#I genuinely am in shock each and every time like it’s the first

[arcxnumvitae]

Every time I make a post about my fae being dramatic or them being weird, please know that I’m doing so because I’m also in stupefied awe at it.

[bumblesimagines]

Curiosities

Part 2

Request: Yes or No

Summary: King Aegon keeps his word and uses his power as the king to get what he desires. His decision flips (Y/N)'s world on its axis.

Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader

TW/CW: Typical GoT/HOTD warnings, mild slutshaming, implied homophobia (the Faith), mentions of child exploitation/abuse, mentions/implications of sexual and physical abuse toward sex workers, mentions of child/teen-adult relationships, takes place in S2 and while it doesn't follow the latest episodes as of currently beware of spoilers

These warnings keep getting longer and longer 😮‍💨

Divider from @targaryen-dynasty!

~~~

The members of the Small Council rose to their feet when Aegon strode into the room; uneasy glances and frowns being exchanged when they took in the skip in his step and the wide smile dangling from his lips. He had something in mind, something that most certainly wouldn't do them any good if it came from Aegon Targaryen of all people. 

"Good morrow," Aegon greeted them, setting his hands over the armrests of his chair and settling down comfortably at the end of the table. The council members tentatively sat down, dipping their heads in greeting and exchanging more glances. He raised his hand when Lord Jasper went to speak, effectively silencing the man. "Before we begin, I'd like to bring up the subject of taking an official paramour. These last few days have been... hard, to say the least, but I believe my pain has been soothed."

"Your Grace," Alicent began, her eyes fluttering shut in exasperation and chest falling with a heavy sigh. "I believe it's far too soon to be taking a mistress, much less the proper time with war brewing on the horizon. You are without an heir for the moment, so I understand the desire to-" 

"This is hardly about heirs or children, Mother." Aegon cut in swiftly, his back pressing against the chair and jaw ticking with a smidge of annoyance. "I want this. I will have this, one way or another. I am merely... informing you all." 

Clearing his throat, Maester Orwyle regarded his king with a small smile. "Perhaps knowing the name of your lover will soothe worries, Your Grace. Does she reside in the Red Keep? What house is she from? We certainly wouldn't want to bring any offense to her family during this time. Many fathers are oft' protective of their daughters and would find it insulting for one to become a mere mistress." 

"You're in luck then," Aegon grinned widely, his thumb rubbing against one of the many rings adorning his fingers. He took in the perplexed and curious looks on each of their faces, savoring their undivided attention. He swiped his tongue over his lips and reached forward toward his goblet, tilting it toward the cupbearer and listening to the heavenly sound of wine being poured. "For my lover and future paramour does not come from any noble family." He couldn't help but giggle, taking a sip from his wine. "He comes from the Street of Silk." 

Silence followed his revelation, each of the council members staring at him in complete and utter shock. His mother moved first, her folded hands unlacing so she could rub the bridge of her nose. Her eyes squeezed shut, lips rolling into her mouth to prevent any unsavory words from spilling out. Lord Jasper reached for his goblet next, drinking every last drink in it and motioning for some more while Maester Orwyle and Lord Tyland blinked at him in astonishment. 

"Y-Your Grace," Maester Orwyle stuttered, "The Faith of the Seven views the act of-"

"The Faith views incest, bastardy, and prostitution sins as well, Grand Maester. Yet many of the men sitting at this very table are guilty of at least one of these things. Besides, I am of Targaryen blood and I am the King of Westeros, am I not? My grandsire King Jaehaerys put a law in place exempting those with Valryian blood from being judged, did he not?"

Aegon's smile shifted from genuine into a more daring one, his eyes burning into those of Maester Orwyle and any other council members who felt bold enough to look in his direction. "My word is law."

Alicent's eyes fluttered open and she leaned back in her chair, casting a glance at the rest of the council members. "Think of what you are asking-"

"I've made my decision, Mother." Aegon interrupted once more, smirking at the way she clenched her jaw, and turned his head to study his newest Hand, Ser Criston. The knight straightened up, ever so loyal, and Aegon smiled brightly. Finally, someone who wouldn't object. "I have some orders for you, Ser Criston."

Digging his teeth into the warm loaf of bread he'd been given, (Y/N) walked along the gravelly, muddy road in the direction of the Street of Silk. His breakfast had been a gift from a patron who frequented the brothel, one of the few good things of working where he did. Lavish gifts were expected from nobles who could afford whatever they desired, though they more often than not merely dressed their favorite workers up like little dolls.

The smallfolk could hardly compare but they provided the more necessary gifts; food, drinks, materials. It hardly had anything to do with genuine love or care, and more so the simple desire of holding the gift over his head, but (Y/N) would never be in a position to ignore free food.

Madam Sylvi had long stopped providing him with anything other than a place to bathe and sleep, claiming he was no longer a babe and had to provide for himself just as the rest of the smallfolk. She was a good madam, better than most brothel owners, and she tried to take care of all the women and men she took under her wing, but she couldn't be everywhere at once; and she couldn't kick out every patron that grew bolder or more sadistic. 

His eyes dragged away from the light gray clouds rolling overhead as he stepped into the Street of Silk, the sound of pleasure and music filling his ears from brothels accepting patrons. Eager men bustled up and down the street, jeering at those lingering by their respective brothels in hopes of enticing one to come inside. But still, things seemed more oddly quiet than usual, (Y/N) noted, and he soon realized why when he noticed the elegant carriage waiting outside of Madam Sylvi's brothel. 

Ripping the bread in his hand apart, he tossed one piece toward the child sitting in an alleyway, his ribs visibly showing throw his thin layer of dirty, ripped clothes. The child sprang to his feet and dug eagerly into the bread, his eyes lighting up with newfound life.

As (Y/N) shoved the rest of his bread into his mouth and quickened his step, he hoped one act of kindness would spare him later. He swallowed down the food, throat itching for water, and stopped by the large double doors where a fellow brothel worker stood by.

His lips parted to question her on the carriage but he winced when he noticed the darkening bruise on her cheek, staring near the corner of her lip and ending near her eye. Hardly seemed like an accident. Alise brushed her fingers over the purple skin, her dark eyes slightly watering and her nose scrunching up in pain.

"Was it Felir again?" He asked instead with a gentle sigh, taking a step toward her and sweeping back some of her blonde hair. 

"Always is." She responded with a sigh of her own, dropping her hand down toward her chest where her dress plunged enough to show most of her cleavage, finger hooking to drag it down even further. "He pays too well to be thrown out, though. I hear he's grown tired of his new wife now that she's grown heavy with child. I'm certain we'll be seeing him around more often when the babe comes."

"I'm sorry."

"You mustn't be." Alise dismissed with a wave of her hand. "Be thankful he has no interest in boys, otherwise he'd do a whole lot more than what the Targaryen's done to your neck." She reached out to push back the hood of his cloak and dragged her fingertips over the markings on his throat, an amused grin forming on her face until she winced and touched her cheek again. 

"You should rest." (Y/N) told her, giving her arm a delicate squeeze before he pushed open one of the large wooden doors leading into the brothel. The air still reeked of smoke, sweat, and drinks despite the open window but most of the brothel had been cleaned up and ready for another round of patrons. He and the others would be given a chance to rest and eat, although when he spotted the two men in their shining silver armor and long white cloaks, he suspected his day wouldn't be the same as the rest.

The Sworn Brotherhood - better known as Kingsguards - were sworn to never own land, take a wife, or father children so they could fully focus on their duty of protecting the king and the royal family. Of course, they were still men, and despite the sworn promise to remain as pure as fresh snow, most of them were regulars at brothels; but they never sought workers out in their uniforms, much less in broad daylight. It'd be asking for swift punishment.

"Here he is, the man you seek." Madam Sylvi announced with a smile full of feigned joy that only made his stomach drop. She rose from her chair swiftly, the long skirt of her dress swishing with her movements, and she hurried over to him, her arms sliding around his shoulders and head dropping to whisper in his ear. "The King has asked for you, sweet boy. I do not know why but you must mind your step and tread lightly." Her nails dug through the fabric covering his arms. 

Aegon.

"The King has ordered your swift removal from this.. establishment so that you may settle into your new apartments in Maegor's Holdfast as his new paramour. He asks that you only take belongings of sentimental value so we may escort you to your new home as quickly as possible. He's asked of us to assure you no harm or insult will come to you for as long as he reigns." One Kingsguard spoke, his voice largely devoid of emotion and stance rigid with alert, but he shifted his weight from foot to foot. He seemed nervous, perhaps flustered. At least he attempted to appear like a Kingsguard whereas his companion blatantly ogled one of the girls until subtly elbowed.

(Y/N) looked between the two men, his fingers curling around the skirt of Madam Sylvi's dress. It'd been years since he'd last clutched to her like a child, but he felt tremendously small under the unnerving stares from the two knights. "Sylvi," He exhaled, tearing his eyes away from the knights to look at her soft features. 

"Perhaps it will be temporary, until the anxieties and worries of war pass." She soothed softly but the subtle tremble of her voice gave away her real thoughts. Paramours could be replaced, they often were, but hardly any noble - much less a king - had ever so publicly announced their new lover. "Go collect your things, (Y/N). We mustn't make King Aegon wait." 

Madam Sylvi ushered him up the stairs toward the rooms on the second floor where workers without homes to return to slept. His legs moved automatically toward his room at the end of the hall, or rather... his old room.

The idea hadn't settled in fully, not yet. He'd called the brothel home for far too many years. He'd been born in one of the many rooms he walked past; he'd raced up and down the halls whilst playing games; he'd been bathed and clothed and doted on by many in the very place he now had to leave. 

"(Y/N)!" A squeaky voice called out, soft footsteps thumping after him. (Y/N) stopped by the door into his old room, hand hovering over the doorknob and head tilting to peer down at the girl rushing toward him. Lyla collided with his leg, her arms wrapping around it and her chin resting over his hip as she looked up at him with glittering blue eyes. "Are you leaving?" 

"Afraid so, Ly." (Y/N) answered, opening the door and stepping inside the familiar room. The girl of only thirteen followed him inside, her lips forming a pout. He still remembered when her first flowering had occurred, a sign she'd become a lady. Her maidenhood had been up for auction the following month and a stout fisherman had managed to be the highest bidder. (Y/N) had been the one to clean the blood from her legs and ensure she drank moon tea. 

With a heavy exhale, (Y/N) looked over his rather plain room. He'd never given it any thought to decorate it with things from around King's Landing, for many of his fellow workers had sticky fingers and an eye for beautiful things. His bed was big enough to fit his body and his blanket thick enough to keep him warm throughout winter. There were a few potted plants around the room, something he added for some color and life. Otherwise, everything would merely be wood-toned.

"Will you visit?" Lyla asked, seating herself in the middle of his bed and tugging at the ends of her dress as she crossed her legs. Her eyes followed him as he sorted through his clothes and belongings in search of anything he'd miss, only to conclude the single item he considered valuable was the bracelet wrapped around his wrist; a simple gift from Madam Sylvi but one he held dearly. 

"I... am not sure, Ly. I will try to, if... if they allow me." (Y/N) responded, kneeling down by his bed and blindly searching until his hand bumped into the small wooden box he kept. He slipped his fingers around it and rose back up to take a seat beside the young girl, lifting the lid to reveal the glittering jewelry hidden within. Lyla gasped softly and shuffled closer. 

"They're pretty!" 

"Gifts from countless men and women, noble and smallfolk alike. I have collected and hidden them throughout the years for they are of little use to me. But, now that I am leaving... I believe you should have them. Take a few for yourself, Ly, but hide them where no other will find them. You must tell Madam Sylvi that you wish to exchange the rest for coin. It should be enough for your aunt to pay her debts and you'll never have to come here for work again." (Y/N) instructed her, digging through the jewelry until he found a thin silver necklace and clipped it around her neck.

"Truly?" Lyla asked quietly, her eyes shimmering with tears. Her fingers glided along the necklace until they curled around it, squeezing it tight in her smaller hand. 

"Truly." (Y/N) nodded, setting the box on her lap and planting a kiss on her temple. His fingers brushed back some of her black curls, a bittersweet feeling bubbling in his chest at the tears that spilled down her round cheeks. An orphaned child so desperate to remain with the last of her family that she'd shown up on their doorstep asking for a job, first as a mere servant and then into something more horrid. 

With Lyla's future looking brighter than his, he stood from his bed and took one last look at his room before venturing out into the hall and down to the first floor. The knights awaited him by the doors, the younger one of the two once again distracted by those coming and going. The one who'd addressed him straightened up at the sight of him, his gaze dropping down to (Y/N)'s empty hands and the lack of luggage. 

"I have... little of value."

"Very well." The knight cleared his throat. "We must depart for the Red Keep, then."

(Y/N) had never been in a carriage before, and he had to admit it was an odd feeling. Many of the roads leading back toward the Red Keep were bumpy and far from easy to travel. He found himself holding onto the cushioned seat beneath him as his body lurched and swayed with the bumps and light shaking of the carriage, his fingers digging into the soft fabric in a vain attempt at stabilizing himself. How lords and ladies could withstand such dizzying rides was beyond him. 

When the carriage finally rolled to a smooth stop and the door on the side opened, the extent of the situation finally dawned on him. He'd never been to the Red Keep; Seven Hells, the only time he'd even stepped on the road leading up to the castle had been on his way to Fishmonger's Square.

But there he sat, in the main outer yard with the loud groaning of the main gate sliding closed behind him. He forced himself to step out of the carriage and out into the yard, the sight of servants, knights, and courtiers greeting him. 

"This way, my..." The knight trailed off and exchanged a wide-eyed look with his companion. (Y/N) was no courtier, no page or ward, no lordling with lands and titles. He was merely... a prostitute; a whore as patrons loved to call him and his friends. Everyone around them seemingly came to the same conclusion, their stares becoming scrutinizing or pitiful. 

"(Y/N)," He said quietly, tugging his cloak further over his shoulders, suddenly feeling extremely aware of how plain his clothes seemed in comparison to the courtiers lingering around. He prayed the hood covered his neck from prying eyes. "Call me (Y/N), Ser." 

The knight nodded, his helmet slipping further down his head with his movements. It seemed the new Lord Commander of the Kingsguard had chosen... a questionable lot for the job. (Y/N) dug his teeth into the tip of his tongue and lowered his head, an action that'd become second nature to him whenever he left the brothel, for drawing attention to yourself in the city was asking to be robbed or killed. It hardly helped him inside the castle, however. Those they walked by stared and whispered amongst themselves, blatantly motioning in his direction while doing so.

(Y/N) saw the look in their eyes, the way they turned their noses up and scoffed as if his mere presence brought a stain to the castle. Nobles believed themselves to be better than those who worked to provide everything they required, and it was that sense of ego that often made them the best customers; for a simple stroke of their ego had them spilling more coin than they could count. Most of them were fools, even with the high education they received, (Y/N) knew this well. Appearing timid and meek did people little favors in Flea Bottom, even less so among the nobility. 

Madam Sylvi had been right. He had to tread lightly. 

After a long walk through many hallways and staircases, the knights finally stopped before two large oak doors and simultaneously pushed them open to reveal the bedchambers within. "Your apartments... (Y/N)." One spoke rather awkwardly, vaguely motioning with his hand for him to enter. (Y/N) stepped into the room and stopped, blinking at the size alone. 

His... 'apartments' were even larger than the brothel if the two floors combined into one. On the far right end elevated by a small platform sat a luxurious-looking bed large enough to fit at the very least five people with a wooden canopy holding sheer curtains at the sides. Near the bed sat a desk with blank papers and a quill ready to be used alongside beautifully carved wooden chests for storage whilst on the opposite side stood a large closet.

In the center of the room, a beautiful rug with flower designs covered most of the floor, long couches and comfortably looking seats atop with a dining table set nearby. Lined along the walls were numerous paintings and shelves, some filled with books and others empty.

His eyes were immediately drawn to the large open window at the left side of the room that overlooked part of the city and ocean, a gentle breeze flowing in from it. Near the window sat a bronze tub on one side and a few more chairs by a fireplace on the other. Extremely extravagant, he had to admit, but far too much for a single person. His old room seemed pebble-sized in comparison. 

"I am Ser Corlin and I will be stationed outside at all times if you ever require my presence or assistance. I will follow you wherever you must go and am sworn to give my life for you if needed as King Aegon has assigned me as your Sworn Shield." (Y/N)'s brows furrowed and he whirled around to face the more talkative of the two knights, his eyes flickering to the other one when he dipped his head and left. Ser Corlin seemed a well enough protector, if not a little young. 

"Why would I need a... 'Sword Shield'?" He hardly knew what that meant, but based on Ser Corlin's words it appeared to be quite the important job. "I am merely... I am hardly important enough to need protection, Ser." 

"You are King Aegon's paramour; the only one of many to be given such attention. We cannot know for sure if any envious past lovers may wish ill upon you or if Rhaenyra the Cruel will attempt to harm you to cause our king further strife." Ser Corlin explained, shuffling aside to allow a few maids into the room. He dipped his head, providing no further information, and shut the door behind him. 

"How wonderful." (Y/N) exhaled, hands undoing the laces of his cloak and carefully tugging it off his shoulders. One maid sprang into action, collecting the cloak from his arms and looking over the muddied ends with a thoughtful look. He blinked at her, watching her dip her head similarly to Ser Corlin and slip out of the room. Were they... bowing? To him? 

"I'm Laerra," The eldest looking between the maids spoke before motioning to the other three with her. "These are Eliza, Shana, and Marya. We will be primarily tending to your needs: bathing, changing, cleaning, and fulfilling any requests you ask of us. His Grace wished for you to be changed into some of the clothing stored in the closet, if we may?" 

"I... am not a child. I can change myself." 

"It would be better if we did it for you, My Lord." The round-faced redhead, Eliza, spoke next, a hint of meekness in her voice. The usage of a title made him grimace but if it made things easier on the servants, he'd deal with it, he supposed.

Pursing his lips, (Y/N) sighed and nodded, finding no use in arguing with the customs of nobility. The maids moved swiftly; one of them filled a basin with water and warmed it by the fireplace, another fetched the clothes, and the remaining two began removing his clothes.

They worked diligently and quickly, a focused look passing over each of their faces. Shana scrubbed and dried his skin with a rag she dipped into the basin, getting his skin rid of any sweat and dirt it accumulated during his trip in the city, giving herself a nod of approval when she finished. Eliza scooped his old clothes into her arms and disappeared from his room as Marya and Laerra began dressing him in soft fabrics. 

"Imported fabrics and cloths from Dorne and some of the Free Cities, My Lord," Marya revealed when he eyed the white undershirt, the soft fabric rubbing nicely against his skin as they put him in a dark green overshirt. When they slipped gem-adorned rings on his fingers, she added, "Gemstones from Pentos. The King wished for nothing else than beautiful." 

"Thank you." He told them, feeling pampered yet suffocated. "I-... You.. may go. I'd like time alone, if I may." 

"Shall we bring you some wine? Perhaps some lemon cakes, as well?" Laerra questioned but when he waved them off, they all dipped into a curtsy and ushered themselves out of the room, plunging it into heavy silence that loomed over him like a storm cloud. It was too much, all of it. The room, the clothes, the accessories. He'd had a perfectly fine life in the Street of Silk, despite everything he witnessed and experienced. 

(Y/N) tugged the rings from his fingers, scattering them across the dining table, and undid the buttons of his overshirt to pull it off and drape it over a chair. He had little need for such things, for so many layers. He collapsed on one of the chairs and braced his arms over the table, his eyes drifting over to the window. His ears strained to catch the bustle of the city but the wind was all he heard, amongst muffled chatter and footsteps from the hallway outside. 

"Gods," He sighed and ran a hand over his face, slumping back in the chair. "What have I gotten myself into?" 

(Y/N) hardly had any time to process before the doors swung open and Ser Corlin's voice echoed into the room, "Dowager Queen Alicent Hightower." His lips pressed together tightly, teeth digging into his inner bottom lip and a heavy exhale escaping through his nose. The Gods lacked mercy for him, it seemed. 

"Your Grace," (Y/N) greeted, standing up from the chair and bending at the waist when he turned around to face her. Queen Alicent (was she to be referred to as Dowager Queen? There were far too many titles) strode into his room with an air of grace, her dark eyes sliding over to him while her features remained blank.

Queen Alicent was beautiful with long dark auburn hair that'd been tied back and cascaded along her back, big brown eyes that studied him closely, and a slender figure. She appeared youthful, and he had to remind himself she had most of her children before reaching the age of twenty. 

"You must be (Y/N)." She spoke softly, her voice soothing and gentle. "I apologize for the sudden intrusion... amongst other things. I am aware my son feels quite fondly of you despite your former job. I must admit I was quite caught off guard when he announced his decision to move you here, into the Red Keep rather than housing you elsewhere as most other nobles do with their... lovers. May I ask what your family believes of this? I cannot say they will be welcomed if they seek riches." 

"I was born in Madame Sylvi's brothel. I do not know my father as my mother likely took many lovers a week to know for certain." 

Queen Alicent's brows furrowed, her long fingers ghosting over the hand of her hand to begin toying with one of her rings. "Likely? You.. you do not know your mother? How is that so?"

"I was never told." (Y/N) shrugged. "As a babe, I was passed around to whomever had the milk to feed me. My mother never claimed me as her own, but I'm sure she tended to me at one point or another. The women there never cared to tell me who amongst them had birthed me. They were all my mothers, I suppose. I can assure you they'd only approach me for favors if the idea ever struck them." 

"Born in a brothel.." Queen Alicent murmured quietly, her skirt gliding along the floor as she drew closer to him, her hand coming to rest along the top of the chair at the end of the table. "Forgive me if it is a difficult question to answer, but may I know the age you were when you began... working?" 

"I was eight years of age when frequenters began asking, nine when I began working. It is tradition in most brothels to auction the first time to the highest bidder as most patrons enjoy laying with virgins. I hardly recall the night but I believe it was with a couple from Braavos." His hand moved to grasp the wrist where the bracelet remained, thumb pressing into it at the memory of Madam Sylvi gifting it to him the following day after the couple left. The Dowager Queen paled. "They paid well." He added, though it hardly sounded like much of a comfort.

"You were a child." She exhaled, breathless and her voice dripping with pity. The stone-faced look she'd carried when she first arrived had vanished, her glassy eyes reminding him of Aegon's. They looked so alike in certain lights, he noted, from the furrow of their brows to the curve of their lips. She appeared smaller, younger, without the emotionless facade she'd put up when first acknowledging him. 

"As were you when you wed King Viserys." (Y/N) spoke carefully, his words soft and knowing. She stared at him, the shine in her eyes growing and full lips parting with a shaky exhale. Queen Alicent's gaze fell onto the stone floor and the tip of her nails scraped against the wood of the chair she held onto, her chest rising and falling with a deep inhale. 

"It is the duty that falls on the shoulders of many young noble girls. It was expected of me, and I fulfilled my duty, as you well see." He heard the subtle tremble in her voice, saw the way the corner of her brows dipped with each word; was she convincing him or herself? (Y/N) could hardly tell, but what he did know was that with a simple few words the Queen's true nature had reared its head. She remained a young girl in her heart, despite the years of motherhood and marriage thrusted upon her. 

"Duty or not, it did not make you any less of a child, Your Grace." He moved slowly, somewhat cautiously, when he approached her, keeping his footsteps light and his posture relaxed.

(Y/N) studied her face, her reactions, and the way her body responded to his movements with keen, observant eyes. She watched him, her eyes darting down to his arms so he moved them behind his back to ease any worries of him lashing out toward her. He stopped a few feet away, keeping enough space between them for her to relax.

"Forgive me if I speak too plainly or boldly, Your Grace, for us smallfolk hardly ever converse with those above our stations. I assume you have your assumptions about me, about how I make my coin, but I do not just pleasure others."

She shifted her weight from one foot to the next, the way her eyes jumped around the room from item to item telling him she felt nervous, likely uncomfortable with the topic of sex. The necklace resting around her neck held a pendant similar to the seven-pointed star that represented the Seven. For a woman of faith and nobility speaking of sex with someone of the opposite sex whom she had no relation to would be considered scandalous. 

"I provide comfort, as well. A willing ear to those who desire to be heard without judgment. I hold many stories, secrets, desires, and hopes that have been told to me throughout many years that will never leave my lips. I value trust, and I would never break another's, even for coin. I had little friends in the city, I doubt I have any at all here," A flicker of recognition flashed in her eyes. "If you find yourself needing a friend, I'd be happy to listen over tea or sweets. I have a feeling I'll be finding myself... quite lonesome here." 

"I... I shall keep your offer in mind." Queen Alicent said gently, her fingers curling around her hand and lips forming a tight-lipped smile. She dropped her hands down to the sides of her skirt, slightly lifting the ends and departing toward the doors. She stopped before them and peered over her shoulder at him. "King Aegon has matters he is attending to but I'm certain he will welcome you once he is done. Welcome to the Red Keep, (Y/N)."

[redr0sewrites]

Can you write Vox x reader where like the reader just says like really unhinged things and just like vile things whenever they rage and stuff like the internet could be slow or smth and the reader is just like “IM GOING TO RIP OFF MY SKIN” idk man I’m kinda just self projecting rn like you can right anything with it tbh idk sorry for rambling anyway you don’t have to do this if you don’t wanna

THIS IS SO MEEEEE I LOVE THIS IDEA SM!!! sorry it took me a hot minute to reply to this i have over 70 hazbin hotel requests in my inbox 😭

🥀Cw: fluff, crack, silly vox

when he first met you, vox was charmed by your seemingly sweet nature- that is, until you were pissed

your unholy screech of how you were going to rip off your skin if he cut the wifi again was both endearing and confusing in his eyes

vox would just short circuit for a second, just blinking at you while he tries to process what you just said

once it clicks, he just starts giggling. vox very rarely genuinely laughs, most of his laughs are professional or part of the persona he adopts as the leader of vox enterprises, but when he's so shocked by what you just said, he can't control the booming laughter thay fills the room

he's wheezing and gasping, each barking laugh only pissing you off more

"what's so funny? if you keep laughing i am going to fucking break ur fingers like carrot sticks!" you snap, and vox only giggles harder

after a few seconds, you can't help but notice how adorable his laughter is, and soon you don't mind it as much

once you two are officially together, you notice how stressed vox often is, yet how he seems to visibly relax around you

the batshit crazy things you say, which normally disgusts other people, only seem to amuse him

its actually a wonderful dynamic because you bring some spontaneity and slight insanity into vox's otherwise irritating and depressing lifestyle, and vox balances out the crazy things you say and calms you down every time

you often find yourself searching for new phrases to baffle him with, and for new ways to make him laugh

after vox has a stressful day, he enjoys just listening to you ramble about the most insane things and adores hearing whatever fucked up saying you've adopted recently

vox notices himself beginning to copy your speech patterns. he only begins to realize when he slips in an exceptionally odd metaphor into a work meeting and everyone stares at him, yet his heart skips a beat at the thought

there's something so charming to him about the fact that he's adopting your mannerisms, and you truly make him laugh when no one else can

whenever another one of the vees pisses him off, he always comes to you for advice on incredibly deranged comebacks, and you never disappoint!

he's won multiple arguments by just repeating one of your fucked up sayings and the other vees being too lowkey shocked to disagree

vox LOVES IT when you diss people he hates, hearing you ramble some fucked up insults about alastor made him fall in love with you all over again

"that worm on a string fucked up karen cut bob looking ass- if i see him around here again im going to eat a fucking brick" *cue vox looking at you with the biggest heart eyes*

overall, you are both menaces, but you're menaces in love ♥️

vox lay with his head in your lap, the blue light of his screen illuminating the dim room as you rambled mindlessly about your day.

"and THEN, this fucking asshole tried to flirt with me! ME!! as if he doesn't know were dating! ugh, it makes me feel like i have an entire beehive living beneath my skin. i swear if he even looks at me again im going to lick wet cement i can NOT deal. how can you even work with him? he's such a fucking CREEP voxy, i'm going to cut off those ugly ass wings and shove them so far down his throat- hey, are you even listening?"

you look down to see vox half asleep, his eyelids drooping as his light dimmed. "keep talking.." he murmurs, looking up at you with a lazy smile on his face. "you're my favorite person t' listen to.."

i love the idea of vox with a partner who challenges his very idea of power. he clearly wraps himself in a sort of persona, surrounding himself with powerful people and acting like he's so serious and important. i love the idea of him falling in love with someone who can break down his walls in seconds, someone who can dismantle his entire bravado act and who allows him to truly be himself. this is such a wonderful prompt and i am eating this up. nonnie ur awesome!!!!

[cherryheairt]

O Hello, can you write about Gwayne? I really like the way you write.

EI was thinking something like enemies to lovers. Instead of Baela, she is the one who flies over the dragon. They met at the dinner Viserys prepared before he died in the first season.

At the end of the dance Gwayne is forced to bend the knee and accept Rhaenyra as queen. Her daughter doesn't miss the opportunity to make his life hell, until he corners her in a hallway and takes her like a dragon.

hello! I love this prompt, I miss gwayne already 💔

Beckae is the name I gave MC, just to add to the immersion of a Targ-Velyron lol, pronounced Becky still. No description for the reader (mother is Rhaenyra but father is anyone made up, lets say that the reader looks a spitting image of their father to keep it neutral. fem pronouns. I couldn't include the smut at the end, just a lil steam. I'm sorry 😞, I'm terrible at writing those scenes.

noticed that Gwayne's costume included a ring on a chain, a thing typically done by people who want to keep their wedding ring on them, but not lose them. It gave the the main idea for this lol

Dance of Green and Black

When Gwayne Hightower and Beckae Velayron were forced to wed by order of Rhaenyra Targaryen, both did not bother to hide their vexation. They were married mere days after Rhaenyra won the Iron Throne, her loyal men killing Aegon ii in his state of disarray from his burns.

Now, months later, they had left their marriage uncomsumated and drier than the sandy hills of Dorne. They refused to sleep in shared marital chambers at the Red Keep, having agreed on that one thing. Gwayne reluctantly took his father's place at court, staying among the very snakes that brought him here in the first place. He cursed himself for ever responding to Alicent's letter when Aegon first took the throne. If he hadn't, he'd be living his life peacefully alone at the Old Tower.

Now, his days were spent being tormented by the spoilt Princess. She attended each council meeting, laughing snidely at every suggestion Gwayne gave his Queen, and suggesting one of her own in turn. She got away with this every time, seeing as her grandmother was the Hand of the Queen, Rhaenys, and her mother was the Queen.

Gwayne sipped on his wine, which he had taken to indulging in every council, listening to the drowl words of the nobles around him. His wife shared his boredom, apparently, twirling her own glass in her hand. Beside him, she huffed every few minutes. He resisted the urge to ask her to excuse herself if she were so bored. Suddenly, a wet 'splash' fell to his lap, dampening his breeches.

"Oops..." Fluttered the Princess, who covered her mouth in surprise. "That was an accident, I assure you." Though Gwayne could care less if it was genuine or not, he was already scooting his chair out and storming out of the council room. Shocked faces around the table landed on Beckae, who at least had the gaul to look embarrassed. Rhaenyra raised a brow at her daughter, nodding her chin toward the door shortly.

The Princess swiftly followed after her husband, not truly caring for his embarrassment but moreso glad to be given an excuse for leaving the room. If she had known putting her mother on the Iron Throne would have been so dreadfully boring, she would've taken her dragon to Pentos and lived out her days as an old maid.

Gwayne reached his private chambers first, long legs able to carry him so much faster. He took off his trousers and small clothes, left with his bottom half bare to the world. Beckae followed after him, gasping and turning around at the sight before her. Shit, she thought. Perhaps she should've waited at his doors.

"Here to empty your goblet entirely? Go ahead, I'm used to it." He sneered, rolling his eyes at her sudden bashfulness. It would not be the first time she witnessed such a thing. For modesty's sake, he slipped on a fresh pair of linens.

"I am merely here to apologize, husband. Not patronize." She mumbled, face hot.

"Hm." He stepped forward, taking her chin in his hand and forcing her to look up at him. "Where was this attitude when you were chasing after me on your dragon? I think your true colors much suit you, wife."

She grit her teeth, annoyed at his haughty behavior. "It was war. If I hadn't been on my dragon and your party happened upon me, I'd have been killed by Criston Cole without remorse."

"I wouldn't have allowed that to happen." He insisted confidently.

She snorted, "when had that man ever listened to you? He hardly heeded the usurper's orders when he was alive."

"Do you think I would have let you die, especially such a dishonorable death?" Gwayne questioned, squeezing her cheeks harder.

She grimaced, "we were not wed, then. Barely acquainted, to add."

He looked disappointed at her snarky reply. "I may not hold much affection for you, wife, but I have always shown myself to be an honorable man, have I not?" When she didn't respond, he continued. "I would say we were not acquaintances, either. Were we acquainted when I bestowed upon your head the crown of The Queen of Love and Beauty at your nameday tourney?"

"That's different. You had to name me that. It is the expectation of a tourney winner to name the celebration's main subject with that title." She said.

"I could've named someone else, even so. Was our little tryst that night meaningless?"

"You cannot use that against me, Gwayne. It is shameful enough that I allowed myself to do such a dishonest thing." She grabbed his wrist lightly, urging it away from its grip. He listened, moving it to a more gentle caresse at the base of her neck, tangled in her hair.

"I do not regret it." He said, softly. "Nor do I regret the night we spent together after the dinner with our families."

"Gwayne," she pleaded, avoiding his intense gaze. While their marriage was yet to be officially consumated, she was far from a maiden. He was to thank for that, of course. How ironic that they ended up married only after they begun to resent each other.

Gwayne resented his entrapment here. She resented his family and his actions during the war.

"What, Princess? I only speak the truth and you know it. Do you regret it?"

She remained silent, hands placed on his chest as if to ground herself.

Gwayne took that as his answer. "We do not have to live this way. We could leave—return to my home in Old Town. You can have your privacy, do whatever you please whenever you'd like. I beg you, it is torturous here for me, and I know you share that sentiment. I will not ask for heirs, I have my brother for that. You can take a lover, a paramour of your choice." He promised her, grabbing her hands and bringing them together. On his knees, he looked the proper image of a knight, kneeling like such. To beg for his Lady to do him this one favor, to release him from court.

"I do not want a lover." She said lowly. "I want for you."

His eyes widened, then his brows furrowed together in bemusement. "You have taken it upon yourself to belittle me publically every day, do you expect me to now believe that you do not resent me?" He scoffed bitterly.

The Princess looked away from him, unknowing of how to phrase her next words. "That is true, I will admit to my teasings–"

"I would hardly call them teasings." He cut in.

She glared at him, continuing. "–or torments, perhaps. No one truly enjoys court, it is both of us who are trapped her together. If I hadn't been forced to marry you, we would have both been free to live where we wished."

"Your mother is Queen, if you only ask she will provide."

"You overestimate my influence, Gwayne. She wants your advisory in council–for Gods know what–and she knows you being married to me keeps you loyal to her."

"Then I will stop being useful. I will be the worst advisor that council has ever seen." His face lit uo in a smirk, as if we were a profound genius.

"Do you not think she will see through this rouse."

"You will be my aid, dear Lady. You need only continue your extremely rude and annoying actions, only louder and more aggressive, so that they will have no choice but to kick you out from future meetings. In addition, my uselessness will send me with you out of the Keep to be rid of us both. If we hate each other in their eyes, they will not suspect that we are working together." He explains.

She carefully thinks it over. True, they would not want wither of them uselessly loitering around the Keep after they were kicked out of the council. She nodded firmly, agreeing to his plan. If all things went to shit and they were discovered to be playing a rouse, the only consequence would be a scolding. What was stopping them?

🏰

Gwayne and Beckae went through their little routine for weeks. The Princess rudely commenting on the entire council's opinions now, not just Gwayne's. Not rude enough to be kicked out immediately, but for irritated glares to be regularly shot at her. If looks could kill, Beckae would have been buried long ago. Gwayne, for his part, entirely stopped giving his opinions. If asked, he exaggeratedly thought for a long time before giving false information.

The weeks passed with many stressed advisors going through the boring meetings with many complaints to the Queen and her Hand. With Gwayne and his wife, however, they started to bond over their mischiefs. Late at night, after their duties were done, the two shared laughter and pleasent conversation over their cups.

When Rhaenyra pulled the married couple aside one morning, before the meeting started, Gwayne and Beckae felt giddy with anticipation.

"You two...I have been thinking for a while now. I think it is time you retired from court and traveled back to Old Town, to raise your children and take care of your House directly from it." The Queen avoided her true reasoning, skirting politely around the Hightower man.

They both nodded solemnly, agreeing with her choice. "We will miss the Keep, Mother. I expect next time I visit, you will perhaps be blessed with a grandchild." Beckae said, hugging her mother, who looked relieved.

Gwayne's brows raised at her words but agreed with them in front of the Queen. Soon, she left the married couple alone.

They shared a loud laugh together, holding each other at their small win. "Free at last!" The Princess cheered, earning a hearty chuckle from her husband.

"Indeed, wife. What were you saying, blessed with a grandchild? Are you so eager to be bed in your new home?" He asked teasingly.

She felt her face grow unrelentingly hot, scoffing. "I was only appeasing her." She said.

Gwayne hummed disbelievingly, nodding along. "I'm sure you were, wife."

At her gawking defenses, he only laughed and walked to his chambers to pack.

🏰

After a sickening three months on the road to Old Town, Beckae and Gwayne were more than ready to sleep on cushioned beds.

So ready, in fact, that they didn't bother to split into separate chambers. Both in Gwayne's chambers, the Princess and Gwayne relaxed in his spacious bed.

"I can not tell you how much I missed a proper bed." She sighed loudly, groaning in pleasure at the comfort. He did the same, humming his own praise.

Well into the night, the two merely talked and sipped on cups of sweet wine. In only their night shifts, Beckae could clearly spot a ring shining on his chest. She grabbed it, pulling it towards her slightly, fingerd brushing over his bare chest and earning a shiver from him. He leaned in with the ring, the chain pulling him by the neck.

"I did not notice this. I had thought you threw your wedding ring away the second you left the feast." She said softly, smiling at the sight of his matching ring.

"Of course not. I am not so cruel." He said, grabbing her own ring-adorned hand and gently placing a kiss on top of the ring. She giggled at the ticklish feeling, earning a smirk from Gwayne. He smirked, continuing to place feathery kisses up her arm, to her shoulder, then neck. The sensitive skin being so softly kissed made her shiver in turn, sighing pleasently. He paused before reaching her lips, grabbing her chin softly in his hand. Silently he asked for her approval.

Nodding, she was immediately drowned in a hot kiss, his tongue invading her mouth as she moaned. She moved her hands to his red hair, tugging at it. He moved her onto her back, hands squeezing her waist playfully. They pulled apart, lips swollen and panting.

The ring hung down to her own chest as he leaned over her. She twirled the ring in her finger, pleased at the sight of it. He was hers, and she was his. Entirely. She brought him down in a kiss again, pulling his chest to her own and adoring the heat that he brought with him.

That night, they comsumated their marriage in a way that no one could deny, every servant in the Tower being able to hear their Lord and Lady making heirs.

🏰

[sillygoosealert]

★Future predictions☆

Death, Marriage, idk angst?? Just Daisy being a silly billy Sukuna stuff

The King of Curses has you pinned underneath him, forcing you to take both of his cocks, one in each of your overly warm holes.

Making sure to keep your mouth occupied, he shoves his tongue into your mouth, filling it to the brim. Every inch of you is and will continue to be filled by him- that he would promise.

Not that he liked making promises. There isn't too much of a point to them. They provide a sense of security, but why would he give that to anyone who wasn't worthy of it- which is everyone.

Everyone but you, Sukuna thinks. For you, he would promise the world- if you would like that. That's something he wanted to promise, but he won't. Ever.

The Disgraced One could never promise to let you sleep in his bed, but Ryomen Sukuna could guarantee he won't let you leave afterward.

Right now, you're being crushed under his weight, gasping for air, as he doesn't do breaks after he's finished.

You begged him to be gentle for your first time doing- both of your holes, and he said he couldn't promise anything. This is one of the times he's glad he doesn't make promises, so when the inevitable happens, and Lord Sukuna does whatever he wants, no verbal agreement can be held against him.

It's foolish how much something as flexible as words can hold so much value for you.

It is also foolish how he gives in to your desires. Something he does in the moment and regrets soon after.

While your foreheads are touching and his breath is on your mouth, he rambles about how he truly feels about you. The words 'I love you' are said in his way.

"You will be my wife. I will give you the biggest ring and the nicest clothes.."

He likes to tell you these things to see your eyes widen and your heartbeat pick up.

Telling you, not asking, and not exactly promising. But saying what will happen.

When he puts you on top of him to curl up, he finds himself also falling asleep.

Waking up in the garden, he finds himself hand in hand with you. Eyes meet with his, filled with tears and shock.

A ring in his hand limp by his side.

"Will you marry me?"

Something he would never say if he had complete control of his body.

"Will you marry me?"

Is marriage something he could ever be content with?

"Will you marry me?"

The king of curses does not settle.

"Will you marry me?"

Ryomen Sukuna is staring at you while the words leave his lips.

"Will you marry me?"

Could Lord Sukuna truly love a mortal?

"Will you marry me?"

Would Sukuna be enough for you?

It doesn't matter what he thinks, because you're nodding your head vigorously as salty drops of water go down your cheeks.

"Promise me something, please." Promise? He's shaking his head yes without processing your words fully.

"Let me have the privilege of being your only wife. I am devoting my life to you, please, give me this, Sukuna."

Oh.

That might be something he could agree to.

You might be the only person, let alone a woman, that he would look into the eyes and make a genuine promise.

Very pretty, kind, soft eyes, on that note.

"You are the only woman I will call my own, I will promise you that."

"Are we ready for that?"

He's sliding the ring on your finger, cupping your face with another hand.

"We are. I will always be ready for you."

That might now be the full truth. The reality is he's so, so scared. This might not be the time. But now it's too late. It doesn't matter when he would prefer to do it. You're married now. Forever. Permanently.

"Does this mean we can have a cute little white fence and a pretty garden filled with daisies?"

He could do that.

"And a family?"

Hm..

"You aren't scared to have a child with me?"

"Why would I be?"

A good question with too many answers.

"Look at me, and tell me you aren't scared."

You look him in the eyes and open your mouth.

"I'm not scared of you."

Things blur and nothing makes sense.

And he wakes up.

There is no longer a ring on your finger.

You're sleeping beside him.

He did not overcome his fear of commitment.

You are not married.

There were no promises.

Nothing can be held against him.

But would it be so bad if there was?

Kinda rushes the seconded half, idk got mad and was just kinda over it lolz

[365granitegirlx]

⋆˚₊ show me what you are ⋆˚₊

enemies with benefits vessel x f!reader

summary: you despise your friend of a friend vessel, and he despises you. but you quickly learn you have more in common that you ever thought.

7.4k words

tags, head's up, etc: SMUT, soft sub!vessel, soft domme!reader, lots of antagonizing one another, enemies to lovers, established enemies, casual arrangement, making out, idiots in lust, sexting, masturbation (m + f), praise, dirty talk, pet names (puppy, mommy), cockwarming, cowgirl, pronebone, squirting

a/n: I'm nervous about this one. I've been working on this before I started feeling depressed and I just want it out on the world. Also, in the (paraphrased) words of @rat-that-writes "he could never hate me. I'm too hot."

You’re minding your business at a cafe when he comes in. You lock eyes like you normally do when you happen upon each other. Blank, dead eyes. Face so flat it’s not even a scowl. Sighs. Vessel. A friend of a friend of a roommate of a friend. And a thorn in your side. Ok yes he’s very smart…and witty…and talented…but it doesn’t make him any less arrogant and annoying to be around. You two run in the same circles but that doesn’t mean you hang out. You just exist, for better or for worse, in the same space. No one could understand why you and him didn’t get along. You two weren’t so similar that it was grating, but you also weren’t so different that you were unable to find common ground. But there was something in the way of you two connecting. Of feeling anything other than hate. 

You look back down at your book until you hear the chair across from you scrap across the floor and someone slump into it. 

“I need you.”

You take a deep breath and pinch the bridge of your nose. You look up at Vessel and notice he’s staring at you expectantly. 

“Say something,” he says somewhere between a plea and a demand. 

“What are you talking about…you ‘need’ me?”

He looks down. “Uhm, well, you see…”

“Ves…spit it out.” You’re trying to keep your voice down as more people come into the cafe. Why couldn’t you have had this conversation at the party you both attended the night before? 

“I…fuck. I have…needs and…”

“Oh Jesus Christ.” You roll your eyes and crack your neck. “It’s 10 am…”

“No, let me…finish. God. I…have needs and I don’t really…want to look far. To get them met. Do you understand? Uhm…I..”

Is he asking for…?

“Use your words.”

He doubles back a little and licks his lips. Why do his eyes look watery? “Yeah. Yeah I'll use my words. Uhm. I was wondering if you’d be interested in exploring something sort of…loose with me. No strings.”

You laugh out loud from shock. “Is this a sick joke?”

Oh his little heart breaks when you laugh. You can see it. His sweet face drops. “No…no oh my god. I would never joke about this. Look. Hear me out. I…hun I am desperate. I need to just…” he puts his hand to his forehead… “I need the companionship…and the release…but I don’t have it in me to look for a relationship. Not right now and perhaps never.”

This is the first time you’ve seen him vulnerable and quite frankly you could get used to it. There was something about his voice that was different. Calm. Normal. Sincere. But you still feel that pull towards aggression. Instigation. “And someone you actively despise and harrass is your top pick for a fuck buddy?”

“I know we argue a lot!” he barks back. You shift uncomfortably as a couple at a nearby table glare at you both. Vessel clears his throat and lowers his voice. “We don’t get along. And what I’m asking for is a bit much…maybe we just…pretend for a bit? Every once in a while?” He gulps and shakes his head. “I’m genuinely pathetic, I’m…I’m so sorry. I’m being a fucking knob.”

You cross your arms and consider what he’s saying. “So you’re asking to have some kind of…situationship with me…without ever trying to be nice to me first?”

He wipes his hand down his face and groans. “I…fuck it. Yeah I am. I am here groveling and asking you to sleep with me every so often so that maybe I don’t do my own head in. And, also, I just thought maybe…since you’re…pent up and shitty like me. Maybe you’d like to have some fun every once in a while? It would be mutually beneficial. Our mouths would be busy, eyes closed. Maybe we wouldn’t even know it was the other.”

You scoff. “What is that supposed to mean? Pent up…” you straighten in your seat. But you knew exactly what he meant. You were high strung a lot, and Vessel made an excellent target for your frustrations. How could two shit stirrers find any kind of solace with each other? But…you didn’t have any other prospects banging down the door (or you). You put your hands up in surrender. “Ok. Ok. I’ll bite. Yeah…fun would be nice…”

“Right…yeah, yeah. Because I get the impression it’s been a minute for you and…”

“Dude, come on!” You interrupt. 

“Look,” he shakes his head and looks away, “you’re a nice girl when you want to be. And maybe if this arrangement is with you…someone I don’t really see often or whatever…” he finally looks you in the eyes.

~

That next Friday you’re in his flat for the first time. You sit on the couch awkwardly as he brings you some water and plops beside you. Ves bites the inside of his cheek. No one has really made any moves but first times are always awkward right? No matter what was going to happen tonight, it would be a first of some sort. The first time you’re nice to each other. The first time you really touch each other. “You look pretty.” He says sheepishly. 

You look down at your baggy band tee and short yoga shorts. “Don’t lie to me.”

“My god just take the compliment. We’re here just trying to have a good time and…”

“Ok ok. Thank you…Ves…that’s sweet of you to say.”

He turns a bit more towards you, searching your face. His eyes trace your body head to toe as he tries to stifle a small smile. This was his idea and yet he still doesn’t want to show you how much he likes looking at you. Being around your pretty self. You suddenly start to feel nervous as he scoots closer to you. He curls his long legs up underneath him and gently touches your arm. You study his fingers like they’re some harmless little bugs before bringing your gaze back up to his face. He’s not ugly. No. You just never think about his looks because he’s so annoying to you. But here you both are, looking at each other in quiet fascination. Your breath hitches.

“Why me, Ves?”

“Why not you?” Vessel rolls his eyes and moves a little closer and puts his hand out tentatively near your thigh. You gulp, pulling his hand to rest on your smooth skin. His hand rubs gentle strokes against you and his breath deepens. “You feel so good. God.”

“Yeah?”

He bites his lip and looks at you so dreamily. You chuckle. The world stops for what feels like the hundredth time since you’ve gotten here. You feel your head spin a little as he looks at you with what you want to call “desire,” but how could you two ever feel anything other than disdain? Vessel clears his throat slightly. “You can back out…before everything changes…”

“Everything’s changed already, Ves.”

His hand moves up your thigh and squeezes, kneading your soft flesh. He hums contently when you move closer, nearly on his lap. You were wrong when you said everything had already changed. It actually changed the moment you two instinctively moved closer. Not a kiss, but a hug. At first it was tense. Like siblings being told to hug it out. But soon the awkwardness wasn’t the most distracting thing. It was how he felt to you. Sure he was lanky and toned, but he had a softness. A gentleness in how his arms pulled you close and enveloped you. It made you feel like the tiniest thing. And you could tell he enjoyed it and wanted to relax. As he loosened up, he held you closer. He breathed you in. You swear you could fall asleep until he drags cheek and nose up your neck…it reminded you of an animal scenting something. Or maybe he wanted your essence on him. He starts to speak in a barely there whisper and then clears his throat.

“May I, please, start kissing you?”

You gulp. The hug alone aroused you, and the thought of kissing him made you feel completely brainless. “Yeah,” you whisper thickly. 

Vessel places small, gentle kisses in the crook of your neck, taking his time and breathing deeply between each peck. His lips are naturally pouty and feel so soft on your skin. He lets his lower lip drag up to your jaw before placing a delicate kiss right by your earlobe. You would say you don’t know what to do with your hands but they move on instinct. One gently squeezes his waist as the other traces lazy patterns on the back of his neck. 

“I love how your nails feel on me,” he whispers. He sounds like a different person. He’s actually lost in you…and you would know because you’re lost in him. You let your hand drift up to his hairline where you begin to scratch his scalp. His head falls back; his eyes closed and lips slightly parted. You chuckle softly and move both hands to his hair. Eventually you’re in his lap but you’re hesitantly to really relax. “I’ve got you. Have a seat, love.”

You start to feel nervous and the nasty voice in your head that says you’re not worthy and perfect for this kind of situation gets louder. “Is it because I’m easy? Do you think I’m easy?” You blurt out. So many times you’ve been taken advantage of and it wouldn’t even surprise you if this was one of those times where you were in the right place and desperate. 

Vessel’s eyes open, and he looks at you completely lost. He leans forward and helps you cross your legs around his waist. “You… darling…are one of the most difficult people I’ve ever encountered. It must really mean something if you’re here…in my flat…nestled on my lap. And I’m grateful. Thank you.” He begins kissing your neck again but with more fervor this time. More need. Your back arches as his kisses become wetter and his hands knead your plush thighs and ass. It’s no use. You give in to instinct and gently move his face to yours but you both stop. Your noses touch but the realization starts to set in. As quickly as you came together, you’re pulling apart.

“This isn’t the move, is it?” You ask, getting off his lap and smoothing your hair back.

Vessel inhales and rubs his face, groaning. “No. It was a mistake. Besides, you gave me that look.”

“What look?!”

“Oh don’t play dumb. You know the look. The one where you watch me flounder when you could help me.”

You scoff and stand up. “Wow you’re catching on. That’s how I always look at you.” You start to walk towards the door when you turn back to him. He hasn’t left his seat on the couch and doesn’t seem to care to do so. You’re not quite sure what you’re feeling. Arousal, but also annoyance at how quickly the mood changed. Certainly it was Vessel that ruined it, right? You feel that familiar stirring. To project. To rile him up and tear him down. 

He stares back at you. “You’re as pathetic as me. Don’t forget that. You wanted this too. You probably still do.”

Him being both right and cruel about it ignites a white hot rage inside you. You want to scream at him

ask what you did to deserve this from him. To ask him why he makes himself so easy to hate. But instead, you leave. 

...

A week later you’ve kept your weird interaction with Vessel in the back of your head but until then, you couldn’t give two dicks. It was the weekend. And it wasn’t like you to be at a bar like this. Metalheads. The hottest, tiniest goth girlfriends you’d ever seen. You felt out of place but your friends said “noooo we should go! It’s something different to do.” So you put on little black dress and Dr Martens and said “fuck it.” And you were glad you did because a new environment also meant new guys…and to your surprise you actually got some positive attention. 

You found yourself chatting with a guy at the bar as you waited for your drink. He was friendly and handsome enough; you had the ugly thought that maybe he was one of those metalheads who had never actually spoken to a girl, but that was quickly forgotten when you started a thoughtful conversation about a series you both like. And it wasn’t one of those conversations where a nerdy guy dominates and info dumps and corrects you like a jackass. It’s just…enjoyable. He finally starts warming up to you a little and lets his hand graze yours, laughing at your reaction when a sludgier song comes on. You bite your lip and giggle a little, flirting with him saying, “maybe I need someone to help me appreciate metal a little more.” Your hands briefly touch again, and he leans a little closer…letting his free hand lightly touch your waist. You play coy and back up a little. It looks like he’s about to get his phone out before his eyes trail up and behind you. You’re wondering what he’s looking at until you feel a looming presence and a wide hand rub against your back and shoulder.

“There you are, gorgeous. I thought you’d forgotten about me.”

Your jaw clenches into a tight, fake smile. That accent. You look up at your uninvited guest.

“Hello, Ves. I’m sure I have no idea what you mean.”

The cute guy you were talking to looks confused and maybe a little sad. Fuck! You facepalm and groan as Vessel waves to him nonchalantly. “Heya…alright, mate?” His voice is dripping in sarcasm. 

Your brain scrambles. “He just means I’d been up here for so long I forgot about the friend group” you say trying to save face. “Not just him. Definitely not.” Vessel squeezes your hip in feigned affection which makes the guy tsk, roll his eyes, and walk away. “Wait, I’m serious,” but he’s already gone. You scoff, ready to pummel Vessel who was easily a head taller than you and more than capable of overpowering you if you tried. You actually liked that guy and thought something was there.

“What the fuck was that?” You ask, eyes shooting daggers into Ves. 

He snorts and shrugs. This is no big deal to him. “That guy was a loser.”

“So?! What do you care?”

“Oh come now, babes. You would have annoyed that bastard to death…he could have never kept up with you.” That shit eating grin. God you could just slap it right off of him. You know that he would leave you alone if you just…didn’t respond. Ignored him. But something kept telling you to egg him on. To react.

“You’re such a dick,” you say, rolling your eyes and walking away. You make it halfway across the bar when he grabs your arm. 

“HEY! I came over to talk to you. Don’t walk away from me.”

“Wow, and how inviting you seem right now! Sabotaging my night and grabbing me. Is this the only way you can get girls near you?”

His brows knit together and he stands closer to you…so much so you’re looking straight up. “Sabotage? Did you like him that much? If you really, really wanted to go home with him tonight then why are you here with me? Also…” he leans down to whisper, “I didn’t have to do much pulling and prodding to get to you mine last week.”

“What the fuck do you want” you sneer. But you find yourself wanting to stay put. The warmth radiating from his tall form. His cologne. The intensity of his gaze. Your attempt at a makeout session last week suddenly replayed in your head very loudly. You snap back to reality when Vessel huffs with a terse laugh and looks away. 

“I hate to say it but…I wanted to ask you something. Ask you…for something…again.” You search his face for understanding. He can’t even look you in the eye but you can tell he’s humiliated. Tail-between-the-legs humiliated. Little-boy-caught-by-mommy humiliated. The pause is heavy. The ambient noise in the bar fades away when he looks at you. He tries to find words but they aren’t coming. “Fuck. Never…never mind, it's stupid. Have a nice night” He lets go of your arm and storms away. 

You’re left there with your jaw on the floor. Usually this tall arrogant nerd wouldn’t shut up giving you a hard time. Now he’s running away. Without thinking, you follow him outside the bar and call out. 

“Ves, what the hell was that?” You hate to say it but you actually feel concerned. Like you have to finally put down your senseless grudge and actually talk to him. “Are you ok?” 

He looks out down the street. It’s a busy Friday night. Folks bar hopping, getting Ubers, whatever people who like each other do downtown, but it feels like it’s just you two. Your eyes bore into him, and he finally looks down at you. Blankly, but at least he’s looking at you. “I know how we can make the…‘situation’ work. 

“Oh? Other than bothering someone else?”

“Do you know what? This is your problem. You’re mouthy and always antagonizing to try to keep some hold over me…and I want all of it. I need you to keep being that way with me. Please.” His voice has dropped to a gravely murmur as his hands shake in clenched fists at his side. 

You two stare at each other for a moment too long. It’s uncomfortably intimate. You’re having a conversation without speaking and it eats at you. You should not want this. Not again. Not him. “What do you mean?”

He fidgets. “Don’t make me say it.”

“Are you kidding? You’re really going to stand here and ask me for something again without defining any terms? Without playing your part in whatever this sick little thing is?”

“If it’s so sick then why are you blushing? You blushed like that when I kissed your neck in my flat. You’re like me. Come on.”

You cock an eyebrow, realizing slowly what he means. “You like this…don’t you? Being put in your place?”

“You haven’t actually done it yet, but…if you did…we’d all feel better. Even if for a brief moment. An hour. An evening. Just…please,” he takes on that same pleading…groveling tone again. He means it. “I can’t…for lack of a better word and I know it’s stupid but…I can’t ‘show up’ and turn my brain off if we’re…equals or something.. So please…where do I belong? Tell me.”

The idea that this…dummy who antagonizes you wants to submit to you breaks your brain. But wait. 

“How did you even know to ask me about this, hm? Did you ask around…maybe even try to snoop on my socials?” Your voice isn’t harsh, but it isn’t gentle. Strict. Probing. 

The way he looks down and rubs the back of his neck, which suddenly looks biteable, is adorable. He gulps. “I uhm…I’m sorry…but I..”

You bite your lip and chuckle as he shifts from one foot to another. A couple walks past and gives you both a once over, which makes you stand closer to him. If he wants to feel claimed, you can try. Being in his personal space where everyone can see.

“I uhm…I heard you talking not too long ago…about…” he lowers his voice “about subby guys and…well..”

“Wooooow….so… been eavesdropping, eh, bub?”

He opens his mouth and only a little whimper comes out. “I’m so sorry.” He keeps looking down, but you reach up and guide his chin so he looks at you. 

“What a resourceful boy…” you say in a sticky sweet voice. “You were just dying to find something out to the point that you decided to sneak around? Was it fun? Little puppy sniffing around for clues…hm?”

Oh the blush that covers his face. The way his eyes sparkle. You know exactly when he overheard you wax poetic about submissive men to your friends at that party…because you knew he was there. You wanted him to hear…because you had your suspicions too. “Answer my question. Dig up your bones for me…did you have fun with your little secret mission?” 

He breaths shakily and bites his lip. Finally he nods…and gives you a big cheeky grin. “Yes ma’am.”

“Eh don’t call me ‘ma’am.’ Makes me sound old.”

“Oh sorry sorry uhhh I don’t mean to…”

“Ves…my goodness…it’s ok. You didn’t know.” You chuckle softly and feel like you’re looking at him for the first time. “Don’t be hard on yourself. And that’s my first order for you.” 

His back straightens a little and his pouty lips curl into a shy smile. “I can do that.”

“Good boy.” You can see his pupils dilate…his breath catch…his heart swell. Oh to be your good boy even though you despise him. 

Something inside you has snapped. Suddenly this insane “mutually beneficial” arrangement excites you. Having casual sex with someone you don’t like in the name of “some fun” was ok, but seeing now that he was naturally submissive made your head spin. This you could work with. 

“I will take a crumb. Honestly. Anything you’ll give me…even if this is the last time we talk about it and it falls through again…”

You put your hand up to stop him. “Stop that.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He winces when the word leaves his mouth. 

You smirk and brush his hair back a bit. Your nails lightly scratching his forehead. He wants to purr. To roll his eyes back and feel your nails all over him. 

“Look at you,” you whisper, letting your nails trail over his cheek. “Such a big baby. Aren’t you?”

“Let me take you home…please. Please…”

“No. Hmm. No, I don't think so. Not tonight.” 

He pouts a little bit but nods. “Yeah…yeah ok.”

“Mhm…be patient for me. Can you do that?”

He nods and bites his lip. You can tell he’s excited. “When we’re not like…playing or whatever…you don’t have to treat me any differently. It can be our secret. As we were, yeah?”

You take your time with this. You two rarely see each other as it is and like hell you’d mess with him in front of others. So things develop over texting and the occasional late night phone call…but usually texting. Talking on the phone leads to tone policing. Arguments. It’s best to just keep things borderline anonymous. 

Ves: are you too busy for me?

It was 10 pm. You were drinking wine in your underwear watching Scream. Technically, yes, you were busy. But you knew why he was texting and maybe it would be fun to indulge. 

You: I guess not. What do you need?

The response is instant. He was waiting for you.

Ves: nothing really. 

Ves: just wondering about you 

You: what about me?

Ves: what you’re doing. what you’re wearing. if I’ll ever actually get to be your good boy. feels like you want me at arms length all the time. Is that part of the fun for you?

What seemed like a fun flirty conversation has now turned somewhat emotional. You sigh, desperate to get things back on track. As you try to formulate a response, you get…oh.

The video’s thumbnail is dark, but you open it anyways. You hear blankets rustling and music being turned down as it becomes clear what he’s sent you. He’s laying on his back in bed; the blanket is pushed down to right below his belly button. You’ve never seen him shirtless…and now that’s all you want to see. Yeah he works out but he looks soft. Kissable. You can imagine how fun it would be to kiss down his neck to his tummy, telling him how pretty he is…making him feel small and fuckable. He starts talking…you can tell he’s nervous.

“Maybe this is too needy…too pathetic…I don’t know” he strokes his free hand mindlessly up and down his stomach, “but you like this. Maybe you want me to act out. Just tell me…please… Do you want me like this? Desperate…completely stupid…” As his voice trails off, he moves his hand down to his blanket-covered waist and palms…

“Oh shit,” you whisper as the outline of his cock comes into view and he speaks again. 

“I want you to want this…please…can I be needy for you?” The video ends just as he lets out a soft, breathy whimper. 

You compose yourself…or try to…and respond. 

You: look at you. Are you comfy in that big bed?

Again, the response is instant. 

Ves: yeah but I’m lonelllyyyyy. 

You: just pretend it’s me, sweetheart.

Ten minutes pass. Wait. Why are you sad he didn’t respond? Why do you care? Why…*ding ding*

Ves: ok, I did it. did I do good?🥺

Another text. A picture. What. A. Sight.

His hand concealed his now flaccid cock… but fully on show was his cum covered tummy. You choke back a moan and grasp your blankets. At this point you’ve forgotten who you’re texting and quite frankly you don’t care. 

You: such a good boy 🐶 you’re a hot mess, aren’t you? 

Crickets. Fucking. Crickets. You don’t hear from him for three days. You keep telling yourself it’s ok and not worth thinking about because you hate each other. It’s just mindless fun. Nothing personal. But then…it dawns on you. You’re technically in charge. 

You: come over  Ves: why? You: why do you think? be here at 8. don’t be a brat  Ves: 🧎‍♂️🐶 see you at 8

Right on the dot, he’s there. You’re hoping this doesn’t end the way it did last time. Necking in his lap before you came to your senses. But the energy is different. He stands close to and studies your face.

“What should I call you? When we’re…you know?”

“What feels natural? Other than ma’am…” you chuckle. Aw. An inside joke. 

He bites his lip and blushes. Why is he doing sweater paws with his hoodie? Such a slut. 

“I can think of one but…” he stammers, “not quite brave enough yet to use it.”

“That’s ok.” Your hands drift up to his chest, where you start to play with drawstrings of his hoodie. “Let me get you some water…do you need a snack before we get started?” 

He considers for a bit but shakes his head. “I can wait until you’re done with me”

You suppress a whimper. He’s in his subspace for you. Get it together. Also, easily entertained much? 

All he said implied was that he’d need sustenance after whatever you do to him because you’ll use him for all he’s worth. Very normal! Not worth whimpering over! “Let me show you my bedroom.” 

You gently pull let the hoodie’s drawstrings bounce as you let go of them. When you step inside your room he chuckles a little.

“Squishmallows eh?”

You give him a playful sneer, although any other time you would have laid into him. “Better get comfy with them if you want to do this.”

He’s already on the bed, shoes kicked off. He grabs one that looks like a shark and holds it to his chest. “Genuinely…your bedroom is really cozy. Thanks for having me over.” He says this as if it was any other conversation, but then he licks his lips a little. “I’m just going to lay here until you need or want me to do something. Is that ok?”

Well. You’re already straddling him before he can finish. “What have you been doing the past three days…hm?”

“I uh…” he stammers and looks up at you with watery puppy eyes. “Working. But…there were some things I didn’t do…”

“Yeah like talk to me.”

“Tsk. Stop. Just because we’re doing this doesn’t mean I’ve become a complete nympho. Honestly.” He rolls his eyes and looks away. “I was going to text you tomorrow anyways. I haven’t touched myself since that night we texted…haven’t…” he shifts under your weight and you feel a slight throb.

“Oh…is three days a long time for you? Hmm?”

He chuckles a little and squeezes the shark. “It’s…” he snorts when he laughs and hides his face. You move his hands and he chuckles a little more. What a beautiful sound. You realize you could recognize it anywhere and be better for it. “Yeah yeah yeah. It's been a long time for me. It’s usually everyday. Twice.”

“You gave up…six orgasms…for me? Of your own free will?”

“I wanted to do eight, gorgeous. I really did. But you texted and…”

“Well who said you were cumming tonight?”

He takes a deep breath and his eyes roll back a little. “My mistake.”

“No no no.” You lean down and kiss his forehead. “You did the right thing. Saving yourself up for me.” Your kisses trail down to his jaw. Fuck his soft and smooth. You gently nip at his earlobe and chuckle softly as he whines with pleasure. “You know what you are?”

“Hmm?” He lets out hazily. 

“A good boy. A good puppy. Coming when called. Obeying.” Your nose trails against his and you think for a second that this will be a repeat. You two will snap out of it. But he squirms again and pouts.

“I can be so good…please…”

“I’m not even doing anything to you yet…”

He groans as you slide off him and start palming his crotch. 

“Do you know how many times I got off thinking about that video you sent me?”

His cock bobs against your touch as he groans pathetically. “N-no…no idea. It wasn’t much…” 

You start to stroke him. Oh he’s needed this. His hips buck up into hand as he white knuckles the stuffed shark. Mumbled pleas fall from his pretty lips as you ask him what he’s hiding in his sweats. Your fingers slide under his waistband. His moans are whiny and whimpering. 

“Such a puppy.”

You slide his sweats and underwear slowly…just enough to free his cock. You gasp aloud. “Oh my goodness…Ves…look at you. Look. HEY.” You snap a bit to get his attention. His head is lolling back and you haven’t even touched his uncovered cock yet. “I said to look.”

He looks down and groans again as your manicured hands stroke him. You bite your lip and think about how exquisite it’ll feel inside you. The shark squishmallow is put to the side, and he comes up on his elbows. “Mmm..mm…your hands are so pretty. S’soft. Fuuuuck.” Your strokes are gentle and steady. His hips buck to control the pace but you gently flick his tummy. 

“Good boys don’t take.”

He pouts and settles into your bed. He seems to be enjoying himself. His legs twitching, his moans coming more often than not. But you wanted to play. You wanted his brain off. For now he was yours. You stop stroking. “Ves. Look at me.”

He whimpers when you stop and raises his head. The whimper turns into a strangled sob as the long string of spit from your lips coats the head. Your slow, teasing, wet strokes make his face contort like he’s sobbing. “Fffffff….uuuuCK! M-m-mmmm…mommy please.” You freeze and look up at him. 

“What was that?”

His face is all panic. “Oh my god oh my god no I’m sorry. It just slipped out…I’ll…fuck…no I’m so sorry.”

You lean forward and shut him up with a tender kiss on the lips. You allow his hands to trail over your ass and breasts, letting his touch linger a bit too long over your nipples. When you pull away, he’s blushing like crazy with hazy, dreamy eyes. “You’re such a good boy,” you whisper.

“T-thank you…mommy.” 

You slip out of your clothes and relish in his gaze. For the first time you don’t feel like he’s here to be your biggest critic…and you don’t need to mouth off to him. He looks at you with a dopey little grin. “Are you going to use me?”

You chuckle softly as you straddle him again. “You could say that. Make you my little boy toy. Would you like that?”

His whimpering keeps him from answering, probably because you’re teasing the head of his cock with your already wet pussy. “God…please use me. Please…it’s what I’m good for…I’ll make you so happy mommy I promise…please!!”

You blush and forget yourself for a bit when he brings one of his hands to his face. He looks adorable. He needs to be held. He needs kisses. “Give me a hand, puppy. Hold yourself still.”

He reaches down and holds his cock as you slide down. He hisses in pleasure and whines as you moan from the stretch. You grasp his chest as his cock disappears into your pretty pussy, your head thrown back and mouth wide open. Vessel’s breath is coming hard and fast as he touches you. He’s bottomed out inside you and he doesn’t dare move. You haven’t told him to. He needs to be good. The past three days won’t have been worth it if he fucks this up. 

You reach back and pat his thigh. “Bend your legs, puppy.”

“Yeah…yeah ok…” he groans out as he obeys. One hand holds his waist while the other trails under his hoodie. He whimpers and bites his lip as you toy with his nipple. 

“Lift your hoodie.” He lifts it only to expose his stomach but stops there. You tsk and pull it up so his chest is uncovered…mmm. “Look at my pretty boy…” you whisper as you kiss across his chest. You take in the warmth and natural scent of his skin…how he tastes under your little licks across his nipples…the texture of his skin between your teeth. A delicious chain reaction occurs when his cock throbs hard against you after leaving teeth marks on one of his pecs. “You’re being so good. I didn’t even have to tell you what to do.”

He looks at you hazily. You’ve only been cockwarming him, and he’s already empty headed. He nods dumbly but then yelps when your pussy clenched around him. 

“Tell me what you thought about that night…when you made the video.”

He gulps and holds you close to his chest. His cock is buried in your tight pussy but he doesn’t dare move.

“I..heh…I thought about being your seat. Your human mattress.”

You kiss and suck on his neck, admiring the red marks already decorating him. “Oh? You like being squished?”

“I thought about something like this. But you’re…you’re fucking me. You lay on my dead weight and then…” his cock throbs inside you and he whimpers.

“Shh I know,” you kiss his temple and nuzzle his face gently. “It feels so fucking good, huh? You like being under me like this?”

“Mhmmm…so safe…mm soft…fuck!” He holds on to you like he did with the shark plushie, his fingers pressing into your flesh desperately. He grits his teeth as he throbs inside you and whines. “Y-y-you’re so…tight. What the fuuuuuck.”

All this time you’ve been covering his face with kisses, grabbing his chin every time he tried to hide from your affection. His heels dig into your bed as he tries to keep himself from squirming and fucking you.

“Can you be still? Hm?”

“Ye…yeah. Yeah sorry…you just…aahhhh fuck…”

“Use your words, Vessy.” 

His eyes roll back and his back arches slightly. “Don’t call me that…makes me feel little…”

“I do have you pinned down…don’t I? You’re the one squirming.”

His eyes are glassy as he pouts. “Are you enjoying this? I…I…don’t feel like you are…”

You consider this for a second. 

“I don’t want to keep going if you’re not…” His eyes are desperate. “You need this too…fuck…please tell me you need this. You want this right? Please I’ll make you feel so good…if you just bounce on it a little. Please please…I’ll be such a good boy. You can lay on me and…and…I’ll just be a toy. I can take it…let me show you.” 

You don’t even realize you’ve started fucking him. Your hips roll gently, and he lets out an almost pained moan. His hips meet yours and your eyes roll back.

“Fuck…puppy…” your head and vision go a bit fuzzy as he bucks into you and…oh dear.

“Shit shit shit…I’m…I’m sorry…I’m cumming…baby…baby…” he bites his lip and looks up for reassurance as his hands mash you down further on his cock. He hates that he came so fast, it’s clear, but fuck it feels good. 

“It’s ok…cum for me…” you whisper. 

He lays back and catches his breath. You don’t move…his spent cock still trembling in your pussy. He whimpers pathetically.

“What’s wrong?” You ask. He’s clearly not just coming off his high. 

“Fuck I just….” He closes his eyes. “That’s so embarrassing. We barely did anything and I just…came like a fucking virgin. Go ahead.” He covers his eyes with his arm, “make fun of me. Tell me how pathetic I am.” Wow. He already wants to go back to normal.

“No. I don’t think I will.” 

You’re still on top of him. Cockwarming him. You gently move his arm and look at him softly. His lips twitch. Not to kiss you, but to try and smile. 

“You feel nice on me,” he whispers. “I really like your body. Even…even before we started this. Thought you were pretty.”

You chuckle a little and rest your chin in your hand. “Not sure why.”

He rolls his eyes. “Do you know why I hate you?”

You shake your head and let out a little laugh. 

“It’s because you’ve made me realize I don’t have to be miserable. That I could be someone to someone else. But that requires…change. Taking care of my…stupid self. Being better. I can’t have you. You don’t want me as I am. Honestly. I’m a wreck. It’s better for you to hate me and only see me as a plaything.”

His hands trace lazy patterns on your back. How strange it is to have this conversation while he’s inside…but that doesn’t bother you as much as his confession does. 

“Vessel. Jesus. I…Ves…I can’t stand you because you’ve never been nice to me. And now you’re saying it’s because you like me too much, yet not enough to get over yourself?”

He winces and sniffs. “It would be easier, getting over myself, rather than trying to not feel something for you.”

You move his face so he’s looking at you again. “Do you want to leave,” you ask. “You don’t have to stay longer than you want.”

Ves cups your face and tries to steady his breathing. “No. No, I don't want to leave. I want to stay and pretend I’m not me for just a little while. Is that ok?” You stare at each other…your breathing syncs…your eyes search other’s face. He strokes your face and purrs softly as his cock begins to stiffen again. Each time it throbs, you whimper, which in turn makes him chuckle softly. His hand slides down to your ass. “I need you. You’re the only one I want to…be with like this.”

“You don’t want this with someone you love.”

His eyes bore through you. He huffs and bites his lip, leaving an indention you swear would break skin. “May I please…may I please fuck you again? Properly. The way you deserve.”

You gasp softly and nod. “Would you like to be on top, puppy?”

His inhale is shuddering and sharp as he nods dumbly. You slide off him and lay beside him on your stomach. Ves seems confused.

“A-a-are you sure? From behind?”

You nod and beckon him closer. He slides off his sweats but you tell him to keep the hoodie on. “How hard are you for me?”

Leaning against you between your legs, he lightly taps his cock on your ass. It’s heavy and feels warm against your curves. He kneads your plush ass and whines a little. “So lucky…I am such..a…lucky…fucking…boy….fuuucckkkk.” He presses into your gushy pussy with a long, pathetic moan. You press against him, and his grip on your hips becomes shaky. “GOD you’re so hot….fuuccckkkkkk.”

You chuckle and moan as he thrusts gently…just trying to create some friction without completely losing his mind. He leans down and you feel the draw strings of his hood tickle your back. You reach behind you.

“What is it?”

“Come here, puppy,” you whisper softly. When he does you’re able to grab the drawstrings…anything to keep him in place. Leash him. Your fingers grip the collar of his hoodie now, and he collapses into you. “You going to be good? Stay right here for me, hm?”

He can’t even speak…he just lets out whimpers and moans that sound like sobs. You can only gasp with each thrust as he blubbers about it feeling “so..so..so..fucking good.” He whines into your shoulder as you pull him closer but the hoodie. “Please…let me…let me touch…please…”

“Mhm…” you let out weakly as he ruts into you. His hand trails down and under you towards your clit. You buck back into him as his nimble fingers find your clit. Cumming on your tummy never came easy, but with an eager lover, you think now it could happen. No matter who’s fingers it was rubbing your puffy clit between his fingers. 

“Mm…baby…baby let me bad. Please I know…i know…i know… I’m good boy but please let me bad…”

You grip your pillow and groan as your pussy quakes around his long cock. He takes this and your slutty, high pitched moan as consent. He takes your wrists in one hand and grips them roughly. You would be concerned about bruises if you weren’t seeing stars from the way his cock’s head rubs against your g-spot. He lets out something like a growl as he fucks you faster and harder. You’re mashed into the bed and cumming for the second time as he grabs you tight and bites your shoulder. You yelp and moan pathetically.

“Ves you’re so bad….you’re so…fucking naughty….” You’re cumming again as you lift your ass like you want him to mount you even deeper. He takes a break just to feel your orgasm squeeze him and to catch his breath. You let go of his hoodie, and he quickly rips it off. A sharp spank lands on your ass…he hisses with pleasure as he watches the skin of your ass cheek pinken before he lands another on you. 

“May…may I roll you over…please” he asks as he pulls out of you and rolls you over. It’s almost adorable how he toes the line between the asshole you know and a precious submissive boy. He spreads your legs, putting one up against his chest as he presses his cock back into you. One hand grasps your tummy and the other holds your ankle for leverage. “You’ve ruined me…” he moans as your name falls from his lips. Over. And over. And…over. He nibbles and kisses your ankle as he presses hard on your squishy lower tummy. His gasps come hard as it’s quite clear he’s reaching his limit.

“Ves…you’re gonna make me…fuck…I’m…”

“That’s it. Please…I want to see it…I need it…you’re so …ffffucking gorgeous….” he grabs you harder and rams into you with a powerful groan, his eyes wild as he exhales and bites his lip. “You’re…you’re going to cum…so….FUCKING hard on me…you won’t be able to cum again without thinking about me…Fffffuuuhhh”

His face contorts as his second orgasm ripples through his entire body. The thrusts become short, hurried bumps against your pussy as your back arches. You begin to rub your clit in rough, hurried circles as he fucks his cum hard into you. His eyes are misty as he mumbles about what a pretty angel you are…how good you’re taking his dick when…oh god…

A few moments later, he’s pulled out of you, looking down at the mess you made. You had never…ever squirted. And this…well…Vessel did that. You had no energy to hate. To be mean. Everything was different now. “I…wow…”

“Ever done that before?”

You lay back and catch your breath, wiping your watering eyes, shaking your head. “No…so…thanks I guess.”

He rubs your thighs and chuckles. “You’re amazing. Do you know that?”

You smile up at him and chuckle.

“Christ, what?”

“You’ve ruined it.”

“Oh…fuck off..ruined what?” He laughs and runs his fingers through his hair.

“My plans to die alone and hate you forever…thanks a lot.”

“Likewise, sweetheart.”

[merakiui]

after the delight that was jade's dream, i am now plagued by the thought of "jade vision," in which jade can't see people correctly. perhaps it's something like the hitachiin twins' mindset from ohshc (where they felt they didn't need anyone else because they had each other). perhaps jade feels he doesn't truly need other people (friends) aside from what he already has and so that affects the way in which he perceives classmates, friends, and even azul and floyd. he's so wrapped up in his own world with his fungi that he just doesn't take the time to view people clearly.

but then, by some alchemical accident, you and jade happen to switch bodies. now you get to see the world through jade's eyes, and it is such a unique thing. everyone looks so different. so it shocks you when you get to see yourself while in his body and you look perfectly clear, every feature unchanged.

something something jade vision is broken only for you because for the first time in a while jade's found someone he genuinely cares for and wants to know better. <3 do you see the (jade) vision!!!

[leonw4nter]

Hi hi, may I request a F1 racer Leon and photographer reader fic where reader somehow garners his attention in a sea full of people trying to get his autograph?? (Re4 Leon or Re2 Leon will do!)

Close To You

Racer!RE2!Leon x GN!Reader

You two lay in silence on your bestfriend Leon’s bed, staring up at the dark ceiling as you both listen to the soft whir of the ceiling fan overhead. He’s leaving in a few hours, right when the first few rays of pink illuminate the otherwise dark sky; in just a day, he’d be in a completely different timezone from you. He promises to call but you don’t expect him to stick to it a hundred percent; college will be a busier time in both your lives after all and with his aspirations, you don’t expect him to handle too many things all at once. It’s 2:20 AM and both of you should be fast asleep, him in his bed and you on your air mattress that Leon insisted on helping to inflate, but you both can’t find it in you to spend the last few hours sleeping.

“Why aren't you sleeping?” Leon asks in a hushed whisper. His head rests on his arm, his mop of ashy-blond hair sticking out in small strands due to the amount of times he ran his fingers through his tresses.

“Why aren’t you sleeping?” You respond back with a slightly aggressive whisper, head tilted to face him for a moment. “You’re going to be travelling for five-and-a-half hours. Staying up is going to bite you in the ass later.”

“I can’t sleep,” he responds back. “I’m nervous and already homesick.”

“C’mon, you got this! Nothing like a new change of scene for Leon Kennedy, right? It’s going to be awesome, I swear.” You reassure him with a smile, though your heart drops to your feet again and the feeling of missing him creeps up on you but he hasn’t even left yet.

“I mean… It’s gonna be an experience being in a new place and all but… I’m going to miss you,” he softly confides. He turns to lay down on his side, a hand tucked under his cheek as he looks at you through thin strands of his hair obstructing his view. “I don’t think we’ve ever done anything without each other. It’s gonna take a lot to adjust to this new setting.”

He sounds genuinely anxious, his voice lacking the usual confident quality it almost always carried. As sad as this whole predicament is making you, you’re forcing yourself to look less defeated than you feel; you can do the crying later for when he can’t see you anymore.

“I know, it’s… definitely going to be hard for the first few months but we’ll get around this eventually.” You reassure him with a small grin. “It’s not going to be the same without you, though. I’ll really miss you so don’t forget to at least text me, okay? When you’re free, of course.”

“I’ll miss you too and yes, I promise.” He sighs, shoulders slumping with his hushed exhale. He stares at you quietly through the dark, trying to map out your features despite the darkness of the room.

It turns into a game of staring and who will be the first to interrupt that has settled over you two like a blanket but it wasn’t the kind of staring that was just an empty, zoned-out stare; it was the kind where you two were committing every single detail of each other’s features to memory, to get the most vivid mental image you both can. You find it hard to swallow down that this face is going to be on your laptop screen, composed of pixels that won’t do his beauty any justice. He finds it difficult to grapple with the fact that he can’t brush the hair out of your face anymore or wipe away a speck of food at the corner of your mouth with his thumb. Turns out, this isn’t just a staring contest– it’s a contest on who can hold off from giving in to the desires of their hearts.

“You’re going to have a lot of your firsts without me,” you speak up. “First love, first parties, first kiss…”

“So, Leon, have you ever been kissed before?”

You’re taken aback by your own boldness, shocked at this question. Of course he has; in the third grade, Patty Briggs gave him a valentine and kissed him on the cheek before skipping off to her friends. You’re not sure if Leon remembers but you do and that’s because you were fuming that another girl has taken his first kiss away from you.

“No,” he responds. His voice is steady but you know that his cheeks and the tips of his ears are probably warm.

“Yes you did,” you counter before telling him about Patty and her valentine.

“I wonder how it–kissing– felt. If it feels slimy and icky or if it’s soft and plush.”

“Do you want to find out with me? How kissing feels?”

And that’s how you and him shared a first kiss on his saggy mattress, in his cold and dark room a few hours before he had to leave for the airport. Leon got his answer: it felt perfect, addictive. He wanted to keep kissing, to relive the spark of your lips pressing delicately. He even got the courage to bring a hand up to your cheek and bring your face closer, making the kiss feel deeper. He very well knew that he was running out of air but he didn’t want to break away, just lost in the velvety warmth of your lips, though slightly chapped.

Even when he was hours away from you, now onboard a plane, all the lovey-dovey songs he had on his portable music player were reminiscent of you and your magical kiss. You, on the other hand, were alternating between tears and giddy giggles. You managed to look put together and strong when you were seeing Leon get into the cab, though glassy-eyed by this time, but tears raced down the slope of your cheek fast as soon as the cab’s engine roared to life as the distance between you and him quickly grew from an inch to full-on kilometers. It’ll be hard to sleep with the lack of each other’s warmths on both your beds.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

Life was odd without the other, it didn’t feel entirely complete– bright moments would have been brighter if Leon was by your side, sadder moments would be less sad if Leon had you. You two promised to text and call as much as your conflicting and busy schedules could allow you both but soon the distance felt even more palpable, the five-hour time difference that would place you in his past too real and soon, you grew distant but you were not mad with him and he was not mad at you: you were both busy with your endeavors and life is a ball that keeps rolling, no matter how rough the terrain could get. No matter what, Leon still thought of you before sleeping, images of you flashing as he closed his lids; he thoughts about how you’d look now– if you cut your hair or styled it differently, if you got new piercings, or if you’d still smile at him with so much warmth. As if his fingers have a mind of their own, they travel upwards as the pads of his fingertips gently pat his puffy bottom lip as he thinks about the kiss you both shared before he left at the break of dawn’s first rays of light. He tries to fight back a smile, pushing down the giggle that threatens to rise from his chest and tries to contain it there until it dissolves into nothing. It doesn’t dissolve into nothing and the fizzy excitement that the mere thought of you conjures just doubles in amount; he has to do something about this and so he turns to his side, arms reaching underneath the pillow beneath his head, and brings it to his face as he laughs and giggles. He kicks his feet, occasionally poking out from his duvet. He realizes how stupid he must look now: a grown man giggling and shaking about in his bed when he’s supposed to be asleep at this time in the night but he doesn’t care, let a man explode into a fit of glitter and blue raspberry candies when he thinks about his best friend– wait, best friends don’t kiss on the lips. But you’re not exactly boyfriend-girlfriend either, you’d never said anything about it and neither did he but he’s positive that you like him back and so does he. Upon the realization, his giggles melt into a groan as he thumps on the pillow with a fist.

Like him, life has been fast-paced and seemingly unwilling to slow down for you. You had requirements to submit and organizations to attend to; things were busy for you but it kept thoughts of missing Leon too much at bay. You busied yourself with textbooks and leadership roles, a part-time job at a movie theater, being a photography studio’s assistant, and studies. You catch your thoughts slipping back to Leon– what is he doing with his life now? Has he got a girlfriend? How’s racing turning out for him? Has he been eating well? Does he still wear his retainer? You can only hold off for so long until all those feelings come to shock you in the middle of an otherwise lovely day. You wished that you both weren’t so busy or you both cared slightly less about whatever you were doing and talked for hours and hours again, maybe even watch a movie online, and discuss the cinematics of the film in full detail, maybe even share interpretation. You see his eyes on a clear blue sky, his hair in feather reed grass panicles, his voice in rock songs playing in music stores, and wrinkled blue t-shirts. You arrive home from university, dropping your backpack to the foot of the bed before flopping down to your bed. You lay silently, limbs spread out in a starfish position, and groan to let even a little bit of the stress and exhaustion leave your body. You move to sit up but your leg hits something, sending it cluttering to the ground.

“Fuck,” you hissed as you bent to pick the thing up. It felt light and rectangular and it clinked lightly when you moved it around. Switching on your bedside lamp, you noticed that it’s one of the cassette tapes Leon had given to you before. You look at it, a finger tracing on your name written in black marker with Leon’s angular penmanship.

“Oh, Leon,” you quietly mumble to yourself as you look around for your earphones. “Do you still listen to Queen? You still better.”

You find your earphones and slide the jack into the port, placing the buds on your ears and plopping back in bed once more as you face the ceiling. You click the play button, waiting for a song’s first melodies to come through. You expect an intro of drums and electric guitar but it’s a gentle piano that greets you instead and instantly you recognize it: ‘(Close To You) They Long To Be’ by the Carpenters. You and Leon had ‘your song’, a collection of songs that are strongly associated with each other and your friendship; most of them were songs like “Don’t Stop Me Now”, “Little Lies”, and “Total Eclipse of the Heart” but there were softer, calmer ones with that song being one of them. During camping trips with your family, you’d be sitting in the rear passenger seats sharing an earbud and singing along to the songs, most of the time going off-key but you were both happy regardless. You find yourself singing along alone, closing your eyes as you don't resist letting a smile tip the corners of your lips upwards.

“I hope you’re doing well,” you wistfully tell to no one. “I miss you.”

After several more songs, you fall asleep with the tape resting on your abdomen as ‘Eyes Without A Face’ by Billy Idol plays.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

After taking up several jobs and earning enough money to book a two-way flight, you pack your bags and head to the airport for a flight to Iowa for your semestral break. After having seen news of an all-too-familiar face slowly making a name for himself in the world of motorsports, you hunted down any bit of information you can get on when, where, and how much it cost to see him race. You thought about visiting him, catching up again like the good ‘ol times so hearing about Leon in this way just solidified your decision. Besides, it would be great to snap a different scenery for a change and it would look good on your portfolio. Energized by the cheap airport coffee, you go through the bag checks and take off your shoes as you wait for the officers to finish their inspection. After several minutes of inspection and waiting at the holding area for your flight, sketching the interior of the airport to pass the time, your flight is finally called and you get up to head to boarding. You finally get to your seat, right next to the window where you can get a perfect view of the clouds below. Unable to sleep last night, you went on a deepdive for the mechanisms of how an airplane flies. It was fascinating, to say the least, but it did make you slightly anxious; the thought of all the air in the Earth blipping out into nothing and the plane falling down to the ground scared you, making you shudder, but you pushed those scary thoughts away and replaced them with Leon. Did he grow any taller? Is he still that same dorky boy you knew? Would he still be down to be friends with you?

Leon did one last check on his car, a dark blue Panoz Esperante GTR-1 with white accents and subtle orange details before driving back to his hotel and getting some sleep.

“C’mon, Leon, she’s in perfect condition.” Marvin says, one of the engineers he consults with in order to maintain the condition of his car. “I checked her over and over and her diagnostics are all good but I’ll get up an hour early to do one last check up before the race.”

Leon nods, giving him a gentle pat to the back before greeting him good night.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

You tried to hold back your screaming, you really did, but when Leon crossed the black and white checkered finish line after several exhilarating laps you just couldn’t help but beam for him. You shot up and screamed at the top of your lungs, cupping your hands around your mouth as you chanted his name when he got out of his car and waved to the spectators. Now, you’re part of the crowd trying to get his autograph. You have your notebook and best pen in hand, trying to navigate the sea of people all flocking to him but you can’t blame them: he’s just naturally charismatic, something about his boyish awkwardness that’s endearing. You finally manage to squeeze yourself to the front, excitedly calling his name as you pointed your camera at him, adjusting the settings to make him the focal point– the focus as the world around him is a blur of colors.

“Leon!”

He’s in the middle of signing a teenage boy’s cap, making small chit chat with him as well. The photos are shaky, blurred, and sometimes obstructed by other people but you didn’t mind; you didn’t have to send these kinds of photos in, it’ll be kept near and dear to your heart though it’s imperfect and far from aesthetically pleasing. Your heart sort of squeezes at the sight, observing how his smile looks a little tired and feigned, overstimulated by the crowd hollering and pushing themselves at him but he still manages to be so nice and understanding. You decide to back off and wait until he finally sees you, not wanting to contribute to the added pressure of the moment. You laugh when he laughs, seeing some dads ask him for a photo and crack some corny dad jokes; you smile when you see him giving high-fives and fist bumps with little kids who were more than buzzing with energy to talk to him. Eventually, the sea of people around him thinned and you took the opportunity to try and talk to him again. You adjust your top and pat down your hair, doing your best to look fresh for when you get to see him for the first time in a long time. He’s just about to turn around and you skip ahead, patting the back of his shoulder. Woah, he’s a lot taller– his shoulders became broader now.

“Can I get a quick photo of you, Leon?” His body took a screenshot, freezing for a moment. He stares past the camera and into your eyes, taking in the sight of you all smiley and even more heavenly. You swear that his body took a screenshot, freezing for a moment. He lacks words and makes up for a hug, placing the notebook and pen down to the ground and wrapping you in a tight hug.

“Buddy,” you softly say as you reciprocate the embrace. “I missed you too.”

You swear that you heard a small sniffle come from Leon, patting his back as he stays still and keeps his head in the crook of your neck. After quite some time he pulls off, placing his hands on your shoulders and looking deep into your eyes. He breathily says your name, a hand climbing up to cup your cheeks.

“How… How’ve you been?” he asks in a shaky voice. “Woah, you look– you’re even more pretty now. Um, awesome– you look great! You– you’re… um— I-”

He stutters, cheeks burning. His hands leave their perched positions and his right hand travels to rub at the back of his neck. You giggle at this, smiling at him. He’s still awkward and dorky as ever.

“You look great too,” you compliment. “I love your arms, they’re a little bigger compared to the last time I saw you.”

“Yeah… I’ve- uh… been working out, yeah. Part of the… uh– job.”

“Yeah? Or have you been working out for a girlfriend?”

“Me? Girlfriend? Oh, uh– no. I don’t… have one. It’s just been– well, nevermind.”

“Hm? Go on, just been…?”

“I’ll tell you over coffee! How’s that sound?” he says a little louder, clearly eager to tell you more of his life since he’s moved. “If you want. Only if you want to, of course! No pressure.”

“I’d love to, Leon. We can have as much coffee as we want for quite some time– I’m on my break from school.”

“Great! I mean– me too. We can go now, if you want! I’ll just– I’ll just clean up a bit and check with my team and we can go! Sounds great!”

“Sounds great, looking forward to it.”

You lean in close to him, a hand fisted around the collar of his fire retardant suit and drag him forward to be eye level with you. You press a kiss to his cheek, letting your lips linger a little longer before pulling away.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

He takes you to a quaint little café, offering to pay for both your drinks and pastries as you dine over a conversation between two friends catching up.

“So, yeah. It’s a little hard to juggle the police academy and racing right now but there's nothing I can’t do, right?”

“I thought about you sometimes, especially when I listened to our jam. I seriously thought about all the times we had to do a tense back and forth for borrowing calculators because I forgot.”

“I take it that you have a boyfriend?”

“No! I mean– no, I don’t. I’m free, single even. No dates or anything… so I’m up for more coffee dates.”

Leon smirks, reaches to you and wipes a flake of a pastry from the corner of your mouth.

“So, this is a coffee date for you?”

It’s your turn to be flustered and all flushed, setting down the scones you were happily enjoying with clotted cream.

“No! I mean– yes! Well, more like a reunion snack between two… um… best friends who haven’t seen each other in years!”

He reclines in his seat, arms crossed over his chest as an amused smile is on his face. He looks playful now, a lot less awkward than he was on the drive there.

“Two best friends don’t just kiss each other on the lips,” he retorts. “Would you like me to court you then?”

“Court… me?”

“Well yes,” he carefully broaches the topic. “I’ve been thinking about you over the years we were apart. I haven’t had any girlfriends, I can’t find it in me to be attracted to someone who isn’t you. I’d like to give us a try but only if you’ll let me, of course.”

You stare at him, cheeks slightly puffed out with your fingers frozen in grabby fingers from having previously intended to reach out for another pastry but his words just rendered you still in your seat.

“Um! Well, I’d… I’d love that!” You tell him. “Please, please do. I’ve been thinking about you too– no boyfriends for me, not a boyfriend who isn't you.”

He smiles, excited. He’s already coming up with ideas on how to woo you– he’ll do those birds’ attraction dances and flail his arms around if it means convincing you that he’s worth your time.

NOTE - first off, thank you to the anon who sent this!! I know you waited a long time so I hope this lived up to your expectations <3 !! next thing, fic drops will be a lot less frequent since i'm getting quite busy with things but dw since i'm getting close to completing all the requests in my inbox :) updates about how i'm doing umm... i've found out that I quite like collecting stickers, like random stickers. i found this out when i bought some stickers from business students selling them for a project. Anyway, that's it and thank you for reading my ficsss!!!!!!! I <333333333 UUUUUUUUU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[lainsshop]

I’m Your Man ୨ৎ

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Tags: angst(?), established relationship, out of character(?) n probably more..

Song: I’m Your Man - Mitski

A/N: i really don’t know about this one.. give me your thoughts tho!

Alastor is known as a huge narcissist, sure but you were the only one who got to see the “real” him, not only the real murderous side of him but also the soft spot he has for you. You made him feel.. weak?

Ever since you two got together, he view you as you were apart of him like an accessory but also much more than that, his lover. He absolutely adored you, you really accepted his flaw self even if he doesn’t admit he doesn’t have flaws.

He never wanted to admit to so many things cause he believes one second of him showing his weak self will make his enemies aware of that and it will put him and yourself in even more danger.

You were also the only one who got to see him in a vulnerable state, which is rare to be honest. Maybe he doesn’t wanna worry you, he really doesn’t but every time he’s in that state he would always come to you and you will listen to his words.

“You’re an angel, I’m a dog,” He started to slowly say as you two were in the hotels library. The door was locked, the sound of rain and fire cracking could be heard and a sweet slow tune next to you as you play with his hair and ears carefully.

“… or your dog and I’m your man.” There was times were he gets.. poetic in some way. Luckily, you knew what the meaning of his words meant.

He didn’t looked at you in the eyes. “You believe me like a God,” He continued. “I’ll destroy you like I am-” Oh, he could. He could easily hurt you in a second, he doesn’t tho. You being so near to him is like a risk to both of you cause he never hesitates to do anything. Like that night..

“I’m sorry I’m the one you love..” You see, you two met when you were alive, you were a lil bit younger than him by that time and he involved you into his weird habits like killing people, cannibalism, so much more and then your death..

Deep down, he blamed himself for that. That night, he took you into the woods to hide a body, usually it went well but then you guys got mistaken as a deer and the hunter got you first.. he looked at you dead body and then- he woke up in hell.

He couldn’t even process what happened in that exact moment so when he appeared in hell, he wasn’t surprised at all but then he remembered you. He genuinely thought you went to heaven but then again.. you helped him so he looked around.

“No one will ever love me like you again, my dear,” He finally looked at you as he grabbed you hand and gave it a small kiss. “So when you leave me, I should die.. I deserve it, don’t I?”

You froze a bit at that. You looked at him with a surprised, shocked and worried expression. “Al-” “I can feel it gettin’ near like flashlights comin’..” You wanted to tell him how much you meant you him, how even if he’s not the affectionate type or how much of a bad he is, you still loved him ever since the day you met but-

“One day, you’ll figure me out..” There was apart him that you really didn’t knew and he feared that. He feared that one day you’ll know more about him, more deeper about him and leave him. You knew his murderous way, yes but do you actually?

“I’ll meet judgement by the hounds,” A silent scratchy static could be heard as he said the last word. He was still smiling as he spoke.

“You always gave me love, you were never to blame after all, mon ange..” He looked at you with a bit of sad soft eyes as he cups your cheek and his thumb strokes your under eye.

The sudden sound of dogs start to appear outside in the rain. You two looked at each other as you had watery eyes trying not to get emotional or anything. There was silence between you two until-

“You believe me like a God-” A tear fell down your cheek. You suddenly hug him, not too tight, just enough to show him that you cared about him and you didn’t care how he really is.

He started to caress your hair. “I’ll betray you like a man.”

© LAINSSHOP 2024

[oneofthetorturedpoets]

keep on pretending pretty girl.

part 2

It's been three months since you and Regina started dating. No one knew about it and Regina made sure of that. Every rumor she shut down and every whisper she shut up. At first you didn't mind, you actually wanted it too, but then there were rumors that Regina was hooking up with Aaron in the third floor janitorial closet and that worried you. You knew that she dumped Aaron that same day she got with you but you also know that she has a history of cheating. She excuses it as her not knowing she was gay yet, but you're not sure if that's entirely true.

When you got the text that Regina was on her way to her college prep class, you waited about 15 minutes before marching your way up the stairs. With each step, your anxiety grew. Would Regina cheat on you? The thought kept circling your mind.

You reach the door, pulling it open to reveal a dark empty closet. You feel relief fall off of your shoulders. She wasn't lying to you.

-

'come over, we need to talk.' You got the message from Regina, right when you were getting ready for bed. You sighed, texting her back that you'll be right there.

In 20 minutes you were knocking on her front door, waiting to be let in. Regina's mom answers the door, not at all shocked to see you with how often you come over. "Hey girl! How are you? I'm so happy you're here, there was-" Regina is already right there, pulling you away from her mom and up the stairs.

Regina practically throws you on her bed. "I heard you were checking the janitor closets to see if I was cheating on you?" Anger laces her tone.

"I was, I'm sorry, I should've trusted you." You say, the words coming out worse than you want.

She scoffs. "Why didn't you? I haven't done anything for you not to trust me!"

You stand back up. "It's not that I don't trust you! It's the fact that we are hiding our relationship for no good reason!"

She shakes her head, walking to the other side of the room. "You know my status, if everyone found out-" It was your turn to be mad.

"They would what? Make fun of you?" You yell back.

"Yes!" The room fell silent. "wait, I didn't mean it like that" You turn around, walking out of her room. "Y/n, wait." You storm down the stairs.

"Maybe we can work this out when you're not embarrassed of me, Regina." You slam her door, walking to your car.

-

The next day was luckily Saturday so you wouldn't have to see Regina. That didn't stop her from blowing up your phone.

That day you just thought back to every time you interacted with her in school. She would look past you every time you saw her in the hallway. She would make sure to pick you up the next block over so no one saw you two together. She refused to sit next to you in class or be partnered up with you. To everyone else, it looked like she hated you. You knew that you were two very different people but for her to be embarrassed to be seen with you?

-

You saw Regina walking in to school that next Monday. You could tell that she wanted to talk to you but she stopped herself. Clearly still embarrassed by you.

-

Around fifth period, Regina pulled you into one of the closets. "Y/n, please-"

you genuinely laugh at her. "You can't even attempt to talk to me in public still... after our huge fight, nothing has changed? God Regina, you're hopeless." you walk out of the room, Regina follows.

"Y/n, I'm sorry. I am not embarrassed of loving you, I want everyone to see how much I really do love you." Regina pulls you by your wrist, causing you to turn towards her. She tugs you closer, interlocking your lips. You melt into her, all of your anger and sadness washing off of you. Everyone is taking pictures and recording but you couldn't care less. "Please forgive me, y/n. I didn't mean to make you feel like I was embarrassed by you." You just shake your head, pulling her in to kiss you. Glad you're able to kiss her in public and not feel like you're doing something wrong.

-

taglist: @pyro-les @natashamaximoff-69 @allamanamedearl @ricejucie @marvels--slut

to be added to the taglist, send in an ask!

[wanderersbell]

when he lets you wear his hat

wanderer x gn!reader

genre: fluff

warnings: dark humor (just in the beginning)

word count: 1168

a/n: i am a firm believer that scara loves dark humor yes i might be projecting but nobody can change my mind ( ˘ ³˘)♥ enjoy!

your unwavering patience is something you’ve always taken pride in. 

there have only been a few instances where you’ve lost your cool in the fleeting years of your life, always feeling a certain kind of superiority in situations where you can hold your own even if it would be reasonable to let go for a moment. 

but now, after weeks of nonstop backhanded comments and complaints from your traveling companion, it is through sheer willpower alone that you haven’t turned around and tried to bite his head off every time he opens his mouth. 

“you seriously can’t swim?” the wanderer asks from somewhere behind you. “didn’t you ever have fun as a kid?”

you bite the inside of your cheek and keep up your brisk pace while he snickers to himself like it truly is the funniest thing in the world. the unforgiving desert sun is hot against your back and the fine grains of sand that keep finding their way into your shoes feel like they’re rubbing your skin raw, leaving you sweaty and miserable. 

the one traveling with you doesn’t share these sentiments, hardly even taking notice to uncomfortable sensations anymore, and thus remains entirely unbothered, much to your annoyance. 

he almost seemed understanding at first, suggesting you take a dip in a nearby oasis to cool off before you overheat, but one insignificant mention of your swimming skills, or lack thereof, had turned into him making fun of you for it before you could even begin to regret bringing it up. 

the wanderer doesn’t relent even when you keep ignoring him. “surely it’s not because you’re afraid, right? what’s so scary about water?” 

“quit it.” you warn him sharply, gritting your teeth so hard your jaw begins to ache. of course, you’re already expecting him to do the opposite. 

“wait, don’t tell me.” he starts, jogging a bit to catch up to you. “nobody bothered to teach you? mom just too busy to make time for you?”

this has you freezing in your tracks, coming to a halt beside him, and before you can even process the thought going through your head-

“at least i actually had one.”

the silence that follows is deafening as you snap your head up to stare at him, his expression of shock mirroring your own. guilt starts twisting around in your stomach as soon as the words leave your mouth, but the joyous laughter that erupts out of your traveling companion the next second chases it away as he hunches over and cackles.  

“that was incredible,” he gasps out. 

you narrow your eyes at the sight but you can’t help the smile that starts tugging at your lips seeing him thrown into such a genuine fit of giggles, the sound melodic and tugging at your heartstrings. “why are you laughing?”

he lifts an arm to wipe the sweat off of his forehead as he starts to calm down, leaving you with a bundle of conflicting emotions tangled together in your chest. 

“i never thought you had it in you.” he explains, sounding almost… proud? there’s an undeniable glow of satisfaction on his face, and it’s only then that you realize, this entire time, his goal was to get you to play along. 

“looks like you really can teach an old dog new tricks,” the wanderer shrugs, his usual shit-eating smirk returning to his lips. 

“i- wha?” you sputter incredulously. “haven’t you been around for centuries? and you’re calling me old?”

he makes a noncommittal sort of hum as you two start walking again. a comfortable silence falls over you both, the man beside you finally silent after getting what he wanted out of you. however, the heat isn’t any less forgiving than it was moments prior so your pace inevitably slows until you’re forced to stop and lean down to rest your hands on your knees, each inhale of hot air offering absolutely no relief. 

when he realizes you stopped walking and turns around to send you an unimpressed look it’s quickly replaced by poorly masked concern that shows in the furrow of his brows and the tight line of his lips. it’s only then that he remembers the bottle he watched you pack earlier that morning. 

“drink,” he says as he reaches into your bag and pulls out a full flask of water. you grab it from him gratefully and can’t help the sigh you release at the coolness of the liquid from being inside of a metal container. 

the wanderer watches you wordlessly as you twist the cap back on and turn to put it back in your bag, and the second you look away the feeling of something being placed on your head as well as suddenly being enveloped in the shade catches you by surprise. when you whip around to meet his gaze he avoids yours and walks a few steps ahead, arms crossed and hat mysteriously missing. 

when it clicks, your jaw drops a fraction and you reach up to slide your fingers along the gold metal leaves, finding them hot to the touch from the scorching sun. 

the wanderer never lets you touch his hat. not even as his trusted companion. every time you’ve tried in the past, he’s quick to step out of your way or slap your hand back whenever he sees you going for it. there’s a sparkle of joy in your eyes when he peeks out of the corner of his to take in your reaction and scoffs when he sees the awe on your face. 

“come on, let’s keep moving.” he huffs, tone sounding irritated. 

unused to the weight of the wide hat balanced on your head, you catch up to him on wobbly feet, one hand still holding onto the rim so it won’t tip off. how the wanderer manages to jump around and run without it sliding everywhere is beyond you, because it feels like it could fall off at any moment. 

this does not go unnoticed to the man next to you, but you’re too busy trying to stand straight and walk without tilting too much, so you’re not prepared for the gust of wind he flicks at you that tips the hat up and off, saved from falling to the ground only by his hand that shoots out to grab it and put it back the way it was before. 

“hey!” you pout indignantly, sending him a look of annoyance. when your meet eyes meet his, his vibrant indigo irises are swimming with mirthful contentment, and a small smile rests easily on his face. it’s not an expression you get see on him that often, but like always, it causes pitiful flutters in your chest. 

your frown softens despite yourself and you avert your gaze to the horizon where the sun hangs high in the sky, feeling thankful that you can just blame the flush staining your cheeks on the heat if he points it out. 

what a truly insufferable travel companion you have. 

[fairestwriting]

*KICKS YOUR DOOR DOWN*

IT'S 8 AM AND I HAVENT SLEPT. I FOUND THE WORD DOCUMENT SO HERE HAVE THE FIRST ONE IT'S THE SIMPLEST ONE I'VE GOT I'M GOING TO BED

Maybe Vil finding out MC is basically his equal in their world? A famous actor/actress, model, makeup artist, etc? Maybe they're super casual in this world so it's not obvious until it gets bright up what they did in their world?

MAYBE i am really simple maybe i will see a vil request and black out and go crazy.......anon please go to bed at regular times (<- guy who does not do this either)

Vil Schoenheit

He's not completely clueless, he does put in the effort to keep up with trends after all-- But it's exactly because of this that he ends up not really recognizing you.

The entertainment industry has no shortage of people, and in the end, Vil is still only human, no matter how much of an eye for detail he has. It's hard to remember other artists' names.

He does get a feeling that he might have seen you before, but he can't really figure out where. It sort of gets on his nerves for a bit. If you pay attention you can catch on to this hint of odd curiosity every time you talk to each other.

There's no way he misses your charisma, either. Still assuming you're not in the position you actually are, Vil is genuinely surprised at how good you are at dealing with people. Even when you seem tired or out of it, you still keep a smile on your face and a pleasant tone to your voice.

Of course, though, he'll still be stern sometimes, even as you grow closer. Maybe he ends up even being a little bit harsher than usual because he sees all that potential in you. At the same time, though, he's a lot more gentle outside of things like school projects. If you show that you know a thing or two about fashion or performing, he's absolutely willing to discuss.

Then, he eventually finds out. Maybe he stumbles upon one of your posts in social media. Maybe you straight up run into each other when he's doing a photoshoot. Later he'll think he should have seen this coming, but in the moment, you're getting the privilege of being one of the few people who really shocked this man.

He'll keep it together if you're both in public, but the second you're not, he's kind of a mess? He doesn't want it to show, but obviously now there's this whole new concern about your relationship hurting his or your career, and wondering if anyone's seen you two together already, and just how the hell did you fly under the radar for so long, he's not mad, he just really needs to know--

Of course, you talk, calm down, and it works out. And deep down, he's happy about being with someone who can really understand the specific struggles he goes through, besides being able to trade work tips and share stories. It feels comfortable.

Honestly though? He's not getting over how you just did that. He's too proud to say it, but he's forever baffled at how insanely good you are at blending. Sometimes you catch him staring. Mostly it's just out of fondness. Other times he's trying to figure out how to pull off your totally-not-a-celebrity aura so he can go to the mall in peace.

if you wanna support my work, you can buy me a ko-fi or commission me!

[fruitgummies01]

New Here!

As a new fan of BTS and as someone who is curious/intrigued by the dynamic between jikook, I would genuinely love to know how the fans got to the place where it is now with the ships within the fandom. It's so toxic everywhere, and I'm a little shocked to be honest. I thought Are You Sure would be a cute show that the fandom would be excited to watch, but a lot of fans ignored it when the first two episodes were released (which in hindsight was probably for the best). And since the last episode dropped, there's been nothing but fighting.

For context I became a BTS fan in 2023 and so I don't really know all the history of every interaction prior (I'm still learning). I love every member and root for their success both individually and together as a team. As someone who is just learning about everything (I've been obsessively consuming all BTS content), and when it comes to Jimin and Jungkook's connection, I've seen some of the discourse about them online. To be fair I didn't really have an opinion one way or the other, since again I'm pretty new here, I'm trying to take content at face value. But after the first two episodes of Are You Sure, it feels obvious to me that there is an intimacy there between them. Even in episode three, JK can be seen rubbing Jimin's thigh when they are at the table, something that just looked automatic and natural for him to do. From all their earlier conversations in the first two episodes, to taking care of each other since they were both sick, to the concern, to Jungkook's "you're here. finally". Even though they were filming, it all just felt really real and honest. Plus Jungkook saying he wanted the show to go on for years even after they get out of the military, said more to me than anything else. Jungkook values spending time with Jimin and is already looking towards the future, just the two of them.

As for Taekook, it definitely seems to be the more widely accepted ship (I see so many accounts with hundreds of thousands of likes and followers on so many platforms). Plus there are so many taekook comments under pretty much any content related to BTS, even under content from people who are just reacting to BTS content on youtube or patreon. For all intents and purposes Jungkook and Tae seem to have a beautiful friendship, but I just don't see how people romantically ship them (no offense lol). And it's not because I don't see a connection between them, but because I just don't see how it would make much sense, and I'd want so much more for them from a partner lol. Like what would it say about their relationship if Tae was learning about JK traveling with someone else through a schedule on their BTS group chat, or having to basically invite himself, or how the last group live where JK seemed hyper-focused on Jimin (even though he was already planning to enlist with him), or JK watching hours of Jimin specific content on lives, or planning a travel variety show with someone who you were already planning to enlist/spend every day with, or being all over someone else in bed and repeatedly rubbing their legs (bandmate or not). Like no shade, but I feel like romantically shipping Tae and JK is lowkey insulting to them as people, because they both deserve to a be priority to whoever they are in a relationship with. Also a little confused how fans seem to ignore Tae having been in a relationship with Jennie??

All my confusion aside, I am just really looking forward to watching the rest of Are You Sure, and discovering more about them and their dynamic. I love that Tae joined, even if it clearly shifted the dynamic from the first two episodes, and hopefully all the negativity suddenly surrounding the show won't ruin my excitement and love for it.

[schoenpepper]

Intro: You choose the emerald ring and bracelet.

Warnings: bad grammar, awful writing, photos aren't mine, mentions of death ig

A/N: Malleus is just so male-lead-coded it's actually insane. Like, crazy powers? Pretty face? Unique fantasy race? Green flag???

Masterlist

You pick up the emerald bracelet and ring set. You would hate to let Malleus down, as he's genuinely one of the sweetest people you've ever met. Not to mention, you really do enjoy spending time with him, so being at the ball shouldn't be any different for how you two usually act around each other. The moment you step inside the lavishly decorated ballroom, the handsome prince makes his way to you, seemingly just short of teleporting in his effort to get to you faster. "Child of Man, I am very much pleased that you have accepted my invitation." Malleus says happily, holding out his hand.

"Of course. Thank you for inviting me." You take his hand and walk with him slowly to the center of the ballroom.

"I must say, you look absolutely marvelous tonight. Not that you don't look marvelous normally. You look incredible every day."

"Thank you." You chuckle. "Malleus."

He seems slightly shocked at the first time you've ever used his real name. "Y/N." His voice is soft when he returns the favor. He looks at the accessory on your hand, tracing his finger over it. When the orchestra begins a new song, he leads a solemn waltz with his eyes never leaving yours. You fall into a comfortable silence with him. With every turn you make in his arms, the background fades more and more, but the color of his eyes seem to glow sharper and you're helplessly drawn to him. This isn't good. You could've lived with ignoring your 'avoid the capture targets' plan, but breaking the most sacred rule of all? It's ridiculous. You could be in danger. You could die.

His hand squeezes yours.

The villain died in so many different ways depending on who the main characters chose because that stupid villain fell in love. And yes, you're technically friends with all the male leads, but who's to say that the world won't suddenly force everyone to play the role they were supposed to? There's still so much you don't know about this world, or why you're even here. Falling in love with Malleus Draconia of all people is so, so very dangerous.

He sways you as the dance comes to a halt.

You look into his eyes again.

You should stop. You should tell him that you can no longer be friends with him. Crawl back into your shell and be cautious, be safe. Love your life more than you love this man you've only known for a year.

You hold his hand tighter.

"Malleus. I love you."

Try Again?

[ffsg0jo]

I loved your Ramadan works with the JJK characters. It's so nice to see another muslimah who writes for JJK :)). I am not sure if you are still actively posting, but would you consider writing a piece with the cast's reaction to the hijab and abaya? JazakAllah!

jjk characters with a muslim/hijabi reader [gojo edition]

gojo x reader [platonic or romantic it's open to interpretation]

w/c: 955 words

a/n: i got so carried away writing gojo's i realised if i added more characters, it'd be an incredibly long post. so i took them out and i'm gonna post them over the next couple weeks <33 so far i have megumi, nanami, itadori and nobara lmk if you want anymore characters :)) also guys pls feel free to send requests/suggestions :))

also anon you're the sweetest person every thank you so so much you've single handedly given me motivation to keep writing and ive got more works coming out. i hope you're having an amazing day inshaAllah bestie 💗

Gojo definitely thinks you’re doing a cosplay of some sort. It’s not uncommon in certain parts of Tokyo, so it’s safe to assume so most of the time. Even he’s been mistaken for Kakashi cosplays a lot of the time, with his black get-up and blindfold.

But then he sees you wearing different colour hijabs and abayas, and sometimes even a cute lil jilbabs and it confuses him. Suddenly, the thought occurs to him that maybe you’re not in a 24/7 cosplay, like him, and actually just dress covered head to toe.

As soon as he reaches that epiphany you best believe he pesters you and badgers you for answers. “y/n are you cold? is that why you’re always dressed like that?”

At first, you think it’s funny to give him nonsensical answers because he keeps saying stupid things, but you realise he's being deadly serious. plus, he gets increasingly bothersome, so you eventually get annoyed from all his questioning and just tell him about how you’re a Muslim and observe hijab.

He actually takes it quite seriously and apologises for lowkey making fun of your shitty cosplay in his head. He’s ignorant, not prejudiced, so he defo takes it back and, for once, takes accountability and apologises for his actions. He’s personally not a believer, but he respects it.

Once, you complained about how expensive abayas were becoming and how you just wished someone would just buy you a whole wardrobe of them to all the students, and he happened to overhear.

Literally days later he’s at your door with multiple bags full of abayas and hijabs and all sorts of modest clothing. You’re completely shick shack shook and don’t know what to say. You defo cry and try to hide it with your headscarf.

He barges into your room (after making sure you’re fully covered, he's learnt from that mistake) and spends the next 5 or so hours showcasing each item and telling you where in the world he got it from, the materials and everything.

He has really good taste in colours and styles and knows what would look good on you. You’re literally set for life. Absolutely refuses to let you pay him back. Every single time you mention money, he shuts you down and changes the topic entirely.

In summer he’s shocked you look relatively calm and okay. He’s literally boiling his bum off with a tank top (I’m laughing at imagining Gojo in a white tank top like an immigrant dad lmaoo) and you’re looking as fresh as daisies with everything covered. He asks how you're not melting and you’re waffling to him about airflow and how it’s actually quite breezy, and you’re not wearing anything underneath, so it’s fine, and he stops breathing and short circuits.

He looks at you with his eyes wide, and his sun reddened face goes a shade darker. "You’re not wearing anything underneath?" He takes it the completely wrong way, and you realise what it sounds like, and you’re both a bumbling mess.

It's the first time anyone’s ever seen Gojo that flustered.

Also some quickfire headcanons:

He genuinely thought you slept and showered with your hijab on, so he burst into your room one day and you screamed and he immediately warped somewhere else when he saw you wearing pyjamas (he didn’t see anything above your clothed knees, he panicked and left so quickly plus he was scared to look).

Gets you cute little clips to put on your hijab. He thinks they’re pretty.

Is absolutely devasted you can’t have mochi and some other desserts because they have pork gelatine in them and he always tries to find vegan alternatives.

Purposefully steps on your abaya/dress when it's flowing and he's behind you to annoy you.

Has extra pins pinned onto his uniform for you just in case you need them.

This is a secret he’ll take to his grave, but he actually tried to make you one of his favourite desserts you couldn’t eat (he threatened the bakery for the recipe), but it went so disastrously wrong he gave up and didnt want to face the embarrassment.

I’m talking melted plastic in the oven, small kitchen fire, eyebrows singed, and potential carbon monoxide poisoning bad.

You wore this specific shade of light blue once with a cream khimar, and for some reason, he was absolutely obsessed with that outfit. It wasn't until Nobara pointed out that your outfit matched Gojo's colour scheme did he finally realise why <33

The abaya sizing really confused him and he was so baffled as to what the numbers meant. Wdym size 52 what does that even measure 😭😭

He was faffing about for 2 hours before he realised he could've just googled it, and he felt absolutely stupid about it.

Whenever he sees a bit of your hair accidentally peeking out he covers his eyes and screams at you to "cover yourself woman goddammit". He's so dramatic honestly.

Thinks it’s hilarious seeing you run in your abaya. He thinks its the funniest thing in the world.

Once (he's lying defo more than once) he was zoned out while watching you and his heart started beating faster when he realised how beautiful you are with your long dress blowing in the breeze and your hijab lightly fluttering. You looked ethereal. He didn't know what to think, and he pushed his feelings back down. Deep deep down.

He doesn't need unnecessary feelings complicating things, but for some reason, his heart still yearns for you.

He also makes terrorist jokes about you to you. I will not explain that one, but he 100% does.

© ffsg0jo 2024 — do not plagiarise, repost, modify, or translate any of my work in any way, shape, or form; i will piss in your cereal if you do. all work belongs to me and me only.

[beargirlmj]

Hearts at Stake.

genre : fluff

warning(s) : none

Jiminjeong x fem!reader

Previous → part 2 .

Chapter 3:

Sitting in the park, Minjeong and Jimin watched Y/n closely. The tension in the air was palpable, and every second felt like an eternity as they waited for the response that would change their lives. Y/n took a deep breath, seemingly struggling to find the right words.

"I’ve thought a lot about what you both told me," she began, her voice soft but firm. "And I need to be honest with you because you deserve the truth."

Minjeong and Jimin exchanged anxious glances. Both their hearts were racing, bracing themselves for whatever was coming next.

"I like you both," Y/n continued, looking directly at each of them. "But what I feel is… complicated. Because I’ve realized something I didn’t expect. It’s not that I like only one of you. I... I like both of you."

The silence that followed seemed to echo through the park. Minjeong and Jimin were left speechless, unable to process what they had just heard. What Y/n was saying was completely unexpected.

Y/n went on, trying to explain her feelings better. "When you told me you were competing for me, I was so surprised. But as I thought about it, I realized my feelings for both of you are strong, and not in different ways. I’m drawn to Minjeong’s sweetness and sensitivity just as much as I am to Jimin’s confidence and energy. The problem is… I can’t choose."

Minjeong, still trying to process everything, looked at Jimin, who seemed equally confused. "So, you’re saying that… you like us both at the same time?" Minjeong asked cautiously.

Y/n nodded, appearing somewhat relieved to have finally confessed. "Yes. And I know it sounds complicated, but I can’t deny what I feel. I always thought that when the time came, it would be easier, that I’d know right away who my heart belonged to more. But the truth is, I feel complete with both of you."

Jimin, usually quick to respond, stayed silent for a moment before finally speaking. "And… what does that mean, then? Because honestly, I never saw this coming."

Minjeong also seemed uncertain. She looked at Y/n, then at Jimin, trying to grasp what this meant for their future.

Y/n sighed, her expression vulnerable. "I don’t expect you to accept this easily, or to understand right away. But before you make any decisions, I wanted to be honest about what I feel. If you don’t want to go down this path, I’ll completely understand. But if there’s any chance we could find a way to make this work, I’d like to try."

Y/n’s proposal was unexpected, and both Minjeong and Jimin knew it would be a challenge. Up until that moment, both had believed that in the end, there would be only one winner. But what if, instead of competing, they could find a balance that honored all their feelings?

Jimin, the first to recover from the shock, chuckled softly. "I’m not gonna lie, this is completely crazy. But at the same time… I don’t want to lose either of you. Minjeong, you’re my best friend, and Y/n, you’re so special to me. Maybe… maybe we can figure this out together?"

Minjeong looked at Jimin, surprised by her response. Part of her still felt unsure, but seeing Jimin so open to the possibility made her think. She looked at Y/n, seeing the genuine sincerity in her eyes, then back at Jimin.

"It’s crazy, yeah," Minjeong finally admitted, smiling. "But… I don’t want to lose anyone either. If you two are willing to try, I think I can try too."

Y/n smiled, clearly relieved. "It’s not going to be easy. I know this is new for all of us, and we’re going to need a lot of patience and communication. But if we can find a way, I think we can be really happy together."

And so, what seemed like a simple competition transformed into an unexpected and unique relationship. Minjeong, Jimin, and Y/n decided to move forward, unsure of what the future held but confident that together, they could overcome any challenge. What started as a rivalry for Y/n’s heart had evolved into something much more complex but also more beautiful: a deep connection between three people who decided, against all odds, to create something new and special.

The weeks that followed were a period of adjustment and learning. There were moments of insecurity and doubt, but over time, the three learned to communicate better, to respect each other’s feelings, and above all, to value the unique connection they shared.

Minjeong and Jimin, despite starting as rivals, found a new way to relate to each other. They realized that instead of competing, they could support and appreciate the differences each brought to the relationship. And Y/n, at the center of this dynamic, felt grateful to have two incredible people by her side, both willing to try something as unexpected as the love they shared.

By the end of that summer, they knew they didn’t have all the answers, and the road ahead would be full of challenges. But for the first time, they were willing to walk it together, embracing the uncertainties and trusting what they felt. After all, love, in all its forms, can be complicated, but it’s also capable of creating deep and unexpected connections—like the one Minjeong, Jimin, and Y/n had found.