."

You let your boss speak about numbers and figures. Checking and double checking files. The monotonous drone of their voice fading away as you felt the lace edge of your thong slide down your thighs. Jake, without any regard for what your boss might hear, spread your legs and licked his lips at the sight of it.

"Yes, I'm still here." You tried to focus, almost audibly moaning at the sensation of his hands moving your thighs apart. "Sorry, can you repeat that?"

He was evil for this. The daring glint in his eye as he looked up at you. The sensation of his hair as it brushed against your inner thigh. All the ways in which he brought you back to him, even as you tried to keep your focus elsewhere. He knew the battle for your attention was one that he would always win, but he enjoyed the fight. And you were powerless to stop him. Resolve dissolving as you gripped the phone a little tighter.

You let him lean you back into the arms of the office chair. Raising your knees, letting them fall open as he sank into the gravitational pull of your throbbing pussy.

"Mmmm'hmmm." You hummed, perhaps in agreeance with something your boss said, but mostly at the brush of Jake's tongue as it swept across your outer lips.

The fragility of your voice was going to be the thing which gave you away. The gentle laps of his mouth as it licked the length of your slit, causing you to arch your spine where you sat, would be your undoing.

"Of course." You carried on, trying to keep your voice steady. "I think those were the files I sent over to you last week... Yes, in the blue...folder."

You caught a look of pure unadulterated satisfaction in the way he almost made you unravel. Using two calloused finger tips to open you up even wider. Holding your pussy lips apart, he set his mouth against your swollen clit. Padding the flat of his tongue against it, causing the nerves to awaken and send a flood of arousal to every muscle and sinew in your body. All your joints became loose, and you almost dropped the phone.

"I'll have to draft up some templates." You felt ridiculous, speaking of such ordinary things whilst you were being subjected to a depraved act of sexual rebellion.

He was practically drinking from you as he pressed his nose up against your mound. Letting his mouth take all of you in. Sucking in your lips so that his tongue could reach your entrance. Feeling the sudden rush of blood to your head as his tongue ventured inside.

Your head fell back as he probed you with it. The all consuming need to take a fist of his hair and moan at the way he took you there like that had you tempted to hang up.

"No, I can get that done for you by Friday." You assured, inwardly begging and pleading for the conversation to end.

When he came up to catch his breath, you were smothered across the lower half of his face. Mouth and chin saturated in pussy juice as he ran a palm over the whisks of facial hair that glistened. He stared at you with half closed lids, like he was lost to his arousal and didn't see the phone in your hand anymore.

"Keep talking, baby." He whispered, gathering your t-shirt in a closed fist, pulling you towards his sticky mouth.

There was no doubt in your mind that the kiss would travel down the airwaves. The sound your throat made as his mouth made contact. The uncontrollable whimper that was breathy and almost silent, but not quite. The sound of his tongue as it travelled against yours, the taste of what he'd swallowed now in your mouth as you tried to hold yourself steady against the ramblings going on at the other end of the receiver.

And then the inevitable question came. Is everything alright over there? As if you could tear yourself away from his sweet breath. You kept your tongue in his mouth far longer than you'd anticipated. And when the response came, it was almost met with suspicion.

"Yes." You replied swiftly, feeling foolish for being so reckless. "Everything's fine. My apologies, what was it you were saying about the new deadline?"

He almost fell to laughter. Seeing the crimson in your cheeks and the heavy flush in the flesh at your throat. Positively wrecked by his assault. And nowhere near to being done with it.

The blurred lines between decency were ruined. All you could do was submit. Your chest heaving in shallow breaths as he lingered at your mouth with his parted slightly. Not kissing, but savouring the way your lips were a little swollen from the pressure of his mouth against them.

"Mute them." He instructed, "They don't want to hear this."

You swallowed thickly. Swiping over the little mic icon until it was crossed out. Your boss carried on talking, little musings that required no response but information you no doubt needed in order to get the next lot of projects done.

"Whatever it is you're planning on doing, do it quickly." You urged, letting him slide the phone out of your hand and place it screen down on the pile of unfinished paperwork.

"Hold on tight." He said, causing you to grip the arms of the chair in trepidation.

Pushing the hem of your t-shirt up, he exposed your breasts and rose on his knees to meet them. His body pressed up against you, warm and tender. He wasted no time in taking what he wanted. Sucking your nipple violently into his mouth as he penetrated you with two of the most delicious fingers.

And then you knew why he'd wanted that conversation muted. The sound of your wetness pounding against his knuckles was utterly pornographic. Teeth bore down into your flesh as you threw your head back and you began panting wildly at the way he punched into you. Flecks of pussy juice flicked onto your thighs, spreading up his forearm as he fucked into you with his hand.

Your entire body was shaking with the onslaught. The chair practically ready to fall back as he curled his fingers inside you and applied the most delicious pressure on those places he loved to tease the most. You couldn't breathe. Your legs felt entirely weak. Your senses heightened.

"Taking phone calls when you've promised to fuck me." He admonished, bringing his mouth to your ear as your breasts bounced against his chest. "I'm gonna teach you never to make promises like that, baby."

You loved how he made you a sloppy mess. Looking into your eyes as he vigorously forced his fingers inside you as far as they would go. Watching your brow furrow and your jaw go slack, nose wrinkled in a look of absolute hedonistic pleasure. If this was a punishment, it didn't feel much like one.

"I'm gonna lose my job, baby..." You whimpered, letting him slow to a steady pace, his fingers sliding in and out as your pussy lips pulled against saturated knuckles. "I really....fuck...I have to get back to this call..."

You could see how worked up he was. A little edge of disappointment as you picked your phone back up, your boss still prattling on as if you'd been listening the entire time. You kept eye contact with him, listening to the way your pussy sounded now that he'd ruined it.

"That all sounds fine." You interjected, "I should probably go and get a head start on all of this."

Jakes thumb was rolling around your clit. Pulling back the hood, pressing down on it like it was a big red button that shouldn't be pressed. Begging to be detonated. Your breath still lingering on errant moans you didn't dare express.

"Yes..." You could feel his intention rise. "Yes, that all sounds do-able."

You needed to let go. To feel the fissures of your orgasm that was building more clearly. He'd call it legendary, the way he'd made you let him play with you while on this seemingly important interaction. He'd talk about it again and again when he wanted to remind you that you were his.

You were about to speak when his mouth returned to you. Sucking on your tongue as if to rob you of all the words you were meant to say. You could hear your boss on the other end of the phone, waiting for your response, one that you simply couldn't make whilst letting Jake wrap his lips around you. All you could do was gently murmur until he had his fill.

"Anything you need." You said breathlessly, to your boss...to Jake. "I'm gonna go ahead and make a start on those files for you, ok?"

He slapped your pussy with the back of his hand as you came off the call. Causing you to squeal, a high pitched whine of delight.

"Oh, no..." He shook his head. "You think just because you hung up that you get to cum now, is that it?"

You would have begged. But it would have been futile.

"Stand up." He ordered, bringing you to your feet. "Palms on the desk."

The torturous beat of his ministrations continued. Thighs parted as you leaned against the array of work left undone. He fell to his knees again and licked endless stripes up from your pussy into the valley of your ass. Pressing his mouth into the moisture there. Making your begs come out in painful moans. Not in words, but in restrained little moans that did nothing to help your cause.

"You ready for my cock?" He asked, sliding a solitary fingertip down the path of where his tongue had been.

The way your head moved up and down, humming your need as the word yes spilled out... you felt the incomparable rage of your phone vibrating again.

.

.

.

@caprisunsister @thewritingbeforesunrise @takenbythemadness @katuschka @its-interesting-van-kleep @lvnterninthenight @writingcold @jakekiszkasbuttsweat @edgingthedarkness @velveteencatch @lyndz2names @nina-23-45 @itsafullmoon y @char289 @dancingcarbon @gvfpal @violetstarcatcher @wetkleenex-gvf @jazzyfigz @gvfmarge @ignite-my-fire

[written-in-flowers]

Lovesick: Chan x Male!Reader Pt. 1

Pairing: Bang Chan x Male!Reader | Side pairings: Minho x Chan, Minho x Male!Reader (unrequited)

Word Count: 11k

Genre: Horror, Angst, Smut | AU: Yandere!au, Videogame!AU, Highschool!AU

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Summary: After being sucked into the dating simulator "Lovesick", Park YN has to defeat five rivals to reach his goal. However, he soon learns his rivals aren't the only thing he must contend with for Chan's love.

Tags: Graphic depictions of violence, Main Character Death, dark fic, dead dove: do not eat, yandere behaviors, yandere!reader, stalking, murder/violence, blood and violence, toxic relationships, mentions of murder, unrequited love, mentions of domestic violence, school massacre/genocide, implied teacher/student relationship, homophobic parents, mentions of bullying/trauma, obsession, possessiveness, manipulation, high school setting, anal sex, anal fingering, edging, eventual smut, pool sex, locker room sex, blowjobs, choking.

A/N: PLEASE READ TAGS BEFORE READING! I'm not responsible for any feelings you end up having because you ignored this warning and the ones above.

Han Jisung: Monday >

****

Tutorial Level: 

“Play as Kim Sunghoon, a sophomore at Whimoon High School. He currently has a crush on popular boy, Bahng Chan, and he’s not the only one. Sunghoon is in love, and he will do anything to be with the boy of his dreams. Beat all five rivals to win his beloved’s affections, and maybe you’ll survive.” 

‘Lovesick: Dating Simulator’, was written in bubble letters on the front cover. You’d found it at the bottom of the bargain bin by chance. After spending weeks in the office writing out code and testing out Nightmare Carnival 2, you thought you deserved a bit of a break. Your collection at home felt a bit stale, so you’d gone to the local game shop to look for something new. The bargain bin usually carried copies of short, simple independently made games. You liked giving the smaller companies a try, especially since you worked at the mega developer, Vision Entertainment. It reminded you of your own humble beginnings playing games people put their heart and soul into. You dug through the top to the very bottom where you pulled out a thin case. Against the pink backdrop with white hearts stood the typical anime school boy. Black bangs over his wide blue eyes, he wore a cheerful, playful smile from underneath the game’s title. 

Reading the summary a second time, you realized it sounded quite odd. ‘Maybe you’ll survive’? What did that mean? It certainly sounded strange, but perhaps the developer wanted it that way. It looked interesting; certainly had potential to be more entertaining than regular dating simulators and the LGBT factor intrigued you as well. When you tilted the cover slightly, the backdrop changed from pink to red with bleeding black hearts. Dark blood splattered the boy’s uniform and the knife he held behind his back. Yes, this game felt right up your alley. You typically finished games like this in a day or two, so you picked up a few more games from the bin before making your way to the counter. 

An apartment located in the center of Seoul, wide windows gave a view of the crowded streets below. Honking cars and busy city sounds came up to your windows, and you drowned the sounds with your stereo. The upbeat, four-chord intro to your favorite band’s newest single flowed through the apartment as you settled in for the night. After a long day in the office, you looked forward to a night of mind-numbing gaming. Putting a microwave dinner to cook, you scrolled through your phone to see a voicemail notification. You sighed deeply, already knowing who’d called. 

‘Eomma,’ labeled the two-minute long voicemail she’d left. You felt compelled to give it a listen while you waited. 

“YNie, I know you’re a busy boy these days with your video games and all that, but you can at least give your mother a call once in a while, you know. I did raise you after all,” she sounded irritated, “Remember when I told you your cousin Kyungmi got knocked up by that boy who works at her mother’s cafe? Well, apparently she’s keeping it and having a baby shower this weekend. Your aunt and I would like it if you came. You can bring that little friend of yours, what’s his name? Kibum? Kimoon? Well, whatever his name is, it’s this Saturday at one o’clock. I know this adorable baby-shop around the street from me you can get a gift from. Just letting you know. Talk to you soon, darling. Lots of love.” 

‘Little friend’. Your mother could never stomach your sexuality. Out of both your parents, she certainly took it better than your father, but she still avoids talking about it. You scoffed at hearing her get your ex-boyfriend’s name wrong for the millionth time. Not that it mattered. You and Dobin broke up months ago. It was over and done with, and you moved on from him. 

Getting your meal out of the microwave, you went over to the couch and ate dinner quietly, watching reruns of a sci-fi show you loved. You haven't talked to your parents much since moving to Seoul five years ago. You found it hard to rebuild bridges when the other half failed to meet in the middle. Your father disowned you almost immediately, often pretending he has no son whenever friends asked about you. Your mother took it well, though she preferred you kept it “behind the closet door” in front of family friends. She acted as if you’d arrive at family events decked out in drag and singing show tunes while waving a gay pride flag. 

Hm, perhaps you should. It’d be worth it to see the horror on their faces.

You’d been settling in for a long gaming session when your phone rang. Looking at the screen, you groaned at your boss’s name. Even after office hours the woman had the nerve to pester you. Answering the call, you put it to your ear and spoke:

“Hello Irene-noonanim,” you said, trying your best not to snap.

“YN-yah," she said curtly, "You didn’t submit your testing results yesterday." She continued in her usual stern tone, “I told you I needed them to show to the directors at the meeting.”

You sighed, sticking your tongue in your cheek. She could have told you this tomorrow.  You mustered up all the kindness you could put into your voice and said, “Oh yeah, um, sorry about that, Noona. I must’ve forgotten to press submit when I was typing it out. It’s still on my computer in the office; I'll go back into the system and print it out.” 

This was a flat out lie. You hadn’t written down the test results because there wasn’t much of a need. Nightmare Carnival 2 still acted as glitchy as the day they began its framework. You recalled spending hours reworking all the coding and modeling for the game because the characters kept lagging. You wanted to remind her that you’d been the original creator and developer. Vision Entertainment wouldn’t have a good horror game if they hadn’t bought the rights and hired you to work alongside them. However, you refrained. The last thing you needed was working yourself up before you played a game. Still, you supposed you should’ve sent her something, even if half-assed. 

“I need you to do that ASAP,” she said, “It’s important we collect information from all the designers and testers before sending our updates. We’re on a deadline, you know.”

“Well, that’s what you get when you start promoting and teasing a new game before it’s even halfway done,” you spat back at her.

“Nightmare Carnival was a huge success, YN. A sequel needs to come out before it loses buzz.” She then added in a gentler voice, “You’re one of our best designers and testers. You know this game better than anyone on the team, and your work always comes out incredible.” 

Flattery. That was how Irene won over the people she'd annoyed or upset. Unlike your other male coworkers, you didn’t fall for her charms. You sensed the falseness behind the words right away. Irene used generic phrases like “you’re the best one on the team” and “you do such good work”. You hated it. You knew in the end she didn’t care about video gaming: she was a corporate lapdog sent to make sure they met deadlines. You wanted to strangle her most days. 

“Thanks, Noonanim,” you replied, pulling back your annoyance into a pleased tone, “That means a lot coming from you. I’ll send you the report, and you can send it to the guys upstairs.” 

Irene sounded pleased by your response and you hung up. You had no intention of doing anything else today. If she calls again, you’ll come up with an excuse to satiate her. Maybe bring up a family emergency or something. You didn’t want to deal with her. Sitting in front of your computer, you leaned into your seat with your after-dinner chips and a canned drink beside you. You knew you should keep working, since the game’s coding was something to be desired, but you could do it later. You needed a break. 

You installed ‘Lovesick’ and in a few minutes, you were met with the bright pink and white menu screen. A photo of the basic white and beige high school building, with the main character standing in front of it came on the screen. Your excitement elevated as you fixed the gameplay keyboard to your liking. You looked forward to seeing the game in action. The internet being full of spoilers, you kept yourself from doing any research beforehand. When you finished setting up, you clicked ‘New Game’ and the intro cutscene started. 

“All my life I’ve felt incomplete,” a young male’s voice said over a black screen, “I could never feel anything. No joy. No warmth. No light. My heart was a black, swirling abyss of nothingness.” 

The main character, Sunghoon, came onto screen, yet he looked different from the cover. A portly boy with thick rimmed glasses, acne scars on his cheeks, and stringy blonde hair parted in the middle walked through a long hallway. You couldn’t help feeling for him. You’d once been fat and pimpled, which made you a regular target for bullies. However, after a university ‘glow-up’, you lost the baby fat and your skin cleared up. But, you’re sure developers did this so his social avoidance and solitude made sense. Sunghoon had the typical 3D anime game style with sharp lines and big eyes that filled up the glasses. The graphics looked pretty clear for an indie game, so you weren’t too bothered. You’d seen worse. You watched the screen and felt the words resonate inside you. You’d been the same way once. You’d been the withdrawn boy who had few friends, but many bullies. You watched the character continue on through the empty hall, recalling your own school days.

 “I spent my days suffering in the darkness. Every night, I dreamed that one day my true love would come and take me away from this sadness. I dreamed they’d make me a whole person, filling the emptiness inside me.” 

The camera showed Sunghoon standing in circles with other characters, smiling and laughing with them. Except, you noticed his smile didn’t reach his empty eyes. You wondered if you looked like that with your friends. You always found yourself pushing to feel for others. It didn’t come naturally to you like it did to other people. The endless cycle of adult life and failed relationships turned you into a hollow shell incapable of strong emotions anymore. Your laughs sounded weak at times. You blanked in the face of a crying friend in need of consoling. You found yourself not truly caring.

“I thought I’d be forced to wander this earth alone forever, aimless and friendless.” The black faded into white with pink flower petals floating across the screen, “Then I met…Him.” 

It then showed the school’s courtyard where a large fountain stood in the garden area. On the edge of the fountain sat another boy in the green and white uniform, quietly reading to himself with a book bag at his feet. The bright pink glow around him made him stand out in the sea of gray blurs; his brown hair hung to his brow, and downturned eyes focused on the book in his lap. From the soft smile, you saw dimples poking slightly into the boy’s cheeks. He reminded you of every other hot anime boy you’d seen.

“Bahng Chan…”  Sunghoon said in a dreamy sigh. “He is my whole world. Ever since I saw him, a fire stayed blazing inside me. He has brought color and sunlight into my bleak existence. He fills my heart and completes me! I only feel human when I am looking at him. I love him.”

Although, you found it a bit odd that Chan’s looks appeared better enhanced than other characters. His features appeared rounder and detailed, somehow setting him apart from the introduction’s cutscene characters. You yawned as the cinematic continued. You must be more tired than you’d realized, but you hadn’t started playing yet. You decided you’d go to bed after getting a feel for the game.

“I knew I needed him in my life. I needed him like a fish needs water…but someone else wants my beloved.” The video shifted to show Sunghoon watching Chan talking to another boy. The romantic melody shifted slowly into deep, foreboding notes. “He wants him, but not in the way that I want him.” Sunghoon’s high voice became low and firm, a certain growl behind it. “He’ll never appreciate him like I do; he will never love him the way I do. He doesn’t deserve him. Chan belongs to me, and only me. He will be mine.” 

Your eyes felt suddenly heavy. Shaking your head and blinking a few times, the grogginess only grew stronger. The long office hours must finally be catching up to you. Your eyes stayed on the screen that played the melodic music, pink petals gently floating across it as it went onwards. It was a mesmerizing, hypnotizing sight. You wondered how long it took the developers to make the cut scenes. They were pretty good. With the right backing, they can be better. You rested in your chair and took a small sip of soda. Maybe the caffeine will keep you up long enough.

“I cannot let him have Chan. I need to stop him by any means necessary…”

Your eyes started fluttering closed. You slunk back into your computer chair, your head on the head rest…

“Even if it means hurting him…”

The groggy feeling started turning into sleepiness…The pink and white slowly transitioned into black again or maybe that was your eyes finally closing… 

“Even if it means killing him.” 

****

When you woke up, it took you a few minutes to realize you weren’t in your bedroom. You weren’t even in your apartment anymore. You blinked your eyes to better take in the scene: the dark blue walls changed to a light cream color with video game and superhero posters plastered across them. You sat in a full bed with white and beige sheets rather than your larger, dark-colored one. Not a single recognizable thing in the room remained. Somehow, you’d gotten from your computer desk back home to a stranger’s bedroom. You sat up from the bed and saw you weren’t wearing your own clothes either. Rather than wearing your long black shirt and pajama bottoms, you wore a plain white shirt and blue boxer shorts.

Had you been drugged? You thought back to the soda you’d drunk, but that’s foolish. You tried pinching your thigh in hopes you’d suddenly wake up, but when you opened your eyes, you hadn’t left the bedroom. This could not be happening. A streak of panic went through you as you kept looking around. How did you get here? Where was ‘here’? You saw a door on the other side of the room, and walked over to it. Yet, when you tried the door knob, it didn’t budge. It did not even jiggle. You shook the knob and it did not move at all. Someone locked him in here. You resorted to slamming your hands on the door.

“Hello?! Hello, is anyone out there?! Can you hear me?! I’m locked in!” 

No answer. Not a single sound. You screamed in frustration, hitting the door over and over until your hands burned. This must be a dream, a hallucination. You kept knocking and pounding the door before finally giving up. Panic hit you square in the chest, tightening into a ball right in the center. You took steady breaths, running your fingers over the smooth wood to ground yourself again. The door felt so real. You felt the polish wood sliding against your fingertips as if it were your own. How could this be happening?

You searched for a computer or phone to call for help next. There must be a way out of the room, like an escape room. Yet, it appeared your kidnappers thought ahead. They’d left only a television, bookshelf, dresser and a desk. You pressed the TV button in hopes of some form of life, but nothing happened. Out of frustration, you abused the button until you nicked your fingernail on the edge. Sucking on it for relief, you found nothing amongst the manga collection in the shelves, the desk or dresser drawers. Why have these things here if they are useless? You immediately imagined some psychotic killer about to live out his depraved fantasies with you. Yes, if this is not a dream, then it’s a nightmare. You rested against the blacked out television, trying your best to stay in reality. You huffed a laugh at this. Reality? Sure.

“What the…”

A sudden two-tone ring startled you. You searched for the source before it went off again. On the bedside table sat a pink cell phone. You swore it had not been there a few minutes ago. You walked over, but you did not pick it up. ‘Monday, 6:00am’ read across the game’s typical background in a thin font. A notification popped up underneath. Perhaps they’ll tell you what the hell was going on. You slide the screen up to read the message. At the top, you read the name ‘Bott’ with an avatar of an anime school girl and the message they sent.

“Stop freaking out and get ready for school! Class starts at 7am!” the message read. 

“School? Class?” you panted, leaning against the bookshelf. “What the…”

“I’ll explain when you get there!” Another message popped up as if they’d read your mind. “Get moving!” 

You put the phone down. No, this is all a dream. You’ll wake up in your apartment any moment now and things will be fine. Squeezing your eyes shut, you took slow, steady breaths as you felt the edge of the shelf behind you. You took in the smoothness of the wood again. Real wood. It can’t be, though. This is a dream. When you opened your eyes, the room was still there. Wake up. Wake up. WAKE. UP. 

But, you didn’t. 

Opening the closet door as prompted, you found only two outfits. One was a school uniform, dark green with a white long sleeved shirt, khaki slacks and a green tie. A private school uniform, expensive and tailored to your body. The other was a simple black hoodie with jeans and sneakers, which you guess was the “casual” outfit. All you had to do was touch the uniform and with a soft click, you changed from pajamas to the sleek uniform. 

“How the hell?” You turned to the mirror and saw yourself in the uniform.

You jumped. The person in the mirror did not look like you at all. Back home, you kept your hair clean and neat. Here, you sported a bowl cut with a middle part, the greasy bangs hanging over your thick glasses. The body you worked hard to maintain turned pudgy and round in places and red blotches of acne scattered across your cheeks, nose, and forehead. The tightness in your chest swelled up to your throat, and you gulped it back down. You tried taking deep breaths through it, making yourself focus on the things you can feel and smell.

‘Hurry up! There’s not much time and a lot of stuff to do!’ Bott’s message came through.

Going along with it seemed to be the only solution. After a few more deep breaths, you shoved some books into the backpack and slung it over your shoulder. The phone buzzed on the table once again, and you snatched it up. In most modern games, the cellphone was a handy tool for getting information. If this is his dream, it’ll work the same.

“Welcome to Lovesick!” You read in the chat, “I’m Bott, and I’ll be your guide through your time at Whimoon High School.”

“What’s going on?” you asked.

“Hush up and listen!” Bott wrote back as if they'd heard him. Disembodied voices were common in dreams. That was all. “Head on over to the school so we can catch up on what’s going on.”

“What’s going on is I'm in a dream and none of this is real.”

“If it’s only a weird ass dream, then you have nothing to worry about. Open the door and go to school. We have lots to do before the day is over.”

You thought as you turned the door knock, that all dreams end eventually. You could be minutes from waking up and not knowing it. The door finally opened this time, and found a swirling pink portal instead of a hallway. You hesitated in front of it, and decided for certain you’re in a dream.

Portals only exist in dreams.

*****

Whimoon High School was a wide campus standing four stories tall with lush greenery all around. You stared up at it from the front gate, taking in the wide windows looking back at you. It reminded you of every basic high school design with its cream colored walls and white borders. As you made your way up the stone pathway to the doors, more students in white and green uniforms spawned at the gate. You watched them walk by in a large herd. Most of them had black or brown hair, but others wore it in different colors like aquamarine or cherry red. You also noted that the girls wore very short skirts and tight shirts under their blazers. 

Dream stuff. All dream stuff. 

“Oh good, you made it!” another Bott message came through in a loud pinging sound. “Now, you’re probably wondering how you get out of here.”

“Yeah, I wake up, obviously.”

“No, dumbass. This isn’t a dream. Get that out of your head.”

“It’s giving off dream vibes to me, so yeah, it is.” 

“Fine. In order to leave the ‘dream’ you need to beat the game. You did read the back of the cover when you got it, right?”

“Yeah. It said something about having to beat five rivals or whatever. Probably entered my subconscious or whatever.” 

“Unfortunately for you, your beloved is too popular for his own good,” they began. “A lot of people like him. He’s intelligent, strong, handsome, kind-hearted, and gentle. He’s on the swimming team, the debate and the math team. He’s president of the gardening club, and ranked top of the class last year. What’s not to like?” 

“So, your basic golden child. How charming. I thought my brain might make someone edgier for me.” 

“Your beloved is perfect the way he is.”

“Sure.” 

“Every week you’re going to have a new rival to face. You have to get to them before they confess their love to Chan on Friday under the school’s maple tree at five o’clock.”

“And let me guess: I have to kill them?” 

“Not always. You can’t kill too many of them because Chan will lose sanity and might end up killing himself.” 

They stated this as if it mattered. You supposed it did, but you couldn’t care less. Chan was only a video game character in a dream world, after all. You entered the school, where rows of green lockers lined the hallways. Many colored posters advertising different school events and clubs went along the main corridors; a trophy case showed off the school’s academic and athletic achievements. More people moved throughout the hallways, bypassing you as if you were invisible. How has nobody noticed you yet? You walked right up to a group of girls, waving your hand in front of their faces and receiving no reaction at all. It was strange. 

“You can do other things besides killing them,” Bott continued on the phone, “Even if it’s the most effective choice. You can sabotage their relationship with him; you can ruin their reputation or their popularity so people bully them and they leave the school. Anything, YN. You can’t let them have Chan. They don’t deserve him. He’s yours.” 

“Eh,” you shrugged, “He doesn’t sound like my type, to be honest.”

“Then make him your type,” the next message said. “Otherwise, you’re gonna die here. You don’t want that, do you?” 

“This is a dream, so what does it matter?” 

People die in their dreams and wake up to reality. That would be happening any moment now. You refused to believe you’d entered some strange dimension or parallel universe. The idea was absurd. You spotted a teacher, a young woman with blond hair, and pushed her roughly. She moved, but did not react at all. She continued talking to her colleague like nothing happened. You did it a second time, and still no reaction. You might as well be an annoying bug. Yes, things like this happen in dreams. 

‘Alright, go to the administrative office. You gotta enroll yourself into school.’

“Aren’t I already a student?”

“You have to meet Kitae. See?”

On the top of the phone screen, he received a text notification from “Whimoon Admin”. He opened it to read:

‘Welcome [Kim Sunghoon] to Whimoon High School! New students must enroll into their classes at the administrative office. You may find it marked on your student map provided in this text: www.whimoonhighschool.com/schoolmap. Thank you for choosing Whimoon High School as your choice for a higher education. We at Whi-’

You closed out the text, pressing the link to a school map. You’ll be waking up soon anyways, so you might as well have some fun. You followed the map towards an administrative office sitting right beside the faculty lounge. Inside, typical teacher NPCs sat behind desks, typing and doing office work. You approached the main secretary at the desk, and waited for her to notice you. She didn’t. So, he coughed. 

“Oh, hello there!” the round-faced woman smiled at him, her helmet of thick orange curls framing her face. “I am Mrs. Lee, the student director. I assume you’re Sunghoon?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good.” She handed him a small black tablet. “Put your name there.”

You couldn’t read the tablet since the developer filled it with random scribbles to resemble writing. You shrugged, grabbed a stylus, and signed your name. When you gave it back, she approved and entered the information. 

“Kim Sunghoon, eleventh grade. You’ll be on the third floor with the other junior students. Kitae will show you around campus to get you acquainted with the school.” She beamed him another white smile, “Have a pleasant day, Sunghoon-ssi.”

“Um, thank you.”

You  turned around to see a boy standing right behind you. Startled, you didn’t fully look at him until you took a step back.  Scrawny with thin arms and legs, his dark red hair stuck out in odd places and he had freckles across his nose and cheeks. A few inches shorter, wearing the school’s green sweater vest and slacks, he held a clipboard to his flat chest. He gave you a toothy grin and held out his hand. 

“Hey, I’m Seo Kitae,” you shook hands, “I’m supposed to show you around.” 

You typically have trouble remembering people in dreams. You stared around for a moment, expecting someone to acknowledge them, but nobody did. Kitae kept his hand held straight out, still smiling expectantly. It’s a dream. People in dreams can be odd because of the mind’s distortion in the moment. While that ball of anxiousness rolled up from your chest, you nodded. 

“Alright…” you said cautiously, realizing how real Kitae felt. 

Kitae smiled, and led you out of the office back into the hallway. “I think you’ve guessed by now that this is the east wing. Here, on the first floor, you’ll find the Cooking, Drama and Debate clubs.” He gestured to the various open doors you passed. “As a student of Whimoon, the administration expects you to pick a club to join. It looks really good on university transcripts and you get to make friends,” he smiled at you. “Did you have any clubs at your old school?”

Were you expected to answer? You once read somewhere going along with a dream makes it safer and easier. You could be lucid dreaming or having sleep paralysis. If so, this is incredibly lucid. 

“We did,” you finally answered. 

Making another turn, more students exited the school’s cafeteria for a canteen area outside. They sat on green circular tables, drinking and eating as they socialized before class. A portable food truck in the corner had a line of students waiting to place orders, with vending machines that provided cheaper options and snacks. 

“There’s two places to eat at school,” Kitae said, “You can grab some food from the portable out here, or go inside the cafeteria.” 

Just then, a group of boys walked into the canteen area. You didn’t know why at first, but people seemed to move out of their way.  When you saw their jewelry, dyed hair, and the way they’d altered their uniforms, you guessed they were ‘the bad boys’. Other students avoided their gaze as they took up a table to themselves. One began dealing cards to the others, not caring who watched them. They reminded you of boys who’d picked on you in grade school; this must be your brain providing more to the dream. 

“Who’re they?” You asked as Kitae looked at his clipboard. 

“Oh, them? They call themselves The WM Jaguars.” 

You snickered, which then turned into a full laugh. “What? That’s the stupidest name I’ve ever heard.” Surely, your brain could’ve come up with a better name.  

“Don’t say that to their faces.”

“Why? They’re just a bunch of lame dudes. What’re they going to do? Get in my face but never actually do anything?” You thought of the so-called gangs that hung around your old school. They’d been all talk, and these boys did not seem any different. 

“No, no, not the Jaguars. They mean business,” Kitae warned. “You see the skinny one with the long blond hair?” He nodded to the boy dealing the cards, then holding up his own, “That’s Lee Felix. His dad is the biggest, deadliest gang boss in town. He’s not one to be messed with.”

“Psh, sure, okay.”

“I mean it. Felix isn’t a nice guy.” Kitae then leaned towards you, “There’s a rumor he sells drugs and contraband items behind the school.”

Looking at Felix now, you realized those ‘rumors’ most likely aren’t speculation. If this truly was a game, Felix’s prominence amongst the students and his role means he is important to the story. Perhaps a rival, like Bott suggested. No, that’s ridiculous. This is a dream and there’s no proper structure in dreams. Felix shouldn’t matter. You’ll forget his face when you wake up. 

Kitae led you away from the cafeteria to the opposite side of the school to show more club rooms. One room in particular looked exceptionally busy. Several students typed fiercely on computer desks, while others talked around a lit up board of newspaper clippings. Judging by the several headline covers mounted on the walls, and general chaos of the room, you assumed it was-

"The Newspaper Club," Kitae told him. "Whimoon News is our school's newspaper, though I personally think they don't report on much 'news'. It's a gossip rag with fashion columns." 

"Aren't all school newsletters like that?" You smirked, seeing two girls muttering over a printed page in front of them. 

"Ha, they are," Kitae snorted. His face then turned from amusement to annoyance, "Oh god, here he comes."

"Who?"

Right as Kitae pulled him to leave, another boy walked up to them. Long faced with neatly combed brown hair, you noticed his earlobes stuck out a little bit and his eyes reminded you of a puppy. You immediately noticed the camera hanging from his neck, and the 'Press' badge tucked into his breast pocket. He looked at Kitae with professionalism and poise, holding a notepad and pencil in his hand. 

"Seo Kitae," the boy addressed him formally, "I've been searching for you all morning."

"Why's that, Seungmin-hyung?" Kitae asked with a grimace. 

"Because I'm trying to write a piece about Mrs. Lee being the new student director, and you're the person who can get me an interview."

"Why me? You can just go to her and ask yourself."

"I would, but the woman won't give me the time of day!" he whined. "She keeps saying she doesn't want her name written in our 'gossip rag'. I thought if anybody could convince her otherwise, it'd be her favorite little admin staffer," he gave a cheeky grin, "So, how about it? I only need like three or four minutes of her time."

"No, hyung," he said. "If Mrs. Lee doesn't want to be in the paper, then she doesn't want to be in the paper and nothing I say will change her mind."

"Oh, don't think that way. She's bound to change her mind if you-" he stopped mid sentence when he finally noticed you standing there. Round, tapered eyes swept over you for a moment before he said, "Who's this?"

“YN," you introduced yourself. "Park YN." It’s not as if details matter in a dream, do they?

“I thought your last name was ‘Kim’?” Kitae consulted his clipboard, “Yeah, it says it here on my sheet.”

He showed you the page. You coughed awkwardly and said, “Um, yeah. Sorry. I’m still getting used to using my mom’s maiden name instead of my dad’s.” 

“Ooh, a child of divorce,” Seungmin said with a smirk, already taking out a notepad. “A new student, I take it? Did you transfer here because of the divorce? Did you come with your mom or your dad?-”

"-Seungmin-hyung," Kitae interrupted him but Seungmin ignored him.  

Seungmin leaned against the doorframe and stuck out his hand. "Kim Seungmin, editor-in-chief and president of the Newspaper Club," you shook his hand. "It's always a pleasure to meet new students; their articles are always the most interesting." He then smirked, "How about a tiny one right now? If we get it out of the way, then it'll make tomorrow's edition." 

"Not interested," you said right away. 

"What? Why not? If the interview makes you nervous," he withdrew his notepad, “You can give me a comment or two. Such as, how you feel about transferring to a new school and what sort of things you hope to accomplish here. You know, fluffy stuff.” 

“No thanks,” the more you interact in a dream, you might not wake up. 

“Come on, YN-hyung,” said Kitae, steering you away. “We got more places to see before classes begin.” He led you outside the west entrance near the newspaper room, and waited until out of earshot to say, “Good move not giving Kim anything to write about. The guy’s a damn snake, in my opinion. He’s always slithering about school trying to pick up on gossip or eavesdrop on people’s conversations. I’d be careful what you say to him.”

“Noted.”

You walked down the west side of the school, where you found a trail leading into the school’s garden. Beyond the row of hedges, students sat on the benches or worked on the small flower and vegetable beds around the place. It was full of vibrant flowers, bountiful garden beds and carried a sweet fruity scent in the air. You thought of the garden at your old school; it’d been similar. Your brain really was pulling up the memories. 

“This is the school garden,” Kitae said. “The gardening club hangs out here before and after class.” He then added, “I’m part of the club, and it’d be really cool to have a new member. We do lots of fun stuff, and,” he sighed dreamily, clutching his clipboard, “Bahng Chan is such a good club president. He’s nice and knows a lot about plants and flowers. I think you’d really like him. I know I do.”

“Hm, yeah, I’ll think about it.”

"Hey Kitae-yah!"

A boy called from nearby, carrying an empty pail. Fluffy dark brown curls hung back from his heart shaped face, his full cheeks giving him a quokka resemblance. If this dream truly is a game, you suspected you’d just come across another “rival”. He gave Kitae a full-lipped smile as he said. 

"You come to help with the strawberries? I was about to pluck out the weeds. They're starting to overgrow.”

"Actually, I'm showing around a new student," Kitae nodded towards you, and you gave a curt wave. 

"Cool! Nice to meet you," He grinned, "I'm Jisung. I hope you join our club. Chan-hyung's always happy to have new members."

"I'll consider it."

"Awesome," he nodded, "So, I'll see you later then, Kitae-yah?"

"Yeah, later."

Jisung walked away from them to a bed of fruits and vegetables. You watched him leave, noticing that he too stood out in the garden. You knew you wouldn't have to worry about Jisung. Any minute you'll wake up, and Jisung will be forgotten. Kitae led you to the back entrance where he saw two smaller buildings, a gymnasium, and another one he couldn’t place.

“Girls’ and boys’ lockers rooms, the school gym in the back there, and the indoor swimming pool is across from it. The swimming pool is off limits to students before class. It’s where the school swimming team meets for practice. Chan-hyung’s the captain too. He’s such a strong swimmer. You know, he won us first place in last year's big swim competition.”

You couldn’t help noticing his proud tone. You noticed the fond look in his eyes and guessed Kitae would be one of these 'rivals' you needed to eliminate. You almost considered staying in dream land to meet “Chan” to see what the fuss was about. But, you can’t control when dreams start or end. They simply happen. Walking between the buildings to the running track outside, a young man in a green shirt and shorts jogged past them. Black hair cropped short on the sides and long on top, he was much more muscular than the average high school student. He ran behind a line of boys wearing the same uniform, and shouted encouragement from behind them. 

"Seo Changbin," Kitae said when you looked at him. "Track and field captain. He's also on the swim team with Chan-hyung."

"Chan must be a popular guy…"

"He is very well liked," said Kitae, walking past the field and back around the locker rooms. "He was top of the class last year. He's part of the math team too, but he doesn't go to meetings very often. He’s usually in the garden or in the courtyard before classes, then he has lunch with the swim team.”

“How do you know that?”

“Oh, um, well, I’ve only noticed it whenever I’m doing my patrol rounds in between classes,” he quickly excused. “It isn’t like I follow him or anything like that.”

You would’ve countered that, but then your phone pinged. 

‘Looks like you finally met everyone,’ said Bott. ‘Jisung, Felix, Changbin and Seungmin are four of your five rivals.’ 

“And Kitae?” 

"Kitae’s a special case though, since he’s only your tutorial rival."

"What?"

"You have to kill him.”

"Kill him? Why?"

"Because it's part of the game, that's why."

"That's dumb," you scoffed. "Won't the police investigate and realize I was the last person he was seen with?" Not that this really matters, but you didn't want this dream turning into a total nightmare. 

"This is only a tutorial to show you the ropes. Don't worry about cops."

"Tutorial?"

"Yeah, dumbass. You need to know how to murder a rival, in case you decide to do it."

"It can't be that difficult. It's only stab-stab-stab and then walk away."

"And cleaning up evidence?"

"I have to do that too? This is just a dream. It's not as if there are any actual consequences."

‘Still think this is a dream, huh? Just go to the fourth floor bathroom with him.’

You sighed heavily and pocketed the phone. You recalled your own games, and thought how silly bringing reality into the plot was. You wondered if people liked cleaning up the scene afterwards. What if they miss a spot and lose the game? They’d lose. It sounded too risky, but there didn't seem to be much of a choice. Tutorials always worked one way, no matter the genre.

Plus, this was all a dream.

Walking back into the school with Kitae, you saw the upstairs rooms: the library, the student council room, other clubs, and classrooms. When they reached the fourth floor, the headmaster’s office and the art and music rooms, you then said it. 

“Hey, I hate to interrupt the tour, but where’s the bathroom around here?” you asked, wincing as if embarrassed to ask. 

“It’s right down here,” Kitae replied with a grin, leading you to a corner in the hallway. 

You walked into the boy’s bathroom. The high window gave a dim light to the quiet room. Grime stuck between the damp tiles, and the cracked mirror corners gave all the ambiance of a horror game. Yes, the sort of scene your dreams might conjure up. The dream seemed to be going far enough. You'd wake up any time now. 

His sneakers silently moving across the tiled floors, Kitae stood by the row of sinks and mirrors. Seeing his red hair and freckles, you understood why your character felt threatened by him. Kitae’s fair skin and pretty face eclipsed Sunghoon’s acne-marked self. Bott said this is the only way out of the game. Getting out of the game might be a way of waking up. You walked up to one of the urinals, backpack at your side while Kitae washed his hands behind you. You pretended to unzip your pants for something to do. 

“What’s the deal with you and this Chan guy?” You asked. “You seem to like him a lot.”

Kitae turned to the mirror, looking away shyly, “There’s nothing going on. I look up to him, that's all. He's a good role model.”

“I think you think you see him as more than a role model’,” you said, adding amusement to your voice. 

“Gosh, is it that obvious?” he squeaked, hands over his face. 

A text message buzzed in your pocket, and you pulled it out quickly while Kitae wasn’t looking. “Open your backpack. I left you a special surprise.”

You did not want to open the bag. The array of items likely inside gave you pause. But, if you wanted to get home, you needed to do this. It's only a dream. It's only a game. No real harm will be done. You acted like you’d zipped up again, then turned to the backpack on the floor.

“It kinda is, yeah. I don’t blame you though. Chan sounds like the total package.” 

You unzipped your bag slowly and found a long kitchen knife. It shined in the black bag, as if winking at you from between the books. You looked at the knife, and then back at Kitae. ‘He’s only a game character,’ you thought to yourself as you withdrew the knife from the bag. ‘It’s only a dream. It's only a dream. It. Is. Only. A. Dream.’

“Yeah, he is!” he could see Kitae smiling in the mirror, “And nice and smart. You should see him when he swims! He’s like a fish in water-”

Your knees shook as you stood up. The knife felt light in your hand, much lighter than you expected. Did things weigh in dreams? Kitae continued talking about Chan, but the pulsing in your ears drowned him out. Your body vibrated with anticipation as you closed the distance between you and Kitae. You knew any second Kitae would turn around or notice you in the mirror. You paused, knife firmly in your hand, as you stared at Kitae in the mirror. Kitae wasn’t real. He was a figment of your dream. Nobody real. Nothing bad would happen from killing him. You weren’t hurting him; it was part of the dream. 

"You should see him in the school garden," Kitae sighed softly. "He's really knowledgeable about-"

It'd be like pulling a bandage. Quickly, you grabbed a fistful of Kitae’s hair and slid the thin blade across his neck. Blood gushed from the long wound, spraying onto the mirror in front of him. You backed away immediately. Heart pounding in your ears, you took deep breaths to steady yourself. Staring down at your hands, you still clutched the knife in one. This wasn’t a dream. The blood quickly cooled and dried on your hands, feeling sticky and thin on your skin. The thick sharp scent hung in your nose, remaining amongst the harsh chemicals. That didn't happen in dreams. 

‘Wake up!’ You thought to yourself. ‘Wake up, damnit!’

Kitae sank to the floor grabbing at his neck wound. He gurgled as he gasped for air that wouldn’t come. You saw how the crimson blood contrasted on his skin, and shined in the fluorescent lighting above. You didn’t know how to feel, if you felt anything at all.

“This…This was supposed to be a dream,” you said in a deadpan voice, continuing to watch Kitae’s life fade. You kept watching him die, his thin body gradually stiffening and going limp. “It’s not supposed to be real…”  

Kitae was a character in a game; a piece of your mind put into a dream. He should have simply dropped dead. Instead, the boy collapsed onto the floor, his head lolled to one side as blood oozed onto the bathroom floor. You continued staring, the stench reaching your nose. It felt all too real now. You expected Kitae to vanish like in all dreams; you’ll wake up now. You needed to wake up. You squeezed your eyes shut, pinched your arm and tried envisioning your bedroom. You only found the dirty bathroom when your eyes opened. 

This whole situation felt so strange; none of it made sense and you could not rationalize anything. Dreams couldn't be so real. You’d killed characters many times in video games, and felt a sense of accomplishment or triumph. Here, you felt nothing. You didn’t laugh like a madman or sobbed in remorse and regret. You only stood and watched with silence. You’d killed someone. You’d truly murdered another person and yet couldn’t bring yourself to feel anything. 

"There should be a bucket, bleach and a mop," the phone in your pocket buzzed. "You have to clean up the scene every time you kill someone so there's no evidence. Evidence = Jail = No more Chan." 

“What the fuck is going on?” You spat, bloody hands shaking. “Where the fuck am I?”

“I told you, YN. You're in Lovesick.”

“I can't be! That's a video game!”

“It's all very complicated, and I might explain it more later. For now, let's get going. Chan is waiting.”

How important was this guy that you had to murder for him? You stayed frozen against the wall as you stared at the body under the sinks. It’d stopped gushing, but droplets still leaked from the wound. You took more deep breaths, gripping the urinal pressed to your back. This couldn’t really be happening. Seeing the sinews and neck muscles split open, blood leaking from it onto the floor, it must be real. You checked the time on your phone, which read ‘6:34am’. Classes started at seven o’clock according to Bott. If this is a game, then you need to start playing by the rules. 

You put the phone in your pocket and went to work. You poured water and bleach into a large bucket nearby and began mopping. Cleaning the floor in a few swipes, it was spotless by the time you finished. You’d watched enough crime dramas to know the basics of body disposal and Lovesick proved no different. In your games, you didn’t bother with such mechanics. It’d be a simple kill, and move on in the story. Does this mean you aren’t in a dream after all? If Lovesick had another creator, how did you get here? You stuffed Kitae into a large black trash bag, then consulted the phone again. 

“The school’s dumpster’s outside. You can dispose of him there for now.”

“Nobody’s gonna see me carrying around this huge black bag shaped like a human?” 

“If you get confronted, you tell them it’s trash.”

Made sense for a game. You shrugged and lifted Kitae off the ground. You left the bathroom and started for the trash area outside. As Bott said, nobody took notice of you. You casually walked around school with a dead body in your arms, and not a single person called out. Wracking nerves shuddered under your skin and your breathing became heavier. You didn’t question the possibility of someone coming across the corpse as you tossed him in the incinerator. The school had an incinerator? What school has that? You decided not to question it too deeply. You looked at Kitae’s wrapped up body one more time.  Bodies appeared smaller in death; you didn't realize how skinny he was until now. You thought of how it’d felt slicing the boy’s throat open; you never imagined the blade moving so smoothly despite the force needed. You knew this was wrong, and that you should feel guilty, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. The empathy refused to come. The body settled into the other black bags, making a very obvious human shape. You shut the lid and pressed the button, hearing the body go up in flames. 

No, this isn't a dream anymore. 

“Okay, I got rid of the rival,” you said to his phone, “What’s next?”

“So we've accepted that this isn't a dream?”

“Maybe not a dream. I won't know until I wake up,” but you sensed that waking up wouldn't be easy, “I might as well play along until I do.”

“Good to see you're catching on. Maybe you're not as dumb as you look. You can either go straight to class now or go find Channie and look at him for a while,” the message read. 

“Think I’ll just wash up and go to class.” 

You found the boy’s locker room, where two uniforms hung in a locker: a school one and a gym outfit. You hadn’t realized how much blood was on you until you finally removed them in a snap. Blood stained the white cuffs, and slipped down the underside of the arms, but that’d been all. Your heartbeat finally steadied when you stepped into the shower. Finally alone and without Bott bothering you, you shut your eyes and thought. 

So, this truly was a video game. You could not deny that anymore. The only way out was to go along with the objectives, defeat these “rivals”, and win the heart of your “beloved”. It sounded so immature and pointless. Why go through all this trouble for a boy? Especially a boy who doesn’t know your character exists? You supposed that was the entire point of the game. Sunghoon is a ‘yandere’, after all. You huffed in a laugh. A Japanese term being used in a Korean setting. It was pathetic. You guessed you'd have to accept your fate and play along if you wanted to go home. Lovesick couldn’t possibly be that difficult, so you should be fine. 

Stepping out of the shower, you dried instantly. In a foggy mirror, you saw youf game-world appearance. Nowadays, everyone promotes ‘body positivity’ and loving yourself for who you are, but you could never follow that bandwagon. Years of torment left the taunts about your appearance on your skin like cement. Even now as an adult, those horrendous comments plagued you whenever you gained a pound or found a pimple. Seeing your character in the mirror, you wondered why you didn’t look like the boy on the cover?  A marketing tool, perhaps? You saw this flaw as a serious oversight on the developer’s part. How was Chan going to choose Sunghoon over his rivals if he looked like the average anime nerd? You hated it. It reminded you too much of days you’d rather leave behind. There must be a way to change this. 

“How do I customize myself?” You asked Bott when you finished changing. 

“You can’t.”

“But, there must be a way. I can’t get his attention looking like this.” You left the locker rooms and headed for the school building again. 

“Looks won’t matter anyways. You can’t talk to him until the end.”

“Why? Shouldn’t I be trying to get closer to him so he notices me?” 

“Because yanderes don’t talk to their senpais until they finally have him.” 

“That’s stupid and doesn’t make sense,” you snapped suddenly. “Also, ‘yandere’ and ‘senpai’ are Japanese. ‘Stalker’ and ‘Oppa’ would make sense in a Korean school setting. If they were going to use Japanese terms, then why didn’t they just set the school in Japan?” 

“That’s how the developer wanted it.”

“Well, the developer is an ignorant dumbass who made a stupid game. They set their game in a Korean secondary school, but use Japanese descriptions.” 

“Hey, don’t be so mean! They were trying very hard, and then people had to go and ruin it for them! 

“I don’t really give a shit. It’s pointless.” 

You shut off the phone as you walked through the halls. Were you going to have to kill every single rival until the oh-so-great Chan loved Sunghoon? It sounded tedious and exhausting. Not to mention, the high school setting didn’t help. Being ignored by your classmates wasn’t a heart-warming experience. They’d ignored you back then too. High school had been such a dark memory, and you’d have to relive it all over again. 

You headed for the classrooms on the east side of the school, meaning you’d have to pass through the courtyard to get there. A quiet area with trees providing shade for the students on hot days, benches for them to sit and talk, a lovely fountain stood in the center. Students huddled into groups around it, their uniforms and pins indicating the different cliques. Your own uniform, plain and bland, didn’t have any pins. Another reason to be excluded. 

You’d been bypassing a student sitting on the fountain when the colors softened, and holographic petals started flowing through the courtyard. A heartbeat started coming from all around you, and warmth instantly filled your cheeks. You noticed the world moved at a slower pace now; you were shuffling on trembling knees. Pink. Everything became a sickening shade of pink. Nobody noticed this but you; they remained in place with their usual chatter. You tried finding the source, but it eventually found you. 

Chan sat a few feet away on the fountain edge. Like in his cutscene, Chan sat with a book in his lap and an apple in his hand. The Chan from the cutscene looked nothing like the one before you. Here by the fountain, he looked as real as any other man. Curly and hanging over his face, his black hair looked soft to the touch. Smooth, beige skin glowed in the sunlight above, giving him color and vibrance. You gazed over the luscious lips pressing to the red apple before taking a bite of it. The bottom half fuller than the top, they still looked kissable as ever. His uniform blazer hid the slim torso underneath, but accentuated his broad shoulders. Bott mentioned he was on the swimming team, which gave him a swimmer’s figure. You knew he was made to be good looking, but you never imagined it’d be this intense. The flowers and brightness of the world made sense. You understand now why your character loved him so much. 

You wanted to talk to him. You needed to hear what he sounded like. Perhaps you could make a joke, and listen to him laugh. The thumping grew louder, and your mouth dried up.  You began saying something, until the words bunched in your throat and you couldn’t help letting out a small giggle instead. Chan looked up from his book with a questionable stare. 

“Is there something wrong?” he asked, cautiously. 

You couldn’t speak. The nerves would not let you. Damn the stupid developer. You shook your head, then shuffled away from Chan. Once you were a few feet, the world shifted back into its normal colors and the distant thumping disappeared. You rested against the back of a tree, fingers touching the rough bark to focus on. You couldn’t shake Chan from your mind. His voice had been smooth and light, enough to make your body quake. You wanted to hear it again. You understood now why so many people wanted him and why you had to end them. But how could you do that if you couldn’t speak to him? You stayed behind the tree, and poked your head out to look at the fountain. Chan sat there, reading and eating as if nothing happened. Ten minutes before the bell rang, Chan packed up his things, then headed for a side door. Before he did, he tossed the apple core in the trash. 

You considered actually taking it out of the trash and keeping it. But, he shook that from your mind. That was too weird. It must be Sunghoon’s personality. 

You headed to class, wishing you could keep following Chan. Apparently, you both were in different grades, hence the difference in classrooms. Another oversight. You and Chan couldn’t get to know each other if you didn’t share a classroom.  This needed to be corrected right away. You are a game designer too. If given a way, you could readjust all these problems. The possibilities ran through your head as you entered the classroom. The portal in your bedroom door proved to be a gateway between one location to another; perhaps there are more planted around the place. It sounded ridiculous and very far-fetched, but so was this universe. 

You took a seat at your desk, and saw a tablet in front of you. Glowing bright with a description box at the bottom, you saw different subjects listed on the side. The skill point counter remained at zero, likely used to level up various helpful skills. So basic. Was this honestly needed if you could think for yourself? You brushed it off, and pressed down on ‘Physical Education’.

Lunch came around eleven o’clock. You learned you could either choose to go back to class to end the day or enjoy the spare time. You thought of passing by the courtyard to see Chan again, but you pushed that thought away. That was Sunghoon’s desire, not yours. You had a map to explore. Kitae’s tour did not give you a proper glimpse into Whimoon, or at least the places that mattered. 

You decided to explore on your own. You found the different club rooms, classrooms, the library and student council office like before. You made notes of good disposal places. The principal’s office was on the top floor, where a man in a gray suit sat writing at a desk. Teachers hung out in the faculty lounge, drinking coffee and chatting between periods. You noted the stairs leading to a rooftop area where more students hung out between class times. You walked around the outdoor area, scoping out the school’s gymnasium, and track. Bleachers along the track were ideal for luring students in for a kill; the gymnasium no doubt carried equipment or weapons you can use. The school’s indoor pool was near the locker rooms, a large building with skylights and small windows. You imagined it’d make the perfect place for drowning a victim. You spotted the large maple tree at the edge of the property. Long branches of orange and red leaves provided shade to any prospective lovers. It was the perfect place for love confessions and romantic moments. You pictured himself confessing your love to Chan, then being instantly rejected.

It was when you re-entered the school from the east entrance that you saw it. A door with an “Out of Order. Keep Out” sign stood right inside the east entryway. Curiosity beckoned you to try turning the knob though you knew the door wouldn’t open. In a normal game this would have some kind of easter egg. It’d be fun to see inside even if it wasn’t what you were looking for. You turned on the phone, and looked at the screen. Bott sent tons of messages.  They cursed you for turning off the phone and insulting the developer. You figured by this time that Bott must be the developer or at least be the developer’s self-insert. One more pathetic, meaningless thing added. 

You tried the knob one more time before realizing you’d need to pick the lock. You'd picked many locks in your time, so it was a cakewalk for you. You simply needed a hairpin and paper clip, two things found in schools. A supplies closet halfway down the hall contained the paperclips you needed, and you swiped a butterfly hairpin from a girl sitting in the courtyard. A clock nearby showed fifteen minutes until lunch time ended. You honestly didn’t care if you missed class. It was pointless as someone living within the game. You had his own set of skills that didn’t require collecting points. 

Fixing the hairpin and paper clip together, it made an effective lock pick. Now, you could get through the door. The phone vibrated in your pocket like mad, but you chose to ignore Bott. You had no desire to speak to them when you're so close. If you were right, then you’d hit the jackpot. If you were wrong, then at least you could enjoy a fun easter egg. 

You waited until a few people passed by the door, then started picking the lock. It was fairly simple. A childhood of breaking into forbidden places gave you enough expertise. You grinned brightly when the door clicked and the knob turned. Your phone continued vibrating loudly, and you gave it a curious glance. 

“Hey! Don’t open that door!”

“Players aren’t allowed in there!”

“You stay away from there! There’s nothing in there for you!”

“GET. AWAY. FROM. THAT. DOOR!!”

You opened the door to a dark flight of stairs ending with a door at the bottom. It was most likely the school’s basement. Knowing the theme of this game, the basement is no doubt a place lure students to murder or torture them. So crude. So uncouth. Murder and torture were so boring in games nowadays, or at least to you. There were other ways to get rid of people that didn’t involve weapons. You shut off the phone as you descended the staircase. The basement door strangely remained unlocked. Excitement built up inside you as you turned the knob. 

Inside was a large control room. Computers and machines lined the walls and formed stations in the center. Lights flashed, and soft beeps came from different computers. You giggled in delight at the realization. This was the game’s central command. Everything you needed sat all in the same room, ready to be toyed with. You expected someone to be there manning the various stations, but the room was empty. Perhaps the developer and Bott work the game covertly from somewhere else. This person really was dumb. You examined the work areas and read the titles. It appeared each section controlled a different part of the game. One for graphics, another for framework, another for the map layout and character movements and placeholders. You saw one for characters and their various builds. There was a system for the town, another for the basement and one for the school. You could change everything here. 

You started with character models. You clicked on the file for ‘Kim Sunghoon’, which included all his coding, files, and programmed gameplay. You immediately went to work, redesigning your character through the code lines and animations. You fixed the character’s reputation in the school from invisible to well liked. That could be useful to him at some point. It sounded so delightful. You went into the model program and slimmed yourself down, removed the acne, and gave yourself a side-part hairstyle instead of the bowl cut. 

Then you worked on his interactions. You didn’t care for others, so you dug deeper into the files for individual interactions and found Chan’s name. He clicked on the file titled ‘BChan.exe, but then a pop up box came up. 

“ACCESS DENIED. ADMINISTRATIVE PASSWORD NEEDED.” 

You sneered. They should’ve tried harder. 

Finding a few backdoor files deep in the game, you looped your way around the password protected folders and found it. Going back to Chan’s folders, you typed ‘19971003’ and gained access. You'd expected mainly to find codes for reactions, interactions, his design, his movements, and so on. But, you realized, every file required a password. If not a password, a verification code. Years of hacking into mainframes and encrypted files for money made you an expert in these matters. You used special programs to bypass the verification codes, and various backdoors to enter the protected ones. The game truly wanted to protect Chan; after all, he is one of the  main characters. Finally discovering the right sections, you got to work. You added lines of code and created files where you could have positive interactions with Chan. You put yourself in the same grade, the same clubs, and even put yourself as part of the swim team. 

If the main goal was to have Chan be your boyfriend, then you’d make that happen

*** Later That Night ***

A breath of fresh air. The little strand of numbers zoomed through cyberspace like a fish in water. They danced across the endless void through the strings of binary numbers and html codes. Every sensation came to them all at once. Years spent locked away in mountains of files made them forget the tingling sensations and forever rotating space around them. Bouncing from file to file, they saw the new alterations to the game. They were sure you did not mean to, but you’d freed them. In your search to recreate the game, you'd freed them from their digital prison, like Aladdin with his magical lamp. Seeing everything you did to their game, they should feel enraged. You’d taken integral parts of the story and rearranged and deleted them for your convenience. Yet, they couldn’t help admiring the initiative. You gave them something they could not get on their own: freedom.

 File: Map Layout

Town

School

Houses

BChan.exe

PYN.exe

            LMinho.exe

[Select] PYN.exe

[Select] mapview.bedroom.mp4

A view of your room came to them. Even though in the storyline you are called 'Sunghoon', the game changed the name every time. They rested by the screen and watched you. They took in your sleeping form, taking in the curve of your chin and shape of your eyes. Your soft skin remained unmarked and glowing due to your video game appearance. You really made yourself a vision for Chan, who would no doubt fall for the pretty boy. Under any other circumstances, they’d be swooning over the devilish beauty. They were sure that you turned heads in the real world. Your beauty and brains certainly made them forget what they’d originally created. 

Because Kim Sunghoon was supposed to be fat, greasy and unattractive. That was the whole point of the game. He was supposed to eliminate his rivals and then finally kidnap Chan when he rejects him. You scrapped this narrative and made it your own. They had no real idea how the game would end now that you’d given characters their own autonomy. They’ll have their own thoughts, reactions and emotions. Chan might fall in love with you and then what? You win and go home. Their original blueprint won’t work the same now; there are sure to be glitches and bugs in the system. The ending they always looked forward to might not be possible, and that might’ve been unforgivable.  

After all this time, they still enjoyed watching Him die. 

However, watching you work today, a new game formatted. You did not play like the others. Kitae’s death may have shocked you, but not out of remorse or pity, but realization. To you, it was an objective to reach your goal. Very goal-oriented person. The desire to win and obtain your prize gave you determination and motivation to keep going. It seemed that it didn’t matter who you hurt or what you had to do, you would win. If they let you play the game as is, when you reached the end, you’d have your reward. They had no idea what that ending might be now. 

****

A/N: look at me posting a fic that's actually finished and can post regularly instead of leaving people hanging! Look at me go! I do plan on posting these every Monday, since that's when I'm usually off from work and can sit and focus on it. I am going to still be writing my other fics, but this one's actually finished entirely.

And yes, this is another rewrite from another kpop group it'd originally been for lol Though, I doubt anyone remembers or even read it.

I hope you guys enjoyed this, and if you did reblog and like it. It doesn't hurt, I swear. Thanks <3

[addicted-to-dc]

Hobie Brown/Spider-Man X FemmeFatale!Reader - Red Lipstick

I had to take a break from the Miguel brain rot and shift to the Hobie brain rot. This idea has been stuck in my head for days, so here it is!

Contents: Fluff, teasing, flirting, kissing, Hobie being handsy. Nothing too much. Just that I had too much fun writing this. 1k wordcount

Hobie’s seen you here before, and every time you saunter through HQ he can’t keep his eyes off of you. You practically look like you walked off of a pinup poster, the snug black dress hugging you in the right places with the fur and heels nearly making him walk right into a wall. Nearly.

He knows you’re from that Noir universe, you and your Spider-Man fighting against crime and fascists… It’s like you were made for him. Don’t even get him started when he sees you all dolled up in your suit. It’s driving him mad just not to speak with you. It made sense to not try, especially with how close you were to your Spider-Man.

One day after a very successful mission, he returns with one thing on his mind: talking to you. As soon as he steps through the portal and sees you, he takes it as a sign to approach. Your laughter only urges him forward.

“Please, Parker, you know I’m classier than that.”

Your smile curls upward, a playful look lighting your eye as you notice him. Hobie takes his mask off, giving you a curt nod as he stops in front of you. You look at Parker, your smile growing even more. “Consider it done, lay the file on my desk. I’ll go over it when I get back.”

“You’re a doll, (Y/N).”

You shoo Parker off with a smile, returning your attention to him, “Hobie, is it?”

The tension immediately melts from his shoulders as soon as you say his name. You invade his senses, your sweet perfume scrambling his brains for a few seconds. “Yeah, I wanted to introduce myself. You take my breath away every time I see you, Love.”

“You certainly don’t hold back the charm, do you, angel face?” you ask, taking an experimental step forward before leaning close. “Is that a gift for me?”

Hobie smiles and presents it to you with a bow. You gracefully pluck the box out of his hand. Your eyes curiously watch him as you open the box. Looking down, you see a lipstick case. Picking it up, you take the top off and twist, revealing blood-red lipstick. Without even looking at him you open a mirror he swears you produce from thin air.

As soon as you swipe the smallest amount of color on your lips he smiles, “I knew red would look amazing on you. Fascists hate it, y’know?”

You flash him a dangerous smile as you finish applying the lipstick. He’s sure he’s grinning like an idiot, but it’s worth it. Reputation be damned, you’re something special. You place the mirror and lipstick into a small handbag. It clicks shut gently.

“It’s a lovely gift,” you say, moving closer to him to peck his cheek. You pull back, admiring your handy work. “It looks just as good on you.”

“Maybe I can borrow it sometime, get back to my modeling roots,” he quips. His heart nearly stops at the sound of your laughter. “I’ll see you soon, yeah?”

Before he can react you give him another kiss, your lips sealing over his for a few moments before you pull away slightly. “I’ll be waiting, Darling.”

You stroll away into a colorless portal, turning around to blow him a kiss. He catches it and holds it close to his lips. You shake your head at his antics and disappear with the click of your heels.

“You’re so whipped.”

Gwen lands next to him, chuckling at his grin. Hobie shrugs, messing with his watch to get a portal back home. “Yeah, what about it? That woman’s fucking stunning.”

He couldn’t wait to see you again. Even though the red was an immense hit, he used his five-finger discount to get another gift for you. Finding another color that would compliment you wasn’t hard, he knew that everything would look good. As soon as he saw the metallic red one he had to snag it. He excitedly opens a portal to your universe. He steps through, immediately taking in the view of the dramatic lighting and architecture. 

“I didn’t think you’d show, angel face.”

He smiles and turns around, finally seeing you. You’re in your trench coat, but a more casual look compared to your usual suit. The red lipstick is on your lips, your smile looking more devilish than ever. 

“Got a bit distracted,” he says, holding another gift to you, “but I think it’s worth it.”

You close the distance, leaning in close as you gently unwrap the gift. It’s another tube of lipstick. You take it and place it into a pocket. 

“You not gonna try that one out for me?” Hobie asks, grinning widely when you pull him closer with his belt loops. 

“Help me take off this lipstick, Sugar, and I will.”

Hobie nearly groans at your request, leaning to capture your lips with his. He feels the pigment coat his lips after each passing kiss, driving him even more insane than you usually do. You bite onto his lip piercing and pull back, smiling when he grabs your hips and yanks you close. 

Your eyes feel heavy as his hands wander, sliding down to your ass to knead it. You bite your lip to silence yourself. He doesn’t like that one bit. Sliding his hands down even lower, Hobie grasps your thighs and lifts you onto him. Your dress hikes up just enough to wrap your legs around him. His lips migrate to your neck, spreading the red lipstick all over your neck and chest. One of your heels slips off your foot and falls to the ground, your composure gone as you dig your nails into his scalp and pull.

He reluctantly releases your neck, eyeing up the red spread all across your skin. You’re breathing wildly, trying to slow your breathing when he tries to go on for more. You hold him back, laughing breathlessly. 

“Your place or mine, Sugar?”

[dvhuwr]

Genshin Impact - NSFW Childe Alphabet Headcanons !!

Pairing: AMAB Childe + AFAB Reader

Synopsis + Information: NSFW Chile Head Canons for every letter of the Alphabet.  

Tags: Mentions of Sex, Blowjob, Cunnilingus, Quickies, Masturbation, Cosplay, Public sex, Spanking, Slapping, Rough and hard Sex, Fingering, Penis, Pussy, Breasts, Cream pie

Minors do not interact with my account or this post! Enjoy guys!

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after the act). Childe is playful and fun after ‘the act’. He enjoys teasing you and joking around in a playful manner; he loves seeing you in a bright mood.

B = Body part (Their favourite Body part). Childe is a breasts guy, no doubt about it. He loves your breasts, regardless of their size.

C = Cum (Anything cum related). He loves finishing on your breasts, it turns him on seeing your chest covered in his semen, it’s almost like a work of art to him. Though he's more than happy to finish inside of you, whether that's your pussy or your mouth.

D = Dirty Secret (A dirty secret of theirs). Childe enjoys risky intercourse. He loves pushing the boundaries and public sex is definitely one of them. He’s a fun and adventurous young man who loves thrills, and the risks that come with public sex are what make it so exciting to him; even the thought of getting caught makes him hornier.

E = Experience (How experienced are they?). He isn’t the most experienced and he sure isn’t a pro, however he definitely isn’t a beginner. While he has had his fair share of encounters and does know what he’s doing, he doesn’t experiment or widen his knowledge as much as others. He’s a simple man who wants one thing, and Childe uses his instincts to guide him during intercourse.

F = Favourite Position (Favourite sex position). He loves doggy. While Childe enjoys most positions, doggy has always been his favourite. It’s easy and quick, can be done in many different ways, and is great for quickies and public sex, which he thoroughly enjoys.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment or are they humorous). Childe can be serious; however, he does have his moments. He loves to tease around and joke about with you, even if the urge to do so pops up during sex. He’s light-hearted and if he ever needs to pop a fart or make a joke, he most certainly will, even if it is during intercourse.

H = Hair (How groomed are they down there?). He likes to keep himself trimmed and slightly shaved, though not completely bald down there. Childe believes that only porn stars should do such things, though really, I think he is just lazy, which is most definitely the case.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, the romantic aspect). As said previously, Childe can take himself seriously when necessary, and can be extremely charming, lighting candles, laying out roses and so forth. During truly intimate moments, Chile will make you feel like the only woman in the world.

J= Jack off (Masturbation). If Childe is unable to see you, sometimes masturbation is the only option. Whilst he isn’t exactly a ‘lonely’ man, he can do so when it is needed. He knows how to get himself off.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks). He absolutely loves cosplay sex. As said previously, Childe is an extremely fun and adventurous person, and he likes to bring this into his sex life as well. Not only are cosplays fun but they can be extremely sexy too. Nothing better for him than seeing you in a sexy cosplay of one of the characters from his favourite manga.

L = Location (Favourite places to have sex). Whilst Childe does enjoy anywhere, his favourite places are risky ones such as: public areas. It gives him such a thrill by doing something so dirty in a place where someone could find you. But then again, even the thought of being found turns him on profusely.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going). Childe is rather spontaneous and will pull you over to the side whenever he feels the urge to have sex. However, his biggest turn on are definitely your breasts. Whether they’re bare or clothed, if he sees them looking a bit too good, it will definitely get him going.

N = No (Turn offs, things you shouldn’t do). He sure isn’t a fan of extreme violence. Childe likes his spanking and slapping here and there, but anything too extreme is too much for him. He believes that he should treat you with respect and care, even if this goes against your wishes; He just doesn’t enjoy hurting the people he loves.

O = Oral (Preferences, skill). Childe likes receiving head, however giving is what he absolutely loves. He enjoys hearing your moans and whimpers whilst he eats you out. If living off pussy instead of food was possible, he would choose your cunt any day of the week. Pleasing his partner is a big priority of his, especially during sex.

P = Pace (Are they fast, slow, rough or gentle?). He cannot help himself most of the time. Once you get him going, it’s impossible for him to stop. He enjoys quick bursts of energy and quick and rough sex is just right for him. He struggles to take sex at a slow pace, not just because it bores him but because he can’t help but slam himself into you rough and hard. It’s so fun and pleasurable for both parties.

Q = Quickies (Opinion on Quickies). Quickies are Childe’s best friend. They’re great especially when having risky or public sex. They’re so sexy and turn him on a lot. The thought of quickly having intercourse in an inappropriate place at an inappropriate time is so dirty and sexy to him.

R= Risk (Are they game to experiment). As mentioned previously, Childe thrives off of thrills, especially ones during sex. It’s extremely enjoyable for him and risk certainly is a massive turn on.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they last for, how long do they last?). Whilst Childe doesn’t last very long in terms of finishing, he does have exceptional energy levels and stamina; meaning that he can go on for many rounds without feeling worn-out or tired. Additionally, he gets carried away, and once he’s inside you he feels as if he can’t stop.

T = Toy (Do they own toys or use them?). Childe doesn’t bother with using sex toys, he believes that he’s capable in his own ability to pleasure himself and his sexual partner. They’re also not really a massive turn on for him either, however, he’s open to trying new things, and sex toys aren’t out of bounds.

U = Unfair (How much do they tease?). Childe loves to tease and taunt you. He likes seeing how desperate you get for his cock, and desperation makes him horny.

V = Volume (How loud are they, what sounds do they make?). He is loud. Child is confident and has a lot of pride in himself, and during sex he really expresses this, especially through his sounds and volume. He has loud moans and whimpers, and constantly praises and dirty talks to you while you engage in sexual activities; he isn’t afraid of making sounds, unlike other men, and he prides himself on this. He makes sure that you know how much you’re pleasuring him.

W = Wild Card (A random NSFW Head canon of choice). Childe has beautiful hands and fingers; and he enjoys putting them to use. He thoroughly enjoys fingering your pussy, and whenever he has the chance, he’ll slip his fingers into you and feel the insides of your cunt; he also gets a lot of joy from watching you cum all over his fingers.

X = X-Ray (What’s inside his pants?). He has a slim and tall frame, because of his height, he is not lacking in the dick department; Childe measures out at a large 6.8 inches and is slightly thin in regards to girth, however his cock is more than enough to pleasure any woman.

Y = Yearning (Sex Drive). Oh, does he have a high sex drive. Usually, he is the one initiating sexual intercourse and he’s constantly thinking about you, in both wholesome and horny ways.

Z = ZZZ (How quickly do they fall asleep after sex?). Immediately. As soon as you two finish having sex, Childe is right off to sleep. This is usually because he goes for many rounds, enough to knock himself out.

[yennefer-of-vengerbergs]

Elixir of the Colossus

Kinktober 2024 - Day 12 - Size Difference (from this prompt list)

Look at me, writing something for a prompt event for the first time, and just in time too 😆 (it's already the 12th where I'm from, so it counts, if I do say so myself 😁)

Rating: E (18+)

Pairing: Astarion x Syanna (my Dark Urge OC)

Summary: Astarion accidentally drinks an elixir of the Colossus, which only leads to a very tantalising prospect for both himself and Syanna.

Tags: inappropriate use of Elixir of the Colossus, smut with feelings (and banter), sexually explicit content, oral sex (m!receiving, f!receiving), vaginal fingering, established relationship

Word count: 3472

Divider from here

Tags:

@iizven | @bg3-fanfic-reblogs

If you want to be added to my tag list, please let me know in a comment or message!

Read below or on AO3. Comments are appreciated so please feel free to leave them 💖

Syanna couldn’t help the grin that had spread over her face. The fact that Astarion had managed to accidentally drink an Elixir of the Colossus was something she wasn’t quite surprised by, but the results were certainly interesting to see. 

As expected, if one were to guess strictly based on the name, he had grown much larger and taller, and, if one were to guess once more, much stronger as well. 

He, on the other hand, seemed irritated.

“Honestly, who puts a potion in a wine bottle? Couldn’t they have labelled it at least?”

She laughed.

“I did mention you probably shouldn’t drink it without seeing what it was, didn’t I?”

“Really, darling? That’s what you have to say? What if it was poison, hm? What then?” he replied, despite the fact it wasn’t actually helping his case. 

Syanna raised an eyebrow at that. 

“All the more reason not to drink it then, hm?” she moved closer to him, “And not to worry, I have antidotes for poison anyway.”

“Here I was, hoping for a loving and understanding reaction from my darling, and what does she do? She mocks me!” he said dramatically, as if he had been deeply offended and wounded. 

She giggled at his antics. She then looked up at him, so she wouldn’t be talking to his chest.

Gods, he was tall.

In any case, playfulness and jokes aside, she had a point that she wanted to make.

“Oh, I can be plenty loving and understanding.” she reached up to his face, caressing his cheek, “But maybe consider not being as impulsive? Like you said, it could have been something else.” she looked at him with affection before continuing, “And honestly?That’s what worries me out of all…this.” she gestured in his general direction, trying to mimic the fact that he had grown in size.

He looked at her, eyes widening slightly, in that way that always disarmed her completely, before nodding and pulling her closer to himself. 

He then cleared his throat.

“Well, I suppose it’s a good thing this was the only side effect it had.”

Syanna smiled.

“Mhm, and it suits you, too.”

“Most things do, darling.” he couldn’t help but smirk, which only made her giggle again.

“Modest, as always, I see.”

“And looking perfect as always, don’t forget that.” 

He then took her by surprise, if the startled sound she made was any indication, his hands lowering and lifting her into his arms so he could kiss her. It was gentle, yet firm and full of affection, all at the same time, which only made it all the more perfect and all their own. A small moan left Astarion as he felt Syanna’s fingers grasping his hair, feeling the gentlest of tugs before she slowly dragged her fingernails over his scalp with one hand, while the other arm was wrapped around his neck for support. Smiling into the kiss, he squeezed her thighs as he walked them both over to their shared bed, sitting down with her on his lap, continuing to hold her close against him.

And she felt so much smaller than usual in his arms. 

Astarion couldn’t help but enjoy that feeling, especially with how she seemed to just melt into him, chasing his touch.

A sigh left him when she eventually pulled away from their kiss, her lips swollen and flushed from it. 

Then there was the way she looked at him, with love and affection so clearly on display. Or how she traced his face with her fingers. And how she smiled at him. 

It all made him feel…happy. 

Content. 

All because he had everything he could ever want. 

And all of it was with her.

A pleasant hum escaped him when she had started to trace one of his ears with her fingertips, his eyes closing from the sensation, enjoying every moment of it, every teasing pass she made, back and forth, and oh so slowly. When he opened them once again, she was still smiling. 

“This suits you too.”

He couldn’t help but return the smile.

“Another one of the many things that do, darling.”

Syanna giggled once more before pressing a quick kiss to his lips. She then looked at him.

“Is this alright?”

“Oh, my love, it absolutely is.”

Then, Astarion pulled her closer towards him, so that she was higher up, pressing kisses along her jaw until he reached her neck, making her sigh, just as a shiver ran down her spine. His hands had begun wandering over her body, caressing everywhere he could reach before slipping under the shirt she wore, finally feeling so much more of her skin under his palms. But at the same time, he wanted more, wanted to actually see her.

More of her.

All of her.

It was the only reason why he stopped kissing her neck, shifting them just enough to be able to slowly start undressing her, unbuttoning her shirt, sliding it down her arms, letting his own hands linger on her for longer, each touch filled with need - his own need for her, for closeness, to feel her and how she reacted to him. And for how that was reflected in her, how she needed him, how she continued to reach for him, to keep him close, to melt into his touch. 

He then felt her shifting slightly, the smallest of groans leaving her as she tried to settle more comfortably. 

“Sorry, my leg was falling asleep.” she explained.

So Astarion moved them both - although slightly awkwardly, obviously not quite used to the change caused by the elixir - so that she was laying on her back, with him above her. 

“Well, we can’t have that, can we now?” he smirked.

Another giggle. Gods, he loved it when she giggled like that.

“My hero.” she smiled.

“Aren’t I just?”

He kissed her again, one hand reaching for her once more, cupping a breast, teasing and kneading through the fabric of the brassiere she wore, her breathing starting to quicken. 

The smallest of whimpers left her as Astarion pulled away from her, getting up so that he could continue undressing her. She watched as he removed her boots, his fingers lingering on each ankle each time. And she kept watching eagerly, anticipation building, as he then reached for her trousers, his fingers hooking both into them and the underwear she wore, raising her hips to help him with pulling them off her. Once he had thrown them on the floor, Astarion’s attention was on her once again. 

“Gods, you’re beautiful.” he breathed, as he made his way back to her on the bed, “Always so beautiful.” he kissed along her stomach, moving up towards her breasts, teasing each one, be it with a hand, his mouth, or by gently letting his fangs drag onto every exposed part of her soft, plush skin. 

“Flatterer.” she said, in between the sighs of pleasure she breathed out from the attention he was spoiling her with already. 

Astarion looked at her, amusement obvious in his expression. 

“I’ll have you know, darling, I am being the picture of utmost honesty right now.” 

She grinned, pulling him into a kiss, soft moans and grunts leaving both of them, her hands slowly wandering and caressing, reaching for him as he got back up, watching as he began to undress. 

Her eyes widened once he stood in front of her, fully naked. He was always a sight to behold, even more so in that moment, given the circumstances, but there was no denying it, they would certainly have to find some…workarounds.

“Well, that’s going to be…a tight fit.” she quipped.

“Oh good, puns…” Astarion groaned, his face the image of mock annoyance.

Syanna giggled at that, followed by another grin. 

“Fine, fine, how about…a bit of a stretch?”

She fully laughed when she saw him rolling his eyes, still trying to hide his amusement.

“Gods above…”

“I’m a comedic genius and you know it, love.”

He raised an eyebrow in reply.

“Do keep telling yourself that, darling.”

“I will, don’t worry.” she sat up, extending a hand towards him, “Now, get back here and let me spoil you.”

“Now that, I like the sound of.” he replied, already making his way back towards her, his mouth finding hers once more, his hands moving over her until they reached her brassiere, finally removing it, baring her to him fully, before lowering them both on the bed once more. 

Syanna sighed into their kiss when she felt his length between them, rested onto her stomach, enjoying the tantalising feel and  sheer size of him on her. Astarion pulled away shortly after, looking smugly at her. 

“And I think we can still find a way or two to enjoy ourselves.” he purred. 

She stretched languidly underneath him, her eyes closed, humming in agreement. 

“I may have a few ideas already.”

“Is that so?” he leaned in closer to her, “ Why don’t you show me then?” he whispered in her ear, making her shiver. 

She did so love it when he whispered to her, his voice not unlike a low purr. Opening her eyes, she placed a hand on his chest, gently guiding him to lie down for her as she moved to be the one straddling him. Leaning down, she began to tease him, gently nibbling at an earlobe, one hand resting on his shoulder, while the other traced his other ear, then along his jaw and down his neck, enjoying the small, breathy sounds he made, all for her. All because of her - she truly loved seeing him enjoy himself in this way, with her bringing him pleasure in whichever way she could, in whichever way he wanted, something that always added to her own enjoyment of their intimate moments. 

And how she knew just what he enjoyed…

Astarion groaned when he felt her lips moving to his neck, the hand which was tracing his features making its way lower and lower between them until she reached his cock, which she teased just as gently with her fingertips, smiling when she felt his hips moving towards her, wanting more of her touch. Shifting slightly, she took him into her hand, slowly moving along his hardening length, her thumb teasing his tip every now and then, spreading the precum that had begun to gather. At the same time, she watched him, taking in each of his reactions, each moan, each sigh, each movement he made, finding it truly intoxicating, heat already pooling inside of her. 

Wanting nothing more than to feel more of him in any way she could, Syanna let go of him briefly as she moved lower, trailing kisses along his chest, his stomach, his hips, until she finally reached his cock. Keeping her eyes on him, she kissed his tip, a smile appearing as Astarion squirmed at the sensation. All she wanted was to give him more of that, of anything he would have wanted, so she carried on, taking him in her hand once more, her tongue darting out and licking along him, all the way from the tip to base, savouring the taste and feel of him, pleased to see the way he responded to her attention. 

Finally, she took him in her mouth, her lips closing around him, a low moan leaving her at the sensation. 

Gods, he was so much bigger now.

She began moving her head, slowly taking more and more of him, as much of him as she could handle, with each movement she made, Astarion’s hands gripping the sheets as he moaned, which only spurred her on.

Perfect, everything about him, about the intimacy they were sharing, was so utterly perfect…

Her hand reached for his own, holding on to it as he gripped it in return, wanting more of the closeness that they shared, all while she continued to suck and lick and swallow around him, only stopping to catch her breath. Even then, in between those moments, she would still shower him with her full attention, her mouth finding his balls, kissing and teasing and sucking on them as well, her free hand lazily moving along his twitching cock, the low coil inside of him tightening more and more with each moment, bringing him closer to the edge, the lewdest of noises leaving him. 

“More, darling…I need…more.”

She couldn’t help but smile, pleased at how he was melting under her touch, panting and moaning.

“Only if you ask nicely.” she teased, her thumb paying particular attention to his sensitive tip.

“You wicked-” he groaned when he felt her tongue running over his slit, tasting and teasing him again, his back arching, his hips thrusting upwards in an attempt to get his point across, “-little witch…”

“Now, that’s not very nice, is it?” she smirked, before licking along his length once more, earning another sigh from Astarion.

“...Please.”

Syanna hummed, taking him into her mouth once more, her tongue swirling around him, greedily gathering all of the precum from his leaking slit, savouring the taste of him. She could tell he was close, what with the way he was gasping and moaning her name, or how he twitched and tensed when her mouth found him, or how his hand gripped hers even tighter than before. 

And she wanted nothing more than to push him over that edge…

Her other hand had begun to wander across his stomach, caressing him wherever she could reach, all while she took as much of him as she could in her mouth once again, a low, throaty moan leaving her as she felt each twitch, each shallow thrust into her mouth - so careful not overwhelm her - that perfect outline of him, even that vein that ran along his length, that she so enjoyed focusing on each and every time. And she carried on doing so, time seemingly stretching, with nothing else mattering in that moment, Astarion’s own moans and gasps acting like music to her ears until finally, his climax washed over him, filling her mouth with his seed, which she swallowed even more greedily than before. Once he was fully spent, a dazed look apparent on his face, she let go of him, moving to rest her head on his chest.

Astarion, on the other hand, had pulled her into a kiss, holding her close to himself, stroking her back lazily, enjoying just how blissful everything had been, and still was.

Eventually, he moved them so that she was underneath him once again, one knee then hooking under her own, spreading her legs to accommodate him. She looked at him through her lashes, gasping as his hand slipped between them both, teasing her slick folds before finding her clit and gently rubbing circles on it. She moaned at the sensation, her back arching and a shiver running down her spine as he continued his ministrations, followed by a whine when he pulled his hand away. 

Astarion leaned closer to her.

“Look at you, so needy already.” he whispered, his fingers ghosting over her before teasing her entrance, feeling just how wet she already was.

She squirmed under his touch, wanting, needing more of it. 

“Ah, patience, love.” he dragged a finger along her, spreading more of that same wetness over her folds, “This isn’t something you want to rush.”

Of course he would be a relentless tease, what else did she expect?

Rush or no rush, teasing or no teasing, it didn’t mean she wouldn’t at least try to get what she wanted. 

She reached for his hand, wanting to guide him to where she wanted him to be, but Astarion was quicker than her, moving it out of reach, tutting.

“Naughty, aren’t you?”

Syanna smiled a cheeky smile.

“Only for you.”

Besides, two could play at the game he had started.

She started running her own fingers over her skin, starting from her throat, then moving lower, towards her breasts, stopping only to tease a nipple before continuing to go lower, and lower and-

Astarion stopped her, grabbing her hands, bringing them back up and above her head, holding them in place with his own.

“Whatever will I do with you, darling…” he purred.

She arched her hips into him. 

“You could always touch me yourself, you know.” she suggested, looking at him as innocently as she could.

Astarion pretended to think about her suggestion.

“Only if you ask nicely, darling.” It was his turn to smirk at her. 

Syanna exhaled sharply, an amused sound leaving her as she grinned.

“Please, Astarion…” she sighed.

Letting go of her hands, he pulled her into a kiss before his mouth made its way lower, nipping at her skin, kissing over it, enjoying the way she continued to sigh and softly moan whenever he’d reach a particularly sensitive spot. 

And the way she would run her hands through his hair, or splay them wherever she could reach, or just hold on to him…

And then there were those delightful noises she made when his mouth found her breasts once more, lavishing each one with all his attention, be it by placing kisses on them, or by flicking his tongue over her nipples, or by teasing her with his fangs.

He made his way lower, trailing kisses all along her stomach, his hands gripping her hips as he reached her mound, placing a kiss there as well. 

Pulling her closer, he settled in between her legs, his mouth so tantalisingly close to her that her heart was racing with anticipation. 

She gasped when she felt his tongue on her, overwhelming as it was. He was overwhelming, in the best possible way, as he lapped at her folds, his tongue dipping into her, indulging in her, savouring everything she offered. Every moan, every little shake of excitement, every gentle tug on his hair and every pass of her nails over his scalp as he spoiled her thoroughly. And especially the louder moan she let out when his tongue made its way back to her clit, teasing and licking before catching it between his lips. Or, even better, how she gasped and arched her back as he looked up at her when he slid a finger inside of her, surprised by the size of it.

Syanna then met his eyes as he went to grip her thigh with one hand, while the other reached for hers, holding on to it, mirroring her own action from before. 

He slipped a second finger inside of her, made much easier by just how deliciously wet she was. She moaned his name, enjoying the way he stretched her as he fingered her, the sensation truly incredible to her. 

It was almost dizzying. 

Then he had found that spot that always drove her mad, making her cry out.

“Gods, Astarion-” she moaned again, so wantonly, moving her hips, leaning more into him, wanting more of his mouth and fingers. “Please…”

He grinned at that, stopping briefly. 

“Please what, my dear?”

Syanna groaned as she tried to move her hips. 

He let go of her hand so that he could still her movements.

“Ah, use your words, love.”

Another groan left her. 

“Please don’t stop…”

His fingers resumed their movements, although much slower than before, making her squirm.

“Although…” he teased her clit with his tongue as he spoke, “I don’t think that’s what you wanted to ask before, is it?” Astarion looked up at her from between her legs, waiting for her reply. 

“...Harder, please…” she sighed.

Astarion’s only reply was to pump his fingers in and out of her in a rougher manner, just the way he knew she enjoyed, his tongue lapping at her again. Her breath hitched, her legs tensed, all while one of her hands reached for him once more, the other making its way to a breast, kneading and teasing. 

All she could focus on was him and how he made her feel. 

On the wet, lewd noises from between her legs. The groans and humming coming from Astarion as he thoroughly ravished her.

On how she clenched around his fingers, the heat that had been pooling inside of her eventually turning to fire, until it could no longer be contained, a mixture of moans and curses leaving her lips as her climax finally washed over her so intensely, she thought she would see stars. 

She wasn’t sure how long it had been when Astarion had pulled her into his arms, one hand caressing her back. Probably only moments, but time had seemed to stretch once again. 

If only it could actually do that. 

Because, being in his arms like that, feeling nothing but bliss and love? It certainly was one moment she would not have minded lasting indefinitely. 

[hey-august]

Ok but what's the best way to get fem Buggy in the mood. Flirt a lil? Wink a lil? Drop some hints or do you grab her by the shoulders and say "please ride my face"?

-rory

yessss, ty for feeding the fem!buggy brainrot @rorywritesjunk!!

On the one hand, it doesn’t take much. On the other hand, she can be a bit…oblivious?

Buggy overthinks things. Everything. So she tries to downplay anything that she might overthink.

A cheeky wink and blowing a kiss? Playful fun. A stare that traces her figure? Maybe she buttoned her shirt wrong. Leaning in a little too close, bumping shoulders, talking right in her ear? You’re just being you. You’re in the mood for something sweet? She doesn’t have candy on her, so get your hand off her leg.

Okay, dial it up. An arm wrapped around her back, your hand sitting closer to her tits than her waist. Or maybe more on her ass than her hips. It’s…uh…nothing. You’re probably not paying attention. Still whispering in her ear? Brushing her hair out of the way? Your lips grazing her ear just slightly? Personal space, please! But also…don’t go far.

It all adds up, though. Even if Buggy doesn’t realize it, she certainly feels it. When you finally just say it outright, she can hardly convince herself otherwise.

You wanna fuck? Maybe you mean something else, but she’ll go along with it, just in case. Oh, maybe she can make a joke about being a sweet snack for you. You’d like that, right? It’s clever? Good thing she thought of it!

[woneuntonzz]

competitive academic rival!eunseok x overachiever, afab!reader

“ started with a spark,¹ now we're on fire.² ” ; (2/2)

warning/s: cussing, violent thoughts

content: songfic, enemies to lovers, academic rivals, fluff, incy-wincy bit of angst, very lovey-dovey i'm actually attached, mention of other idol names for world building !!

wc: 7.4k!!

⋆⭒°｡⋆ i feel like we've made it pretty far, now we're stargazing ☄️ ; inspired by The Neighbourhood's Stargazing 🎶

It was a joke when Yunjin said Eunseok might take her place as your one and only best friend, but you figured there might be a slight truth to it. It wasn't that you'd dismiss Yunjin entirely, it's just that overtime, one instance of being project partners will become a sort of regimen for the two of you, him trailing behind you, calling out, “Partner, wait up!” as you walk to wherever you're headed. 

You would still exchange playful banters —some not sounding very playful at all— and would still contest each other during class recitations, but it was all fair and square, unlike before where it'd be blood, sweat and tears, not in a literal sense of course. 

“You should write this part. You're great at expressing your opinion.” This time, you two partnered up for statement writing —that supposedly was for a group of three.

“You really think so?” you tilted your head at him, jestful taunting hinted in your voice.

“Yeah. You're beautiful.” 

You knew he wasn't finished speaking, but a part of you wished it had ended there.

“—your narrative I mean. If there's anything I'd like to correct, I'd say you take a little too long to get to the point, but overall your writing is great.” you nod, flailing away the lost hope in your eyes.

It's been three months since you've grown to treat each other like a friend. It was something your past selves would've never foreseen, like a switch had been accidentally turned on. 

You wouldn't change a thing, though. Even if everything was only by chance, you wish it would stay till after highschool graduation, or, till all of your senses died out —till you were sure there was no way of seeing or hearing him ever again. 

The thought was so unhinged for you at first, but denying is for underdogs, and you were no loser. 

Considering the time you've spent with him, a big part of the blame is on him. Well how could you not blame him? when your conversations were at its tamest, he would resort to saying things that made you think more than when your history teacher would throw around riddles for you to figure out what he was trying to teach. 

“You really like green? that's kind of gross.” you scoffed at his comment after he'd observe that most of the things you owned were of your favorite color.

You hold up your phone, showing the back of your fern-colored phone case. “It's fern. Maybe you're thinking about a gross shade of green —why does it matter to you anyways?”

“I just thought you'd like a different type of color, like blue.” he slightly shrugged, his eyes wandering to the keychain dangling at your bag's zipper.

“I like blue, but I see it all the time, everywhere, so my eyes are kind of tired of it at this point.” you gave him an innocent smile, one that would soon falter when he replied,

“You see me all the time, I hope you like me too.”

What kind of idiot says that? —you were determined not to emit much of a reaction, you feared it might be too much for the both of you, and that he might be just that friendly with those he considered friends. Of course I like you. —you weren't sure though, if it was only harmless feelings you'd have for a best friend, or if it was this almost electric sensation that made everything else around you fade away from the void of your mind as you isolate yourself with the thought of him. 

After two weeks of somewhat careful reflecting, you realized that it was the latter. 

He'd accept his feelings around the same time you did, but he most certainly caught it first. He'd tell himself that you never minded his incidental wording, not realizing just how bad he was at reading people. He just wouldn't catch the way your eyes would linger from where they last situated after he spoke because he was too afraid to look at you long enough to catch your reaction. 

You were both so convinced that you did such a great job of hiding from each other, but the people around you could say otherwise. 

Eunseok would start biting the inside of his cheek when Shotaro told him, “You know what you two remind me of? like a very, painfully slow basketball game.”

“Come again?” his friend laughs at him, poking fun at the confusion plastered on his face.

“She likes you too, I mean, why else would she stick around you and always be your partner?” The idea made him bite into his bottom lip, reminiscing about the way things used to be before the near fallout —the essay incident. 

She's a people pleaser —but he couldn't just say that, and he knew you struggled with it too, he just wouldn't figure out why just yet. “She just finds it hard to say no to anyone.”

“Okay, partner.” Shotaro's teasing had him shaking his head.

It was something he wanted to help you with, saying no, taking care of yourself first. You kept giving and giving, it was something he never understood about you when he knew it's normal to be tired, angry, sad, and it's most certainly normal to refuse to save yourself from the anguish.

With you, he chose to be careful. He wanted you to be comfortable with him, to be ready when you finally him why you would always say yes to everyone, why you were so stubborn and so willing to give so much of your time and energy for the benefit of someone else who wouldn't even bat an eye if you got hit by a speeding truck.

It pained him to see you fake your keenness whenever Yuri, Ahra, or some other piece of shit chased after you in the hallway. They'd never directly say it, but they were basically asking you for their grades, all while you had to make sure yours were better than last quarter's results.

If you weren't taking care of yourself, he would, as much as his courage allowed him to.

The end of the school year was just right around the corner, you were busy all month preparing, elections for next year's student council were being held before the end of the year.

Eunseok was already a part of the student council, he was a public information officer, a very recognized one at that, but this time he was running for president. 

He wanted you to run alongside him, as his vice president, but you were afraid that it was way beyond your limits. You have been a part of the student council before, the year he transferred in your school, you were a peace officer, but that's the farthest you've gone. You've lost elections the next year, and the current year, you lost the public information officer position to him.

Still, he was able to encourage you to run for secretary. And like he promised —though not verbally— he helped you throughout everything.

“I haven't gotten much sleep last night, sorry for drooling on your sleeve.” you lazily tried to wipe off the wet stain on his forearm that you had accidentally napped on whilst he explained something about initiatives, you couldn't quite recall.

He had actually stopped speaking when he saw the way you tried to fight your drowsiness. He felt bad for almost laughing, but the way your eyelids would shut itself and you forcing them open only to fail seconds later, he thought it was adorable. 

“It's okay.” he moved his forearm, it was a signal to tell you to lie your head on it again. “You can rest.”

Your mind was still a bit hazy. You wiped your eyes and you would keep doing so, progressively becoming more forceful until he stopped you by taking ahold of your wrist. “Hey, stop, your eyes will hurt.”

He looked at them. He could almost feel your exhaustion, but even through it he could only see how lovely the color in your eyes were. 

“Sorry, I was just up all night doing…” What did you do? oh, right,

“Someone else's work? don't be sorry. Give yourself a break, please.” you would lock eyes with him when he said please, his voice was pure silk, gliding through the very cracks of your soul, it almost made your eyes brim with tears. 

The elections would roll around. You two would be inseparable by then, leading people to think you were running for vice president since he was with you more than he was with the actual running vice of your partylist. Even then, if they were being honest, they'd vote for the two of you. The pair of you were like a premium package in the market, two perfectly flawed individuals promoting your ambitions to the whole school. 

Your confidence flourished like never before, and the stutter you always had when speaking, you were way past it. You received so much support and encouragement, not only from him, but also from your best friend Yunjin who ran for vice president and other candidates in your partylist. 

You were happy with how everything was turning out, and so was he. He was confident you'd get the spot, not even caring any longer if he lost. He just wanted to see you succeed in something you've worked so hard to achieve for so long. 

“I hope I get it this time. I've been beating myself up for not having enough confidence to get myself into bigger opportunities.” he heard you say to Yunjin when you were all getting ready to go home. 

He didn't need to say anything because your friend was already there to assure you, but his stare was enough to tell you that he cared. He wanted you to know that he believed in you, more than you believe in yourself.

The sequel to your odyssey wouldn't be announced till the next school year began, but until then, you two would keep contact. It would start off with him popping up in your notifications with a little, hey how r u —which would shortly be followed by, it's eunseok btw.

yeah ik it's u —you laughed quietly to yourself, legs against your chest as you got comfy on your living room sofa. i alr have u saved in my contacts.

he would immediately reply, oh right

—lmao

You would subconsciously pucker your lips as you typed, whats up?  

the sky? —you physically cringed at his reply, funny for being so unfunny.

bro? 😭

bro…

idk it's been two weeks

since school ended?

yeah

and it'll only take like less than a month till we're back

but suffering is for the weak 💪

right 💪

kinda miss it too

props to u for missing school ig

i meant to say you

lmao

It was normal to say things like that to your friends, you and Yunjin say it to each other when you reunite after a considerably long time of not seeing each other, so, this must be… normal, right?

that's oddly sweet of u

hbu?

same

it's not the same w/o ur annoying ass

annoying or not

i know u love my ass

eww????

Maybe not his ass. 

You two would go on with your little convos every other day, that would soon turn into everyday, to every other hour, into phone calls.

would it be weird if i asked to call rn

why

u wanna?

yea

feeling lazy to type jus saying

call me then

You thought maybe you sounded too sure of yourself than you actually were, cause when he called, you fumbled, trying to fix yourself before you answered —it was pointless since it was an audio call and he won't even be able to see the pillow lining marked on your face from laying down for so long as you chatted with him. 

He also had no reason to feel lazy at all, in fact the only activity he'd been up to is on his phone, talking to you. He just wanted to hear from you again, because at that point you two still had sixteen days left before you got to see each other again.

“Y/n” he spoke as soon as you picked up.

“Eunseok.” you said back, imitating his tone. 

“The voting results are out, I'm looking at it right now, on my laptop.” you could almost hear him gulp before he spoke again. “We got it.”

You yelped, but rushed to cover your mouth. “Shit, is that for real?”

“Yep. It's for real alright.” his smile was wide, like the one he wore when you finally accepted his offer to be his project partner.

“Oh my fucking —thank you Seok. I love you, I love you guys so much, holy shit.” his eyes were wide open as he listened to your celebratory exclamations. 

You loved him? He knew it was your utter excitement speaking, but deep down he just wished he could hear it again, just those three precious words.

──────────﹒★﹒﹒──﹒﹒★﹒──────────

Time flew by, but not like how it usually would. This time it actually seemed to be a little slower. Maybe it was because you spent the majority of your break talking to him, which you didn't even think was possible. What was even there for the two of you to talk about outside of school? you two had never gone below surface level conversations, then suddenly he was approaching you in school all smiley while holding a cup of iced coffee?

“Drink up Sleepy, my favorite dwarf.” he sounded so sweet, but it was a tease. 

Suddenly your height became a topic of discussion, comparing you to one of Snow White's seven dwarfs, and he'd pinpoint the one who was most like you. Sleepy, always sleepy —and also pretty small. You weren't even that small, he was just a bit —no, he was a total tease. You'd mention it was your dad's genes, then it would turn into you telling him that you and your dad weren't really close at all. 

It was a drastic shift, but he learned to appreciate the trust you've granted him by telling him those things, and he would find out about the emotional neglect that went unnoticed by you yourself. 

You carefully took the cup from his hand, and with a smile you said, “Thank you, Seok.”

If back then he hid his emotions from you and everyone else, now he had his smile on full display, facing its very cause, you. He had learned how to read you now, and he knew he was getting somewhere when your voice had started to soften at certain times. Your voice that was usually dominant, almost sounding demanding in a way, he would be one of the few who would hear it completely disappear, and taking its place would be a sound he could only describe as his sweetest dreams.

Hearing you speak again in face to face for the first time after a while felt unreal almost, he felt ecstatic from your voice alone, so much so that he almost forgot that he was to be announced as student council president that day.

During orientation, you would be declared as student council secretary, and he's the president —the president who stood next to you instead of his designated place, next to the vice president. Yunjin stood where he was supposed to be, you noticed and whispered to him, “Hey, go back to your position.” but he'd just chuckle at your furrowed eyebrows. “Seok?”

His gaze was fixated on you, and it was like the whole world stopped for the two of you. “Hmm?”

“Congratulations, and, thank you. I really owe you one.” he chuckled again, and all you could see was him. 

“You don't owe me anything, but thank you for trusting me, congrats Sleepy.” his smile caused your mind to almost lose itself, eyes wandering down to the glint on his lips. 

Suddenly you wondered if they would feel as soft as the words he had spoken to you. You were ashamed that you would think that about your best friend, but he was thinking the same thing, eyes fixated on your velvet lips.

Nothing would come out of it, for fact, it would be as if nothing ever happened. But you both knew, the way you looked at each other was different. Heck, you could never even spare anyone else a second of eye contact. At that point, you two knew each other well enough, as opponents, and eventually as close friends. Now he just had to figure out how to know you as his lover. 

──────────﹒★﹒﹒──﹒﹒★﹒──────────

The two of you would be busy as ever and being together in those situations served as a perk, for even with the urge to just throw away your paperwork and drop out of school, you were able to continue with each other's motivation, each other's smiles, each other's voices.

—each other's touch. “Are your hands okay?” 

He eyed your fingers that had green guard bandages on them. You've been writing a lot, not only for being a secretary, but also for the ridiculous amount of school work you had piled up and had to finish before the end of the week. 

He was hesitant, but you kept yourself busy and it gave him a push to just go for it. Moments later, your writing would be interrupted as a hand reached out for yours. 

“Rest for a while. We have plenty of time before the next period.” was all he said as he enclosed your hand in his grasp. 

His touch felt warm, relieving you of the pain and the pressure everything's been giving you lately. When he moved his thumb against your skin, you just wanted to drag him with you and run away from everything and everyone. 

Realization would only hit you when from a distance, you saw a few of your classmates looking at the two of you, then whispering to each other. 

“Hey Y/n, I hope you're not too busy—”

“What?” Ahra had approached again, but this time Eunseok answered for you.

“Oh, I just needed help with the gen bio activity.” she eyed your linked hands.

“Right, just give me your paper, I'll sort it out for you.” Ahra handed you her activity sheet, but it was Eunseok who'd snatch it from her hand and retort,

“You people can't do anything for yourselves? Jesus.” he had an ill-tempered glare that he kept on the paper he held, but he gave your hand a gentle squeeze. “If you need it so badly, I'll do It. Fifty bucks.”

“But I don't have fifty bucks on me right n—”

“Then go find someone else to pester.” he says as he hands Ahra's paper back to her. 

Ahra takes it and walks away in shame, and spite. Why did he have to be there to ruin everything?

You were worried Ahra would be up to speaking ill of you to others like past classmates have done to you before, but he reassured you.

“They don't have to matter, besides, you're not obligated to take responsibility for their own.” just think about you and I —he finishes his words in his mind, not afraid to admit, but afraid to say it. 

Even if he didn't say it, you were already thinking it. Because why would anything else matter when you had him and he had you. The summit of your dreams used to be these superficial things, and now it would be a future, a future of a better life, living off of pure contentment and bliss. A future together.

It would all remain unsaid, but you could feel it with each other. 

Through him, you would learn to say no without much thought of the consequences all you had to think about is his fond eyes greeting you once you've successfully overcome your struggles. 

And through you, he learned to be more open and considerate. He would finally see things from others' perspectives, helping him understand what he needed to do as the president of the student council, and as your… 

Well, what was he to you? What were you to each other?

The label would be unclear to everyone, and to you both, but you were sure that you had something. You shared the same feelings and the same longing whenever your time with each other was cut short.

It was almost as if your only reason to go to keep attending school was to see each other and be with each other. It was easier to stick around with one another since you were both major parts of the student council, so when people asked if you two had a thing, there was only one answer.

“Well, we run the student council.” and apparently you ran in each other's minds too. 

sleepy  

don't force yourself to go to school tmrw ok?

but there's literally a presentation

and?

if u present with a stuffy nose and phlegm in your throat would that be any better?

no…

good

u better rest and not tire urself with ANYTHING else

oki

thanks seok :>

miss u alr lol  

u know i miss u more

it's so hard to bear with these ppl without u around

see? this is why i need to go to school...

hell no

get ur ass some rest

i'll see u when u feel better <33

It was usually you who would be too sick to go to school, and he quickly picked up on your routine of going to school with allergies that'll turn into a fever by the end of the day, and you would be out of school for a day or two, and he'd always make sure to check in on you through messages or calls.

Soon enough though, he'd show up outside your house. It was a risky move, but he was always lucky enough that your parents weren't around to see him. 

“You're really outside my house? Are you crazy?” you sneezed into your phone right after you spoke.

You heard his sweet chuckle from the other line. “Yeah, cutie. I have something for you, can you go down? or is there a way for me to get in? Is it through the doggy door or your bedroom window?”

Your laughter was weak due to the phlegm in your body. “Wait, wait, I'll open the door for you.”

Somehow, the thought of seeing him gave you enough energy to rush down the stairs to welcome him. 

You ended the call on your phone as you opened the door, and there he was. “Hey Sleepy, looking real groggy there.”

A playful glare made its way onto your face, and he'd laugh loud enough for you to hear despite the distance.

“Can I come in?” of course you let him in.

He had about two hours before your parents came back. He got you food, very warm and comforting seaweed soup and a cup of warm lemon tea. 

He watched you eat a couple bites, very slowly and feebly. He grew worried about the way you struggled with just holding the spoon up to your mouth. “May I?”

Honestly, why'd he even ask? he would do it anyway even if you refused —in this case you weren't even able to utter a reply. He takes the spoon, and feeds you, being very gentle, even wiping away some stray soup from the corners or your lips and your chin. 

Luckily, you weren't too sick to miss his enamored eyes and for a moment he'd stop feeding you, wiping your bottom lip, allowing his gaze on it linger. Flustered, you'd bite down on it with the strength you had. 

He chuckles, looking down for a brief moment. “You're so adorable.” —and a soft pinch to your cheek.

──────────﹒★﹒﹒──﹒﹒★﹒──────────

Your final year in highschool has finally ended. Elation coursed throughout your body when you received your medal as salutatorian, and of course, he was your valedictorian.

All those years he thought he was graduating with not much to look forward to. It was life, he graduates, and graduates again, then he'd be out making big contributions to the economy. But now, you would be in his list of aspirations, because at that point, none of you have ever thought of confessing, but still looked in each other's eyes like they were the only ones that existed. 

The day of your graduation, he'd run to you —which startled you a bit— and carry you by your sides, spinning you once before settling you back down again. All you could hear was each other's laughter, and he'd engulf you in his embrace.

“We've made it pretty far.” —and you both wanted to go further, further from what you already had, a reassurance, a settlement.

You two would keep constant contact the whole time you prepared yourselves for college. It could be a miracle, or maybe it was truly meant to be —you two got into your dream university. 

In all honesty, he never had a dream university. He'd only have one when he heard it from you. “Yonsei seems like a great university.” —his dream will always and only lie with you.

You spent your days talking, daydreaming about college life. You both knew it wasn't something to daydream about since it would only get harder from then, but it was driven by the thought that all this time, you would still be together. Still, none of you would outrightly say it. 

“Imagine we'd get forced to drink with our seniors.” you let your phone lay close to your head on your bed as you spoke to him on call.

And to that he replied, “I'd never let that happen.”

You laughed, and it was the most beautiful song he's ever heard. He ended up laughing with you. 

“I'm serious.” he adds, still laughing. 

“I know, Seok. I know.”

The time would come eventually. You two would be in two different departments —he was in computer science— but fortunately, your seniors seemed to only know one place where they could pressure the freshmen to their favor.

Eunseok walks up to the table where you're at, you two have had your eyes on each other ever since you've step foot in that place. 

He held onto the strap of his shoulder bag, looking into your honeyed eyes. “Let's go home.”

Everyone had their eyes on him, then on you. “Woah, woah, and who's this pretty boy? Why are you cutting our Y/n's fun so short in the night huh?”

“Y/n doesn't drink.” your seniors looked at you and you nod, keeping your eyes on him.

You extend your hand out to him, and soon you would feel sanctuary. 

No other words were said as he pulled you along with him to the exit, not minding to spare the others another look. His hand still held onto yours as he walked you back to your dorm room. You were both quiet the entire time, your social batteries drained to its very limits from the orientation activities and the higher-ups pressuring the both of you to join them waste away.

Before completely letting go of you, you would both stop in front of your door, facing each other. 

“See, I told you so.” you laughed at his playful jabbing.

“Okay, my firefighter. Thank you for saving me.” his eyes wandered down to your lips once again, but they would shift back up to your forehead.

He wipes the bit of sweat on it with his thumb, letting his palm slowly glide down and rest on your cheek. 

“I said no, you know, but they kept insisting I come with them.” his hand went from your cheek to your chin, gently taking a hold of it.

“I know Sleepy. It's alright. It happened to me too.” 

You wondered what would happen next. The tension had only grown stronger, it was only the two of you in that hallway, it was you, him and the desire dispersed throughout the silence of the halls —but nothing was salvaged from it. The looks in your eyes yearned for the feeling of each other's lips, but he held back. 

His hands cupped your face, slightly squishing your cheeks together. “You kinda look like Keroppi.” a bittersweet chuckle leaves his mouth. “Good night, Y/n.”

Before he could walk away, your embrace would stop him, and he'd hug back, almost not wanting to ever let go. His hand wandered to the back of your head, gently caressing your hair. 

“Good night Seok.”

That night was definitely one to remember, one that made you realize, he's always loved Keroppi, does that mean he loves me too? —maybe you were taking it too far, but it wasn't impossible. You saw it, you felt it, his amore through the feeling of his skin against yours. 

Every moment you've shared with him felt like a push, just say it, just do it, but none of you would budge. 

Your best friend Yunjin was in the same department as him, she didn't see you as often as he would, but when she did, she wanted to just push your faces into each other, just kiss already —she'd think to herself as she observed the two of you just being so lost in each other.

At one point you'd feel bad for not spending as much time as you used to with her, but after talking to her about it, she reassured you that she wasn't an obligation for you to worry about, but she'd always be there when you needed her, and of course you would be there for her too. 

You thought you were lucky that both of your favorite people were in the same department, shared the same classes, that way it was easier for you to see them and hang out simultaneously. 

Doubt would start swimming around the oceans of your thoughts —one day you were set to meet them in the campus library. Your pace was a bit speedy, wearing such a gleeful smile, you walked to meet them again after the longest week of your life. The campus library was huge, but it wouldn't take you a while to spot them.

Your first instinct was to run up to them, but maybe it was your exhaustion that had stopped you from doing so and instead just stand there for a while, watching them laugh together from a distance, and they would get so close to each other that your breath almost hitched. 

You felt insecure, but also hated yourself for even allowing these feelings to surge. They're also good friends, your best friends, you were more fond of one of them for sure, but you both loved and cared for them just as much.

Your worries would subside once you were finally seated next to him. Your eyes lingered on each other's allure, it was quite clear that you two had this certain look reserved for each other. 

“Oh, look. The project partners are back again.” —your harmonious laughter would fill your ears.

At first it came easy, but then it wasn't.

Being in different departments meant seeing them from afar walking side by side, and you would find that they would be together a lot more than before.

When they'd meet with you, they were together, almost all the time. At first you thought, it was easier that way for them, and for you especially. 

Then love month came around. Everyone was busy preparing booths for the Feb Fair celebration. It was three days long, and everyone wanted it to be perfect, single or not, it was three days of just love, love for friends, family, for him.

Just a few days before Feb Fair started, despite your efforts of searching for him everywhere you could, sadly, your efforts would be futile. 

hi seok

been looking for u everywhere

u busy? —delivered, 4 hours ago.

sorry 

shit sorry 

i am kinda busy

but not like usual

it's for something vv special :))

that's nice 

you have any plans for feb fair?

anyone asked u out yet?

even if anyone did i would reject them lol

would u reject me then? —read, 10 minutes ago.

it's okay roppi lmaooo

tbh i'd say yes w/o u even asking

really?

so it's settled then?

you got it :3

shit

i got the prettiest date for feb fair 🙈

You seemed to have forgotten about the roots of your agitations once you've gotten a chance to talk with him again. 

You made sure you would look the prettiest when you were with him. You wore a blue dress, he never said it was his favorite, but you did see it quite often in the items he owned, and some in his wardrobe.

But maybe you should've gone for green. The first day of Feb Fair, entering the area of festivities, a band playing some overrated love song would serve as soft background music for everyone else indulged in the love, it's in the air as they'd claim.

Maybe this would be the day, the day you would finally admit to each other's feelings, confess.

You walked around, taking in the luminous fairy lights, and the fake flowers that accompanied them. Even if they were artificial, they were still really pretty, and you would be the living depiction of those flowers, your dress flowing with the cool breeze as your eyes glimmered with the stars. 

When he saw you, his whole world stopped. You were suddenly the only one he could see. He wished he was quick enough to rush over to you, hold your hand, but you were gone, like the wind. 

You had seen him handing over a bouquet to your best friend —Yunjin, and at that moment you thought she looked so perfect that you thought your presence was unwanted. 

Maybe it was a mistake, maybe he didn't mean it at all. Maybe you were only meant to be a bridge for them. 

That night, you would lock yourself in your room, ignoring the calls and messages in your phone and your own roomate. You just kept yourself under your covers. 

“Hey, um, Y/n, Eunseok's outside.”

“Please tell him to go away.” you cried out. 

And your roommate would do just that. His heart would sink, but it was a lot worse compared to when you had first rejected his efforts of asking you as his project partner. 

It was like the past all over again. There you cried all alone, then, it used to be because of an essay and his egocentric self, now it was because of a bouquet, and his fleeting promise. 

He just hoped he could talk to you again.

y/n it wasn't what you thought it was

i'll explain to you when we meet again

please

i'm sorry

i'll wait for you by the water fountain tomorrow —delivered, 10 hours ago. 

be my partner, please? —delivered, 30 minutes ago.

It was the second day of the Feb Fair. You were still isolating yourself in your room. You wondered where they could be. You still hadn't opened your phone so you thought, maybe they're together, like they always were.

You hopelessly sat on your bed, munching on some snacks. Suddenly it would hit you that all the food you had in your pantry was from him. Holding back your tears, you would let the packet of gummy worms fall down on your bed, with you feeling defeated. 

Feeling like you needed to move, you got up from your bed, weakly opening your closet. 

I should've worn the green dress. —unlike the blue one, it was more casual, and the most important detail of all, it had a cute little frog on the right chest area. You let your finger trace the frog imprint, almost tearing up again. 

Closing your closet, you turned around, ready to plop yourself back down onto your bed, but your phone lit up again. 

maybe tomorrow? :)) —read, 4 minutes ago.

When he saw that you had read his message, he wore a hopeful smile. Maybe, just maybe, you'd show up the next day, or maybe in the night. He promised that this time, he won't skimp on his words, he was going to tell you everything.

It was already dark, nearing 9:00 pm when he had messaged you. You were admittedly worried and guilty for making him wait till that time of the night. 

Reading through his messages again, you knew you needed to show up. Because you trusted him. Trust, you almost forgot. You have given him so much of it. 

The next day, you got up relatively early, at least earlier than your roommate. She'd wake up to you already dolled up.

“That's a cute dress.” she said, she had her hands against her sides, looking around for a while before asking, “Um, if you don't mind, are you and Eunseok… okay now?”

“We'll be alright.” the tiredness in your voice was still evident, and so your roommate would just give you a smile, nodding as she left to go to the bathroom. 

You were going to make it right. This was the final push, you would finally tell him how you've felt about him, from the very start of it all up to now when you longed for him.

Still at the water fountain, Eunseok sat there anxiously. He sat there, and in his hand was a box. It was all, and everything he had kept of you, and if ever he lost you —and he prays to God it would never happen— he'd have your memories in this box, his most cherished ones.

6:00 pm, his eyes grew a thin layer of water as he watched everyone else with such loving eyes and sugared laughter. He looked up at the sky, and he thanked it for being so full for that night, full of glittering stars. He took it as a sign that you would come soon, because last night there were no stars at all, and you didn't arrive. 

“I'll be your partner.”

He froze in his spot, stare still fixated on the constellations above him. 

He stood up, bringing his gaze down to you. You eyed the box he held with both his hands, “Y/n.”

Your eyes lit up, hearing his voice emit your name very faintly. You let him walk closer to you, just enough for you to see his eyes glisten against the fairy lights. 

“The flowers, well, I helped Yunjin look for them. They were meant to be for someone else, she won't tell me who. I'm guessing it might be Chaewon since she kept asking me about her, if you remember, Chaewon's my cousin.” —well shit. Isn't it just so easy to be stupid?

“Sorry.” he hurriedly used one of his hands, hesitantly reaching out for the one he's been dying to hold since the day he thought he'd lose you, for the second time.

“Don't be sorry. Please. I should've…” he glanced down at your entwined hands, your hand was cold. “... just told you that…”

Again, he'd struggle to find his words and you'd bring your hand up to his cheek, “Seok?”

“I like you and I think I'm in love with you —no, I am. I…” he was almost breathless, and you'd gently move his head to meet his soft eyes. 

“Song Eunseok, I want to be your partner, in the long run, and maybe, till I can no longer write essays and make grammatical errors, will you be my partner —for life?”

Eunseok had always dreamed of going to space and seeing the shimmering little specks of wonder up-close. He knew they were just fiery rocks, but unlike him, who others would describe as still and emotionless, these rocks shined, and they were beautiful. You are so beautiful. He'd finally have a star to himself. His dreams, driven by his childhood imaginations, were coming true, in the form of you.

Finally, he would lean in, finally feeling your plush lips against his. You're as sweet as he imagined. 

“Till I can no longer correct you, I'll be your partner.” he uttered against your lips.

Later that night, you two would be seated on the ground, leaning your backs against the base of the water fountain —he'd let you use his arm as a cushion for your back, well, he insisted. The fireworks had already died down, and you two were still there.

You were going through the box he had prepared for you. 

“You kept this?” It was the essay, the nameless copy. 

“Yeah, but look, look.”

He had written stuff all over it, and drew a bunch of Keroppis. And he had checked it like how your English teacher back then would, with one singular correction where he wrote, you missed a word miss know-it-all, doesn't matter though, i miss you more.

“When did you do this?” he watched fondly as you chuckled, reading through his little notes and doodles.

“I checked that essay the day you rejected my 'partner proposal' for the second time.” you looked at him wide-eyed. 

“You… missed me then?”

“Yes?” 

Then you'd see receipts of every breakfast coffee, every ice cream meeting —you never called it a date because you were just being professional, every candy packet and every wet wipe purchase he had ever made for you, all stapled together with little tmi's on them, y/n really likes green. i should buy more green shirts.

You chortled. “Don't laugh!”

“No! I just think it's really cute!”

wait holy shit, i wish i could draw well THE WAY SHE SMILED AT ME. i won. fuck everyone. 

“You've liked me for that long?” looking into his eyes again, you'd melt into his loving stare. 

He had been watching you smile through his sweet little shenanigans that you never would've thought he'd been up to this time. “Yes, I have.”

You bit your bottom lip, still your smile showed through it. With a gulp, you'd place a quick kiss on his lips, making him freeze once again. 

With an innocent smile, you went back to rummaging through the box. “Wait, this was my favorite pen. You hid it?”

“I've been using it around you ever since I got it, I thought you'd notice.”

“I just thought you used the same brand. Shame on you, thief.”

You would laugh together for the rest of the night, reminiscing about the past, how you both hid your painfully obvious liking for each other, and then a moment of silence. 

You admired the array of stars that shined throughout the body of the sky as you laid your head on his shoulder, his hand holding yours like it was its only purpose. 

“Thank God Yuri plagiarized your essay.”

You playfully hit his knee, laughing out, “What do you mean?”

“Just imagine, If I never realized my feelings for you, I'd never make an effort to ask you as my project partner, and we'd stay the same, me still a jerk, and you…”

“Still saying yes to everyone? Well, that makes sense, but, what if we're really meant to end up where we are now?”

“We are meant to be, aren't we?” You felt him place a kiss on your head. “So, what's your opinion on officially being my girlfriend?”

You sat up, startling him a bit, but he'd chuckle once he saw the cheeky grin on your face. “You know how you've always taught me how to say no?”

You giggled when you saw his smile diminish. 

“Well, you're no idiotic low-life, so yes, Eunseok, I'll be your girlfriend.” he leans in and hugs you, and you both fall over. “Wait what the fuck.”

“Sorry, sorry.” he helped you get up.

You would get lost in each other's eyes again, and eventually your lips were linked once more. You had your arms wrapped around his neck, and his hands on your waist. You pulled away, and you'd laugh at each other's breathless states.

“I honestly don't know why you still asked me to be your girlfriend when I asked you to be my partner for life.”

“I'm an anxious man, okay? but I just really wanted to be sure, and I wanted to ask for myself, that was the initial plan anyways, I can't believe you ruined my plan.”

“Excuse me? you seem to sound so offended now.”

“So what if I am?”

The stars were once only a tiny glimpse of hope for him, now drew the two of you. First two very distant stars, one shone blue and the other shone red, the blue star almost died, but the red star gave some of her flame, and soon they would ignite the fire they would share. 

She said yes, finally. —he knew you'd ignite his flame again, and with an unspoken promise to himself —and to you, he'd grow to love you more and more, every single day.

Fin.

would you like to go back?

> take me back

> no :)) (thank you for stargazing with me)

[drewharrisonwriter]

Hi so i'm very curious how do you think hank's family took the news of them finally getting together as a couple??

Ohhhh this is a good one!!!

Consider this a drabble for Donor. This scenario most certainly happened after the spicy events of Part 3. LOL

Henry's family greeted the news of your relationship with a chorus of laughter and cheers, his brothers joining in with their trademark lively banter. 

"Finally!" they exclaimed in unison, raising their glasses in mock celebration during a raucous moment at their father's birthday party a couple of months later.

Charlie leaned over to his older sibling, a shit-eating grin on his face. "Mate, we were beginning to wonder if you'd ever come to your senses."

Henry rolled his eyes with an exaggerated sigh, his lips curving into a playful smile. "Oh please, like any of you have room to talk. Charlie, you once dated a professional cheese taster!"

Charlie chuckled, not denying the accusation. "Hey, you can't put a price on good taste."

"And I suppose a knack for cheese critiques runs in the family, huh?" you chimed in, your tone playfully teasing.

Laughter erupted around the table, and Henry's other brothers, Piers, Niki, and Simon, joined in. "Well, if that's the case, I guess I should consider myself lucky that my last girlfriend was a pastry chef!" Simon quipped.

Henry shook his head in mock exasperation, his laughter blending with the others. "You lot are ridiculous. But yes, it took us a while to figure things out."

His mother, having overheard the exchange, leaned in with a knowing smile. "Oh, Hank, don't act like you weren't always smitten with Y/N. We could all see it."

Henry's cheeks flushed slightly, and he shot you an affectionate look. "Well, I can't argue with that."

"You two do look quite cozy together," his father added with a wink. "And if my old eyes aren't failing me, I'd say there's something more than friendship there."

Piers, the eldest of the bunch, raised his glass. "To Hank and Y/N – the slowest burn in history!"

“Twenty-fucking years in the making!” Niki added.

Laughter and clinking glasses filled the air, and you shared a glance with Henry, your heart warmed by the camaraderie of his family. It was clear that their easy banter and teasing were all signs of their genuine happiness for the two of you.

Hope you liked it!!!

If you want me to write more drabbles about Hank and Darling bestie, let me know! 😉

Part 1 | Part 1.5 | Part 2 | Part 3

[sidekick-hero]

Run Boy Run

It’s the summer of ‘86 and Steve should enjoy it like everybody else in Hawkins. They defeated Vecna, the Upside Down is closed for good (or so El says) and everyone he cares about is still alive, if a little bit worse for wear in the case of Max and Eddie. Steve should be fine, should feel safe, should act normal. But he isn't, he doesn't, he can't.

He has nightmares, every night, and sleeps four hours tops. They seep into his days, too, make his own mind a terrifying place. One day, when he's alone in that big, empty house of his, it becomes too much. He snaps. Barely manages to put on a pair of shoes before he's out the door, feet pounding on the asphalt, drowning out the loud screaming in his head.

It helps. He comes back an hour later, sweat-drenched and exhausted, and falls asleep on the couch before he can even get into the shower. Sleeps for seven hours straight, a record.

After that, he goes on runs more and more often. Buys actual running shoes when his Nikes won't do anymore. He's able to sleep after those runs, is able to let go some of the anxiety that's clawing at his insides. It quiets his mind and that's all Steve can wish for these days.

The first time he ends up at the trailer park is by accident. It's just close to the woods where he always ends up lately, tired of all the curious eyes on him when he runs through town. When he sees the familiar sight of it he slows down, contemplates just running past it, but his legs ache and his mouth is as dry as the dessert. Maybe Max is at home.

It's Eddie he finds instead, out on the trailer steps, smoking. Steve jogs over to him, a genuine smile at the sight of him. When Eddie looks up and sees him, his cigarette drops from his mouth.

"What a sight for sore eyes, Harrington. Want to relive the old jock days?" He asks with a playful glint in his eyes.

Steve shakes his sweaty hair like a dog at Eddie in retaliation. "Shut up, Munson. Running is a great way to exercise.”

“Pffft, the only reason to run is away from something.”

“If you say so. Hey, could I get water before running back? It’s hot today.”

Eddie looks him up and down, bare legs up to his upper thighs, his running shorts and the sweat drenched shirt clinging to his torso.

“Sure is, Big Boy. Gimme a sec, I’ll get you something.”

He comes back with a bottle of water and a towel. Steve takes the bottle and gulps half of it down as if he had never had anything better in his life. It certainly feels like it right now. Satisfied, he pours the remaining water over his head to cool the rest of him.

He uses the towel Eddie gave him to wipe his face, and as he lowers it, he finds Eddie staring at him with a dazed expression, mouth slightly open, eyes unblinking.

He throws the wet towel in Eddie's face and cackles at the indignant stutter.

"You asshole! See if I ever help you in your time of need."

Steve just smirks at him over his shoulder, ready to start the long run back. "You looked like you were in need too, Munson. To wipe up the drool.”

Before Eddie can say anything in return, Steve is off at a brisk pace, feeling smug and invigorated.

Despite Eddie's threat, he gets Steve some water and a towel the next time he stops. And the next. And the one after that. It becomes a routine, the trailer park becoming his regular pit stop, his safe haven to refuel. Eddie is always waiting for him with water and a towel, sometimes a granola bar, and always a blinding smile and a flirty one-liner.

"Just looking at you, Harrington, makes me sweat."

"Maybe you should lose some layers, Munson. How've you not had heatstroke?"

"If you want to see me shirtless, all you have to do is ask, sweetheart."

The nightmares and anxiety attacks don't magically go away just because Steve starts running, but he is getting better at dealing with them. They become more manageable, less frightening.

Things are finally looking up, which is why he's unprepared for a particularly bad nightmare on an ordinary Monday night. He falls asleep on the couch, watching a few reruns, and wakes up to the sound of his own screams, images of snapping bones and oceans of blood flooding into his mind.

He's on the verge of a panic attack, feeling his windpipe tighten and his lungs burn. So he does the only thing he can think of — he runs. He doesn't even change into his running clothes, just puts on his shoes and sprints out of the door.

It's not like his usual runs, because this time he just doesn't stop. He runs until there is nothing left in him but the pounding of his feet on the ground, the aching legs, and the dizziness that comes from exhaustion.

In the end, though, his feet carry him to the only safe place he knows, just as the sun begins to set.

The scene is reminiscent of their first meeting here, Eddie on the steps of his trailer having a smoke, and the sight at last calms something in Steve, gives his mind something else to concentrate on, something other than death and blood and sorrow.

Eddie looks up at the sound of approaching footsteps and is on his feet in seconds, stumbling toward him before he's even fully upright.

"Jesus Christ Harrington, you look like you could keel over any second." Which is exactly what Steve does, his legs giving way and his body being caught by Eddie's arms around him before he hits the ground.

"Steve, hey, man, what the fuck? What happened?" They're both on the ground. Steve's in Eddie's arms, his legs folded under him. His legs hurt, but the pain is a distant sensation, like it's not his own. He’s cold, skin clammy and he feels nauseous. Eddie looks at him with big, worried eyes and Steve tries to stand up again, to show Eddie that he's okay.

He manages, but only because Eddie is shouldering most of his weight.

"Nightmare. It was bad. Real bad. So I just... Started running. I don't know how long? Just couldn't stop. Not until I saw you."

"Okay," is all Eddie says before he leads Steve into the trailer, almost carrying him as if Steve weighs nothing. Eddie is stronger than he looks, and the thought nestles deep in his mind, ready to be examined later.

Inside, Eddie sets him down on the couch. "Stay here, I'll get you something to drink."

He returns with water and dextrose, hands both to Steve and tells him to take slow, small sips or he'll get sick. At Steve's questioning look at the dextrose, Eddie shrugs and mumbles something about stocking up for his weird jock friend.

"How do your legs feel?" Eddie sits down on the couch next to him and Steve sips his water, already feeling a little better. When he touches his leg it hurts like hell, the muscles are too tense under his sweatpants.

He looks up at Eddie and says, "Sore. And stiff, like moving it will make it worse."

And then he does just that, lifting his bent leg and screaming in pain as his thigh immediately begins to cramp. He tenses up all over, tries to stand up, knows that moving the muscle helps with leg cramps, but apparently not this time. This time the other leg cramps as well.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck! It hurts." He falls back on the couch and presses both hands to his legs, trying to knead away the contracting knots in his thigh muscles, but to no avail.

Then Eddie is there, pushing him backwards and down on the couch, taking Steve's legs in his lap, pulling down Steve's sweat soaked sweatpants to get a better grip and starting to massage the leg closest to him. Steve reaches for the left one and presses down on it again, can't really get a good grip on it, but the pressure is enough to get the muscles to relax a bit.

Eddie's hands are sure, precise. He expertly massages along the cords of the muscles, starting with firm strokes to warm them up and get the blood flowing again. Next, he begins to knead the muscles, first lengthwise, then across. Steve feels the tension seep out of them, the muscles loosen and the pain subsides. The feeling is heavenly and he composes odes to Eddie's hands in his head.

Satisfied with how Steve's thigh muscles have softened in his capable hands, Eddie moves to the left, giving it the same treatment. Steve leans back on the couch, exhausted from the pain, from his run, from the nightmare that brought him here in the first place. He's tired, so tired. The repetitive movement of Eddie's hands on his legs soothes his mind like the equivalent of white noise.

"Where did you learn to do this?" His tongue feels heavy in his mouth and his eyelids keep dropping, but he has to know. Eddie keeps surprising him and Steve can't get enough.

Eddie's hands pause on his sweaty skin and Steve wonders if he said something wrong, wants them to go on, is already addicted to the way they feel on his body.

They continue when Eddie answers his question, his voice soft, careful. "There's this book I found in the library. And it talked about cramps and what to do about muscle strain and overexertion. Just. I remembered what it said when I saw you."

Steve blinks at him, once, twice, before asking, "A book? What book? Why would you read about muscle strai - Oh." Eddie ducks his head, hiding behind strands of his curly hair. "You read a book about running for me." It's not even a question.

Eddie doesn't say anything, which says more than enough, and continues to massage Steve's thighs before moving down to Steve's calves. He kneads the muscles there with the same devotion and Steve melts into the cushions beneath him. Now that the pain is gone, he can enjoy the feeling of firm hands lathering his body with attention.

As Eddie's hands move back up his legs, it feels less like a massage and more like a massage. The touch feels less functional, more sensual, purposeful in a different, exciting way. He feels blood rushing not only to his relaxing muscles, but to other places as well. Steve can't bring himself to care, even though he knows his arousal will soon be visible in his boxers. They've been dancing around each other for months, their flirting all bark and no bite.

He hopes that changes now.

Eddie's hands reach his thighs again, and Steve knows the moment when Eddie sees that Steve's half-hard by his hitching breath and clenching hands. He looks up at Steve's face and his eyes are wide, pupils already dilated, giving him a wild look. A hungry look.

"Steve?" Almost a whisper.

Steve has been running away from his nightmares, his fears, for weeks, but maybe, just maybe, he has also been running towards something.

Toward this.

“You read a book about running for me.”

“I did.”

“You wait for me, every day, to stop by. You take care of me.”

“I do.”

Steve has been running towards them.

“You want to touch me.” They both know he doesn’t mean a massage.

“I do. So bad, Steve. Want to touch you so bad.”

He's been running toward Eddie all along.

“I want you to. Please, Eddie. Touch me.”

It’s all the invitation Eddie needs. He yanks down Steve’s boxers and Steve holds his breath, waits for Eddie’s hand on him.

He gets Eddie’s mouth instead and can’t help the “Fuck,” he almost screams at the sensation of wet heat around the sensitive head of his cock.

His legs are still in Eddie’s lap and the angle is kind of awkward, must be hell on Eddie’s back, but the guy is not only surprisingly strong, but also flexible. He bends over Steve’s legs, his hands on Steve’s hips to hold him still as he swallows down Steve’s dick like it’s his favorite meal.

Steve’s hands find their way into Eddie’s wild mane, burying themselves in the silky strands. There is not much he can do but hold on for the ride.

It’s messy, it’s desperate and downright filthy how Eddie chokes himself on Steve’s dick, swallowing him down until he can bury his nose in the coarse hair at the base of Steve’s considerable length. Steve feels Eddie’s throat constrict around it, feels him gag as it hits his palate, but Eddie doesn’t stop, just encourages Steve with wet, pleading eyes and his hand gripping Steve’s where it’s buried in Eddie’s hair to fuck his mouth.

Steve moans at that, mind blown by the sheer hotness that is Eddie Munson. “You sure?” he still has to ask, has to make sure, holds himself back until he sees Eddie nod, feels him tap Steve’s hip once, twice, three times and knows that’s how Eddie will tell him to stop if it gets too much.

Another broken moan rips from Steve’s throat as he starts to slide his dick in and out of Eddie’s throat. He starts of slow, tries to savor the feeling even if his leg protest under the strain. Eddie moans around him, the vibration doing nothing for his already thin self-restraint, hips speeding up without Steve wanting them to. It’s just. It’s too much, too good, Steve too keyed up already.

“God, Eddie, shit. So good. So hot. I’m close, so close, please, can I come in your mouth, please,” he babbles, brain-to-mouth filter fried by the hottest blowjob he’s ever gotten. Eddie hums at his request, thumb stroking over his hipbone and eyes locking with Steve’s in a silent plea to do just that.

It only takes four more thrusts for Steve to lose it, to bury himself deep inside of Eddie’s throat while he comes harder than he can remember. It seems to go on forever, the cum dripping out of Eddie’s mouth and into Steve’s lap despite Eddie’s best efforts to swallow it all. When it gets to be too much, the pleasure turning into pain at the overstimulation, he cups Eddie’s cheek, presses his thumb to the corner of Eddie’s mouth where it’s stretched wide by Steve’s dick.

Eddie gets the hint and lets Steve slide out of his mouth, licks his lips, tongue catching on a stray drop in the corner of his mouth and it’s so hot Steve wishes he could get hard again this soon.

“Fuck, that was hot, Harrington.” Eddie’s voice is raspy, fucked out and Steve loves the sound of it.

“You just had my dick in your mouth. Call me Steve, okay?”

Eddie grins. “Fuck, that was hot, Steve,” he says and captures Steve’s lips in a searing kiss.

As Steve slides his tongue into Eddie’s mouth and tastes himself, he thinks that they could add this to their routine. He would like that very much.

_________________

A little self-indulgence from a passionate runner who just wants to see Steve in his tiny shorts again (I miss you S2!Steve).

As usual, thank you so so much to @legitcookie and @yournowheregirl for your unending support, great cheerleading and pep-talking as well endless supply of ideas. This would still be just a thought in my head without you 🫶

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