#messed up love triangles: the show

[holocrone]

SEVERANCE 2.06 | Attila

[rosevilles]

i mean obviously gemma's great but i don't know why i should root for her and mark when his love for her is like. the one time we've seen love Not transcend severance. like outie!mark is flirting with helena in a diner while innie!mark laughs off the idea of him and gemma being intimate right before having sex with another woman again. if i was gemma i would not be interested in resuming any kind of relationship with him tbh.

You're reducing the show and Gemma to a relationship which is completely not the point of the show or the episode

[yuri-is-online]

I hate Thoma from Tokyo debunker

Don't know why but I just hate him not as much as I hate leo but you get it and I needed to get it off my chest

That's it

Thank you for reading my bullshit

Unfortunately, I am in love with him TᴖT I want him so bad it is unfunny, pathetic even. He would laugh, degrade me, and I would fall further because I find that hot for reasons I might want to bring up with my therapist.

I have mentioned I think Tohma might have someone outside of Darkwick he is trying to work towards a better world for. I like to think it's a sibling, maybe a younger sister because I have been reading Tokyo Revengers again- idk I just know he's got some softness in there. He likes taking walks in nature and that's the one thing we know about him. I want to give him flowers-

I am so sorry anon please forgive me for simping

[fortune-maiden]

Random TGCF Idea of the Day

The Cyrano AU returneth but make it three tumors

Or cut Cyrano entirely and just regular good old matchmaking

After Shi Wudu (unintentionally) gets pre-ascension Ling Wen humiliated at the essay contest, he can’t stop thinking about her. Partly because he feels a little bad about what happened (not that it’s his fault (it’s Jing Wen’s) and not that he’ll apologize for his part, but he at least wants her to know someone is in her corner) but also because he thinks he’s finally found someone else worth befriending in the heavens

Unfortunately for him, the other person he’s friends with is Pei Ming who immediately clocks SWD’s interest in Ling Wen as a crush and it is his sworn duty as both the god of love and a friend (read: he’s bored) to support his new bestie in all romantic endeavors! (Plus he’s also somewhat friendly with Ling Wen though not really friends yet, and also thinks she could use someone in her corner)

And of course once SQX learns that his brother has a crush on someone…

[moonlightdreamzz]

somewhere between yours, and his

chapter one — what we don’t talk about. | chapter two — half-truths and jungle juice

summary. you and jungwon are just best friends. housemates. you know, the kind who kiss when no one’s looking. the kind who sleep too close and never talk about it. the kind who swear it’s nothing, even when it’s everything.

then jake’s cousin sunghoon shows up—quiet, sharp, a little too pretty, and acting like he’s above it all. he’s only supposed to be visiting. just passing through. but he stays. and he watches you. and he starts saying things no one else dares to say.

jungwon’s the one who’s always been there. sunghoon’s the one who makes your skin burn. you’re stuck in the middle of something that isn’t quite love—but it’s not not love, either. it’s messy. it’s reckless. it’s kind of a problem. but it might also be the best kind of trouble you’ve ever been in.

pairing. jungwon x reader x sunghoon.

genre. college!au, angst, fluff, slow burn, smut.

themes. love triangle, messy relationships and decisions, love or lust?

authors note. really hope you all enjoy this. i love a good love triangle with a complex plot—nothing hits harder than wanting two people for completely different reasons. this one’s close to my heart, so buckle up. it’s soft, it’s messy, and nobody’s playing fair.

the morning smells like cinnamon, overcooked eggs, and the same damn candle jake always insists on lighting when girls are coming over—vanilla something. you hate it, but you never blow it out.

light filters through the living room windows in wide, lazy rectangles, catching on dust in the air like static. it’s a thursday that feels like a sunday. slow. syrupy. too warm inside, too cold outside.

you’re sitting on the kitchen counter in shorts and someone else’s hoodie. you’re not sure if it’s jake’s or jay’s or jungwon’s, but it’s oversized and smells like detergent and boy, so you keep it. bare legs swinging. phone in your hand. not texting anyone back.

there’s music playing—lofi, soft and beatless—because jungwon hates silence in the mornings.

he’s in the kitchen with you, halfway through scrambling eggs he’s already messed up once. tongue pressed to the inside of his cheek like he’s solving a puzzle harder than breakfast. his sleeves are pushed up. hair still messy from sleep. he hasn’t shaved.

his voice is hoarse when he says, “you could help, you know.”

you look up from your phone. blink at him, bored. “i could. but i like watching you struggle.”

he cuts you a look, quick and half-smiling. he always does that when you flirt with him like it doesn’t mean anything. you do it more than you admit.

“you’re the worst,” he mutters, but he’s smiling for real now. you see the dimples.

“and you love me.”

he doesn’t answer. just hands you the first plate and turns back to the stove.

jungwon and you have this… thing. it isn’t a thing. but it is.

you’re best friends. but not like “haha we’re besties” best friends. more like i-know-how-you-like-your-toast, i-know-what-time-you-cried-last-week, i-know-you-well-enough-to-sit-in-your-silence best friends. you have history, but not the kind you tell people about. not the kind you even tell each other about.

just moments. stacks of them. sleepovers that turn into shared beds. movie nights that end with you curled into his chest pretending not to feel the way he stiffens when your hips shift.

he never pulls away. he also never makes a move.

you bring the plate to the couch, plop down cross-legged. he follows, and sits beside you, thigh to thigh— remote in hand like always, already queuing up something silly on youtube.

“why do we watch food vlogs while we eat food?” you ask.

“motivation.”

“you’re literally eating.”

“doesn’t mean i’m not planning my next meal.”

his knee bumps yours and doesn’t move. you’re not paying attention to the screen. you’re watching his hands.

he doesn’t wear rings like jake or bracelets like jay. just clean wrists, long fingers, callused in the places his engineering tools left behind.

you like his hands too much.

breakfast turns into scrolling. scrolling turns into dozing. you’re not sure who falls asleep first, but when you open your eyes, you’re leaning into him, his head tilted against yours. breathing even. he’s warm. always so warm.

you don’t move. just stay there, eyes half open, watching the soft rise of his chest beneath his crewneck. watching the light move across the floor.

his arm shifts. wraps around you. not tight. just enough. like habit.

like he forgets he’s not supposed to do that.

you stretch. slowly. limbs falling away from jungwon’s like you weren’t just nestled against his heartbeat. like you haven’t had his mouth on yours before.

not that it means anything. just drunk. just heat and music and mouths moving too close.

just that one night in jake’s room after everyone else passed out—when you ended up on top of him, grinding slow to whatever song is playing. his hands stayed on your waist. yours in his hair. his breath breaking when you moaned into his neck like it’s nothing.

or that second night in the hallway, when he kissed you so hard you almost fell over—half-dressed, giggling—until he pulled away too fast and said,

“we should stop.”

so you stop. you never tell anyone. he never brings it up. but it lingers like a bruise you keep pressing.

you blink hard, shake the memory off, and look over at jungwon. his hand rests against his stomach, head tipped back on the couch. his eyes meet yours. soft. unreadable.

the front door opened. you heard it before you saw it.

then a voice,

“yo.” it’s jake.

“couch potatoes,” jake called from the kitchen. “my cousin’s coming soon.”

jungwon grunted. “huh?”

“sunghoon. remember? i told y’all. he’s visiting for a few days. thinking about transferring.”

“oh. yeah.”

jungwon sits up. rubs his eyes with the heel of his palm like he didn’t just almost hold you all the way to sleep. he sees what you’re wearing. the hoodie. oversized and too familiar. not his.

“you should change,” he says.

you raise a brow. “why?”

“you’re wearing jay’s.”

you smirk. “jealous?”

“just saying.”

but there it is. the flicker in his eyes. that flash of memory neither of you ever name.

you pull the hoodie tighter around you anyway.

that moment hums in the space between you. like an unanswered question. like something half-written.

jake walks into the living room like he owns the place. (which he kind of does—his name’s not on the lease, but somehow he always has the aux and the fridge key.)

he’s barefoot, eating dry cereal out the box. he glances at you on the couch, then at jungwon, who’s now pretending he wasn’t just emotionally undressing you with his eyes.

“so listen,” jake starts, crunching mid-sentence, “y’all know that party at gamma tonight?”

you raise an eyebrow. jungwon grunts like yeah.

jake waves it off. “yeah, well, i’m thinking we skip it. bring the party here. you feel me?”

you blink. “wait, what?”

he shrugs, like it’s nothing. “just for the vibe. for sunghoon. bro’s swearing we’re lame over here. like we don’t got it. like this whole school’s boring as hell.”

“so you wanna throw a whole function just to prove a point?” you ask.

jake points at you with a finger full of cereal. “exactly.”

you glance at jungwon. he shrugs like he’s indifferent, but he’s already pulling out his phone to text jay.

“i mean,” jake continues, flopping down into the armchair like he’s pitching a business plan, “we’re already here. it’s our house. no one’s gotta worry about getting home drunk. and he’ll get the vibe. and maybe finally shut up about how ‘lit’ the city is compared to this place.”

“what city is he even from?” you ask.

“malibu, by way of seoul. but, like, the rich part,” jake says, making a face. “he thinks he’s better than everybody.”

“is he?” jungwon mumbles.

jake throws a cushion at him. you dodge it instead.

“nah, he’s cool,” jake says after a beat, “he’s just got that face, you know? the kind you wanna punch even when he’s being nice.”

you snort. “sounds promising.”

“don’t worry. you’ll love him.” jake grins at you. you do not return it.

jungwon taps something into his phone. “jay says he’s down. sunoo too.”

you sigh. “so it’s really happening.”

“oh, it’s happening,” jake says, standing up and already heading toward the bluetooth speaker like a man with a mission. “by the weekend, this house is gonna remind sunghoon exactly why we don’t need to transfer anywhere.”

he disappears down the hall, yelling something about liquor and chips.

you and jungwon sit in silence for a second, and the air changes.

he stretches his arm behind the couch, eyes on the ceiling. “you gonna get cute for him?”

you look at him sideways. “who?”

he doesn’t look at you. just shrugs, like the question was nothing. “the rich cousin.”

you smirk. lean back against the cushion, letting your bare leg press against his jeans. “you want me to?”

he doesn’t answer. but he doesn’t move away either.

the silence stretches.

not awkward. not yet. but thick—like you’ve both just remembered something you’re supposed to forget.

the tv’s still on, playing some random food vlog neither of you are watching. your leg stays pressed to his, warm through the denim. his hand is right there. resting on the couch cushion between you, fingers curled slightly like he’s about to move but doesn’t.

you glance down at it. then at him. his jaw is tight. his eyes are still on the ceiling like he’s trying not to look at you. you slide your fingers across the space. slow. just enough to brush his. and when you feel his pinky twitch against yours—you don’t stop.

your hand finds his. you don’t hold it, not really. just… let your fingers tangle halfway. and he lets them.

his breath hitches, barely audible.

you look at him. he’s already looking at you. eyes low. soft. like he’s scared to blink.

you both lean in at the same time.

no one speaks. your nose brushes his. your fingers tighten just a little. his lips part—just enough. your eyes flick to his mouth.

and that’s when it happens.

his phone rings.

it’s loud in the silence. ugly and immediate. the default ringtone, buzzing across the table like it’s mad.

jungwon jolts back like he got burned. you both jump a little, breath caught mid-moment. he pulls his hand away fast, clearing his throat like it helps.

“…it’s jay,” he mumbles, already grabbing his phone.

you sit back slow, trying to look chill while your heart hammers against your ribs.

he answers.

“yo… yeah, we’re here. no, she’s—she’s right here. yeah, we told her. yeah, it’s fine.”

you stand quietly. walk past him. don’t say a word. you head straight for your room, the door clicking shut behind you.

he watches you go, phone still pressed to his ear, heart in his throat. he doesn’t say it out loud, but it’s all over him. he wishes the phone hadn’t rung. he wishes you had kissed him. he wishes he’d let it happen.

even though you never talked about it, you still slept in his bed that night.

he didn’t say anything when you walked past your room and climbed under his covers—just lifted the blanket like he always does, turned off the light, and let you curl into his chest like nothing almost happened.

he held you all night. he didn’t try anything. he didn’t say anything, either.

but you felt him kiss your forehead when he thought you were asleep. and when he finally drifted off, you stayed awake a little longer, watching the way his fingers twitched against your arm like he was dreaming about holding you tighter.

you didn’t bring it up the next morning. neither did he.

and then last night—same thing. no talking. no explaining. just his bed and his body curved around yours like a habit that never got broken.

now it’s friday, and jake’s tearing through the house like a man possessed.

he’s blasting music from the kitchen, half-dressed, holding two bags of red solo cups and yelling about how no one’s done anything he asked.

“we literally skipped class for this,” he shouts, tossing chips onto the counter like that solves something. “the least y’all can do is act like you’ve been to a party before.”

sunoo is lighting candles in the living room like it’s a spa retreat, muttering to himself about ambiance and scent mixing.

jay in his room changing for the third time.

jungwon’s wiping down the kitchen counters, pretending like he doesn't get the best sleep of his life when it's you on his chest. like he isn't utterly in love with you. it doesn't help that you're still in his hoodie, the same one you've been sleeping in for the past two nights. all he can think about is how you’re so...beautiful, and so his. at least that's how it makes him feel when you crawl into his arms. when you wear his clothes. when you kiss his cheek in the middle of the night because you think he's sleeping. so why can't he just...go for it?

and you? you’re sitting on the edge of the armrest, sipping something pink and dangerous out of a plastic cup, watching the house shift into something new.

the lights are dimmer. the music’s louder. the vibe’s getting blurry around the edges.

that’s when you hear it— the knock at the door.

not loud. just one, then another. like he’s not here to make a scene. like he doesn’t have to.

jake practically leaps across the room to open it, and there he is.

sunghoon.

black jeans, black hoodie, black duffel slung over one shoulder like he didn’t try but somehow still looks better than everyone in the house. his expression is blank. his face is sharp. he gives jake a nod, steps inside, eyes sweeping the room.

and then he sees you.

he doesn’t smile. he just looks.

and something about it makes your skin feel too tight.

you don’t say anything. neither does he. but the shift is immediate. like the air’s not yours anymore.

he’s taller than you expected. taller than jake, even. but lean—built like someone who moves fast but never runs. he doesn’t look like someone you’re supposed to be impressed by. he looks like someone who knows you already are.

his face is sharp. every angle defined like it was drawn with a ruler and no eraser. a high nose bridge. cut jawline. straight brows that make his expression unreadable. but it’s not just the bone structure—it’s the stillness. the way he doesn’t fidget. doesn’t smile too fast. doesn’t feel the need to do anything but exist.

your eyes meet for half a second. long enough to register how clear his skin is. how cold his stare feels. you look away first.

“this is my cousin,” jake announces, slapping a hand on sunghoon’s shoulder. “sunghoon. just got here from cali. he’s here for the weekend. maybe longer, if he likes it.”

sunghoon nods. looks around, taking in the living room like he’s scanning for threats. his eyes settle on you again.

“yo,” he says, voice low and casual. he nods once. “you’re…?”

jake says your name at the same time you do. sunghoon’s mouth twitches like he wants to smile, but doesn’t.

“cool,” he says. “nice to meet you.”

his voice isn’t cocky. it’s calm. a little too calm. you just nod. no words. just sip your drink and look somewhere—anywhere—else.

but he keeps looking. not long. not creepy. just… like he sees something he doesn’t quite get yet. and he’s deciding whether or not he wants to.

“you good?” jake asks him, grabbing a cup off the counter.

“yeah.” sunghoon sets his bag down by the door. “just tired. this place is nice though.”

“he thought we were lame,” jake tells you, clearly offended. “texted me last week like, ‘if your school’s so fun, why’s everyone online acting depressed?’”

“i said that once,” sunghoon mutters, taking the drink jake hands him. “and i wasn’t wrong.”

“he’s a hater,” jake says, then points at you. “she’s gonna change your mind.”

you blink. “what?”

“you got main character energy,” jake grins. “you’ll bring him around.”

you scoff. “he looks like he’d hate main characters.”

sunghoon actually smiles at that. just a little. and then he says, “not always.”

jungwon watches from the kitchen, still wiping the same spot on the counter that’s already clean.

he’s not eavesdropping. not really, he just… hears everything.

the way jake’s hyping sunghoon up. the way your voice dips when you respond. the way you don’t say much, but your body shifts to face him just a little more than usual.

you’re still holding your drink. still wearing his hoodie. but it’s like you’ve already floated somewhere else.

sunghoon doesn’t say much, but that’s the part that bothers jungwon the most.

he doesn’t need to. he’s got that look—cool and unreadable, like he knows exactly how he’s being perceived. like he knows the effect he has.

and you’re not falling for it, not really, but jungwon can see it. the little spark of curiosity in your eyes. the way your lips twitch at sunghoon’s joke. the way you sip your drink slower now, like you’re giving yourself a reason to stay planted in that moment.

he presses his tongue to the inside of his cheek.

he knows he’s not allowed to feel some type of way. he had chances. too many. he never says the right thing.

but watching sunghoon look at you like he’s already picking you apart—like he’s interested and not even pretending otherwise—it makes something cold settle in his chest.

he wipes the counter again, but he doesn’t realize his grip on the cloth has tightened. fuck.

[solxamber]

𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐬𝐡 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

1. Please Let Me Live || Vil Schoenheit

You get isekai'd into the worst novel you've had the misfortune of reading because apparently your life is a cosmic joke. Now all you have to do is not act like the character you've possessed and it'll be fine, you think?

Your fiancé being Vil Schoenheit makes it a little harder to behave like a human being with functional braincells, but hey, atleast he likes you, you think?

2. Villain System vs World || Riddle Rosehearts

You have a guilty pleasure: trashy villainess stories. So when you die a frankly, humiliating death, and end up in one of the worst ones you've had the pleasure of reading as the villainess, you're in denial. Then the villain system shows up. Well, there goes your second chance at life So what do you do now? Do villainous things and cause as much chaos as you can, of course. And maybe, just maybe, bag the male lead, Riddle Rosehearts while you're at it.

3. I'd Rather Date the Male Lead's Dad || Lilia Vanrouge

When you end up in your best friend's favourite but absurd novel about breaking a fae prince's curse as the heroine, you didn't expect to get attached to his little family too. Even more unexpected? You fell for the male lead's dad, but hey it looks like he likes you too.

4. Accidentally Falling for a Fae Prince || Malleus Draconia

When you get dragged into a novel which ends with the heroine in a polycule with the most annoying men in literature, as the heroine herself, you decide that you're gonna skip town. ...Only to trip over the fae prince, Malleus Draconia.

5. Not Another Royal Mess || Azul Ashengrotto

As a proofreader who gets isekai’d into a cringeworthy novel as the villainess, you decide to take revenge on the heroine and male lead for their awful story. With Azul—who just wanted to sell you a magic rock—pulled into your chaos.

6. Love Triangles and Royal Rumbles || Leona Kingscholar

When you get isekai'd as the male lead in the novel where your favorite character, Leona Kingscholar is the second male lead, all that's left to do is rewrite the romance!

7. I Want To Retire! || Idia Shroud

You write a novel that reads like a dumpster fire and while trying to delete the draft, you accidentally get isekai’d into it.

Now, as the villainess, you have to get Idia Shroud on your side as well as survive high society. You have your work cut out for you.

8. Stealing the Plot for Drama || Jamil Viper

The book you've been looking forward to turns out to be a piece of crap, and you have the bad luck of getting pulled into it as the villainess.

So you decide to steal the main character's show, just for sport with the help of your fiancé, Jamil Viper.

9. Falling for the Sun in a Cold Empire || Kalim Al-Asim

You lose everything you've worked for after a freak accident and end up getting transported to the novel that you read when you were a teenager.

As the villainess. It's time to rebuild yourself, one step at a time with a little help from Kalim Al-Asim, your betrothed.

10. My Consort Calls Me Shrimpy || Floyd Leech

You get isekai'd into a novel where the perfect Empress got absolutely wrecked by the plot, and now you have to juggle a bland heroine, 15 weird consorts, a traitor and a delightfully unhinged eel who’s oddly good at solving your problems.

11. Get Me Out of Here || Rook Hunt

You’re isekai’d into a trashy novel and stuck as a tragic side knight character. All you want is survival, but your boss is Rook Hunt—a poetic, eccentric duke.

Now you’re caught in his chaos and, worse, you kinda don’t mind.

12. How to Ruin a Plot || Jade Leech

When you end up as the villainess in a story that's hellbent on making her suffer for no reason, you decide to make the main characters suffer just for catharsis. Good thing that your fiancé, Jade Leech seems to like chaos as much as you.

13. I Want a Refund || Trey Clover

When the universe dunks you into a dumpster fire of a novel as the villainess, survival is key. Except your husband, Trey Clover, turns out to be such a green flag that it gets a little harder to function.

14. I Don't Want the Heroine || Ruggie Bucchi

You get isekai’d into what could only be described as an affront to literature, as the second male lead. So you decide to cut all ties with the heroine and live a peaceful (wealthy) life with your secretary, Ruggie Bucchi. Except life doesn't go as planned as you get more chaos than you signed up for.

15. My Knight is Too Loyal || Sebek Zigvolt

You wake up as the villainess in a novel that had to be written as a joke. The heroine is trying to ruin your life, but if you refuse to acknowledge her, then it’s not happening. Right? …Right??

It doesn't help that your knight, Sebek, is annoyingly endearing.

16. How to Escape a Kingdom || Silver

You get isekai’d as the heroine in a bad novel. The prince is awful. The villainess is worse. The only thing keeping you going is your gorgeous, tired fiancé, Silver.

17. Speedrunning Marriage Fraud || Ace Trappola

You get isekai’d as the heroine in a romance novel, but instead of dreamy suitors, you’re stuck with a yandere cryptid, a billionaire with no impulse control, and a knight who thinks he's in a Shakespearean tragedy (and more).

Your solution? Commit marriage fraud with your best friend, Ace Trappola, and hope no one asks for a marriage certificate.

18. Gaslight, Gatekeep, Get Married || Deuce Spade

You get isekai’d into a garbage novel as the villain, so you take it as a sign that morality is optional now. So, you do what any reasonable person would: you set the world on fire (metaphorically… mostly) and somehow bag your knight, Deuce Spade in the process.

Masterlist

[pukefactory]

(Absolutely don’t do this if you aren’t comfortable) ENA (Dream bbq) getting drunk with reader?

•☽────✧˖°˖ FIZZY VALLEY ˖°˖✧────☾•

★ Summary: A Compilation of Headcannons Featuring Drunk Salesperson Ena X Reader

★ Character(s): Salesperson Ena (Ena: Dream BBQ)

★ Genre: Headcanons, SFW

★ Warning(s): Mentions And Descriptions Of Alcohol

★ Image Credits: @JoelG

☆ You should’ve known something was off when Ena invited you to what she called “a high-stakes engagement strategy brainstorm over beverages.” You were picturing coffee. Not tequila. Not her slamming two shot glasses on the bar and declaring, “Let’s reframe the concept of reality, darling.” She drinks like it’s a performance review—firm eye contact, exaggerated praise, and PowerPoint levels of misplaced confidence.

☆ Once Ena’s a few drinks in, her Salesperson side becomes so aggressively charming it’s like being smothered in coupon codes. “If you subscribe to this partnership now, I’ll offer you unlimited emotional support and complimentary hand-holding,” she hums, voice like cherry soda and half-suppressed giggles. You try to hide your flustered expression. She sees it. She logs it as “high conversion potential.”

☆ Her Meanie side doesn’t come out often at first—until she tries to order fries, but the kitchen’s closed. Suddenly she’s slamming her forehead on the bar, sobbing, “I AM THE TRAGIC EMBODIMENT OF CORPORATE WASTE—WHERE’S MY SALTED PRODUCTIVITY?!” You offer her a peanut. She throws the bowl at a breathing taxidermy moose.

☆ “Here’s your performance feedback,” she slurs, twirling a swizzle stick like a laser pointer, “You’re hot. You show initiative. You opened a door for me once. I will die for you.” You tell her that’s not how feedback works. She pulls out a clipboard from her suspenders and tries to make you sign a form titled “Love Contract (Beta).”

☆ She draws gimmicks on napkins. Terrible ones. Drunk ideas like “emotionally sentient office chairs” and “a pyramid scheme where everyone sells little hats.” You try to say “maybe we shouldn’t do this.” She claps a hand on your back like a frat bro and shouts, “WRONG ATTITUDE, PARTNER. THINK BIGGER.” Then she draws a diagram that’s just the word “VIBES” in a circle.

☆ She stares at you for a full minute, eyes glassy, voice flat: “Are you in the mood for shared assets and mutual annihilation, or should I put on my mask again and pretend not to like you?” You blink. She blinks. Her red side winks. You are either about to get kissed or yelled at. Or both. Probably both.

☆ The bar has one of those ancient karaoke machines. She picks a glitchy jazz remix of the Windows 95 startup sound. Halfway through she forgets the words (there are no words) and starts yelling improvised business jargon in rhythm. “Synergize my dividends, baby! Let’s OUTSOURCE THE PAIN!” Someone in the back cheers. You cry.

☆ Her Salesperson side leans over the counter, cheeks flushed, voice soft and too sincere: “Do you think people like me more when I smile? I’ve been smiling all night. It hurts now. But I—I want to be liked. I want you to like me. For me. Even if I mess up the pitch.” And her Meanie side chimes in: “GØD, I hate being real.”

☆ You’re not sure what triggered it—maybe someone said “quarterly”—but suddenly she’s sobbing into your shoulder like a malfunctioning LinkedIn ad. “I DIDN’T ASK TO BE A PRODUCT OF CAPITALISM! I just wanted to sell fruit. Or stickers! Or happiness! But now I’m selling ME!” You rub her back. She hiccups and asks if you’d still like her if she was “just a weird triangle girl with debt.”

☆ The bar’s quiet now. Her hat’s fallen off. You’re holding her upright and she’s murmuring nonsense like, “Let’s invest in each other’s feelings… diversify the pain into smaller dividends… I’ll build a company out of your laugh…” Then, barely audible: “You’re my best client. Don’t ever unsubscribe.” You smile. You don’t say anything. You just let her rest.

[vibelladonna]

✑ 𝒿𝑒𝓁𝓁𝓎 𝜗𝜚 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒸𝒽𝑜𝒾𝒸𝑒! 𝓈𝑜𝓁 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝑔𝑒𝑜

𝓈𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: Oh boy… the two most possessive men in the whole damn game? Jealous!Sol & Jealous!Geo x Reader? Buckle up because this isn’t just a love triangle—it’s a full-on battlefield.

However, can't blame you for just messing around, testing the waters, seeing who got more jealous… and playing with fire gets you burned. You’re stuck in the middle, questioning every life choice that led you here.  

What could possibly go wrong? (Spoiler: everything.)

𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔: 18+ NO KIDS (Adults Only) This content contains mature themes unsuitable for children. Please respect the creator's intentions. 

𝓇𝑒𝓆𝓊𝑒𝓈𝓉: Anonymous! if you don't mind writing it, but jealous geo and sol, please??😭 Like they both like readers and are just silently jealous of one another? I am in desperate need of more fics of them interacting 🤧

Honestly, apologies in advance—I don’t sugarcoat things. A lot of my writing is rooted in realism and what I’m comfortable exploring. Soooo, if you were hoping for a lighthearted take… no chance.

[ 𝓂𝒶𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉 ]

Jelly.

By definition, jelly is something sweet. A glossy, semisolid spread made from fruit juice and sugar, boiled to a thick consistency. Some people like sweets. Some don’t. But jelly can also mean jealousy. That gnawing feeling of wanting something—someone—that belongs to someone else.

And in this case? That something was you.

Not a thing, not an object, but damn if it didn’t feel like you were the prize in some unspoken battle. A war waged in subtle glances, clenched fists, and an underlying tension so thick it could choke the air out of a room.

And the worst part? You never asked for this.

Okay, maybe you did lie—just a little. But you sure as hell didn’t expect the weight of two unreadable stares pinning you down like prey, like you were something to be fought over.

Not the way Sol’s fiery red-orange eyes would zero in whenever some random guy so much as breathed in your direction, his expression eerily blank, but his fingers twitching like he was already mapping out a murder scene in his head.

And definitely not the way Geo, with his usual I-don’t-give-a-fuck aquamarine gaze, would suddenly become conveniently absent the moment on the same random guy—only for poor bastard to show up the next day with a busted nose and now suddenly doesn’t want to talk to you anymore.

Okay, maybe you like this…

Because—let’s be real—having two tall, hot men practically fighting for your attention? Yeah… yeah, that was kinda hot. And a little pathetic. But were you about to stop them?

Absolutely not.

So far, Sol and Geo hadn’t actually thrown hands at each other yet, probably because they still wanted to stay on your good side. But whenever you were with one of them, the other just happened to be around, watching, lingering, acting like your personal shadow.

Meanwhile, some poor random guy so much as breathes in your direction, and suddenly, it’s a whole different story. If there was one thing you could count on, it was that Sol and Geo had very different ways of dealing with people who dared to show interest in you.

Sol? Oh, he didn’t just get jealous—he lived in it. Stewed in it. Let it simmer under his skin like a slow-burning fire, always one spark away from an explosion. It didn’t matter how harmless the situation was. Some poor, clueless guy so much as breathed in your direction, and suddenly, the whole atmosphere shifted.

Like earlier, when you were just trying to study in the library.

“Who was that?” Sol asked, voice eerily calm. Too calm. The kind of calm that told you he was already two seconds away from tracking the guy down.

You didn’t even look up from your notes. “Don’t know. Just some guy.” That was, of course, the wrong answer.

Sol leaned in slightly, red-orange eyes narrowing. “He called you pretty.”

You finally looked up, raising a brow. “And? I am pretty, the hell.”

He didn’t laugh. Didn’t even crack a smirk. Just drummed his fingers on the table, his gaze locked onto the exit like he was memorizing the dude’s last known location.

You had no doubt that if you gave him a name, he’d find some way to make sure the guy never spoke to you again.

Geo, on the other hand? Possessive, sure. But jealous? Not really. If anything, his reaction was less ‘Who the fuck does this guy think he is?’ and more ‘Why the hell are you entertaining this bullshit?’

Like when you went to watch him practice archery after class. You’d barely been there ten minutes before some guy strolled up, all confidence and cologne, asking for your number like Geo wasn’t literally holding a weapon in his hands. You were scared for him.

You were about to respond—probably to reject the guy, but you had been taking your sweet time with it—when a sharp thunk split the air.

The guy flinched, eyes wide as he turned to see an arrow buried into the tree right next to his head.

Geo, standing a few feet away, barely spared him a glance as he reached for another arrow. “Oops,” he said, deadpan. “Must been the wind...”

The guy was gone instantly, practically tripping over himself as he made his escape.

You turned to Geo, unimpressed. “Seriously?”

He finally looked at you, one brow raised. “What? I didn’t do anything.” Yeah. Sure.

At this point you was probably wondering, ‘Oh my, oh my, if Sol and Geo are on good terms with you, do they ever have beef like you said? Or do they just straight-up ignore each other?’

Well… kinda.

It’s less of a mutual rivalry and more of a Sol has serious, undying beef with Geo, while Geo, in true Geo fashion, just casually ignores Sol’s entire existence.

Of course, you’d never hang out with them at the same time. That would be a death wish. You like your life drama-filled but intact, thank you very much. So, you very intentionally avoid situations where they’d have to be in the same room for longer than five seconds.

You keep your time with them separate—Sol on one day, Geo on another. Sol is more of your side friend group situation, hanging out with Hyugo, doing whatever chaotic shit they get into.

Meanwhile, Geo? He’s part of your main friend group—the one you’re actually seen with most of the time, which includes Brittany, Jericho, Jess, and Daryl.

However these been some days you’ll hang out with them along, just you and whoever. And because of this, there are definitely moments where you’ve caught Sol and Geo being jealous of each other.

Like the time you mentioned hanging out with Geo over the weekend, and Sol immediately went all dark and broody, arms crossed, staring at you like you’d just told him you were getting married and moving across the country.

“You spend a lot of time with him,” he muttered, voice low.

You blinked. “Yeah? And?”

“And I don’t like it.” Well... At least he was honest.

Geo, on the other hand, had a way of casually throwing shade when he wanted to. Like when you showed up to hang out with the main group after spending time with Sol.

“Didn’t think we’d see you today,” Geo remarked, arching a brow. “Figured you were off cutting your wrist with him.” I’m sooo sorry if this offensive to anyone.

You snorted awkwardly. “We were just hanging out.”

“Mhm. Sure.” He sipped his drink, giving you the most judgmental side-eye.

At the end of the day, you could ignore their little jealousy fits, but one thing was clear—Sol definitely had beef, and Geo just enjoyed playing unbothered while lowkey stirring the pot.

Then, so let’s talk about territory.

And let’s start with Sol.

Why Sol? Oh, I don’t know—he was fucking obvious.

He wasn’t subtle, and he didn’t care to be. You’d always catch his hand slipping around your shoulders, fingers ghosting over your waist—especially when Geo or your main group of friends were around. He didn’t just exist near you; he occupied your space, like some territorial cat refusing to let anyone else so much as breathe in your direction.

His touch? Not soft. Not casual. Possessive. Like he was making a statement without saying a single damn word.

It didn’t matter where you were—hallways, lunch, walking to class—Sol made sure everyone within a ten-foot radius knew exactly where you stood. And, more importantly, where he stood.

Right. Next. To. You.

Then there was Geo. He didn’t need all that. Where Sol was all hands-on, in-your-face, look-at-me-touching-you, Geo was smooth. Subtle. Calculated. Too composed for his own good, always watching, always analyzing.

He didn’t hover. He didn’t grab. He didn’t need to.

His presence alone was enough to send the message. The way he carried himself across campus—untouchable, like the world bent around him. When it came to you, he had his own ways of making sure people knew.

For example: the damn hoodie situation.

You didn’t even ask for his hoodie, but that didn’t stop him from throwing it on your face like you barely caught it. Cold? Hoodie. Raining? Hoodie. Forgot your jacket? Guess what? Hoodie. And it wasn’t just about keeping you warm—no, no. This was branding. Because that hoodie was his. And when people saw his deep-ass purple hoodie on you, it was like a silent warning: Don’t even try it.

And let’s not pretend like Geo didn’t notice when Sol was all over you. This man has SHARP EYES. But he’d play it cool, act like he didn’t care, keep his distance. But you knew he saw it. You could feel his eyes, sharp and assessing, calculating like he was taking inventory of every single move Sol made.

Now, if Sol ever really overstepped?

Oh, Geo would totally make his move. Not in front of you, though—he was way too clever for that. He didn’t need to start a scene. He didn’t need to flex his dominance in public.

Like for example, you’d start hearing rumors. Some random dude who tried to shoot his shot with you mysteriously walking around with a black eye or a swollen nose. The whispers would be everywhere. “Who the hell messed his ass up?”

And you’d know It was Geo. Handled quietly. Efficiently. Discreetly.

And if, by chance, you happened to notice the faint bruises on Geo’s knuckles the next day? Well. That was just something you didn’t bring up. Ever.

So, again, after everything, how do you feel about being possessed over by two men?

Like, at the end of the day, you were trapped—trapped between their heated stares, their possessiveness, their absolute refusal to let you exist without them staking their claim.

And you?

Oh, you were loving it, all in honesty.

What? If they were gonna play this game, you might as well play along. Hell, you held all the cards. You were the one pulling the strings, keeping them both on their toes, watching as they silently (and not-so-silently) battled for dominance over you.

Geo wanted to act all calm and cool?

Like he was above all of this? Fine. Let him pretend. You knew exactly what buttons to push to make him show his hand. A little too much laughter when another guy paid you a compliment. Casually mentioning how Sol was so protective over you. Flashing him that innocent, knowing smile whenever he tried to act like he wasn’t watching your every move.

And Sol? Sol was easy.

If he wanted to claim you with his rough touches, his dark glares, the way his arm would tighten around your waist just a little too much whenever another guy so much as looked at you—then you’d let him. But only just enough to keep things interesting.

Because you weren’t about to make this easy for either of them.

You’d walk into the room wearing Geo’s hoodie—just to watch Sol’s jaw clench. You’d let Sol touch you in front of Geo—just to catch the way his fingers twitched, his lips pressing into a thin line. You’d let their possessiveness fuel the game, and oh, was it a fun game to play.

Because at the end of the day, again...

You were the prize. And you knew it.

And what better way to start than with Geo?

Again, Geo was the kind of guy who never had to try too hard. Everything about him exuded effortless control—his tailored clothes, his rich upbringing, the way his hair was always just right like he walked straight out of some high-end fashion editorial.

Bilingual, top of his class, a sharp mind that dissected everything in the room before anyone even realized they were being watched.

Now, you wouldn’t call him perfect, but he was definitely a step above the average man. And that, in itself, was dangerous. Because Geo wasn’t just good at handling himself. 

He was good at handling you. PFFF, I love this man.

And it was funny, really. He liked to act like he didn’t care—like he wasn’t watching your every move, like he wasn’t quietly attuned to your habits. But that was the biggest lie of all.

Geo noticed everything.

He knew when you were irritated before you even sighed. Knew you were hungry before you even glanced at the menu. Knew what to say to make you laugh, even when you swore you weren’t in the mood. He was calculated—never too distant, but never too obvious.

You knew exactly how to use Geo’s attentiveness to your advantage. He was clever, a little too clever sometimes, but that made him so much more fun to tease. So, when you casually invited him to hang out during one of your long gaps between classes—just the two of you—you made sure Sol was close enough to overhear.

You didn't even have to try hard.

Sol always seemed to be near where you were. Always.

He had this uncanny ability to be in the right spot at the right time. You'd find him lingering in the background, sometimes in doorways, sometimes leaning against walls like he was just passing by, yet always managing to stay just out of sight, barely making his presence known. The look in his eyes, though? You couldn’t miss it.

You watched as his gaze snapped to you the second you leaned in closer to Geo. His fingers twitched like he was holding back some kind of primal urge to pull you away from Geo. But he stayed still, just watching, quietly simmering with frustration.

When Geo agreed, his voice casual and smooth, "Sure, I got nothing better to do," you could almost feel the storm brewing behind you.

And you loved it.

You chose the place carefully. A small bakery, nestled just off-campus. It was cozy, and intimate, yet open enough that no one could barge in without causing a scene.

You knew Sol wouldn’t come in unless he had a reason—he wasn’t stupid, after all. It was one of those rare moments when you actually wanted some peace, to be able to enjoy your time with Geo without the constant interruption of Sol’s overbearing presence.

Geo sat across from you, his posture impeccable, legs crossed and back straight as if he was molded into the seat. His hands rested lightly on the table, fingers tapping softly, the rhythmic sound of it mingling with the soft hum of campus life around you.

Students typed away on their laptops, murmured conversations floated around you, and the occasional professor huddled in the corner grading papers. The place felt like the calm center of a storm—a comfortable space for both of you.

He looked at you, curiosity flashing in his eyes. "Why'd you pick here?" he asked, voice low, yet that sharp edge still noticeable beneath his calm facade. He propped his chin in his hand, elbow on the table, his fingers tapping idly against his cheek.

You shrugged, playing it cool. “I don’t know. The only place I can think of.”

Geo’s lips twitched then sighed, "Okay." His tone was amused, but there was an undeniable hint of intrigue there.

You both sat there for a moment, letting the tension simmer. Then, as if by instinct, Geo stood, his movements graceful and effortless. "You want anything? I'll pay" he asked, already moving toward the counter before you could even respond. See, what a man, he's paying already AND YOU DIDN'T EVEN HAVE TO ASKKK.

Minutes later, he returned, sliding your usual drink toward you—no questions asked. It was like he had memorized your preferences by heart. He placed a small plate beside it too, something extra—probably dessert, because he knew you liked sweets, and his attention to detail was uncanny.

You reached for it, your fingers brushing his in the process. It wasn’t intentional, but that fleeting touch sent a ripple through you. For a moment, neither of you pulled away. 

Geo’s gaze flickered to your hand again, sharp and perceptive.

"Your hand," he murmured softly, his voice taking on that subtle edge of concern. His eyes dropped to the small scrape, and for a second, you felt like it was more than just a casual observation—like he was searching for something beneath the surface.

You blinked, unsure how to respond. "You can see that?"

You had almost forgotten about the scrape, honestly. It had happened the day before when you’d tripped going up the stairs—nothing serious, just a small misstep as you were rushing between classes. You remembered cursing under your breath as you caught yourself on the railing, but the scrape was just a small inconvenience, easily forgotten in the chaos of your day.

Geo didn’t answer immediately. His fingers reached out, slow and measured, brushing across the skin of your palm where the scrape had left a thin red line. His touch was light at first, just skimming over the wound, but then it became more deliberate, more intentional as if he was examining it for signs you couldn’t even see.

His fingers tilted your hand gently, his touch soft but firm, the warmth of his skin sending a shiver up your arm. The way he lingered, taking his time to inspect the scrape, felt almost… protective.

It wasn’t just the act of touching you—it was the focus, the way he seemed to memorize the small details, the way your skin felt against his. Holy shit.

"What happened?" He asked. Then, when his eyes lifted to meet yours again, the intensity in his gaze made your heart skip a beat. There was something more than concern there—something deeper, something soft that you couldn’t quite place.

"Why are you looking at me like that? The fuck," he asked his face now in disbelief, voice very much audible. His tone was almost conversational, but there was an edge to it, an unspoken command.

It was your face. And I MEAN YOUR FACE, eyes were shocked, and lips were barely open, still showing teeth. You hesitated for a moment, caught off guard by the question. For some reason, you felt like you were being tested—like he wasn’t just asking about the scrape, but about you.

"It's nothing." You said, looking away, rather annoyed. Like damn, he always messes up moments like this. "To answer your question, I tripped going up the stairs yesterday," you said, your voice soft, trying to make it sound casual. "Nothing serious. I just lost my balance, and scraped my hand a little on the railing."

Geo didn’t respond right away. He just continued to watch you with that unreadable look in his eyes, like he was trying to figure out something you hadn’t said. His thumb brushed lightly over your knuckles again, slow and deliberate, and you felt the heat of his touch linger long after he pulled his hand away.

“I’m fine, really,” you murmured, trying to brush it off, but the way he held your gaze made it feel like there was more to this—more to him—than just a simple question about a scrape.

“Okay, if you say so,” he said, his voice low, his thumb lingering a moment longer as though he was reluctant to let go. The space between you seemed to shrink with every passing second, and you felt an undeniable pull, a magnetism that you weren’t sure you could escape. 

And as he finally pulled back, letting your hand slip from his, you couldn’t help but feel that odd, electric tension still hanging in the air. If your heart skipped a beat at the lingering warmth from Geo’s touch, well… that was between you and him. 

The next day, you were sitting next to Sol, his usual spot on the college roof where he always claimed the corner near the ledge, as his friend Hyugo went to town on the packed lunch Sol had made for him. 

You could feel the tension in the air, thick and suffocating. Sol was pissed—furious, to be exact—but he wasn’t going to tell you that. Not directly. Oh no, that wasn’t his style. He wouldn’t admit to stalking you hanging out with Geo, not even in the vaguest sense. So, you had to work for it.

You hadn’t even taken a full bite of your food before Sol was already speaking. "You made lunch today?" he asked, his voice far too casual. But you could hear the undercurrent of something. Was it jealousy? Possessiveness?

You paused, spoon halfway to your mouth, and gave him a look so casually, "No, Geo made it for me," you answered nonchalantly, barely glancing at him.

That stopped Sol cold. You saw his grip on his water bottle tighten, his expression faltering for just a moment. 

Hyugo, who had been enthusiastically chewing his food, even slowed down to glance at the both of you, like 'bitch what?'. "My little brother??" He blinked, the surprise in his voice unmistakable.

"Yeah," you said with a shrug, pushing your hair back out of your face. "We went out to a bakery yesterday. We had leftovers, so Geo made this for me and added his own cooking. Claim he had too much but I know he's lying,"

You made a show of taking a bite of that food, GEO's FOOD. Trying to act casual, but you could tell Sol was barely holding it together. His face remained unreadable, but you could practically feel the simmering irritation in the air.

"H-Have fun?" Sol’s voice suddenly went tight—too tight. You could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his gaze flickered between you and Hyugo as if he were struggling to hold back something.

You grinned, knowing exactly what was happening. "Yup."

Sol’s grip on his water bottle tightened even more, the plastic creaking under his fingers. "Really?" His voice was lower now, tinged with something darker. The possessiveness was unmistakable.

You leaned back slightly, savoring the moment. "Mhm. Geo’s actually pretty great company, you know."

And that was it. That was the exact moment you saw something snap in Sol’s expression. His jaw tightened, muscles twitching with barely contained rage. His gaze darkened to something dangerous, something you didn’t quite recognize but felt all the way down your spine. His hand, which had been resting on the ledge beside you, clenched into a fist, almost as if he were physically fighting the urge to pull you closer.

You could practically feel the heat radiating off him, the raw jealousy simmering beneath his calm exterior. 

Next was Sol, of course.

You see, Sol was on the opposite end of the spectrum in terms of lifestyle compared to Geo. Dyed hair, dark clothes, the entire emo aesthetic. But damn, despite all that edge, Sol never failed to make your jaw drop with the simplest actions. 

The way he carried himself, that intense gaze, the way his presence seemed to swallow the air around him. He was a walking contradiction—grungy yet perfectly composed, dangerous yet captivating.

You watched him for a moment, letting the silence stretch between you. Then, leaning slightly toward him, you tilted your head, voice light as you broke the tension. "So, Sol... what are you doing tonight?"

He glanced at you quickly, but then his eyes slid back toward the ground, pretending to be nonchalant. "Nothing, why?" His voice was cool, but you could tell he was listening, waiting for your next words with that quiet intensity of his.

"How about we do something together?" you asked casually, making sure to catch his gaze, letting him know this wasn’t just an idle suggestion. "A little... escape from the usual?" For a split second, you saw the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes—he wasn’t sure if he should be pissed or if he was genuinely interested. 

You leaned in a little closer, watching his every move, waiting for the shift. "Maybe the arcade? Or the rooftop bar downtown?" you continued, a playful grin tugging at your lips as you named the places that were always ‘off-limits’ in some way—places where neither Geo nor any of his calculated controlled habits would be there to shadow you. 

You could feel Sol’s pulse race, his curiosity piqued, but you both knew he wasn’t going to admit it.

His lips pressed into a thin line, and for a moment, he didn’t speak. You waited, knowing Sol was contemplating the idea with that unreadable look on his face. Then, with a slight shift in posture, he leaned back, crossing his arms. "Why not both?" he finally said, his voice low and laced with that underlying tension.

You couldn’t help but smirk, a triumphant little rush sweeping over you. "Thought you’d say that."

He tilted his head at you, a challenging gleam in his eyes. "You’re lucky I’m in the mood for it."

But you knew the truth: he wasn’t just in the mood for it. Sol was making this choice for a reason. He was staking his claim, showing you exactly what you meant to him, even if he wasn’t saying it outright.

"Let’s go then," you said, pushing up from the ledge and grabbing your bag. "I’ll drive."

You and Sol ended up at the arcade bar, the dim lighting, neon signs, and the sounds of games and laughter buzzing in the background. The place was filled with the usual mix of drunk college kids, rowdy groups playing shooting games, and couples lost in the flashing lights. The air smelled faintly of beer and popcorn, and the low hum of music blended with the clinking and clattering of game machines. 

You walked up to the claw game, your eyes immediately spotting a small plush sitting just out of reach, nestled between other stuffed animals. A mischievous grin tugged at your lips as you studied the claw’s movement. 

"Can you get it for me, Sol?" you asked innocently, but there was a hint of playful challenge in your tone. 

Sol raised an eyebrow at you, his lips twitching into that familiar, knowing smirk. "I’m not your personal claw machine expert, you know."

"Oh, come on. You’re good with your hands, aren’t you?" you teased, turning your head to meet his gaze, making sure he saw the way your fingers twitched at the machine's controls.

Sol didn’t reply right away, just watching you, a flicker of amusement in his dark eyes. His gaze followed your every move, always studying you like you were some kind of puzzle he couldn’t quite crack. You didn’t expect him to move just yet, though—because you had a plan. 

The claw machine was already set up for failure in your favor. You purposefully timed your moves to keep missing the plush, missing the claw’s target by mere inches each time. It was an art at this point, a silent dance between you and the machine. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught Sol stepping up behind you. The warmth of his body pressed against yours for just a moment, the heat of him radiating even through the buzz of the arcade. His breath was warm against your ear, and you could feel his chest rise and fall just behind you as he watched, his body too close for comfort, too close to be innocent.

“You’re missing the timing," Sol’s voice was low, almost a growl, as he leaned down just enough for his nose to brush against the side of your hair. You could feel the weight of his presence behind you, feel the way his hands hovered just above yours, ready to step in if you let him. "You need to wait for the claw to line up perfectly before you move it. Let it hang for a second longer."

You shivered slightly, the sound of his voice in your ear making something inside you stir. The combination of his closeness and the tension from the game made your heart race, your hand still hovering over the joystick.

"Show me," you murmured, your voice a little more breathless than you intended, the excitement of the moment taking over.

Sol didn’t hesitate. His hand brushed over yours, his long fingers wrapping around your wrist as he guided your movements, his body pressing further into yours. The subtle brush of his chest against your back made your breath hitch in your throat.

He adjusted your grip on the joystick, his fingers briefly brushing your skin as he gently moved your hand to line up the claw with the black cat. His breath, warm and steady, ghosted against your ear as he spoke again, a soft command mixed with a hint of amusement. "Now, wait for it…"

You could feel his heart beating against your back, a steady rhythm that matched the growing tension in your chest. His thumb brushed over your wrist lightly as you waited, the seconds dragging on forever.

And then, in a move so precise, you almost didn’t see it, the claw dipped down, catching the plush perfectly. You both watched in silence as it rose, bringing the plush toy closer and closer and finally dropping it into the prize chute. "Got it," you said, the words almost a whisper but filled with a triumphant smile. 

Sol stepped back, his body leaving a sudden chill in the space where he’d just been pressed against you. You turned to face him, only to see the satisfied, yet somehow unreadable expression on his face.

He didn’t say anything at first, just watched you as you picked up the plush, holding it in your hands like it was some kind of prize—not just the one you won from the claw game.

"You’re welcome," Sol muttered under his breath, but the way his gaze lingered on you, the way his lips barely twitched into something close to a smirk, told you everything you needed to know.

The next day, after classes, you found yourself lounging in the usual spot outside the campus café, the one with the low-sunk benches and worn-out cushions, perfect for chilling when the afternoon sun warmed everything just right.

Crowe and Geo were the only ones free—everyone else was busy with their own afternoon classes, leaving the three of you with some time to kill. 

You’d already had your morning classes earlier, just like Crowe and Geo, getting the heavy lifting out of the way so you could enjoy the rest of the day without the looming shadow of assignments or exams. It was quiet, just the hum of conversations from other students and the occasional passing car. 

Crowe casually leaned back in his seat, fiddling with his phone, but then his gaze landed on the plush you had won at the arcade bar last night. The small plush sat beside you, nestled in your arms. It was barely noticeable unless you were paying attention, but Crowe definitely noticed.

"You went to the arcade bar last night, huh?" he remarked casually, lifting an eyebrow as his eyes flicked over to the plush. "Looks like you had fun. You win that?" He pointed to the black cat in your lap, a teasing smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

You smirked, leaning back against the seat as you shrugged. "Yeah, had a pretty good time." You could almost feel Crowe’s curiosity growing, but you didn’t give him too much to work with. You weren’t sure if you were ready to delve into the details of your night just yet.

But before you could say anything else, Geo, who’d been unusually quiet up until now, spoke up, his tone casual yet probing. "Did you go with Brittany?" he asked, his gaze flickering briefly toward you as he leaned forward slightly.

You tilted your head, giving him a sideways glance. "No," you replied with a small, knowing smile. "I went with Sol."

Crowe’s eyes widened slightly at that, his interest piqued. "Sol?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "The guy you partner up with in your art gen ed?"

You nodded, glancing at Geo from the corner of your eye. "Yeah. That's him."

For a moment, the conversation seemed to stall. Geo’s expression didn’t change, but you could feel his energy shift slightly, the subtle tension in the air thickening. His eyes remained cool, distant, like always—but there was something just beneath the surface. A flicker. A brief crack in his calm, and then it was gone, leaving you wondering if you’d imagined it. 

Crowe, however, seemed much more openly intrigued. "Didn't know you two hung out like that," he said, still grinning. "Interesting."

You met Geo's eyes again, but this time, he was looking at the table, fingers tapping lightly against his cup. His face was as unreadable as ever, but the way he had asked about Brittany—so focused, so sharp—left you with a sense of unease. It was subtle, but there.

You couldn’t help but watch him for a beat longer than necessary, but Geo’s cool demeanor didn’t crack. If he was feeling anything, he wasn’t showing it.

"Yeah," you said again, your voice quieter now as you let the weight of your words sink in. "Sol’s... something."

Crowe raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. "Something, huh?" He leaned in a little closer, his playful teasing tone back. "Sounds like you're keeping some secrets from us."

You just shrugged again, keeping the mystery between you all. You didn’t need to explain yourself. Not yet, anyway.

The rest of the conversation drifted off, but you could feel Geo’s eyes flicking to you every so often like he was sizing something up. Whether it was the situation, you, or something else entirely, you couldn’t quite tell.

But for now, you weren’t going to push.

After all, this had been going on for months now—stretching into the current year. Geo and Sol—two men who had wormed their way into your thoughts in ways you couldn’t quite understand. It wasn’t just when you were around them.

No, their presence lingered even when they weren’t there, like an unshakable hum in the back of your mind. It circled you constantly, like an orbit you couldn’t escape, especially as you sat in bed late at night, trying to focus on your homework.

Every time you’d start to make progress, one of them would pop into your head, their images uninvited and persistent.

Sometimes, you'd find yourself imagining them both vying for your attention at once—Geo, with his cool, almost aloof demeanor, and Sol, burning with that raw, intense energy he always carried.

You’d picture them both charming you at the same time, competing for your affections in some twisted game. You’d have to smack your head with a pillow to shake the thought loose, as if physical force could snap you back into reality.

Geo: the silent, brooding menace who could make you feel like the only person in the room with just a glance.

And then there was Sol: the human equivalent of a forest fire—intense, consuming, and just a little bit unhinged.

Each of them pulled at your heart in a very different way, and frankly? It was ruining your life.

Class should’ve been simple, but nope. Your mind kept spiraling between the two of them like some shamelessdaydreamer. This was supposed to be a harmless little game—a fun flirtation. You weren’t supposed to actually catch feelings.

And yet, here you were, caught in a ridiculous mental tug-of-war. You knew you couldn’t have both. You weren’t thatkind of person. Right?

…Right?

But the thought just wouldn’t leave. It sat there. Mocking you.

You groaned, running a hand down your face. It’s not like you could just—

…Oh god.

You couldn’t have a threesome with them.

That was insane. Insane.

You let out a quiet, awkward laugh at the mere idea of it. Geo and Sol? Together? Working together? As if. Those two could barely exist in the same airspace without someone looking ready to throw hands.

They’d sooner kill each other than ever—

…

Unless…

Before you could delve deeper into that increasingly absurd—and wildly tempting—thought, a voice cut through your spiraling thoughts.

"Hey, you good?"

You blinked, snapping back to reality, your thoughts scattering like leaves in the wind. There was Sol, standing over you, his pen set down on the table in front of you. His hand—big and warm—reached out, tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear with a simple, almost gentle touch. 

It was something so small, so subtle, but it completely threw you off. 

Your breath caught in your throat, and you had to cough to cover the sudden rush of heat flooding your chest.

Shit.

"You sure?" Sol’s voice was low and steady, but there was a note of concern in it that caught you off guard. His eyes lingered on you, studying your face, as if trying to decipher what was going on behind your cool exterior. "That look on your face says otherwise."

You quickly shook your head, trying to brush it off, though you knew it didn’t quite work. “I’m fine, really,” you said, though your voice had a slight edge to it—irritation creeping in. Why was he always so perceptive? It made you uncomfortable.

Sol didn’t buy it. Of course, he didn’t. He stood there, watching you with that intense gaze of his, making you feel like he could see right through you. Maybe you weren’t fine. Maybe the situation was more complicated than you'd like to admit, and maybe, just maybe, he was the one who could throw you off balance with just a touch.

But no, you wouldn’t let him know that. Not yet. You were fine.

You were just… fine. Right?

Fuck no.

Art class ended, and the moment the bell rang, you bolted out of the classroom, making a quick escape. You needed to get away—fast. The building seemed endless, but you were determined to make it out as you pushed the glass door open before you ran into anyone who would slow you down.

But as you rounded the corner, you collided with something—no, someone. Strong arms caught you before you could stumble back. You looked up to find Geo standing there, an unreadable expression on his face, clearly waiting for you.

“Watch where you’re going,” Geo said, his voice steady, though there was an edge to it as he held you firmly. “Could’ve fallen.”

You sighed, rolling your eyes, trying to ignore the way your heart skipped a beat from the sudden closeness. “I know,” you muttered, pulling away from his grip. But as you tried to step back, you could feel his gaze on you, like he could read you better than anyone else. 

Oh shit.

“Something wrong?” Geo asked, his tone softer, more probing now. He tilted his head slightly, studying your face.

You didn’t want to deal with this. Not here. Not with half the school walking by, eyes glued to the scene. You couldn’t bring yourself to make this anything public—not when the whole damn hallway was buzzing with life. You didn’t want to be an exhibit. 

“Nothing,” you snapped, avoiding his gaze as you turned to walk away, trying to make your steps as quick and purposeful as possible.

But of course, Geo wasn’t the type to let things slide. You could feel the weight of his footsteps behind you, steady like he wasn’t planning to let you go that easily.

You kept walking, the distance between you and him narrowing as he caught up with you, his presence heavy in the air.

“Don’t think I’m letting this go,” he said, his voice low and knowing. 

You almost wanted to tell him to drop it. To stop following you. But you couldn’t find the words. You’d rather deal with this alone in your studio apartment at your dorm building. Maybe just let the work pile up, let the hours drag on. You didn’t want to have this conversation—not now, not in front of everyone.

But as Geo walked behind you, you knew one thing for sure: he wasn’t going to let you hide from it.

You walked briskly toward your dorm, eager for the quiet refuge of your room. The noise of the campus buzzed around you, but you barely registered it. You needed a moment to think, to breathe, to escape the tension that had been building all day.

Just as you rounded the corner, ready to slip inside the safety of your dorm building, your luck completely betrayed you.

Sol stood in front of the door, arms crossed, his usual playful smirk replaced by something that looked almost like frustration. Behind you, you could feel Geo’s presence, steady and unyielding.

He’d caught up to you.

“Can I help you?” you muttered, not bothering to hide the irritation in your voice as you stopped short, staring at Sol’s casual stance.

Sol’s eyes flickered to Geo for a moment before focusing back on you. “So, what’s going on?” His voice was laced with amusement, but there was a clear edge to it, like he knew something you weren’t saying.

Geo didn’t speak at first, standing just behind you, as if guarding the space between you and Sol. He wasn’t making any moves to push past, but his presence was unmistakable, like a shadow you couldn’t shake.

You took a deep breath, hoping the annoyance that flared in your chest didn’t spill out as you spoke. “Nothing’s going on,” you said with heavy sigh, “I’m just trying to get to my dorm.”

“Oh, you’re trying to get to your dorm?” Sol repeated, his eyebrows lifting slightly, a mock sweetness to his voice. “How convenient. He’s with you.”

Geo shifted slightly behind you, his gaze on Sol but saying nothing. His silence was suffocating, like the calm before a storm, but you didn’t want to deal with it.

Not now. Not here.

“Seriously,” you said, your voice tight, trying to push past the bubbling frustration. “I’m not in the mood for this, okay? I’m not doing whatever game you two are playing. I just want some space.”

Sol stepped forward, blocking your path. “But space from what? From me? Or from Him?” He said, more like in a worried tone.

Your heart skipped, and the tension in your chest built up again. You had no idea what either of them wanted—if they were trying to get under your skin, if they were genuinely concerned, or if they just liked messing with you. 

Either way, you were getting frustrated.

Geo finally spoke, his voice low and even. “There’s right. If they want space, they should get it.”

Sol’s gaze shifted to him, then back to you. His lips pressed together in the way he did when he was trying to hold back. But the tension between them was palpable. You could feel the pull of it, both of them watching you, waiting for something. You weren’t sure what it was, but you knew you didn’t want to find out.

“So what’s it going to be?” Sol asked, his tone still light but sharper now, like a blade hidden under velvet.

You were fucked, weren’t you? 

Stuck between two guys who couldn’t seem to let you be, two men who both knew how to get to you in different ways. And for once, you didn’t know how to escape it. You didn’t know how to get them both to leave you alone. 

You had to choose your next words carefully, but for the first time in a long time, you weren’t sure what the right choice even was.

The silence hung thick between you, Sol and Geo, both of them locked in a battle of wills without saying much—yet it felt like everything was being said. You could feel the tension in the air, thick enough to suffocate.

Then, with the smallest crack in the quiet, it started.

“You can’t seriously be this fucking oblivious, can you?” Sol’s voice was sharp, a knife-edge cutting through the air. His eyes flared with a familiar anger, but there was something else there now—something that definitely screams jealousy.

Geo didn’t back down.

“What the hell are you talking about?” His voice, obviously sturdy just annoyed.

“Oh, you’re really gonna act like you don’t know now?” Sol snapped, taking a step forward, his gaze never leaving Geo. "You can clearly see they not some fucking toy for you to keep playing with. Can’t you see there’s already fucking exhausted from all of this? From you”

The words hit like a punch, but they weren’t aimed at you—not directly. Still, you could feel the weight of them, as if they were pulling you in, squeezing tighter and tighter.

You stood there, frozen. 

Your thoughts swirled in your mind—fuck this, you can’t deal with this now. 

You wanted to scream, to tell them to shut up and let you go, but the words never came. Instead, you just stared at the ground, feeling the pressure of the moment pressing down on you.

“Exhausted?” Geo’s scoff was low, almost bitter.

“They haven’t said a word to me about being tired of anything.” His eyes flicked to you, but for once, you didn’t meet his gaze.

You couldn’t. It would make it worse.

it wasn’t long that your name fell upon Geo lips, looking down at you, you refused to look before he for you face to look at you.

"You have something to tell me?” Geo asked.

Fuck. Things are definitely worse now because with that sudden touch oh Sol? Yeah, he’s not having it anymore.

“Hey get your hands off them” Sol’s voice was nearly a growl now, and you could feel the heat radiating off him like he was a flame ready to burn everything down.

"I’m not letting you have them.”

Geo’s response was immediate, and the words were like steel. “Oh, I don’t have to take anything from you. I’m not the one chasing them around pretending to be thier fucking savior.”

You winced at the word savior. It felt like everything was crumbling in on itself. The walls that you had spent so long trying to keep up—between them, between your feelings, between yourself—were crumbling into dust.

And you didn’t stop them. You didn’t say a word. The argument, as much as it was annoying you, felt easier than breaking the silence. It felt better than picking a side, better than making this worse.

Instead, you just stood there, eyes glued to the floor however listen with your heart racing as the fight between them escalated. Every word, every accusation, every harsh tone felt like a dagger.

This is your fault, isn’t it?

Playing a game between two possessive men... 

Yeah, you definitely fucked things up.

Sol stepped closer, his eyes flashing with a fierce intensity. “I’m not their savior. I just wanna make sure that they’re okay, you’re the one that’s stressing them."

Geo took a step forward, closing the space between them. “And who exactly said that? Last time I checked, you do not speak for them. How long are you gonna act like they belong to you, delusional ass.”

You could feel your pulse quicken as the anger between them seemed to rise, boiling over, threatening to explode. You were caught in the middle, a bystander to a fight that you caused.

And still, you did nothing. You didn’t speak, didn’t intervene. You just stood there, your heart hammering in your chest, trying to fight back the suffocating wave of frustration, fear, and exhaustion.

“Stop it,” you finally whispered, so quietly that neither of them seemed to hear it at first. But they were both too deep in their argument to notice.

"Stop," you said louder this time, your voice shaking but firm. “Just stop. I don’t want this.”

Geo and Sol froze at the sound of your voice, both of them pausing mid-sentence, and for a moment, you thought that maybe—just maybe—they might listen. But then Geo’s gaze shifted to you, his eyes filled with something unreadable.

“Look, I don’t need your help, either of you. I’m just… I just need some fucking space,” you said, your words sharp and exhausted, finally breaking the dam of silence that had been holding you in place.

You didn’t want to explain yourself anymore. .

Geo and Sol exchanged a brief, tense glance, but neither of them moved.

Your voice cracked slightly as you took another step back. “Please. Go away…”

Without waiting for a response, you turned and walked away, the weight of their eyes on your back like a burning brand. The silence between you all lingered as you left them standing there, words unfinished in the air. 

You didn't know what would come next, but for now, you needed to be alone.

You slammed the door behind you, leaning your forehead against the cool wood for a moment, just to collect yourself. The weight of it all hit you then—every little mistake, every decision that had led to this point. Slowly, you slid down to the floor, hugging your knees to your chest as if holding yourself together was the only thing left you could do.

You hated this.

Hated the mess you’d made.

Hated that you thought you could handle it, that you could juggle them both without consequences. The worst part? You didn’t even really know what you were hoping for—what you thought would happen. You had an idea, but now that you were here, it felt like you’d just stepped into your own trap.

You cared for both of them, deeply. And as much as that made your chest ache, you couldn’t forget that they were adults, just like you. They were capable of making their own decisions, and this mess? It was your doing. You let it spiral. 

With a deep sigh, you finally pulled off your shoes and tossed them aside, already thinking about the shower you desperately needed. Maybe, just maybe, they'd be chill by the time you were done. 

But, fuck, who were you kidding?

This was far from over.

Meanwhile, Geo exhaled sharply through his nose, the tension in his shoulders growing with every missed shot. The arrow barely scraped the target this time, and he clicked his tongue in frustration.

It wasn’t like him to miss. His hands were steady, his breathing controlled—but his mind? His mind was an absolute mess.

Because of you.

Five damn calls. Five times he let it ring, only to get nothing in return. He had half a mind to try again, but instead, he shoved his phone into his pocket and shot off a final text.

I’ll leave you alone.

And yet, the moment he sent it, he regretted it. He didn't want to leave you alone. That was the whole problem, wasn’t it?

Before he could dwell on it, a voice cut through the air.

“So, you think you’re funny, huh?”

Geo didn’t even flinch. He already knew who it was before he turned his head. Sol was standing in the archery room now, door shut behind him, posture loose but his eyes sharp.

Geo rolled his eyes, lowering his bow. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, emo.”

That was the last straw.

In a blink, Sol had grabbed him by the collar, yanking him forward, their faces inches apart. Geo barely had time to process the shift before Sol’s voice came low and dark.

“Don’t start that ignorant bullshit,” Sol growled, fingers tightening in Geo’s shirt. “I know exactly what you’re doing. You’re trying to make me look like an ass.”

Geo let out a breath of laughter, cool and effortless, but there was an edge to it. “Me? I didn’t do anything.” His smirk deepened the glint in his eye anything but apologetic. “You do that enough as it is.”

Sol’s grip tightened, knuckles whitening. His eyes were burning, brimming with something dangerously close to fury.

Geo just sighed.

Sol’s jaw twitched, his fingers still tight in Geo’s collar as he narrowed his eyes. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" His voice was low, filled with jealousy. "You’re obsessed. You keep trying to prove you’re better than me—so much so that you’d stoop this low?"  

Geo let out a quiet scoff, his expression unreadable. "Obsessed?" He tilted his head slightly, considering the word. "If I were obsessed, you wouldn't even be able to breathe near them." His voice was smooth, even. "I trust them. I respect them. That’s what this is. You? You just want control."  

Sol's grip wavered for half a second before his teeth clenched. "That’s some bullshit ass-kissing if I’ve ever heard it."  

Geo’s smirk barely faltered. "And yet, you’re the one constantly up their ass for attention." He leaned in just slightly, voice dropping lower, colder. "How about you try treating them like a normal person instead of acting like you own them?"  

Sol's expression darkened, however Geo didn’t move, didn’t even blink.

Damn, he really don’t care nonchalant ass.

Then, with deliberate slowness, Geo reached up and pried Sol’s fingers off his collar, brushing himself off as if the whole thing had been a minor inconvenience.  

"I’d say grow up," Geo muttered, turning away, "but we both know that’s never happening."

Sol let out a short, humorless laugh. "I have no problem settling this with my fists, you know." His tone was sharp, a direct challenge.  

Geo rolled his eyes, unimpressed. "Right, because that’s always worked so well for you." He adjusted the strap on his archery gear, not even looking at Sol as he spoke. "You can threaten me all you want, but we both know neither of us would like where that road leads."  

Sol’s fingers twitched. His patience was razor-thin. "Tch." His brows furrowed, annoyance flickering across his face. "You always got that smug, rich asshole act going, huh?" He tilted his head, eyes narrowing. "News flash, dude—just because you’ve got money and pretty looking doesn’t mean you're better than me."  

Geo finally turned to face him, completely unfazed. "Never said I was." He packed up the rest of his things, moving with an infuriating amount of calm. Then, as he reached the door, he paused. Looking over his shoulder, he sighed.  

"And?" His voice was light, almost teasing. "At least I’m not some crazy ‘yandere’ lover."  

That was it. Sol’s jaw clenched, his hands curling into fists at his sides. 

Oh, this wasn’t over. Not by a long shot. Neither of them were backing down.  

Not until you choose.  

You stepped outside, and the cold hit you first—a stark contrast to the warmth of your dorm, where you had been holed up for the past week. The wind carried the faint chatter of students, the distant sound of traffic blending with the occasional echo of laughter.

The familiar scent of freshly brewed coffee from the campus café lingered in the air, but even that didn’t soothe the tension coiling in your chest.  

The campus felt the same, unchanged as if the world had continued spinning without you. And yet, to you, everything felt different. The space between each step felt heavier, your mind was unwilling the overthink thoughts.

You pulled your jacket tighter around yourself, fingers clenching the fabric as you moved toward the main part of campus. It should’ve felt freeing, stepping out again, stretching your legs after days of isolation. But instead, a strange unease settled in your gut, an unshakable tension that refused to leave.  

You sighed, pulling out your phone, and you flicked through your notifications.  

Missed Calls: 15+

Messages Unread: 10+

Both are from Sol and Geo.

You sighed, rolling your eyes at yourself. You really should call them back.  

But which one?  

If you called Geo first, Sol would find out—one way or another. If you called Sol, Geo would know. Those two could be halfway across the world from each other, and they’d still figure it out.  

Just your luck.  

You stared at your phone, thumb hovering over the screen. A part of you thought about just ignoring them both for another day—but you already knew that wouldn’t last.  

So...

Who first?

✑ 𝓈𝑜𝓁

You inhaled deeply, feeling the moment's weight settle over you as you stared at Sol’s contact on your phone screen. The decision to finally call him had been a long time coming, but now that it was here, your stomach churned with the uncertainty of what might follow.

You tapped the screen, watching the call ring, each second stretching longer than the last.

The phone barely rang twice before he picked up.

"You finally decided to call," he said, his voice lower than usual—quieter, almost softer, but there was an edge to it. Not anger. Not relief. But something else that you couldn’t quite place. The words hung in the air, a strange mixture of resignation and something else that made your chest tighten.

You hesitated, guilt gnawing at your insides. You’d kept your distance for so long. Too long. And now, hearing his voice—so calm, but threaded with an unmistakable undercurrent of tension—it felt almost like a punch to the gut. "Yeah. I figured it was about time," you said, your voice steady despite the roiling anxiety beneath the surface.

There was a long pause on the other end, just the faintest sound of him exhaling—a sigh of sorts. You could almost hear the weight of the silence before he spoke again. 

"You okay?"

The simplicity of the question threw you off. You expected sarcasm, irritation—hell, even some passive-aggressive jabs would’ve been easier to handle. But this? It was genuine. A rawness in his tone that cut through everything else. He was asking, not because he wanted something, but because he actually cared. And that scared you.

You swallowed, fighting the lump in your throat, unsure of how to answer. "I—yeah. I just needed time," you said, the words coming out quieter than you intended.

"I get that now," he replied after a beat, the faint rasp in his voice betraying something deeper. "But I’m not gonna lie, I didn’t like it."

His honesty hit you harder than you expected. It wasn’t what you wanted to hear, but somehow, it felt like a relief. Sol wasn’t the type to mince words, and in this moment, you knew exactly where he stood. You weren’t sure what you were expecting from this conversation, but it was clear that what you’d put off for so long was finally catching up to both of you.

There was another long silence, the kind that settled heavy between you, and you could almost feel him on the other side of the phone, waiting, unsure of what you were going to say next. 

"Can we talk?" you asked, the words leaving your mouth before you could second-guess them. The finality of it surprised you—this was it. The moment you’d both been dancing around for too long.

Sol was quiet for a second, the kind of silence that stretched just a little too long, leaving you hanging on the edge of the conversation, wondering if you’d pushed him too far. You held your breath, waiting. When he finally spoke, his voice was softer, though still laced with that familiar edge of uncertainty. 

"You sure?" he asked, the words carrying a subtle weight, as though he were wondering if this was something you both could handle.

"I wouldn’t be calling if I wasn’t," you replied, your voice firmer now. You weren’t going to back down. You needed to talk. You needed answers. And maybe, just maybe, you needed him.

There was a shift in his tone, like a decision had been made. A soft exhale followed by the sound of movement on his end, maybe him shifting in his seat, maybe running a hand through his hair. You could almost picture it—Sol, leaning back, thinking, processing everything that had happened. 

"All right," he said finally. "Art classroom. After classes. The door’s open."

The way he said it made your heart skip. It wasn’t just an invitation—it was a call to meet, a place where things could be sorted. He wasn’t forcing it, but there was no mistaking the gravity in his words. He wanted to talk, too.

You let out the breath you didn’t realize you were holding. "Okay," you replied, the single word carrying more weight than anything else you could’ve said.

"Good," Sol responded, his tone softer now. "See you then."

The call ended with a click, and for a moment, you just stood there, holding the phone in your hand, staring at the screen. You didn’t know what would happen next, but you couldn’t keep running anymore. Whatever was between you and Sol—it was time to face it. 

Whatever happened, you would figure it out.

With a heavy sigh, you set the phone down, bracing yourself for whatever this conversation would bring. You couldn’t avoid it any longer.

The air outside was crisp, the warmth of the midday sun barely cutting through the lingering chill of early spring. Students filtered across the courtyard in waves, either rushing to their next class or loitering in clusters, laughing and chatting like nothing in the world could touch them.

You wished you could feel that kind of ease right now. Instead, the weight of unfinished business pressed against your chest as you stepped out of the building, prepared to put as much distance between yourself and the past week's tension as possible.

Then you saw him.

Geo.

Leaning against a pillar near the main walkway, his phone in hand, his expression unreadable. He wasn’t looking at you—not directly—but you knew him well enough to recognize the way his posture shifted, the subtle tilt of his head.

He’d been waiting for you. Your stomach tightened. Great.

Your grip on your bag strap tightened as you debated walking right past him. Maybe he’d let you go. Maybe you could avoid whatever this conversation was going to be—at least for a little longer.

But you knew better.

Geo wasn’t the type to let things slide, not when something was clearly bothering him. And sure enough, just as you tried to step around him, his voice cut through the noise of passing students.

"Hey."

You exhaled sharply, stopping in your tracks. “Hey, Geo.”

Finally, he lifted his gaze. Sharp, assessing—searching.

For what? You weren’t sure.

Whatever he saw in your face made something in his expression tighten, but he didn’t press immediately. Instead, he pushed off the pillar with an easy, practiced motion, sliding his hands into his pockets as he fell into step beside you.

Like this was normal. It wasn’t.

The silence stretched between you both, thick and heavy. You weren’t sure what to say, and for once, Geo didn’t immediately break it with some casual comment.

Then, a familiar voice cut through the tension.

"Okay, this is getting awkward as hell."

You turned to see Crowe standing a few feet away, arms crossed, one brow arched in amusement.

Geo scoffed. "No one's talking to you, Jericho.”

"Yeah, well, someone's gotta say it," Crowe shot back, stepping closer. He looked between you and Geo before sighing. "All right, real talk? You two need to clear the air, 'cause this weird-ass tension? It's making everyone uncomfortable."

Your stomach twisted. You knew it. Of course, the group had noticed. Even if you had spent the past week avoiding everyone, the energy between you and Geo—between you, Geo, and Sol—had lingered like a stain.

You exhaled sharply. "Crowe, not now."

"Then when?" Crowe challenged. "You can’t keep dodging this forever. And I know damn well Geo won’t drop it."

You flicked a glance at Geo, and sure enough, he was watching you carefully. He hadn’t denied it.

You rolled your shoulders, trying to shake the weight pressing down on you. “I just—” You cut yourself off, sighing again.

Geo spoke then, low and even. "I just want to talk."

It was that simple. Yet, it wasn’t.

Crowe tilted his head, giving you a pointed look. "So?"

You hesitated. You had already agreed to see Sol later. Adding Geo into the mix now? It felt like asking for trouble.

But at the same time…

You swallowed. “Fine. Let’s talk.”

Geo nodded once, slipping his hands into his pockets. Crowe grinned like he had just won something.

"Good. Now, I’m gonna leave before I end up in the middle of some dramatic lovers' quarrel." He spun on his heel and walked off, muttering under his breath about “...people and their complicated ass relationships.”

You took a slow breath, turning to Geo. “Where do you wanna do this?”

He gestured ahead. “Walk with me.”

You nodded. And with that, you fell into step beside him, feeling the weight of everything unsaid press down on you. Geo's silence as you walked together was unnerving, but not unusual. You had known him long enough to recognize when he was working something out in his head, dissecting information and piecing together a bigger picture.

And then—

"You're going to see him, aren't you?"

You froze for half a second before narrowing your eyes at him.

“How do you—”

Geo sighed, but there was no amusement in his expression.

"You just gave yourself away."

Fuck.

You clenched your jaw, shifting your bag higher on your shoulder. “.....I have to talk to him,” you admitted, voice measured.

Geo hummed, as if considering something, then tilted his head. "Because you like him?"

That stopped you. You didn’t answer. Couldn’t. The words were there, pressing against your tongue, but they refused to come out.

Geo exhaled sharply, leaning his head back before looking at you again, his usual cool demeanor cracking just slightly. "You need to stay away from him." His voice was firm, but not commanding—like he was trying to warn you rather than control you.

"He’s not what you think he is."

You rolled your eyes, scoffing. “Oh, what, you’re jealous now?”

Geo didn’t react right away, just watching you with an unreadable expression. You turned to leave, deciding you were done with this conversation, but before you could take more than two steps, his hand caught yours.

Not forcefully. Not to restrain. Just… holding.

You hesitated, glancing back at him. His fingers were warm around yours, his grip firm but careful.

Geo clicked his tongue in irritation. "I'm serious." His voice lost its usual arrogance, dipping into something quieter, something almost… uncertain. His brows pulled together just slightly, frustration flickering in his expression before he masked it again. "Believe me."

You hesitated, caught off guard by the shift in his tone. Geo wasn’t the type to plead, not like this.

Your fingers twitched at your side before you sighed, shaking your head. “Geo.” Your voice carried a tired edge. “I’m gonna see him. Whether you like it or not.”

His jaw clenched. "Use that brain of yours, dumbass," he muttered, irritation bleeding into his words. His usual smugness was still there, but it was strained��forced. "You can see it, can't you? That emo-ass dude isn't a good person."

You met his gaze, expecting the usual annoyed expression, the knowing glint in his eye. But there was none of that. Just something kept inside, something restless.

Still, you shook your head, unwilling to back down.

"I’ll figure things out myself."

Geo scoffed, but it lacked its usual bite. "Fine. It's your funeral," He didn’t stop you. Just shoved his hands into his pockets, watching as you walked away—like he wanted to say more but didn’t know how.

The sun had already begun to set when you strolled to the art building, the cool evening air wrapping around you in a bracing hug. The campus was quieter than usual, the incessant buzz of student chatter silenced by the soft murmur of distant conversations and the occasional crackle of leaves.

You walked down the corridor, your footsteps rustling softly against the floors, and arrived at the door to the art studio.

You paused for a single second, your hand hovering over the doorknob, before turning it and entering. The room was little illuminated, the golden yellow tones of the dying sun seeping in through the high windows, lighting the lengthening shadows thrown across the scattered easels and unfinished works.

The smell of paint and graphite filled the air, a welcome familiarity. The soft rumble of a heater vibrated through the room, and the soft whisper of papers as someone shifted around was the only sound.

And there he was.

Sol was sitting on a stool in the center of the room, a sketchpad resting on his knees. His dark hair fell just a little too long over his eyes, his usual brooding expression eased in concentration. He didn't even notice you at first, completely absorbed in the pencil gliding across the paper.

You stood there for a moment, watching him, the way the soft light caught on his face, the tension in his posture, the slight frown of concentration as his hand glided with practiced ease.

It was like a moment frozen in time. 

You almost didn’t want to interrupt him. But then, just as you made a move to step forward, Sol looked up. His eyes met yours with that piercing gaze of his, dark and unreadable for a brief second. He blinked, his pencil pausing mid-air, and for a moment, you both just stared at each other.

He stood up slowly, pushing the stool back with a faint scrape of metal against the floor. His movements were deliberate, almost hesitant, as though he hadn’t quite expected you to actually show up. He stepped toward you, and you could feel the weight of his gaze settle on you like a heavy cloud.

“I didn’t think you’d come,” Sol said, his voice low and slightly rough, like he had been waiting for this moment for a while. He took a few steps closer, his hands shifting awkwardly, unsure of what to do with them.

You didn’t answer right away, still trying to calm the nervous flutter in your chest. The tension between you two was thick enough to cut with a knife, but you had come here for a reason, and you weren’t going to back out now.

“Sol…” you started, your voice almost too quiet against the stillness of the room. You cleared your throat, meeting his eyes. “We need to talk.”

His expression shifted, ever so slightly, but you could tell he understood what you meant. There was a moment of hesitation, his lips pressing together tightly, before he nodded once, slowly.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice steady but with an undercurrent of something unreadable. “We do.”

He didn’t say anything else, just stood there for a second, letting the silence stretch out between you both. The space between you was intimate in a way that was almost suffocating, but you didn’t back away.

“I guess…” Sol started, breaking the silence with a soft chuckle, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “It’s a good thing you came. I didn’t have anything better to do.” He paused, running a hand through his hair, his expression turning more serious.

“What exactly do you want to talk about?”

You chuckled softly, the sound almost a little hollow in the heavy atmosphere of the room. The absurdity of it all hit you then—how this had escalated, how you’d been caught between two men who seemed to be competing for your attention in ways you couldn’t quite understand or even fully control.

You couldn’t help but find it almost funny, the way both Geo and Sol had turned their jealousy into some kind of twisted competition, each trying to outdo the other. It had felt like a game at first, but now? Now, it was starting to weigh on you.

"You know," you said, a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips as you finally broke the silence, "...it’s funny. The way you and Geo both get all... jealous. Like you both think it’s some sort of competition to see who can make me crack first."

Sol’s eyes narrowed slightly, a shift in his expression that you recognized. But you weren’t done yet.

"You both get under each other’s skin so easily, and it's... honestly kind of funny watching you two try to outdo each other," you continued, leaning against the edge of a nearby desk, arms folded. "But it’s exhausting too, don’t you think? Playing these mind games."

Sol stood there, jaw tight, his hands twitching by his sides as if he were trying to hold back whatever he wanted to say. His silence only fueled your need to vent more.

"Who’s more jealous?" you muttered under your breath, the words slipping out before you could even stop them. "You? Or Geo?"

Sol’s expression didn’t shift. He was standing there, his eyes scanning you, but you could see the flicker of frustration in them.

You could feel the tension rising, but you didn’t want to be here anymore—not like this.

The whole situation, the constant pull between them, was overwhelming, and it wasn’t just because they were being possessive. It was because you cared about both of them in ways you didn’t know how to explain.

You paused and shook your head, dropping your arms from your chest. “You know what? I can’t do this anymore.”

Sol’s gaze softened just a fraction as you spoke, and he stepped a little closer to you, though he was still keeping a distance. “Can’t do what?” he asked, his voice quieter, less biting now.

You sighed, your mind spinning. "I don’t want to be a part of this game anymore. The whole back and forth, the jealousy. I need peace." Your voice cracked slightly, and you hated how vulnerable it made you feel. "I don’t want to be the prize in some stupid contest."

Sol’s lips pressed into a thin line, his expression unreadable. There was a long, heavy pause as you stared at him, fighting the urge to turn away.

“You’re here to let me down, then?” he asked, his voice rougher now, a hint of something darker in it that sent a chill down your spine. He was looking at you like he didn’t know what to make of you anymore.

"No," you said, shaking your head quickly. "I’m not here to let you down." You took a breath, steadying yourself before continuing.

"I just… I like you. I do." You started.

"I like you more than I care to admit, and that’s the truth."

There. You said it. Happy?

Out loud, right in front of him. Sad?

You had to admit it at some point, and there was no better time than now. It felt like a weight lifted off your chest, though the air still felt thick with tension.

Yeah, you lowkey still cared for Geo, but when it came down to it, you realized it was Sol you were drawn to the most.

His intensity, the way he never seemed to need to explain himself, the way he got under your skin without even trying—it had all tangled together in your mind in ways you couldn't ignore anymore.

Sol stared at you for a long moment, his gaze softening just slightly, but still guarded. He didn’t speak right away, and the silence between you both felt suffocating. His eyes flickered between your face and your lips as if trying to read you, understand you, but it seemed like you had caught him off guard.

"I..." he started, then paused, like he was choosing his words carefully. "You don’t know how fucked up this is," he muttered under his breath, his voice low. "I didn’t think you’d actually come here and say that."

You could feel the weight of the moment pressing in, everything hanging between the two of you. But you didn't regret it. Not really.

“I needed to say it,” you whispered, your gaze meeting his with as much certainty as you could muster. "I’m done with the games, Sol."

He took a step closer to you, his hand reaching out, but he didn’t touch you—not yet. He was still watching you, trying to figure out where you stood, and where this would go next.

Then suddenness of Sol’s movement caught you completely off guard. One moment, he was standing in front of you, his expression guarded and intense, and the next, he had you in his arms, lifting you effortlessly off the ground.

Before you could react, he spun you around and placed you against the cold surface of one of the long tables in the empty art classroom. The sound of it echoed in the otherwise quiet room, but you couldn’t focus on that. 

All you could focus on was him. 

His body was pressed against yours, pinning you down, and you felt the heat radiating off him. The sharpness in his gaze was unmistakable, his red-orange eyes darker now, filled with something you couldn’t quite name but could feel in your bones—a hunger, a possessiveness. He leaned down, his breath hot against your ear, and you froze, caught in the intensity of the moment.

"Sol," you whispered, your voice shaking with a mix of uncertainty and something else, something you couldn’t quite understand.

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, his hand grabbed your wrist, holding it down on the table beside you with a strength that left no room for resistance. You could feel the pressure of his grip, the way he was keeping you in place, making sure you didn’t move. His thumb brushed lightly over your pulse, sending a chill through you as his gaze lowered to your lips.

"I’ve been waiting for this," he murmured, his voice rough, as if it were a secret he’d been dying to share. "I should’ve made you mine sooner, pumpkin. Shouldn’t have let you slip away, should’ve known you were mine from the start."

Before you could respond, before you could even process the words, his lips crashed onto yours. It was fierce, desperate, and possessive, his kiss taking control immediately. His mouth was hot, demanding, and he pulled you closer, using his hold on your wrist to keep you trapped beneath him. 

Your breath caught in your throat as his lips moved against yours, and the more you tried to breathe, the tighter he pulled you. His body felt like a weight on top of you, keeping you locked in place. You tried to pull away, to create some distance, but his grip on your wrist tightened, and he growled low in his throat, making it clear that escape was not an option. 

Sol pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes burning with an intensity that made you shiver. His breath was coming in shallow gasps, his chest rising and falling as he stared down at you, his lips still slightly parted from the kiss.

"You’re mine now, pumpkin," he murmured, the words soft—too soft—but laced with something undeniable. Something that curled around you like chains, invisible but unbreakable. His fingers brushed against your skin, gently, but you knew better. There was nothing gentle about him, not when he looked at you like that.

His eyes, dark and unwavering, held yours captive. “I’ll keep you close. Not Geo, not anyone… Just me.”

The way he said it, sweet like a lover’s promise, yet suffocating in its certainty, sent a slow, creeping shiver down your spine. This wasn’t affection. It wasn’t even love. It was something else—something unshakable, something that left no room for escape.

His hold tightened, his lips ghosting over your ear as his breath fanned against your skin. “I’ll make sure you never forget that,” he whispered, the words sinking in like a vow, like a sentence.

Your breath hitched. The room felt smaller. His grip on your wrist, the weight of his presence—everything about him pulled you deeper into something you weren’t sure you’d ever get out of.

Sol wasn’t just the man you liked anymore. He was something more, something dangerous. And as much as you wanted to fight it, to pull away, the terrifying truth settled in the pit of your stomach.

You weren’t going anywhere.

Not unless he allowed it.

✑ 𝑔𝑒𝑜 

He's longer; sorry, I’m biased.

You stared at your phone for a long moment, the weight of your decision pressing down on you. You had spent the last week cooped up in your dorm, tangled in your own thoughts, unable to find peace with yourself or with them.

Sol and Geo... the constant pull between them had turned everything into a confusing mess. 

But now? You needed clarity. You needed someone who wouldn’t add more fuel to the fire, someone who would just listen without trying to one-up the other. Maybe you were kidding yourself—because this was Geo, after all. But you needed this.  

Taking a deep breath, you hovered your fingers over the screen, glancing at the missed calls again. Your pulse was racing, the anxiety of the choice settling in your chest. The last thing you wanted was to face this alone—but you also didn’t want to avoid it.  

After what felt like an eternity, you made the decision.

You called Geo.  

It rang one time before his voice answered, and you immediately felt the coldness in his tone, like he doesn't care but he's been secretly been waiting for this call.

“Hey, you cool now?”  

Yeah he's definitely upset but also quiet concern hidden beneath his brooding ass personality.

You rolled your eyes but also tried to steady your breath, the weight of everything crashing down on you all at once. You didn’t know how to explain it, so you didn’t try to. Instead, you just said what you needed to say.  

“I... I need to talk to you. Can we meet somewhere?”  

There was a pause on the other end, and for a moment, you wondered if he was thinking it over. But he didn’t push for more information. He simply agreed, his voice calm and understanding.  

“Sure. Where do you want to meet?”  

You bit your lip, a brief moment of indecision hitting you. But then it came to you. "Where you at?"  

He paused for a beat before replying, “About to start classes, but later I have archery practice.”  

“Bet,” you said, your voice steadying. “I’m coming when you have practice.”  

Before he could say anything else, you hung up. The decision felt sudden like you were just throwing yourself into the unknown, but there was a strange sense of relief mixed with it.  

Damn, that really overwhelmed you.  

You leaned back against the wall, closing your eyes for a moment. The tension that had built up over the past few days began to loosen slightly—though you weren’t fooling yourself. There was still so much left unsaid.

The afternoon passed in a blur of lectures and assignments. Your mind kept wandering to your phone, to the call you had just made to Geo. Every time you tried to focus, the weight of everything from the past few weeks came crashing down on you again, clouding your thoughts. You hated the feeling of being so torn, but there was little you could do to change it now.  

After your last class, you quickly went to the campus snack shop. You grabbed a bag of chips and a couple of candy bars, trying to grab a bit of comfort before meeting up with Sol and Hyugo for lunch. The campus was busy with students, the energy of their conversations filling the air, but you felt strangely detached from it all.  

You reached the stairs leading to the roof, where you were supposed to meet them. The familiar sight of the door at the top of the stairs felt almost comforting, like a safe haven. But when you pushed the door open and stepped onto the roof, you only saw Sol.  

You paused, momentarily confused. 

The quiet hum of the city outside the campus walls mixed with the soft sound of wind brushing against the roof, creating a peaceful atmosphere that contrasted sharply with the chaotic thoughts swirling in your mind.

But Sol?

He was there, leaning against the railing, his eyes fixed on the horizon. His usual sharp, confident demeanor softened in the warm sunlight, and there was a rare stillness about him, something you didn’t often get to see.

Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of him, but you quickly shook it off, determined not to let yourself be distracted. You needed to focus, to stay grounded, even though everything felt like it was slipping away.

“Hey,” you called out, your voice cutting through the quiet air.

Sol turned to face you, his eyes scanning you for a moment, his gaze lingering longer than usual. You noticed the faint shadows beneath his eyes, signs of something deeper—a weariness that didn't quite match his usual carefree attitude. He straightened up slowly, a smirk forming at the corner of his lips, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes this time.

“You’re late,” he said, his voice carrying that familiar teasing edge, but something about it felt off.  

You rolled your eyes, pulling out the snacks you’d bought and handing him a bag of chips before grabbing one for yourself. “I bought lunch. Where’s Hyugo?” you asked, looking around, expecting to see him somewhere nearby.

Sol’s smirk faltered, and he shifted his weight slightly, eyes briefly flicking away as if he were debating whether to say something. “He’s upset at me,” Sol said, his tone flat, almost defensive.

You blinked, caught off guard by the admission. “What? Why?”

Sol didn’t immediately respond. Instead, he leaned back against the railing, his eyes studying you for a moment as if he was weighing how much he wanted to reveal. “Doesn’t matter,” he muttered, but there was an edge to his voice now, something that made it clear there was more to the story.

You stared at him, wondering if you should press further, but before you could, Sol asked, “Are you meeting up with Geo today?”

The question caught you off guard, and you hesitated. 

The look in his eyes was tried, searching. It was as if he already knew the answer, but he was waiting for you to say it. You felt a wave of unease wash over you. Should you lie? Should you be truthful? You knew that whatever you said, Sol would know eventually through, and yet, you didn’t want to push him further.

You swallowed, unsure how to respond. Finally, you gave a small, uncertain nod, your voice barely above a whisper. “Yeah...” you said, almost as though you were answering a question you hadn't been ready to face.

The silence hung heavy between you and Sol, the wind carrying a cool edge that seemed to make everything feel even colder. He hadn’t moved, hadn’t even flinched as you shifted uneasily beside him, and when he spoke again, his voice was more urgent than before, more desperate.

“Don’t meet with him,” Sol said, his tone low but intense, like a warning. He was staring straight ahead, hands gripping the railing a little too tightly. 

You look at him, lost as hell, "What—" He cuts you off.

“He is from that rich society that happened to be kicked out of, and you know what that means."

You shrugged your shoulders and shook your head.

You didn't say anything. Ngl let's just hope he doesn't crash out.

"Long story short, you don’t belong in that world. It’s all fake, all about status and image. Why do you want to be with someone like that? Someone who looks at everything like it’s just a game for him?” His voice was laced with bitterness, the words tumbling out in a stream of disapproval, each one landing with a weight that made you feel suffocated.

You could feel his words digging into you, his frustration and anger clear, as though he had been holding this in for too long. The more he spoke, the more you could hear the layers of jealousy and resentment hidden beneath the surface.

“Why are you even considering him?” Sol went on, his eyes now locked on you, sharp and accusing. “You think he’s different, but trust me, he’s not. He’s nothing but a walking reflection of everything that’s wrong with that world. You’re just another thing to him, a new toy to play with before he gets bored. And you—”

Sol paused, his voice dipping, almost as if he was struggling to keep control of his emotions, “You’re smarter than that. You deserve better than to be some rich boy’s little distraction.”

Your hands clenched into fists at your sides, the frustration boiling inside you. You had been hearing this for days, and it was starting to feel like a broken record. His words kept echoing in your head, over and over, but with each passing second, it became harder to listen. 

You couldn’t take it anymore.

“Are you good?” You finally blurted out, your voice sharp with irritation, cutting through his tirade. “Are you seriously obsessed with me or something?” The words left your mouth before you could stop them, the question hanging in the air between you two like a live wire.

Sol’s expression faltered for just a moment, his eyes flashing with something unreadable, something that was maybe a little too close to the truth. But then, without warning, his face hardened again, the smirk returning to his lips, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“You wouldn’t understand,” Sol muttered, more to himself than to you, turning his attention back to the skyline. His posture became stiff again, his shoulders drawn tight like he was bracing for something.

“You’re better off without him. Trust me on this.”

You felt your chest tighten as his words hung in the air, the tension between you thickening. A part of you was almost shocked that he’d go this far, but at the same time, you could sense that this wasn’t the first time he’d crossed a line like this.

His possessiveness, his obsession, it was always there, lurking just beneath the surface. 

You could feel it now, the weight of it pressing down on you.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, but the anger and frustration bubbled to the surface. "You're worthless," you spat out, the words sharp, like a knife cutting through the silence. "I don’t know what the hell you think this is, but I’m not yours. I’ll never be yours." Your voice trembled slightly, not from fear but from the sheer overwhelming weight of your emotions.

For a moment, Sol didn’t react.

He just stood there, his back turned to you, staring off into the distance, the wind tousling his hair. But you could feel the shift in the air, the subtle way the space between you seemed to shrink like he was about to snap.

And then he turned to face you, his eyes darker than before, something almost predatory in his gaze. He stepped forward, closing the distance between you, his hand reaching out to gently, but firmly, take hold of your wrist. “Don’t say that,” he whispered, his voice low and almost dangerous, the words leaving a chill in the air. 

“You’re supposed to be mine, Pumpkin.”

He looks at you deeply, "You just don’t know it yet.”

His words hit you like a punch to the gut. For a split second, you almost felt like you were suffocating, caught in the intensity of his gaze and the suffocating grip he had on your wrist.

A part of you wanted to pull away, to fight, but another part of you—perhaps the one that was tired, exhausted from all the confusion and the constant pull between him and Geo—like shit this was tiring.

But Sol wasn’t going to let you go that easily.

“I can't see him.” His voice was soft, but the underlying threat was unmistakable. “You belong with me. You know that, don’t you? You feel it, too. You can’t deny it, not with how you look at me.”

The words burned through you, and despite everything, you felt a sick sense of dread settle in your stomach. “Stop,” you said, your voice trembling, trying to pull away from him. “You’re insane. You don’t own me. I’m not your fucking possession.”

Sol didn’t let go. His grip tightened just enough to make you wince, “You think I’m crazy?” he asked, his lips curling into a twisted smirk. “You have no idea, do you? I’d burn the world down just to keep you. And you want to play these games with him?” He stepped back for a moment as if letting the words sink in. 

“I thought I was so lucky you gave me a chance.”

There was a moment of silence, the weight of his words hanging between you, before he suddenly broke the fourth wall, his voice shifting slightly as if addressing something outside the moment, outside of reality itself.

“You think you can just walk away from this?” Sol’s voice was sharper now, more knowing, as if speaking directly to the reader, to the reality that existed beyond the world you were in. “Do you think you can make decisions like this without consequences? Without me getting involved?” His eyes gleamed with something unsettling. 

“You can’t run from me, not anymore.”

You felt your heart pounding in your chest as if it might burst from the pressure building inside. The world around you seemed to warp and distort, the edges of reality blurring. 

You were lost—completely and utterly lost. 

You’d thought you understood what was happening, but now, with Sol so close, his words was filled with something sinful and desperate, it was all unraveling in a way you couldn’t make sense of.

The way he looked at you, the way he gripped your wrist like it was his lifeline, it was suffocating. His gaze held something twisted, an obsession that felt too intense, too real.

Why have you been dumb until now? This wasn’t just a simple crush or playful teasing. This wasn’t just a guy who wanted to be close.

No. Sol was obsessed.

And it scared you.

You tried to pull your wrist free, but his grip was tight. The words on your lips were desperate, but they felt so small against the weight of his presence. “This isn’t right,” you murmured, more to yourself than to him.

Sol didn’t respond immediately. He only stared at you, his eyes darkening, as if weighing your every word, your every movement. “You don’t get it, do you?” His voice was low, but there was an edge to it. “I need you. I’ll always make you see. I'll be good, you can do whatever you want to me, use me, hurt me, please”

The words Sol had thrown at you hung in the air, thick and suffocating, making it hard to breathe.

"Pumpkin, please don't pick him." not like I can anyway in the game.

You felt paralyzed, trapped by the weight of his obsession and the raw, unhinged look in his eyes. 

Was this really happening? Was this the mess you’d walked into, too blind to see the signs before?

Your thoughts spiraled, emotions crashing together like a storm you couldn’t outrun. But before you could sort anything out, the air shifted. The tension in the room grew thicker, a new presence making itself known.

Geo.

He appeared in the exit stair doorway, his posture rigid, like he was ready to explode at any second. But it was his eyes that caught your attention, locking onto Sol with a cold, seething intensity that matched the storm brewing between them.

“You’re really fucking crazy, huh?” Geo’s voice was sharp, his words cutting through the charged silence. His gaze never left Sol, as if daring him to say something back.

You tried to back away, finally pulling your wrist free from Sol’s grasp, but your legs were weak, your body trembling with the adrenaline coursing through you. You couldn’t think straight. You needed space; you needed air. But there was no time to escape.

Because Sol’s gaze never wavered, and Geo’s words had already ignited something in him.

“Stay the fuck out of this,” Sol growled, his voice low and dangerous. There was a flash of rage crossing his features, and you knew in that instant that things were about to escalate. 

“You don’t get to come in here and play the knight.”

Geo didn’t flinch. If anything, he seemed even more determined. “You’ve already crossed every line. Just back off, she doesn't want you, peasant,” His voice was calm, but the tension in his shoulders betrayed the storm raging underneath.

“I won’t let you fuck with them any longer.”

And just like that, it was like the dam had broken. Crash out time!!

Sol lunged first, moving quickly, too quickly for you to process. He slammed into Geo with all his weight, pushing him against the nearby wall, and you couldn’t help but flinch at the sound of their bodies colliding.

Geo’s arm shot out, blocking the punch that Sol aimed for his face, and for a moment, they were locked in a brutal, silent struggle.

“Get the fuck off me,” Geo spat, trying to shove Sol away, but Sol was relentless, throwing punches with a viciousness that you didn’t know he had in him—no, no that's a lie, you been know just didn't question it AKA minding your business.

The rooftop felt like it was closing in around you—like no matter how open it can be, the sounds of their fight echoing in your ears as you stumbled backward, not sure whether to intervene or to run.

But you couldn’t move. You were stuck.

Sol was stronger than Geo in this moment, using the element of surprise and his sheer intensity to overpower him. Geo grunted as Sol’s fist connected with his ribs, however Geo wasn’t backing down either. He fought back with the same brutal force, each strike punctuated by curses and gritted teeth.

“You think you can just take them from me?” Sol snarled, his words slurring with anger. “I told you, they’re mine. I don’t care what you think, you don’t deserve them.”

“You don’t own them, Emo!” Geo shouted, his voice breaking with frustration. “Stop acting like you have some fucking right to control them. They’re their own person. You’re the one who needs to back the hell off.”

Geo’s fists collided with Sol with a brutal force that made your stomach churn. You watched in stunned silence as Geo moved with precision and anger, his strikes landing one after another. 

Sol, once so confident, was now crumpled on the floor, his face swollen and bruising almost immediately. A deep purple and blue marred his features, his lip split and his cheek reddened from the force of the blows.

He tried to get up, and retaliate, however Geo’s rage was unstoppable. Sol was no match for him now, not when the fury in Geo’s eyes burned like a wildfire.

Geo didn’t even give him a moment to breathe. T-T

With each punch, the sound of their struggle echoed throughout the room. And when it was finally over, when Sol lay crumpled on the ground, barely able to move, Geo stood over him, chest heaving with the exertion of the fight. His fists were bloodied, but his gaze never wavered from Sol, whose body remained limp on the floor, groaning in pain.

Geo didn’t seem to care.

After a long, tense pause, Geo finally backed away, his hands shaking but his expression cold and controlled. He didn’t say a word, just took one last look at Sol—who was too beaten to even raise his head—and turned toward the door. He walked out with a calmness that betrayed the chaos that had just unfolded. 

The fight had been fast, efficient, and brutal, and now it was over.

You stood there, frozen, trying to process the madness of the situation. The intensity of everything—Geo’s rage, Sol’s obsession, the violence—made your head spin. None of this was supposed to happen. This wasn’t the outcome you imagined when you first started this twisted game. 

You just wanted to see how far it would go, how much each of them would fight for your attention, for your love—not actually fighting for real, for whatever the hell it was they were after. Oh yeah, you...

But like you had no idea it would spiral into this.

Now, you were sitting in a private room at the police station, the air thick with tension. The officers sat across from you and Geo, their eyes focused on the both of you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to speak. Your mouth felt dry, your thoughts a jumbled mess. 

You didn’t know how to explain what had happened, how it all went wrong. It was too much. 

Too fast. 

You didn’t have the words.

The room was silent except for the low hum of fluorescent lights above, the officers waiting for some kind of answer, some kind of explanation. But you couldn’t give them that. You couldn’t even explain it to yourself. Your mind was racing, trying to make sense of everything. 

The fact that it all started with some stupid game—a game to see which of the two would get jealous first—felt utterly ridiculous now. It was supposed to be harmless. You didn’t think it would turn into something this twisted.

But here you were, sitting next to Geo, whose face was unreadable. His expression was as cold and detached as ever, but you could feel the weight of the situation pressing down on him, too. His knuckles were bruised, his chest rising and fell with each deep breath. He didn’t regret what he’d done, and part of you couldn’t blame him. 

Sol had crossed too many lines. 

But it didn’t make it any easier to process.

You shifted in your seat, avoiding the officers' eyes, your mind spiraling out of control. You wanted to say something, wanted to explain it all, but the words wouldn’t come. 

Everything felt so... out of place. 

The fight between Geo and Sol had been violent and unnecessary, yet somehow, it felt inevitable. 

This was what it had come to. You had pushed it, tested the boundaries, and now the damage was done.

The officers exchanged glances, their patience wearing thin just by looking at you. They know you were holding some information back, but you didn’t have the proper answers they were looking for.

How could you? Like its very much embarrassing to say, 'Hey I was two-timing these dudes and this led to them fighting,' that isn't the full truth but that's how they would sum it up in the file report.

Like you didn't expect things to get so out of hand. You didn't expect Geo to beat Sol into the fucking ground or why Sol had become so obsessed with you in the first place.

You were so over everything at this point.

“Please,” one of the officers finally spoke, his voice gentle but firm. “Can you tell us what happened here? What led up to this?”

You hated how weak you felt, how lost. You couldn’t explain it.

You couldn’t even explain to yourself how you had allowed this to happen. The moment you’d let your curiosity get the better of you—this was the result.

You just shook your head, the overwhelming sense of regret and guilt crushing you. You didn’t have the answers. 

No—you didn't want to answer.

And even if you could, they wouldn’t make this any easier to process.

Geo’s eyes remained fixed on you, his usual cold demeanor softened by something you couldn't quite place. It wasn’t pity—at least, not the kind of pity that made you feel small—but it was something else. He wasn’t angry. He wasn’t frustrated. 

He was just... there.

When the officers started to ask more questions, Geo spoke up, his voice surprisingly calm as he interjected.

"Look he put his hands on them. And I just stepped in to stop him." His tone didn’t leave room for debate, his usual sharpness replaced by something quieter, more protective. "I don't have a clue why he's so... obsessed with them, but what's done is done. You have him arrested for assault, sexual harrsment and etc. What more do you?"

The officers froze at Geo's words, he didn't say much at the start—perhaps he could tell you were sitting at a police station for like three hours now and all you wanted was to leave.

"You have all the evidence. That enough. We'll leave now."

The officers exchanged a look, but they didn’t argue. They nodded, acknowledging Geo’s request, and you could hear the soft scrape of the chair as one of them stood up. As you left the station, the weight of everything that had happened crashed down on you like a flood.

It was all too much.

You didn’t speak on the way back to your dorm. The car ride was silent except for the faint hum of the engine, and every minute felt like it stretched on forever. You didn’t know what to say to Geo, didn’t know what to say to yourself.

You were lost—dazed, even. What had you done?

Everything had spiraled so far out of control that you couldn’t even find the starting point anymore.

When the car finally pulled up to your building, you didn’t even wait for Geo to open the door. You got out quickly, the silence between you both louder than anything. You didn’t even feel like you had the energy to say goodbye. You just wanted to retreat, to disappear.

You made your way up to your single studio apartment, the familiar surroundings almost too much. The kitchen passed in a blur as you shuffled into your small, cramped living space. You threw your bag on the floor with a dull thud before collapsing face-first onto your bed. You didn’t even bother pulling the covers over you.

You just lay there, unmoving.

Geo stood in the doorway—guessing that he followed you. Wait, you checked him in at the desk, right? Anyway, watching you. The door clicked shut behind him, but he didn’t approach.

He knew better than that. There was something almost resigned in the way he stood, his hands in his pockets as he regarded you.

"I ordered food for you," he said, his voice quiet, almost a whisper, like he didn’t want to disturb the fragile silence that had settled between you. "...I'll stay. If you’re scared, like if that's what you need."

You didn’t respond. 

The weight of everything felt like it was suffocating you, and you didn’t have the words to explain it—not to him, not to anyone.

You felt stuck like the ground beneath you had turned to quicksand. The guilt gnawed at you, but the numbness in your chest was worse. You wanted to feel something—anything—but all you could muster was a hollow emptiness that made your heartache.

You heard Geo’s quiet footsteps echo in the room as he carefully took off his shoes and placed them by the door. It was such a small thing, however the gesture felt oddly intimate like he was respecting some unspoken boundary. 

He stood there for a moment, looking at you, before he made his way over to the edge of your bed. You watched him, feeling a strange mix of relief and discomfort, as he knelt in front of you, his back straight and his posture solid.

You clutched the pillow tighter, a weak shield against the confusion that was swirling inside your head. You didn’t know what you needed right now. You didn’t know if you wanted him to say something, or if you just needed the silence. You wanted so badly to scream at the chaos in your life, but the exhaustion had drained all the energy from your body.

Geo glanced down at your bed, then back at you, a slight frown pulling at his features. “I don’t want to sit on your bed,” he said, his voice soft but steady. “I’ve been outside. You shouldn’t be either, you're covered in germs,”

Suddenly, the absurdity of the situation hit you.

The idea of Geo being so considerate after everything that had happened between you two made something inside you crack. You let out a small laugh, a soft chuckle that bubbled up from nowhere as the tension in your chest finally found a way to escape. 

Geo froze, his brow furrowing in surprise as he processed the sound. “What...?” His voice trailed off, confused. He hadn’t expected it, clearly.

You shook your head, trying to stifle another laugh. “It’s just... you’re so serious sometimes,” you muttered, shaking your head again, trying to collect yourself. “Like, we’re in the middle of all this... shit, and you’re worried about sitting on my bed? It’s just funny.”

“Are you okay?” he asked, the question heavy with something more than just casual curiosity. He wasn’t asking to pry—he was asking. After all, he cared—in his own way, because he wanted to know if you were all right, even though everything around you was in pieces.

You hesitated, your chest tightening as you tried to push past the numbness, to find the words that would make sense of the chaos inside you. It wasn’t easy. You felt like you were wading through a thick fog, unable to see the shore, unable to find your way out.

You didn’t know what to say. 

You didn’t even know what you wanted anymore.

“I don’t know anymore,” you whispered with a dry laugh, your voice barely audible as the weight of everything hit you all at once. 

Geo sighed, and he stayed where he was, kneeling in front of you. He just watched you, waiting for you to find the words, letting you process everything at your own pace. The silence stretched on, thick and heavy, but somehow it was comforting. 

You exhaled sharply, leaning back against the bed, clutching the pillow in your arms like it could somehow anchor you to the present.

“I don’t know when it all got so messy," you began, your voice unsteady, the words tumbling out in a rush like you were trying to explain something to yourself as much as to him. “It all started because… I wanted to see who was more jealous, you or Sol. It was stupid, I know. I thought I could handle it, keep it all under control. I thought I could play this game and walk away without getting caught up in it.”

You paused for a second, feeling your pulse quicken as you tried to make sense of everything, but the more you spoke, the harder it became to breathe. The confession felt like it was suffocating you, but you couldn’t stop.

“You know how it is. Just a stupid game. I thought I could just sit back, watch the both of you get all worked up, and have a laugh. But it... It didn’t go the way I expected. I didn’t expect to care. Not about him—not about Sol, I mean. And sure as hell not about you.”

You laughed bitterly, shaking your head as you glanced at Geo, unsure of what exactly you were trying to say. But the confusion, the mess in your head, only seemed to spill out more the longer you spoke.

"I was trying to keep control. You know, like always. But the more I played this game—god, the more it twisted everything around. I started getting feelings. First, it was just... Sol, and I thought I could push it aside. But then... it was you."

You stopped, your voice faltering. “I didn’t think I could get feelings for you, not after everything. You’ve got your own shit going on, and so do I, but here I am. And I’m not sure who’s worse. Me, for getting this deep, or you for dealing with me through all of it.”

Geo didn’t interrupt, though you could see the way his jaw tightened, the way his fingers curled into a fist for just a moment before he relaxed them. His eyes were on you, unwavering, and it only made the confession feel like it was digging a hole deeper inside your chest.

"You can judge me for it. I don’t blame you if you do. You always do," The words came out bitter, almost accusing, like you were daring him to reject you, to call you out for being weak.

"I don’t know what I’m doing anymore, Geo. I don’t know what the hell I’m supposed to feel. This whole thing was supposed to be a game, a stupid little test to see who cared more, but here I am—lost. And I don’t know how to fix it."

Your throat felt tight as you swallowed down the question clawing its way up. But eventually, the words spilled out before you could stop them.  

“Do you… do you hate me?”  

For a moment, there was only silence. Thick. Heavy. Unforgiving.  

You didn’t look at him—couldn’t. You were too afraid of what you’d see in his face. Fear? Disgust? Or something worse?  

Geo didn’t answer right away. Instead, his gaze flickered away, shifting toward the floor, his jaw tightening just enough for you to notice. He wasn’t one to hesitate, wasn’t one to falter, and yet, here he was—pausing.  

The silence stretched, each second pulling at your nerves like frayed threads.  

Then, finally, he exhaled, slow and measured, before looking back at you. His expression wasn’t cold, but there was something guarded about it, something that made your chest ache.  

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” he admitted, voice quieter than before. “If you’re asking whether I’m pissed? Yeah. That game you played was soo shitty and wrong. But If you’re asking if I regret meeting and talking to you...”  

He sighed, looking away, "No. I don't."

Your breath caught by your lip, eyes widened as you lifted your body to look at him.

“Like hating you?” He shook his head, the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I couldn’t even if I tried. And trust me, I've tried.”  

He shifted near you again, the weight of his presence steady, grounding. And despite everything—the chaos, the mistakes, the games you played—you found yourself leaning just a little closer.  

Your lips parted, the question forming before you could stop it. “Then...”  

He hummed, his gaze steady on you.  

“Do you… like me?” The words left your mouth before you could second-guess them, before you could convince yourself to let it go. You already felt exposed enough, but if you were drowning, you weren’t going to do it alone.  

Geo didn’t flinch, but you saw the way his jaw tensed ever so slightly. That careful mask of his wavered just for a fraction of a second. Then, like clockwork, his face turned slightly red—shocking…

“I like a lot of things,” he said smoothly, stretching his arms above his head, his voice full of deflection. “My time. Plants, archery...”  

You narrowed your eyes, not amused. “Geo.”  

He sighed through his nose, gaze flicking away for a brief moment before locking back onto you. “And maybe you talk too much.”  

You let out a sharp breath, shaking your head. “That’s not an answer.”  

“It’s the only one you’re getting.”  

You stared at him, frustration bubbling beneath your skin. He was doing this on purpose, keeping things just vague enough to avoid saying anything real. You wanted to pry it out of him, force him to admit it, but at the same time…  

Geo wasn’t the kind of person you could force anything out of.

He’d say what he wanted when he wanted.

That was just who he was at this damn point.

You let out a sigh, something between acceptance and resignation. “Fine. Be stubborn.” You turned your body slightly, facing him fully. “But I don’t need to hear it. I already know.”  

Then, before he could react, you jumped forward, wrapping your arms around his neck, and pulling him close in a tight embrace. Geo stiffened for a moment, caught off guard, but he didn’t push you away. Instead, you felt his arms slowly wrap around your waist, holding you steady, his warmth grounding you in ways you hadn’t expected.  

Then, before you could stop yourself, you kissed him.  

It was quick at first, just a light brush of your lips against his, testing the waters. But the second you felt him respond, his lips pressing against yours just as gently, something inside you caved.  

The kiss deepened, slow and careful, neither of you rushing, just feeling. His hands stayed light on your waist, not pulling, not taking—just holding. Like he was afraid of breaking the moment, of breaking you.  

Your fingers curled into the fabric of his hoodie, pulling him closer. Geo’s breath hitched slightly before he tilted his head, his lips moving against yours with more certainty now, but never rough, never greedy.  

It was nothing like the game you had been playing before—nothing like what had happened with Sol. This wasn’t about control, about jealousy, about winning. 

It was just real.  

You pulled away first, your forehead resting against his, your breathing slightly uneven. Geo’s hands were still resting on your waist, his thumbs absently brushing against the fabric of your shirt.  

For a moment, you just stared at each other, the room feeling quieter than it had before.  

Then, suddenly, Geo pulled back, reaching into his pocket and checking his phone. He sighed dramatically. “Well, that was good timing.”  

You blinked, still dazed. “What?”  

He held up his phone, showing you the screen. “Food’s here.”  

You let out a surprised laugh, shaking your head. “Are you serious?”  

“Dead serious.” He stood up, stretching before glancing down at you. “Unless you wanna keep making out and let the delivery guy starve outside.”  

You rolled your eyes, a small smile pulling at your lips despite everything. “Go get the damn food, Geo.”  

He gave you one last look—something soft, unreadable—before turning toward the door. And even as he left, you could still feel the ghost of his lips on yours, the warmth of his touch lingering on your skin.  

For once, you weren’t overthinking; he's yours.

[animasola86]

LOST & FOUND 🫂 CH1

Sometimes, Mommy and Daddy don't see eye to eye with how they handle their little girl: you. After Mommy disciplines you for a clumsy mistake and its aftermath, Daddy comes to comfort you, and you show him just how thankful you are.

soft!Daddy!dom x Mommy!domme x little girl!reader

WARNINGS: F!Reader insert. NSFW! Explicit sexual content! Dd/Md/lg dynamics, Daddy/Mommy kink. Age gap. Size difference. Pet names. Love triangle. Hurt/Comfort. Implied caning. Aftercare. Cock worship. Oral sex, deepthroating attempt. Hand job. Dry humping. Fluff. (More notes below the cut!)

WORDS: 7k 🔷️ READ ON AO3 🔷️ 1–2–3–4–5–6 7–8–9–10–11–12

A/N: Reader (we call her pumpkin) is in her 20s, Mommy and Daddy are in their early and late thirties. Everything's more or less consensual. There's a bit of backstory for Reader (who basically suffers from depression and anxiety), but other than that, she's pretty neutral (only attributes she has are: hair long enough to braid and female genitalia, and she's bisexual or at least bi-curious, and leans more to the submissive side of things). Also this may not be your typical little girl story as I'm not that much into ageplay, so this will be a wild mix of different elements of the Dd/lg dynamic with a good dose of Dom/sub, a bit of the Good cop/Bad cop trope (Daddy being the soft!Dom, while Mommy has a darker side), lots of F/F and F/M (and F/F/M) intimacies, and more. If you're open for anything, this may be a story for you! (READ THIS if you're curious/wondering about the tags I listed this under!)

🔷️ Chapter 1 🔷️ Chapter 2

You toss and turn in your bed, unable to find a comfortable position. Your butt hurts, as red and tight as it is, but you try to fight any new batch of tears that comes when you think back to how you got into this predicament. The worst part is the disappointment crashing through you, the anger at yourself, for not being a good girl.

Before you can fall deeper into your dark thoughts, your bedroom door opens. You stiffen, holding your breath, biting your lip as you listen intently. The door shuts again, before footsteps come closer. But as soon as the edge of your bed dips by someone sitting down, you turn around and pull the covers down, chewing on your bottom lip as you look up at the figure leaning over you, his big frame illuminated by the little night light on your bedside table.

“How's my baby girl?” His low voice immediately calms you, and you wriggle out from under your blanket to sit up and throw your arms around the tall man's neck. He catches you and holds you tightly, sighing deeply. “Mommy told me she had to discipline you today. She got you good, hm?”

You hum into his shoulder. “But I deserved it...” you mumble under your breath, clinging to him desperately, ignoring the sting of your bruised buttocks as you squirm on your knees.

“Yeah? What did you do?” he asks quietly, rubbing his large hand over your back.

“I... I made cookies,” you stammer, inhaling deeply, before the words just tumble out of you with haste. “But when I... when I wanted to pull them out of the oven, I tripped and dropped them and then... then... the tray fell onto the counter and... and smashed one of Mommy's herb pots. There was such a mess...”

“Oh pumpkin,” he sighs, squeezing you a little more. “That was just bad luck, wasn't it?”

“Yeah... I... I didn't mean to do that! You gotta believe me, Daddy!” you mumble, still holding onto him and hiding against his neck.

“I do, baby girl. But we gotta work on your clumsiness. You gotta be more careful, okay?”

You nod against him, chewing on the inside of your cheek.

“Say it.”

“I... I will be more careful. I promise,” you say quietly. “I never wanna see Mommy so angry again...”

A hum escapes him. “What did she give you?”

You squirm on your knees, rubbing against him to keep your butt from touching your heels. “Twenty hits...”

“With what?”

A shiver crashes through you. “The cane.”

“Oh sweetie, I'm sorry,” he tells you, hugging you tighter, one of his hands moving lower until he teases at your burning cheeks. “That sounds a bit excessive for a simple act of clumsiness. I guess I gotta talk to Mommy, hm?”

“No! It's okay, Daddy! Don't fight with her, please. I deserved it, it's okay. I took it like a big girl, she said so,” you say quickly, finally leaning back to look up at him, your hands kneading his wide shoulders. He gives you a warm smile, caressing the back of your head with the hand that's not palming at your ass.

“I'm sure you did, pumpkin. Can I see?” he then asks, tilting his head at you.

You bite your lip, but nod quickly. Climbing off his lap, you get off the bed and pull your oversized sleeping shirt over your head before you bend down, leaning on your hands, showing him your welted backside (it hurt too much to put on panties, so you just left them). He stands too and walks behind you, his hands moving along your hips before you feel his fingertips along the red lines covering your rear.

“She must have really loved that herb pot, huh?” he muses, and you flinch badly when he presses his palm against your left ass cheek, your blood thrumming just beneath the surface, warming even more under his touch. “This is too much,” he adds under his breath. “I'd given you five, max, and definitely not with the cane...”

He then grabs your waist and pulls you back up, slowly turning you around, watching you closely. “Did you clean up after yourself?”

You nod furiously. “Of course, Daddy. I cleaned the whole kitchen. I was sad about the cookies... I made them for you, you know, your favorite kind? But I had to throw them away because there was dirt all over them...”

Warmth floods his dark eyes, and he leans in to pull you against his chest. “You'll make another batch, don't worry,” he says soothingly.

You hug him tightly, pressing your whole body into his. “I'm sorry I wasted so much stuff. I guess that's also why Mommy was so furious... I did such a mess and nothing came out of it...”

“Stop,” he says sternly, leaning you back by your shoulders. His eyes bore into yours. You swallow thickly. “You received your punishment. It's done. You will not cry about spilled milk, do you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” you whisper, biting your bottom lip. He raises an eyebrow, and you stop the nervous motion, pressing your lips together.

“What did you learn from this?”

“I... I should be more careful. I will not waste any food. I will ask for help if I can't do something on my own. I... I shouldn't get overwhelmed and make an even bigger mess...” you add in a breathy whisper. He nods to your words, a small smile playing around his lips.

You stare at him for a moment, mesmerized by his handsome face. There's a dimple on his cheek as the smile deepens, and creases in the corners of his eyes as he watches you. He's so pretty, you think as you feel a familiar tension settling in your lower stomach. I'm so lucky he's here for me.

“So you made me cookies, pumpkin?” he whispers as he crouches down in front of you, his hands rubbing along your arms until he grabs your hands and cradles them in his large palms. You nod, smiling shyly. “The ones with peanut butter?” You nod again, your smile growing bigger. He smirks at you. “The ones Mommy hates and can't eat?”

You freeze, your smile vanishing instantly. Your lips move to form a silent Oh. He leans in and brushes his lips to your forehead. “I... I forgot...” you mumble, feeling tears burn in your eyes.

“Might explain why she was so angry, hm?” he muses, shuffling closer until he can throw his arms around your shoulders and pull you against him. “Don't worry about it, baby girl, she'll calm down again. I'll talk to her. Maybe there was more afoot than meets the eye.”

You hug him back slowly, unable to hide the tears anymore as a quiet sob escapes you. He shushes you, rubbing your back. “I'm sorry, Daddy. I never meant to cause trouble...”

“I know you didn't, baby,” he says quietly. “You've been such a good girl for us, since the day you moved in. You adjusted so well. I'm really proud of you, you know?”

Another sob slips from your trembling lips, and you try to hide it by burying your face in his chest. He holds you tighter, a deep sigh ringing in your ears. “C-can you –” you start, your voice breaking mid-question.

“Hm?”

“Can you stay here tonight?” you ask quietly, your heart beating faster.

“Are you sure, pumpkin? Won't you be in pain?” he whispers, moving his hand along the back of your head, tangling his long fingers in your hair.

“It'll be better when you're here,” you reply, leaning against him. “But... but I understand if you... if you don't want to... or... or if Mommy asked first...”

“She didn't,” he says. “But I gotta talk to her first. We don't want to disrupt her punishment, right, darling? If I stay here, she might see that as a reward you don't deserve.”

“You... you could... you know...” you stammer, your cheeks burning up badly as you cling to him, your heart beating even faster as you try to word your wishes.

“What, baby girl? Use your words.”

“You... you don't have to be gentle with me, you know? You could punish me too. For... for not giving you the cookies I promised you...”

A laugh rings in your ears. “But you never promised me anything. I can't be mad if a surprise you planned didn't work out, can I? And you know, if you ask for punishment... that's not really punishment after all. Is it, pumpkin?”

“No,” you mutter, pressing your forehead into his shoulder. “I guess not...”

“Unless you want me to punish you for being too needy. Are you too needy, sweet girl?” he asks quietly, slowly letting go of you.

When you meet his gaze, your face is flushed, your stomach tense, that throb between your legs almost as bad as the stinging in your tight butt cheeks. “Maybe...” you press out, chewing on your lips.

His smile turns slightly more sinister at your reply. You watch him lick his lips, a motion that holds you captive for a moment, before he leans in and grabs your upper arms.

“Tell me why you're here,” he then says, his eyes never leaving yours.

You swallow, wet your suddenly dry lips. “B-because I... because I needed a Daddy... and a... Mommy... someone to tell me what to do... someone to help me... someone to be there for me... so I'm not alone...”

He listens closely, his hands tightening around your biceps. “And what did we want in return, baby girl?”

“Me... whenever you want... however you want...” you whisper, barely audible as you stare back at him, your mind already emptying as you repeat the words he drilled into you.

Letting go of your arms, he stands up again, towering over you as he nods slightly. “We gave you a home, you gave us your body. Is that a good deal, baby?”

You frown slightly, licking your lips. “Yes?” you whisper, not sure what he wants to hear from you.

His eyes narrow a little. Your mind is reeling as you watch him, before you fall to your knees in front of him, your hands holding onto the stiff fabric of his pants as you tilt your head back to look up at him.

“Yes, Daddy, it's a good deal. I wanna make you feel good because you make me feel good. I wanna be a good girl for you, and for Mommy, because you've been so good to me. I... I will not be needy, only when you want me to be.”

As you stumble over your words, his eyes move over your flushed face. He listens patiently, and by the end of your ramble, he's smiling down at you.

“Get up,” he says softly, holding out his large hand to you.

You grab it, or rather close your hand around his index finger as you pull yourself up. He's so tall and big, so strong, intimidating, and yet you feel safe just looking at him. His free hand finds your cheek, his thumb pressing down on your bottom lip.

“Listen up, kid,” he starts, and you nod, holding his gaze as you part your lips and let him put his digit on your tongue. “I will not spend the night with you. No, don't pout, listen. But I want you to come to us later tonight and give your Mommy a good time, okay? She'll appreciate it if you show a little initiative. And if you've been a good girl, I'll give you a reward too, how does that sound?”

You smile around his thumb in your mouth, nodding enthusiastically. He pulls it from between your tight lips and raises his eyebrows. “Yes, Daddy, I'll do that. I'll be your good girl. I'll give Mommy a good time,” you whisper hectically.

He gives you a soft pat to the cheek, before he takes a step back and looks you up and down for a moment, his eyes raking over your naked body. You've long overcome the embarrassment of being in the nude around him (or Mommy). It feels natural now.

“I really don't like it when Mommy is mad at you, pumpkin,” he says quietly, silently giving you a sign to turn around. You do, holding his gaze for as long as you can before you spin slowly and present your backside to him once more. “I had plans for tonight. But maybe I can still make them happen, hm?”

You feel him walking closer, his hands on your shoulders, his short fingernails scraping over your skin as they move down your spine, leaving goosebumps in their wake. His breath ghosts your shoulder blade as he crouches down behind you, causing you to shiver. You squeeze your thighs together and hold your breath, trying to show him how absolutely not needy you are. You probably fail miserably. He can always see right through you.

A sudden yelp escapes you when his hand comes into contact with your bruised ass cheek, a soft slap that brings the pain back under your skin. You whimper, trying to remain calm as you stand there for his inspection. “I really don't know why Mommy is so fixated on using the cane. I don't like seeing you like this, baby girl. Did she make you come while she did it?”

“No,” you breathe, your head spinning as you squeeze your eyes shut.

“Hmm,” he hums darkly, his big hands gently cupping your glutes, giving them a subtle squeeze. “Do you want to come now?”

Your breath hitches, but you see through his question immediately. You weren't always that quick about it. “No, Daddy, I don't deserve it, I haven't been a good girl,” you reply quietly, your hands clenching into fists at your sides.

He traces the throbbing lines on your ass, making you squirm against his touch. “Too bad,” he sighs, his fingers teasing between your cheeks, giving both of your holes a little prod that really makes you fight not to react. “Did she give you something to put on here?” he then asks, his hands moving down your legs now.

“No,” you whisper through clenched teeth. “She said it didn't look too bad, and the blows weren't that hard to begin with. And there was no blood...”

He sighs again, standing up, and before you know it, he turns you around, grabs your waist and flings you over his shoulder. You squeak in surprise, your hair falling over your head as you cling desperately to the back of his shirt. His large hand holding onto your calves, he carries you into your ensuite bathroom and rummages through the medicine cabinet above the sink.

“I swear, this woman has a scar kink,” he mutters darkly, more to himself, before he gives your thighs a gentle rub. “Nothing warrants permanent damage to your beautiful skin, pumpkin,” he tells you quietly as he moves out of the bathroom again.

He puts you down carefully, then sits down on the edge of your bed, patting his lap. You follow the hint quickly and drape yourself over his thighs, stomach pressing into his leg as you brace yourself. “But she said –”

“She definitely broke your skin a few times, baby, she wasn't perfectly honest with you. I really need to talk to her, this isn't acceptable. Hold still now,” he says, and you feel him fumbling with something before his hands move over your warm butt cheeks. At first it's cold, then it stings, and you suck in a sharp breath as you claw your hands into his pants, a little whimper escaping you.

He keeps rubbing whatever ointment he found onto your bruised skin, and once he's done, your head is spinning and a few tears have rolled down your cheeks. But you've endured, like the big girl you are. He pulls you onto your feet then, watching you closely before he wipes at your wet face.

“How about you get a good night's sleep now, hm, sweetheart?” he says softly, giving you a small smile as you scrunch your nose when he boops it playfully. “Let's push our plan to tomorrow. You can surprise Mommy then, okay? I'll help you make breakfast, and then you'll give her a good time. Remember, she is not a bad person, even if she has her weak moments. I'll find out what bugged her today, don't worry. Trust me, it was not your fault,” he adds, cupping your face to pull you closer to him.

You chew on your bottom lip, watching him. “But –”

He clicks his tongue and shakes his head. You freeze and blink at him, more tears burning in your eyes. “You dropped some cookies and smashed some plants, baby, that doesn't justify twenty cane hits. She was taking something out on you, and that's not right. Stop worrying now, okay, darling?”

You sniffle, nodding to his words. Moving one hand to your lower back, he nudges you closer until he can press his lips to your forehead. Your fingers twitch before you find the courage to grab the front of his shirt, leaning against him. “Are you mad at her?” you mumble as he pulls one arm around you.

“Well, maybe a little. But don't worry your pretty little head, sweetie, you know we have our ways of dealing with pent-up emotions.”

His reply sends a shiver down your spine. Oh you know that, you've heard it many times, how they deal with stress and anger. If you wouldn't get out-of-your-mind aroused by the noises coming from their shared bedroom, you'd be terrified by them. You remember watching them once, unintentionally, but they did leave the door open, and what you saw still haunts you in your dreams sometimes.

They can play rough with you too, but how they treat each other (when they think nobody is watching) is really something you don't want to experience first-hand, ever. It's brutal, but it does seem to calm them in the end. It's a strange dynamic, but you've known that since you moved in with them so many months ago.

Before you can think back to how it all started, you feel a big hand grabbing your chin, making you look up. You meet Daddy's dark eyes, the intensity in them making you squirm immediately as your core starts throbbing even more. You blink a few times, focusing back on him.

“How do you feel now, pumpkin?” he asks quietly, watching you closely.

“Better,” you whisper back, smiling shyly. “Thank you, Daddy.”

A smirk lets the corner of his mouth twitch. “You wanna show Daddy how thankful you are?”

Heat crashes into your face. Averting your eyes for a moment, you nod timidly, your fingers playing with the buttons of his shirt. “C-can you... uh... can you lie down for it, Daddy?” you ask barely audible, still not looking at him.

He considers your request. You know he prefers to have you on your knees in front of him, but since he knows about the pain in your butt, he seems to accept your words. Well, in his way. “Look at me,” he tells you. “Look at me and tell me what you want to do.”

You swallow hard, inhaling deeply, before you look at him, immediately mesmerized by the hunger in his eyes. “I... I want to show you... how thankful I am... by... by...” You bite your lip, frowning, fighting against voicing the things you have no problem doing, but putting them into words, saying them out loud, is still not easy for you.

“Come on, baby, use your words.” His voice is calm and comforting, never condescending, but you still feel a tight knot forming in your stomach.

You exhale loudly through your nose, blinking, your eyes flicking over his face. “I... I wanna showyouhowthankful Iambysuckin'yourcock,” you press out, your words fast and barely coherent.

The grip on your chin tightens, his thumb and forefinger pressing into your jaw. “Again, slower. No need to be ashamed, pumpkin. It's completely natural. Just say the words, I know you can do it.”

You swallow again, furrowing your eyebrows as you look at him. “I want to... no, I'd like to... suck your –” You inhale deeply. “– cock, Daddy, because... because I am really thankful that you are... here for me...” Your voice is still quiet, but you get the words out, and even though your cheeks burn up badly, you feel some sort of accomplishment when he nods and smiles at you.

“Good girl,” he praises and stands up, letting go of you, and you smile back shyly. “Alright, let me get comfortable then, hm?”

You watch him opening his belt, his long fingers moving lower to continue on the button and zipper with ease and confidence. He winks at you when he pushes his pants down his hips and steps out of them (his dark boxer briefs doing absolutely nothing to hide the obvious bulge), before he pulls his shirt over his head and sits down on the bed, scooting back to the headboard, his long legs stretched out. Tilting his head, he gives you a gentle nod, and you follow him immediately, crawling between his legs, trying to keep the pressure off the tight skin of your ass.

He crooks a finger at you, smiling wider, and before you focus on the task at hand, you clamber over him and bring your face to his. He grabs your chin and pulls you the rest of the way, pressing his lips firmly against yours, his eyes hooded but still as intense as he watches you. When he licks at the seam of your mouth, you open it and let his tongue in, quickly meeting it with your own as he deepens the kiss. Your eyelids flutter, as does your stomach, and the more you feel his warm mouth on yours, the calmer you get, ready to take on what lies ahead.

Not that you dread it. On the contrary. You meant it when you said you wanted to. Since you moved in with Mommy and Daddy, you've learned two very fool-proof ways of shutting your nagging mind off: one – by giving up complete control when either (or both) of them uses you, and two – by focusing all your energy on the pleasure of someone else. It's a strange thrill knowing that it was your mouth and hands (and body) that brought them to their peak. Seeing that relaxed expression, the bliss in their eyes, the little noises they issue, it's a joy in and of itself.

While you don't particularly care if you have a cock in your mouth or your tongue in a cunt, you do prefer hearing Daddy's noises. Mommy is never shy to scream it into the heavens when she is satisfied, Daddy usually keeps to himself, always focused on you (or Mommy), he would grunt and groan, sure, issuing sounds of effort when he'd fuck you (or Mommy) senseless, but when you give him head, when he relaxes into your ministrations, he really lets go, letting it all out, and hearing him moan while you work on his cock is the best thing ever.

The only thing that bugs you about this very special task that only you are allowed to perform on him (mainly because Mommy would probably bite off his dick instead of pleasuring him, she is rough like that), is that Daddy's cock is huge. In your eyes, anyway, maybe your mouth is also very small, but in comparison to the few dicks you've seen in the flesh in your life, he is definitely very well-endowed. And the problem with that is that you can't fit all of him into your mouth, or even down your throat, like you always try but are never able to.

Whenever you'd watch porn with him or Mommy, you find yourself getting envious of the women being able to deepthroat any cock they've encountered, mostly even without gagging, while you feel like you are dying when he is just bumping the back of your throat. You want to make him happy, because he makes you happy, but you've still failed many times. Though despite it all, you've kept going, learning to pleasure him with the means you are given, knowing it'd impress him all the same.

He's been so patient with you, letting you get accustomed with his cock, letting you try things out, soothing you when you thought you failed, encouraging you when you almost had it. It's the praise and the smell and feel and taste of his cock that makes you continue on your journey to become the best cocksucker this man has ever seen. And you'd bet that list is very long, and getting to the top surely feels like mastering a craft you have barely any experience in.

But he taught you to never give up, not just in sexual aspects, but in life. You owe him so much. It seems a small task to fight that gag reflex over and over again. And if you still manage to get him off and hear those sweet moans, it is all worth it anyway.

It's you who has to force yourself away from Daddy's lips and focus on what's waiting for you further below. He watches you as you brush your lips down his neck and over his collarbones, focusing on peppering small kisses on his pecs, relishing in the little shivers you cause by flicking your tongue around his nipples. You keep looking up at him from under your lashes, wanting to see all the small reactions, and when he shoots you a smile, one that goes straight to your throbbing cunt, you smile back shyly and keep kissing down his stomach.

It's always a pleasure to just explore his body like this, taking your time, letting him watch, and him letting you do whatever you want. The trust you developed in just a few months is remarkable. But he (and Mommy) have made it so easy for you to let go, to let things happen, to be bold enough to chase what you desire. It wasn't always easy to voice it, but sometimes actions spoke louder than words, and they both accepted that about you. (Mostly. Daddy still often trains you like he did earlier.)

Inhaling deeply, you finally focus fully on your self-proclaimed want, trying to shut out thoughts and memories, being in the moment. It's easy enough once you reach the trail of coarse hair vanishing under the soft fabric of his boxer briefs. There you linger a little longer, lips pressed to his warm skin, tingling under the scratch, his scent filling your nostrils. It's certainly a strange thing to admit, but one of your happy/safe places is indeed his crotch.

Months ago you were not even aware of having an oral fixation, but it quickly came to you how calm you became once you could suck on a thumb or had fingers in your mouth, or best case scenario could suckle on a cock for hours on end. It was mostly Daddy who gave you that peace of mind because it was so easy for you to let go with him, to let your guard down, to forget about the world.

It had been embarrassing at first, noticing your body's reactions (mostly how your saliva pooled on your tongue, how you literally started drooling as if you were a hungry dog), but now you embraced it. Licking your lips, trying to contain the need burning under your skin, you move your hands to hook your fingers around the waistband of his underwear, looking up once more before you're going to dive in. He gives you an encouraging nod, one of his arms bent behind his head, the other hand resting casually on his thigh.

Then you peel the last layer away, pushing his boxers down enough to let his cock spring free. An intimidating sight that couldn't be more intriguing to you. Your mind is already emptying, focused on the smell and feel and soon taste of him, your heart beating faster as your core throbs in anticipation. Your hands, so small, try to wrap around his shaft, picking him up. He's heavy in your grip, warm and already hardening.

You shift back on your knees, still aware of the burning skin on your rear, and lean down more to bring your lips to his tip. A few flicks of your tongue and he's already twitching into your hands, a deep inhale sounding from above. You smile against his cock as you press soft kisses along his shaft, moving your hands down to the base, one squeezing a little, the other pulling his underwear down more to get to his balls.

You give them a gentle massage, eager fingers digging into soft skin as you roll them in your palm (like stress balls, how Mommy once said when she taught you how to handle him correctly), while you continue to kiss and lick along his length, from the base all the way up to the tip. Bending over him, you focus your lips to the slit at the top, poking your tongue against it, giving it a little suck while your hands move back to push his tight skin up and down his hardened core.

His breathing gets a little louder, still no moans, but you'll get him there, and when you look up at him with your lips closed tightly around his tip, you see the focused look in his eyes, his holding-back face, and you smirk to yourself as you give him another suck and prod, watching the muscle in his jaw clench. As caring and easy-going as Daddy is with you, he is usually a serious man, hard working and intimidating, both in stature and demeanor, dominating in a way that silences the entire room, but when you have your mouth on him, that facade he tries to keep up is quickly crumbling.

And you revel in the power you have over this handsome, stoic man. You are his little girl after all, and that role quickly became exactly what you needed to be in life. It gave you strength and a purpose, knowing that he and Mommy both found comfort and peace in being with you, cuddling you, kissing you, fucking you. And it wasn't even that sexual in nature, not all the time, it was also freeing to let them dress you, brush your hair, to do what they told you.

It gave you time to explore yourself, what you wanted in life (beside being their little girl), and while you spend most of your time with them, in the few hours you are alone, you try out and explore as many hobbies as you can, the last one being baking, and while you failed today and paid the consequences, you usually quite enjoy it.

You hope Mommy's punishment won't affect your enjoyment, and you won't always have to expect pain whenever you make a mistake. Though you do wonder what made Mommy so mad. Daddy is probably right, there has to be more afoot.

You huff a deep breath against Daddy as you realize that your mind has wandered again. None of that. Stop it. Concentrate on him. This is for you to shut up that annoying brain of yours.

Blinking your eyes into focus, you let them wander up his torso. He looks at you, a bit of worry etched between his eyebrows. You feel his hand moving until his fingers brush against your hair, fingertips pressing softly into your scalp, both to comfort you and to push you a bit further onto his cock.

You take the hint and open your mouth a bit more, allowing more of him into it, while your hands move up and around his shaft, pulling and pushing his tight skin, feeling the thick veins throbbing against your palms. Your tongue licks around his tip, exploring the smooth mushroom shape and the ridges below, and when you angle your head a bit differently, you feel him pushing deeper, nudging right against the back of your throat.

Your stomach tenses, your breathing getting a bit more labored as you remember the last time you tried to shove him down your throat. You've been a sobbing mess covered in spit, terrified of choking on him. But you won't give up. And so you focus on swirling your tongue around what does fit into your mouth, lips tight around his warm skin, hands pumping and pumping the rest of him, and when you hollow your cheeks and suck, a twitch goes through his body, his hand tightening in your hair.

You keep going, encouraged by his reaction, starting to bob your head up and down until half of his cock is lathered in your saliva with a bit of drool running down your chin. Your fingers close around his shaft, giving him subtle squeezes, while your mouth is full of him. Instead of forcing him into spaces your body refuses to open to him, you turn your head and let him fill your cheeks, a pump left, a pump right, knowing he enjoys seeing the bulge of his cock under your skin (he especially enjoys the little bump in your stomach when he presses particularly deep or when Mommy tries one of her longer straps on you, literally rearranging your guts, and after being terrified of it the first few times, you've grown quite accustomed to seeing them deforming your body like that).

You keep nudging him into your cheek, sucking at the same time, your tongue pressed against his sensitive underside, and as you dare a look at him, you see him with his head tilted back, staring at the ceiling, lips parted, louder breaths slipping past them. “Just like that, pumpkin,” he rasps, his hand in your hair easing and tightening. “You're doing great.” He already sounds breathless, but it's not enough for you. You want to see him completely dissolve into pleasure.

So you bob faster, suck harder, squeeze him tighter. You even dare to prod him against the back of your throat again, your eyes watering at the sensation, your body shuddering, anticipating the worst, but you focus on seeing him so relaxed, that handsome man who trusts you so much, who lets go for you just as you let go for him.

Squeezing your eyes shut, ignoring the tears spilling past your lashes, you take a deep breath through your nose, forcing your tense muscles to ease up (which may sound counter-intuitive but somehow it works), and then, you lower your head, your hands tight around his shaft, holding him steady as you open your jaw and swallow him as much as you can. His tip slips past that point that usually makes you retch immediately, inch after inch, and you only convulse when he's really in there, so deep you can barely breathe, surprised and horrified at having his cock in your throat.

And then you gag, violently, your body jerking, and you pull back, spluttering, coughing, spit flying everywhere before you bury your flushed face in his thigh, trying to calm down. His hand eases down your nape.

“You okay down there, baby?” he whispers.

Your heaving breaths echo in your spinning head, and you feel shame flooding your body as more tears burn in your eyes. “S-sorry, Daddy,” you mumble, swallowing the excess spit, licking your soiled lips.

“It's fine, pumpkin,” you hear him say. “Don't stress about it. I told you you don't have to do that.”

“B-but I... I want to... I have to...” you whimper, cheek resting on his thigh, nose brushing against his cock still in your hands.

“You don't have to!”

You freeze, his harsher words ringing in your ears. “B-but...”

“Did Mommy tell you that?” he asks, and you feel him sitting up a little, his other hand finding your chin as he pulls you up again.

You look at him, vision blurry, your face wet, and when you try to wipe at it, he grabs your hand and puts it back around his cock before he wipes at your cheeks himself. “No, I just... I want to... everyone else can do it...” you murmur, averting your eyes.

“Everyone else? Who?”

“The... women in the videos...” you croak out, feeling even more embarrassed.

“Oh pumpkin,” he sighs, and you see him closing his eyes for a moment. “That is not everyone. Trust me, it's a rare gift to be able to deepthroat a cock. Don't believe for a second that every girl, every woman, hell, even every man out there would be able to do that. And if they can, it takes a lot of training to get to that point. You're not there, and you don't ever have to get there either! If Mommy told you –”

“She didn't!” you say quickly, biting your lip. “But she told me to watch... these videos... to get used to the idea of it...”

“Did she?” He exhales again, shakes his head. “Pumpkin, you are our little girl, not a porn actress we hired to perform some special tricks.” He shifts a bit more, spreading his legs to sit up and pull you up against him, his lips brushing against your temple. “Please keep your innocence, sweetheart. Don't force yourself to do things your body can't handle. It's okay not to be perfect. It's not a flaw!”

You lean into him, watching him as he talks, his words sinking in but you still feel as if you should be better, as if he expects more of you even though he says otherwise. His hand moves around your rear, brushing against the welts burned into your skin, reminding you of other things you're not good at. A few more tears spill from your eyes.

“Straddle my thigh, baby girl,” he then tells you, his gaze intense, dark.

You swallow, nodding as you blink the tears away. Shifting on the bed, you put one knee on either side of his leg (one of them nudging his groin), carefully sitting down on the bulk of his thigh. He grabs your hand and guides it back to his cock. You watch him move it up and down his shaft, curling your fist around his tip, his larger hand so big around yours.

It's almost an instinct to start grinding your bare crotch against his leg, slow little tilts of your hips, falling into the rhythm he sets with your hand. A familiar warmth settles low in your stomach, throbbing in your clit that catches on his skin with every backwards motion.

“Whatever you do, pumpkin,” he says softly, and you let his words sink in, spoken in that deep thrum of his voice that vibrates through your entire body, fueling the fire burning in your core. “I am proud of you. Because I know you are trying, you are trying harder than anyone I've ever met. You may not see it for yourself, but I can see the effort, the passion you put into everything you do. You are enough, baby girl, more than enough, you are my perfect little girl, our little girl, and yes, Mommy is proud of you too, even if she had a bad day today.

“You've come so far since you came to us, and you'll go even farther, I'm sure. So stop worrying, okay? You are so beautiful, so talented, so easy to be with. You make me incredibly happy,” he finishes softly, his hands moving up to cup your face as he pulls you towards him, your cunt still rubbing over his leg, your hand tight around his cock, moving seemingly on its own, as you focus on the soft expression in his eyes.

“Daddy,” you gasp.

He smiles, leaning in to nuzzle your nose. “I love you, pumpkin,” he breathes against you, his hands pulling you in until he captures your lips for a searing kiss. It's the combination of his words, the softness of them versus the demanding hold he has on you, the warmth of his body, the way his cock twitches in your hand, slick with his precum and your saliva, the heat burning in your core, your clit pulsing under the friction, and suddenly it all explodes into countless lights, like fireflies flickering at the edge of your vision.

You hiccup into his mouth when you come, body tensing before it relaxes into a wave of shudders, and he holds you, pulls you closer, his arm around you, his hand back on his cock, guiding yours, until he too shivers under the sensations crashing through him, one of those beautiful moans echoing in your ears. You hold each other as the waves of pleasure wash over you, your mind blissfully empty, except for one thing that slips from you like a little gasp as you break the kiss and lean your head against his shoulder.

“Love you too, Daddy.”

You've come a long way to be able to let go like this, to allow this man into your heart, to allow yourself to feel good. It isn't perfect yet, you still have a lot to learn, but compared to how it all started, how it has been before you met the most important people in your life (before Mommy and Daddy saved you), your life is nothing short of bliss now.

And you know it wasn't always like this...

🔷️ Chapter 1 🔷️ Chapter 2

End notes: Hello and welcome to yet another little smut story of mine! Thank you for giving it a chance! We start with an established relationship, and the next chapter will show how they met. Stay tuned!

By the way: the header images (are of course only to set the mood and not to depict any characters mentioned) show if Daddy or Mommy (or both) are present in the chapter, blue for Daddy, pink for Mommy. (Mommy was mentioned here, so only a little bit of pink.)

Thank you for reading! New chapter every Saturday!

Up next: We dive into Reader's backstory and how she became Mommy and Daddy's little girl.

Not interested in Reader's backstory? Skip to chapter 3 here!

MASTERLIST 🔷️ AO3 🔷️ ORIGINAL WORKS

[eclipixels]

Clichés

Sae Itoshi x Reader

Content: You and Sae are watching one of those cliché romance TV shows, and he can’t help but cringe.

[1,600 words]

      You should’ve known better than to let Sae sit through one of your guilty pleasure romance dramas.

      It started with him lounging on the couch, scrolling through his phone while you curled up beside him, eyes glued to the TV. He never really cared about these shows; he’d always brush them off as overly dramatic and predictable. But tonight, for some reason, he hadn’t moved. His fingers had stopped their lazy scrolling, his sharp gaze fixated on the screen, eyebrows furrowed.

      You tried to ignore it, but every once in a while, you’d hear him scoff or mutter something under his breath.

      “Why is she running away from him? Just talk like a normal person.”

      You rolled your eyes. “It’s called tension, Sae.”

      “It’s called unnecessary drama,” he shot back, his voice laced with disbelief.

      The episode played on, and his reactions only grew more dramatic than the show itself. You were deep into Love Island, the latest reality drama unfolding as the new couple tried to navigate their sizzling chemistry while another islander plotted to steal one of them away. When the male islander grabbed the female islander’s wrist, spinning her around for a forced confession, Sae let out a noise of pure disdain.

      “Ugh.” He ran a hand down his face, looking absolutely exhausted. “If I ever did that to you, you’d probably kill me.”

      “You’re right,” you deadpanned.

      He gave you a knowing look, clearly proud of himself for being so observant. But his horror didn’t end there. When the dramatic love triangle reached its peak, and the female islander started crying over her two potential lovers, Sae turned to you with a serious expression, clearly trying to make sense of the mess unfolding on the screen.

      “Are we supposed to feel bad for her?” he asked, like he was solving a complex puzzle.

      “Yes, Sae,” you groaned, nudging him with your elbow. “She’s torn between them.”

      “She’s also an idiot,” he said flatly. “Imagine having the perfect guy and still being confused.”

      You snorted, trying to suppress the laugh that bubbled up. “It’s not that simple. People have feelings, you know.”

      “I don’t know,” Sae muttered, eyes narrowed as he watched the drama unfold. “Seems like they’re just making bad decisions for the sake of ratings.”

      You rolled your eyes again, leaning back on the couch and crossing your arms. “You’re such a cynic.”

      He shot you a look that said, this is a disaster, but continued watching. As another islander tried to make a dramatic declaration of love while standing on a balcony, Sae groaned loudly, rubbing his temples.

      “Honestly, these people need to get a grip. Who says things like that?”

      “You sound kinda invested,” you teased, grinning up at him.

      His brows twitched, and he looked away, clearly caught off guard. “I’m not,” he muttered, his voice low as he attempted to hide his growing interest.

      You hummed in amusement, the playful glint in your eyes betraying your knowledge of the truth. You didn’t press the point further, though, knowing full well that Sae had gotten pulled into the drama. Instead, you turned your attention back to the screen, where the mess of emotions unfolding on Love Island continued to escalate.

      "That's just no way to treat a lady," Sae sighed, clearly fed up with the nonsense coming from the guys on the island.

      "Oh, really? What's your idea of proper?" You raised an eyebrow.

      "Well, for one, I believe the guy should pay for the first date if they decide to eat out. None of this fifty-fifty crap. Don't bring that European nonsense into this ethnic household. Guys today don't put in the effort anymore. They think they can stop doing all that once they've got the girl. And what's with these 'situationships'? They make no sense."

      "Sae, we were in a situationship," you said.

      "What? No, we weren't."

     "We had a talking stage for like four months and then you just started telling people I was your girlfriend."

      Sae’s face turned pink, matching his hair.

      "What?"

      "I thought we were together from the first date," he muttered, his voice almost a whisper.

      "Really?"

      "Yes!" Sae nearly shouted, covering his face with his hands in embarrassment.

      "That's adorable," you teased.

      "No, that's embarrassing."

      "We're together now," you reassured him, trying to ease his discomfort, but he stayed silent. After a long pause, he peeked up at the TV screen again, still red-faced.

      he male islander drenched in rain dramatically kissing the female islander as the storm raged around them, Sae looked like he had physically aged from the stress of witnessing it. His fingers tightened slightly around the armrest of the couch, his expression a mixture of disbelief and disdain.

      “Who actually does that?” he muttered, shaking his head in disgust. “That’s how you get sick.”

      You grinned, a spark of amusement lighting up your face. “It’s romantic.”

      “Romantic?” Sae echoed, his voice rising slightly as if the very idea offended him. “It’s stupid. Who’s actually gonna kiss someone in the middle of a torrential downpour like that? What happened to common sense?”

      You raised an eyebrow. “You’re just mad because you’ve never done it.”

      Sae scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m not mad, I’m just realistic. You don’t kiss someone in the rain, you take them inside and offer them a towel, then maybe a hot drink after they’re done drying off.” He gave you a pointed look. “And if it was you, I’d have you wrapped in blankets, not standing out there in the freezing cold.”

      You laughed, shaking your head. “You’re no fun.”

      Sae’s frown deepened as he continued to watch the rain-soaked drama play out. He shifted on the couch, visibly uncomfortable with the way the scene unfolded. The intense music swelled in the background, making the kiss seem even more important than it probably was. You couldn’t help but enjoy the way Sae’s discomfort was so obvious, especially since he’d spent the last few weeks teasing you for watching these shows.

      "Are you sure this is supposed to be a romance?" he asked, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Because to me, it feels more like a horror show."

      You snickered at his reaction, but couldn't deny the accuracy of his point. The male islander’s actions were intense, almost suffocating at times, and his possessiveness was borderline unsettling. But to you, it was all part of the fun. The over-the-top emotions, the drama-filled relationships—it was an escape from the mundane.

      His face twisted some more as the plot thickened and the your favorite female character behaved in even stranger, more obsessive ways. Sae shifted again, running a hand through his hair in frustration, clearly disturbed by what he was witnessing. The tension between the two islanders, paired with the high-stakes drama, was something he clearly didn’t understand, and you could tell that he was struggling to make sense of it all.

      "Hey, it's scripted for a reason," you countered, a small laugh escaping you. You tried to brush off his concern, knowing full well that he’d never fully appreciate the kind of drama you enjoyed.

      Sae narrowed his eyes at the screen, then glanced back at you with a half-smile, clearly unconvinced. “You say that, but I swear, I actually know a guy like this in real life on Re Al.”

      You tilted your head in curiosity. “Really?”

      Sae nodded, leaning back into the couch, a slight shudder running through him as if just mentioning this person triggered a deep sense of discomfort. “Yeah. You should see him whenever our team goes out for drinks—he is beyond weird. No sense of boundaries, no idea how to read a room.”

      “Oh my god,” you gasped, your eyes widening as you pictured the awkwardness. "What did he do?"

      “The most bizarre things,” Sae continued, a bitter edge creeping into his voice as the memory clearly rattled him. “Like, one time, he tried to ‘confess his feelings’ in the middle of a bar with all of us watching. Didn’t even try to make it subtle, just straight-up told this girl he loved her after talking to her for, like, five minutes. I swear, he’d be perfect for one of these shows.”

      You stared at him in disbelief, equal parts horrified and intrigued by the story.

      "Thank god our relationship isn’t anything like that." He gestured towards the screen. “This whole thing is just… so far off from anything real. I can’t imagine this show yielding a happy relationship."

      You leaned back into the couch, propping your feet up next to him as the characters on-screen faced yet another heart-wrenching dilemma. The drama was escalating by the minute—misunderstandings, love triangles, betrayals. It was the perfect storm of emotions, and for once, Sae seemed to be paying attention.

      A beat passed, and you could feel his tension ease, though his frustration hadn’t completely faded. He let out a long sigh, sinking deeper into the cushions. His fingers, warm and absentminded, found the hem of your sleeve and began to idly toy with it, a quiet gesture of comfort in the middle of the chaotic drama.

      “I don’t think I could handle the constant stress these people go through,” You admitted softly, almost to yourself.

      “It’s exhausting watching them make such stupid decisions all the time.”

      “Yeah, I agree. I like our relationship better.” You smiled softly, poking his face with your index finger before leaning in for a proper kiss.

      Sae met your eyes, and his expression was calm. "Yeah," he said softly, with a small but genuine smile, returning your kiss.

[klausysworld]

Hiii I absolutely love your oneshots. Can you please do one with Elijah mikaelson. Similar to your klaus one shot about the reader having a lack in height.. Elijah is OBSESSED. Reader could be like (4’10 to 5’1?)

Uncontrollable Love

It shouldn’t have turned him on as much as it did.

Just looking at her made him stir. 

It had gotten to the point where even Niklaus was teasing him about it all.

Whenever Y/N would leave the room Elijah’s eyes would follow and someone would snicker. 

He hadn’t realised quite how tiny she was the first couple times, Y/N always seemed to be sitting the first few encounters so when he had been too focused on sorting out his cufflinks and bumped into her, he didn’t realise who it was.

Not until she spun back around and called out his name with a smile on her face.

“Oh..” He breathed, Elijah hadn’t remembered the last time he’d been at such a loss for words but looking down at her he was. Y/N barely reached his chest, let alone being at eyeline. Her head was tilted all the way back, looking up at him with such a sweetness that it made his dead heart thump quickly. His head shook a little, trying to urge his thoughts back. “Y/N.” He nodded, “Forgive me, I wasn’t looking.” His throat cleared, he felt like he sounded funny. Did he sound different? Was his voice too high? Too deep?

He wasn’t so sure and he could feel the bead of sweat on his forehead.

“That’s okay, neither was I.” She smiled, holding up her phone as if to show him what she had been looking at. Her expression shifted, a slight frown and it made him worry more. “Oh did I mess up your tie? I’m sorry, I must've knocked it somehow.” Y/N reached up as she said so, her arms stretched up to straighten his tie. 

Her fingers were so close to him, almost touching him. Usually he was very possessive of his belongings, especially his extensive tie collection but he couldn’t help but want her to stroke every inch of fabric he owned.

He couldn’t take it, just watching her. It was straining him.

Without a word he had left the room, leaving her confused but she simply shrugged it off and went on her way.

From that day he couldn’t help but imagine her with him all the time.

Wondered how she’d look snuggled up against him, gods he’d be able to wrap his body all the way around her. 

He’d imagine her sitting on his lap, straddling him. Her thighs stretched open as she looked up at him with her big eyes. It made him throb.

Every morning he had to reach over her, grab the cereal and pass it down to her and every time he couldn’t help but let himself press against the back of her. 

At lunch he’d get too nervous that she might slip and slice her finger off when she cut her sandwich in half so he’d hastily make his way down the stairs and grab the knife before she could. She’d laugh, such a bubbly laugh that would make his heart clench and she’d tell him that she wasn’t a small child but he could always see the level of comfort and enjoyment she took when he sliced her sandwich into two triangles and shifted them onto a plate for her. 

Once dinner rolled around he’d be all over her in the kitchen. He’d lift her onto the counter, watching her legs swing back and forth as he slid the herbs across to her when she asked for them. 

She’d talk so much to him then, and he would always listen of course. It was impossible not to pay attention to her, her voice was addictive. But he also couldn’t stop himself from admiring her. He just wanted to hold her, feel her, know that she was his.

Pure and utter joy would fill him when his brother announced another event they were throwing.

It meant Y/N would be held against his chest, letting him lift her off the ground and dance her all around the room like she was just a petal in the wind. In addition to that, at the end of those events, Elijah was almost guaranteed a kiss from her. 

He’d walk her back up the stairs, her dainty hands clutching his bicep as she spoke to him about how lovely the evening had been. Once they got to her bedroom he’d clear his throat, a faint smile creeping on his lips but he needed to keep it back.

Y/N would tuck her hair behind her ear, a nervous habit Elijah had discovered, and look up at him through her lashes. 

“Thank you for being with me all night.” She’d whisper, her foot sliding in and out of her heel, another habit, before she’d reach up to wrap her fingers around his tie. Elijah would always have to hold his breath so he wouldn’t let out a groan.

She’d tug him down and he’d eagerly lean so that their lips could meet. 

Always soft and innocent but would linger slightly too long for it to mean something casual. 

His hand would hold her waist, he felt as though he could fit her in one hand. 

“Goodnight Elijah.” Her voice would utter before she disappeared into the confines of her room.

Elijah would have to sit as quietly as he could in his reading chair, his hair damp as he stroked himself like a desperate animal. His hips would jump as though somehow he’d lost the control over himself that he had trained himself to have over centuries. 

It took him an embarrassingly long time to finally cave to his feelings and bring her to his bed. But once he had her, he knew she’d never be able to leave him. 

Elijah was in a state when her legs wrapped around him, his hands traced the short length of her body over and over and she knew how much he loved her size. Especially once her fingers were trying to wrap around his cock, the contrased made his hips just. Watching her pretty pink lips stretch around the head made his hands tangle in her hair, he just couldn’t believe what was happening.

Even once he was deep inside her, he couldn’t help but watch as his cock disappear inside her over and over, he could feel her pussy stretching around him. He looked so big between her legs.

Y/N moaned and whined like a needy whore and it made him crazy.

“Just desperate to be split in two by my big cock, aren’t you baby?” he would taunt against her ear, relishing in the way she would clench around him. 

Once she finished around him, he would pump her full of his cum, not once tearing his gaze away from how it all spilled out of her.

Elijah was a carer, that much was evident just with his siblings but with Y/N he was even more so.

He never wanted her walking, holding her tight instead, needing her legs around his waist all the time and arms over his neck. He needed her to need him, to cling to him like his soul would cling to hers.

[darlingdaisyfarm]

👁️⃤ Bill x Ford x reader headcanons

minors don’t interact

༄ Bill calls you “IQ’s little distraction”

༄ Bill loves to tease Ford about his preferences. “Oh, so you like it when she does that, huh, Sixer? well, you always were into the weird stuff.” 

Ford tries to ignore him, but you can tell Bill’s getting under his skin. Sometimes, when Ford’s especially worked up, he’ll respond back, gritting through his teeth, “Shut up, Bill, or I’ll—” 

But Bill cuts him off with a laugh. “You’ll what, Sixer? id love to see you try.”

༄ Bill has absolutely zero sense of boundaries. Like, none. You’ll be trying to have a moment of peace with Ford, just laying your head on his chest, his hand in your hair and Bill will appear out of nowhere. “Wow, Sixer, you look real cozy. Hope you don’t mind if I join— oh wait, I don’t care what you mind!”

Because Bill lives to make Ford suffer.

༄ Bill is constantly whispering the dirtiest things into Ford’s ear, especially when you’re around. You could be standing in the kitchen, preparing breakfast for yourself and Ford, and Bill will float beside Ford, murmuring, “She looks good, doesn’t she, Sixer? Bet you can’t wait to—” 

Ford immediately cuts him off, snapping, “Shut up.”

༄ Ford is always a mess when it comes to you. He’ll stumble over his words when he’s trying to say something sweet or get all flustered when you catch him staring at you. Bill loves to point it out too. “Oh, look at you, Sixer, so pathetic, just how I like ya.” Ford tries to brush it off, but you can see the faint blush on his cheeks every time.

༄ Ford tries to plan a romantic dinner at least once a month. Tries. Because Bill always crashes it. One time, he even possessed the waiter at the fancy restaurant you both went to. Ford didn’t notice until halfway through dessert when the waiter leaned over and said in Bill’s voice, “Enjoying the cake, Fordsy? hope you don’t choke on it!” Ford nearly did.

༄ Bill loves interrupting intimate moments. Anytime things start getting heated between you and Ford, Bill finds a way to make it weird. One time, Ford’s lips trailing down your neck to your collarbones, your hands gripping his shoulders, but with the corner of your eye, you saw Bill’s faint yellow glow in the room. Ford didn’t notice right away, continuing kissing and sucking on your skin, but the second you did, you pushed him back. “B-Bill’s watching.” you muttered awkwardly.

“What? Can’t a guy enjoy the view? You two are putting on quite the show!”

Ford practically growled, grabbing the nearest book off the nightstand and throwing it at Bill’s levitating form. 

༄ When you and Ford are eating, this damn triangle just can't calm down.

Ford groans, immediately looking up. “Bill, I swear, if you—”

“Didn’t think you’d get away that easy, did ya, Sixer?”

The lights blink out and Bill’s yellow triangle form appears right above the table.

“Ooh, candles? How romantic! What’s the occasion? Your last meal before death?

༄ Bill constantly steals Ford’s stuff. Research notes, pens, even his glasses. You’ll come into the room to see Ford anxiously searching for something, only for Bill to pop up, floating lazily in the air with Ford’s glasses. “Looking for these, IQ?”

༄ Ford writes in his journals about you sometimes, sketching your face in the margins with messy notes like, “her smile is distracting”, “must focus on the dimensional rift”, but you catch him sometimes, staring at the page for way too long before slamming the book shut when you ask about it.

༄ Bill teases Ford relentlessly about his age. “You’re still alive, huh? Good for you, Six Fingers! Still got all your teeth?” Ford just glances at him like he's seriously considering whether to fight or not. In most cases, he doesn’t.

༄ Ford is not always good at showing affection, but sometimes you wake up with Ford’s arms wrapped tightly around you, his body curled into yours like he’s hiding you from the world, his face buried in your hair.

༄ Ford’s sitting at his desk, hunched over some kind of cryptic manuscript, muttering to himself. You’re lounging on the bed nearby, half-listening, when Bill suddenly materializes out of air, hovering right over Ford’s shoulder.

“You missed a line, Sixer! And that equation? hmm, totally wrong.”

Ford doesn’t even look up, just lets out a frustrated sigh. “Go away, Bill.”

“What? I’m trying to help! This is what you wanted, isn’t it? You need me, admi—“

Ford slams his pen down, spinning around to face Bill. “The only thing I need is for you to leave me alone.”

Bill’s eye narrows. “Can we talk, pretty please?”

Ford doesn’t respond, his glare doing all the talking for him. Just not again. And more than all, not when you’re around.

༄ It’s late and Ford’s already fallen asleep beside you, his arm rests across your waist. You’re awake though, staring at the ceiling, mind racing with thoughts about. . . You don’t want to name that. It’s quiet until—

“Awww, look at that old man. So cute when he sleeps, huh?”

You sigh, turning your head slightly. Bill’s floating in the air, glowing as he speaks. “Bet he couldn’t keep up with ya, could he? Poor guy’s probably gonna need a cane soon.”

You roll your eyes.

“Come on, baby, why do you need him? Leave this old man to me, I know exactly how to take care of him.”

Only if, in Bill's understanding, hitting a person's head against a wall can be called care. 

but Bill keeps going. “y’know, you could be having a lot more fun if you ditched the nerd.”

༄ Ford tries to teach you about all the different dimensions he’s been to. He’ll pull out these ancient-looking charts, pointing at interdimensional pathways and explaining them in painstaking detail. You just nod and blink, but half the time, you’re just watching the way his hands move or the way his voice softens when he gets really excited about some fact or thing. Sometimes, you’ll lean in and kiss him just to make him pause, just to see that little flustered smile that creeps onto his face when he realizes he’s rambling again

༄ You know those quiet nights where it’s just you and Ford, snuggled up under the stars, everything peaceful for once? Bill hates that. He can’t stand the silence. He’ll show up, glowing bright as ever and start blasting some weird, otherworldly music from whatever dimension he’s been in. Ford’s patience is already thin and after the third or fourth time Bill crashes the mood, Ford practically yells at him to fuck off. You, on the other hand, can't stop laughing.

༄ Bill loves messing with Ford’s coffee in the morning. Because Stanford has his whole routine, wake up, brew a fresh pot, pour a cup, add just the right amount of sugar. But Bill ruins it. Every time. One morning, Ford took a sip and immediately spit it out, glaring at the cup. You didn’t even need to ask. 

“Bill.” 

“Hope you like your salt with a side of caffeine, Sixer!

༄ Bill can get really handsy when he’s in control of Ford’s body. It's a real entertainment for him, feeling Ford’s frustration as he takes liberties, running his hands over you in ways Ford would never dare. “Oh, come on, Sixer, relax. You’re so uptight.” Ford is fuming, but it’s not like he can stop it. Bill leans closer to you, whispering in Ford’s voice. “Bet you like this better, don’t ya, doll?”

༄ Ford tries to give you a normal day sometimes, without any interdimensional nonsense or Bill’s interruptions. It usually lasts about five minutes before Bill pops in with some sarcastic comment or weird fact about some dimension neither of you cares about. Ford grits his teeth, muttering something about wishing he could just get five minutes of peace. You’re just used to it by now.

༄ Ford pretends he isn’t jealous when Bill flirts with you, but you can tell by the way his hand tightens around yours when Bill materialises in the room. Ford says it’s nothing, but then he’s pulling you closer, glaring at Bill.

༄ Bill’s a creepy little bastard who likes to float inches away from your face, his single eye blinking too slowly. You tell him to fuck off. He does. For ten seconds. Then he’s back, upside down this time, asking why Ford hasn’t kissed you yet today. He hopes you two will break up?

༄ Ford’s hands are huge and you always feel tiny when he wraps them around your waist. Bill makes weird comments about Ford having six fingers and how "it could be useful for so many things, don’t you think?" Ford doesn’t know whether to laugh or cringe. That’s just awkward.

༄ Ford kisses you like he’s solving a problem, taking his time, all intense and focused, his lips mapping out every curve of your mouth like he’s studying it. Bill interrupts by floating in and asking, “Wow, are you gonna write a dissertation on that, Sixer?”

༄ Bill has absolutely tried to possess Ford while he’s with you. You’ve learned to spot the signs: Ford’s eyes glowing just a bit too much, his voice having that eerie echo. You have a spray bottle ready now. “NO, Bill. BAD DEMON.” It works. Sometimes.

༄ Bill once tried to show you visions of all possible realities, like, “Hey, wanna see how the universe ends?” You told him to go fuck himself. Now he keeps showing you weird alternate versions of Ford where he’s a pirate, a robot or a cowboy. Bill insists this is "important research."

༄ Sometimes when Ford will just be lying in bed, and Bill will pop in like it’s the most natural thing in the world, floating above him. “What’s the matter, Sixer? Trouble sleeping? I know a thing or two about nightmares!” Bill laughs, but Ford turns away, pulling the blanket over his head like that’s going to stop a literal demon. It never works. Bill stays, talking until Ford either gives up on sleeping entirely or throws a pillow through him in frustration.

༄ Ford always gets lost in his work and you have to drag him away from his research to eat, sleep, or, you know, be a human. Bill offers to "fix" this by “removing” Ford’s need for sleep. You kindly suggest Bill remove himself from existence instead.

༄ You found one of Ford’s journals full of sketches of Bill, with little notes about weaknesses and possible ways to destroy him. One page, with drops of blood on it, just had “FUCK YOU, CIPHER” written over and over. Ford insists it was an experiment. 

༄ Ford gets insecure a lot, especially after everything that happened with Bill. He’ll pull away, like he’s afraid to get too close. You have to remind him that he’s not alone anymore, that he doesn’t have to carry everything on his shoulders. Bill, of course, loves to swoop in during those vulnerable moments, whispering how fun it was to watch Ford break.

༄ Bill absolutely reads Ford’s journal when he’s not looking. He’s stolen a few pages too. Once, he asked you if you wanted to see what Ford wrote about you.

༄ Ford, surprisingly, can be rough and dominant sometimes. His normally gentle side disappears when you get him riled up, and soon enough, he’s pinning you against a wall as he mutters in your mouth, “You’re mine, understand?” 

Bill, ever the asshole, floats by with a sing-songy, “Ooh, Sixer’s got a dark side, huh? Fucking hot.” 

༄ Bill, in all his chaotic glory, shows up at your door with a gift — a jar containing what looks like a preserved monster eyeball. He insists it’s a “conversation starter” and jokes about “keeping an eye on things.” You freak out, but Ford looks like he’s used to it.

༄ It’s not just Ford who gets jealous; Bill throws tantrums when he sees you and Ford getting too close. One time, he sulked in the corner, muttering about “human emotions” while eyeing you both, his form turning red.

༄ Sometimes you wake up to Bill floating above you in a dream, whispering, “interesting fact! did you know I could bend reality just to keep you awake all night?” there you wake up screaming, while Ford, half-asleep, grumbles about needing to “banish that triangle for good.”

༄ You know that Ford is obsessed with his research and you love to stay up late, sitting on the floor next to him, watching him scribble furiously in his journals. He looks so cute when he’s all focused and excited. But there’s always that moment when you catch him staring at you instead of the pages. 

You smirk, “are you going to take notes on how beautiful I am?” Ford stutters, not knowing what to say, but you see a smile on his face. 

༄ Ford’s hands grips your waist, holding you against him while his lips slide down your neck, showering kisses, making you gasp softly, your fingers in his hair. But just when things are about to get real, Bill pops in with a, “Geez, Sixer, are you gonna bore her to death with foreplay or what?”

༄ And of course, let's not forget about the usual, “Doll, you sure you’re satisfied with this? nerds aren’t exactly known for their stamina, if you know what I mean!”

Ford doesn't want you to know how Bill knows this.

[zillanovikov]

well, this situation is shit

i'm not especially engaging with the news, because it messes me up to no good end, but I know that when it's time to march in the streets, my friends will message me and we'll arts-and-crafts ourselves some placards and we'll march

again

and again

in 2017 i was a wannabe-activist and i wasn't in any messaging groups with activists and i wanted to do something but as someone who struggles with "social anxiety" and "what script do I follow in this social situation" I was incredibly intimidated about what something might look like

i rely on fiction to help prepare me for unfamiliar adventures, but while there's a lot of books to prepare me for my post-apocolyse love triangle & for making a rousing speech that somehow sparks a revolution, there's not many books about what activism actually looks like, right here, in this rapidly distingrating dystopia that is our lives

attending meetings and making friends and arts and crafts and community building and showing up, not because you lead a revolution, but because you need to believe that a revolution is possible, and you need to be in a room with people who believe it too or else you'll go mad from pretending every day that the world outside your window is acceptable

so i wrote a book, the book that I needed to read in 2017, that told me what it looks like to resist

it's called query

if my book can help another wannabe activist, someone who wondering what something looks look, who looks to fiction for a script, then i want to help

i've made it pay-what-you-want, if you think it might help to read, please download it for free from here, free is a great option

and take care of yourself, okay? you're not alone. you are not the only person who believes

[peteytheparrot]

Ok I enjoy Billford as like, toxic yaoi, but if we were to be serious about this for a second like- Ok, Ford IS an abuse victim, straight up, it’s pretty much in canon. When Ford didn’t do what Bill said he tortured the ever loving shit out of him, showing Ford that he can make him feel unimaginable pain if he wanted to. When Ford finds his family reading The Book of Bill he’s terrified, but he just finds them all laughing about it. Of course he’s still terrified of Bill even after his death, he went through hell with that triangle, but now he’s realizing that he’s not a ‘God’ that was above him, he’s just some loser, Bills a loser, that beat the shit out of Ford for no good reason because he had the power too. Bill is also just messed up in the head, he burned down his own dimension and is terribly lonely and fucked up from that all, so he gets attached to Ford. So when that doesn’t go his way he just gets angry by it all and immediately does the one thing he’s best at which is destroying everything. He calls what burns down his home ‘a monster’ because that’s all he sees himself as now, a monster. Bro NEEDS therapy and the Axolotl knows this. (Ford also probably needs therapy ngl ☠️)

DOES ANY OF THIS MAKE SENSE HELP I DIDNT REREAD THE BOOK FOR THIS ☠️

[bunny-hwa]

Popular, Boy

☆ 01: The first beg

Pairings: Nerd!Hongjoong x Popular!Reader

Genre: +18, slow burn, angst, smut, drama, dark academic, love triangle.

wc: 8.0k

Summary: Your world is shaken when Hongjoong, a desperate nerd yearning for popularity and your attention, swallows his pride dropping to his knees, begging for your help and eager to prove his loyalty, he would do anything you want, but he must pay the price of his ambition.

This is just the beginning. This is just his first beg...

Warnings: Cursing, verbal abuse, bullying, public humiliation, emotional manipulation, power dynamics, suggestive.

Series Masterlist ☆02

“YN, our little pet is coming.” You hear one of your friends say. You smile but your sight never leaves the screen of your phone.

Why is Seonghwa not answering your messages? You're supposed to have a date after school, but he just left you on seen… again.

You are not yet a couple, but you treat each other as one, something that is completely wrong, yet you continue to do it.

You scoff when Mindy does the same thing, but only for different reasons “Finally you're here, what took you so long, pet?” The brown haired drop his head down in embarrassment, but says nothing “I asked you something, are you deaf?” Your friend stands up walking towards him, she slaps the notebooks in his hands making them spread onto the floor “When I ask you something you have to answer, fucking slave. Now pick up that mess.” Mindy says with an evil smile, sitting beside you again. Your other friends laugh and you know something it's coming.

“Yes, yes…. I… I'm sorry.” The boy stutters, and drops to his knees.

You roll your eyes while turning off your phone, Seonghwa is not going to answer even if you give death stares to your phone.

You decide to pay attention to the things happening in front of you, and in the middle of the whole cafeteria, where all the students are watching like is a fucking TV show.

A boy is kneeling in front of Mindy picking up the mess of notebooks and paper sheets. He's picking everything in a hurry, he must be so scared.

You don’t know a lot about him but you know his name and the basics. Kim Hongjoong, he's in your class and is a complete loser. Always with those ugly glasses and baggy old man clothes. He's intelligent, he has the best grades in the whole school. In simple words, he's a nerd.

He is part of the nerdy slaves that you and your friends have, always there for you and your scholar needs. Being the queen bee of college has a lot of advantages, everyone loves you (or hates you) and you can have whatever you like in a snap. Nobody will complain about it.

Being pretty and rich can do a lot of thighs.

Suddenly; you feel a little tap on your shoulder by Mindy at your side. She is holding her drink above the boy's head. You smile, nodding. Your friends and some students started laughing when the strawberry liquid covered his hair and clothes, wetting the floor and some notebooks.

“Oh my god, the little puppy made a mess!” One of your girls says pointing at the boy on his knees.

Hongjoong feels his face hot with embarrassment. He is used to public humiliations, but whenever it happens in front of you, the humiliation feels a thousand times worse.

You hear laughs and other cruel words making you smile in hilariously, but it is when he snaps his head at your side, his eyes full of tears and begging, and for the first time you feel empathy for someone.

“Quit it.” You say still looking at him, and slowly everyone gets silent, till nothing is heard “Let him go and call someone to clean this fucking mess.” Taking your stuff, you're able to see him down his head to cover the little smile in his lips, and you roll your eyes in annoyance. You're not defending him, only his big eyes clouded your evil for a moment and you're going to make it clear for him “You have to buy me new notebooks, pet.”

When you remark the nasty nickname you can see a spark of hurt in his eyes, but you ignore it and you stand up to go to class, your friends following you laughing and throwing dirty looks at him.

Hongjoong; still on his knees, looking at you with shame, he is hurt by your words and he didn't have any idea that those notebooks were yours. He sees you walk away in that little pink skirt and white high heels that he loves to see you in, he doesn't pay attention to the mocks other students make about him. He just picks up the ruined notebooks, stands up and walks to the nearest bathroom.

Looking at his reflection in the mirror, hair wet and sticky for the sweet drink, tarnished glasses, and his clothes a complete mess. He feels like everyone calls him.

A loser.

And he hates it, he hates himself. He hates that everyone repudiates him just because of the way he looks. How sick must society be to judge your appearance?

He wishes he could be better, for him and for you. He swears to god that he would do everything to be at your level and make you feel proud to be by his side.

He's been in love with you since the first day of his freshman year of college. He loves everything about you… well, he doesn't love how you treat him sometimes, and the strange relationship you have with Seonghwa, but leaving that aside, he has the biggest crush on you he could ever have on someone.

He loves your long, silky brown hair, he loves your pretty deer eyes that every time you see him, even if it's with repudiation, they make him blush. God, he loves your lips, your beautiful and glossy lips, always looking so kissable. He loves your body which seems sculpted by god himself, your curves make many men desire and even him. And finally, he loves it when you wear mini skirts and high stockings, you just look beautiful and he would give everything to compliment you and maybe do something more suggestive while wearing them.

He just wishes he was with you, but he doesn't know how to change and prove it to you.

Prove that he is worth it, he will try, he will try to change for you.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

As he said, he spent the whole weekend buying stylish clothes online, and buying a lot of accessories such as earrings, rings and chains. He also pierced his ears (it hurted like hell) he looked for fashion pages, skincare routines and how to style his hair.

Oh! And he bought you pretty notebooks and also rewrote all your notes and exercises.

He was willing to show off a new style at school tomorrow, the only thing he forgot was changing the big ass glasses… but maybe he can look good after he uses cool clothes, or at least he hopes so.

He arrives at school full of nerves, sweaty hands and feeling like a clown.

He woke up earlier than he usually does to get ready. He is thankful that fashion apps exist to help people without a sense of fashion like him. He made a mess in the bathroom trying to get a good hairstyle while watching a TikTok tutorial and he almost ripped his ear trying to put on earrings for the first time, but at the end he was satisfied with the results, he looked like the popular guys in his school and he felt a little bit of faith.

Maybe you will see him differently now, maybe you will finally see him.

Before going out of his house, his mother were surprise seeing his son wearing new brand clothes, accessories and his hair unusually styled, he really looked good and she complement him a lot saying how handsome her son is, and she even tried to take a picture like it was the fucking prom night, but now standing infront of the school he was feeling terrified.

“Hongjoong?” He snaps his head towards the voice calling him “God, you look like a new person, man!” The tall guy compliments him with a wide smile, he approaches Hongjoong while adjusting his glasses, not believing what he is seeing.

“Thank you, Yunho… But I don't feel different.” He mutters, looking at his new clothes.

He was wearing a simple white shirt, black pants, black leather jacket and boots, and he added some accessories to make the outfit look better.

“You do look different, but you are our same Joong.”

“Is what I’m saying, Yeosang” Yunho says to the boy who calmly approaches them “Just wait till Jongho sees you, he will—”

“You look like an idiot.” Yunho is interrupted by Jongho’s voice “What did you do to yourself?” He asks, eyeing him with a grimace.

Hongjoong looks at his clothes again, Jongho’s comment causing regret of trying to change what he is... A loser.

Yunho hit the youngest head, making him hiss in pain “You look great, Joong. Don't pay attention to this asshole, he is just jealous.”

“Jealous? Sure.” He rolls his eyes “Whatever, lets see how YN’s group will treat you.”

Jongho starts to walk to the main entrance, leaving him with Yunho and Yeosang. Hongjoong glare at his two friends, concerned “Do I look that bad?”

“Of course not.” Yeosang shakes his head.

“No! You look cool, maybe like this you finally get a girlfriend.” Yunho jokes, slapping his arm “Come on, let's get going.”

As Hongjoong walked through the halls of the school, he was able to see how several students looked at him with amazement and confusion. He knew that most of them were making fun of him, but he decided not to pay attention. The opinion that mattered most to him at this moment was yours.

✮ ⋆

During lunch, Hongjoong walks toward you and your friends to give you the notebooks he bought for you after scraping them last week. His clothes are more fashionable than usual. His hair is styled neatly, and he wears a fitted black jacket and jeans, trying to look more confident after the compliments he received from his friends.

You are sitting with your group, chatting, when you notice…. Hongjoong approaching? Is that him or you are confusing him with another person?

“Is that Hongjoong?” You hear Mindy asking aloud.

Hongjoong, looking a bit nervous, adjusts his jacket, trying to look more at ease “YN I… I bought you new notebooks like you said.” He says while he gives you the beautiful notebooks, with curiosity you take them carefully, still observing his radical change of look “Also I rewrote all your notes.” He scratches the back of his head, nervously.

Scanning him up and down, there's a moment of hesitation before you respond, unsure how to react “Well yeah… As you should do.” You glanced at your friends, who are all now looking at Hongjoong in various states of amusement and confusion “Thanks… I guess.”

“What on earth happened to you?” Mindy laughs, raising an eyebrow “What’s with the clothes, pet? Trying to be one of us now?” She smirks, eyes scanning him, clearly not impressed.

You frown slightly, sensing the tone of your friend. You know how cruel she can be when she hates someone, because you are just like that. But Hongjoong has done nothing to you, yet.

“I think he’s just trying something new. It’s... nice that he’s, you know, stepping out of his ugly clothes zone.” You try to defend him subtly.

Mindy shrugs, still smirking, “Babe, no amount of new cheap clothes is gonna change the fact that he’s still a total nerd.” She snickers, flipping her hair “Look at him. Trying so hard to be on our level. It’s sad, really.” You look at her with a little smile, she is not wrong, though.

A group of students walk by, to be more specific, it is the football team. Made up of the rich and handsome boys of the school. The main hosts are Seonghwa, San, Mingi and Wooyoung... And of course, we couldn't miss that they are friends and something else, of you and your group. They snicker as they notice Hongjoong’s new look.

“Do you see this? Hongjoong’s playing dress-up now. What a joke” Wooyoung whispers to Seonghwa, but loud enough for Hongjoong to hear, causing him to put down his head in shame.

Seonghwa laughs, shaking his head “Nice try, man. You’ll always be the same kid no matter how many jackets you buy.” He steps closer to where you are sitting, and bends down to give you a kiss on the lips.

You smile at him and force him to sit next to you. Hongjoong swallows his jealousy when he sees such a scene.

“Yeah, dude, you’re still the same geek. Just a geek in a fancy jacket. No one’s gonna buy it.” San laughs along.

Hongjoong; feeling his face flushes with embarrassment pulls at his jacket sleeves, but he lifts his head up high. His voice shakes a little, but he forces a smile “I’m just... trying to fit in. I thought maybe people would treat me differently, that’s all.” He opens up, but he just hears chuckles.

“Fit in? Honey, you’re never gonna fit in. You’ve always been the weird kid, and this little makeover using cheap stuff isn’t gonna change that.” Mindy says while laughing loudly, clearly enjoying hongjoong’s discomfort “You should’ve stuck to your glasses and ugly clothes, at least then people wouldn’t be laughing at you.”

You were smiling, but feeling uncomfortable. You know that sometimes you can be the biggest bitch and cruel person but this time you're not going to lie, he looks good with that style. You dare say he looks attractive, something you never thought you would say about him.

Hongjoong, who is now looking down, his shoulders slump… you feel sorry for him “I think you look fine, Hongjoong. Honestly. It’s just... losers aren’t going to change overnight.” Your voice is surprisingly gentle, trying to offer him some comfort.

At your words his smile fades, and he sighs softly, clearly discouraged, but he tries to keep his composure “Yeah... I guess you're right. It’s just... hard, you know? I thought... Maybe this time, I could make a difference.” He looks down, visibly defeated and walks away.

The bell rings, signaling the end of lunch, and students begin to disperse. You watch Hongjoong as he walks away, feeling a pang of guilt and sympathy.

“Seriously, though. Who does he think he’s fooling? He’ll never be one of us, and let alone wearing second-hand clothes.” You hear Mindy whispering to the others.

You shake your head, rolling your eyes “Mindy, that’s enough.” You stand up, pushing back your chair.

“Calm down, YN. He is just a nerd, why are you so worried about him?”

“I said, it's enough. So please shut the fuck up.”

Wooyoung laughs “You heard the queen, shut the fuck up Mindy, you’re annoying.” He mocks her, making her angry.

You ignore their bickering and decide to watch Hongjoong walk away, a little conflicted. You don't understand why you suddenly feel this way for him, three days ago you still saw him as just a loser... But now you think he's a pretty cute loser.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

It's been a week, and you were able to see the way Hongjoong worked hard every day, wearing cute clothes and different hairstyles every day. You don't deny it, every day that passes you see him more attractive.

Even some students, or more specifically, some other losers noticed his change too. Girls started to notice his beauty and boys envied him, but nothing more.

In the eyes of others, he is still a nerd wearing nice clothes and even you have come to think that, but you prefer to stay quiet instead of humiliating him like Mindy or Seonghwa friends love to do. As they are doing right now.

“Just stop pretending to be one of us and go back with your nerdy friends.”

“Your low class exists only to serve us.”

“You're just a loser in cheap clothes.”

And the teasing is not going to stop until someone does, but you're not going to be the one to do it.

“Don't you get tired of your little group of clowns saying stupid things?” The laughter was tempered by paying attention to the annoyed girl in front of you, and next to a kneeling Hongjoong. He looked at her amazed, no one had ever defended him. But you look at the girl with a grin, who the fuck thinks she is to talk at you like that? She is wearing loose and ugly clothes, round glasses decorating her delicate face, and it is obvious that she is just another loser. "You should start studying instead of wasting your time doing all this."

You stop Wooyoung when you see him trying to stand up and start arguing with the girl.

“Excuse me, but… Who are you?” You ask with a soft voice like you're talking to a little girl. You have never seen this girl before “And why do you meddle in something that is none of your business?”

Raising your brows in surprise, you look how the girl rolls her eyes and takes Hongjoong’s arm, forcing him to get up from the floor “Knowing my name is none of your business, spoiled girl.”

You scoff, watching her walk with a completely astonished and confused Hongjoong.

That bitch doesn't know who she is dealing with.

“Sannie.”

“Yes?” He answers, coming out of his own astonishment, no one had ever spoken to you like that and much less had anyone defended that nerd.

“Find out who she is. I want her name, age, address and what class she is in.” You order him without taking your eyes off those two heading to the school's backyard “Call me when you have the information.”

“Of course, pretty.”

✮ ⋆

“Wait.” Hongjoong says once they are in the garden, away from everyone. He breaks free from the strange girl's grip.

The girl turns to look at him confused “What happened? Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”

He looks at her strangely, who the hell is she? And why did she defend him? She must be a new student, no one will ever dare to talk to you and the others in that way.

“Why did you do that?”

“Because they were being mean with you, nobody deserves to be treated like that.”

“But you don't even know me.” He couldn't believe that someone was worried about him.

“I don't have to know you, I just wanted to help.” She smiles shyly, red creeping to her cheeks when Hongjoong stares at her eyes.

“Well, thanks…” He mutters “I'm Hongjoong.”

“I… I'm Dann, I'm a transfer student.” It's been a week since she arrived at this school. His beauty has chased her since the first moment she saw him in the library, and she cannot deny the little crush she has on him.

Hongjoong lets out a sigh, now he knows why she is so bold. She has no idea how things work in this school.

“Listen.” He begins “I appreciate your concern, but don't do it again–”

“Why? Because they are the cliché rich kids?” She scoffs, crossing her arms.

Hongjoong sighs again “Because they can be more than just cruel, especially the girl you addressed.”

“That rich girl sitting in the middle of all those clowns?” Hongjoong nods “I don't care, she's just another mean rich girl. Nothing new.”

Hongjoong closes his eyes with another tired sigh. If only she knew.

And if only he knew that they were going to get along instantly.

After that day, they spend their breaks together in the library sharing their tastes in books and random topics, and to his surprise they have a lot of things in common.

Since that day, they started being friends, and Dann couldn't be more happy.

“See you tomorrow Dann, we have to discuss the science book.” Hongjoong says while tousling her hair slightly.

Dann smiles with his cheeks burning “Sure, see you tomorrow, Joong.”

He says goodbye with a beautiful smile that makes her sigh like a fool, she sees him leave without erasing her smile... Maybe it's too early to tell him that she likes him?

Yes, it's definitely too early.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

“Dann, can you help me please? I'm in a hurry!”

The girl sighs, but she goes where her mother is in the kitchen “What do you need?”

“Take this to Mrs. Clarke's daughter." The woman says as she hands Dann a tray with lemonade and chopped fresh fruit.

“I don't even know her, how do you expect me to find her in this big ass house?” She asks, rolling her eyes.

“She is in the pool, and she is the only young lady in this house.”

“I’m a young lady too.” She teases and her mother chuckles.

“You know what I meant Dann.” Dann laughs, and heads towards the back exit of the large house where the garden and pool are located.

Since her mother started working here, two weeks ago, she was delighted with the Clarke’s family mansion and so was she. It is a spectacular house full of luxuries that is scary to even see for fear of breaking something. Because of how expensive everything looks, she doubts that she and her mother can afford it if it ever happens.

Being already at the entrance of the immense garden she could see in the distance a huge pool with elegant edges and lounge chairs that seemed to be made of pure gold, leaning on one of the chairs is a girl in a beautiful bikini and sunglasses.

“She must be her.” Dann mutters slowly approaching the young girl that seems to be sleeping, or that was she thought “Excuse me, miss Clarke.” She says with a soft voice, it's the first time she has interacted with the daughter of his mother's bosses, she must have given a good impression “I brought you what you asked for.” She says as she is getting closer and closer to where the girl is, that for some reason she is kind of familiar.

Her mouth opens in awe as the girl gets up and removes her sunglasses.... Shit, it's the girl she faced last week at school, dammit.

You can't believe what your eyes are seeing. Leaving your glasses aside, you sit straight watching the girl from days ago approach with a tray.

What a fucking coincidence.

“Hello again.” You say with a mocking tone seeing her stiff the moment she is just steps away from you “You can let the stuff here.” You point at the little table next to you. She doesn't say anything but does what you said. Suddenly your phone rings, and seeing San’s name on the screen makes you take it in a hurry “San?”

“Hi, doll. I have what you asked for.”

“Go ahead.” You smile as you lie back again without taking your eyes off the girl who is waiting for you to give her the order to leave.

“Her name is Seo DannWo, she is nineteen years old, she is in her first year of school and recently moved to Seoul.”

“What about her parents?”

“There is no information about her father, but her mother works for rich people.”

You let out a scoff, and then address the girl "What's your name? Or is it still none of my business?”

She lowers her gaze and murmurs "DannWo."

“Last name?”

“Seo.”

And finally you really laugh, you think all this is quite funny “Thank you Sannie, on Monday I have something very important to say to you, goodbye!” You hang up and sigh, eyeing her up and down. She is not wearing a maid uniform, so you assume that only her mother works here “I don't think your mother can pay the tuition with her salary, do you have a scholarship?”

Of all that Dann imagined you would ask her, she never imagined that you would ask that question.

“No, I… My mom asked your parents to help her give me a better education.”

You nod, your smile getting bigger and bigger “You also live here with the rest of the staff?” She nods with her head down “So my parents gave your mom a job, they paid for your tuition, you live here and you still talk to me that way last week?” You ask with a mocking pout.

She immediately denies it, almost scared. She doesn't want to get his mom in a problem with your family just because of what she did “No, no! I had no idea who you were, I didn't do it on purpose, I just wanted to help Joong.”

You frown at that nickname “Joong? Are you two best friends now or something? You don't even know him and–” Of course, that must be “Oh my god.” You giggle covering your mouth, she cannot be for real right now “You like him, don't you?” You see how her cheeks redden and she plays with her hands in an anxious gesture, you scoff “Don't worry, I don't pretend to tell him.” Your smile fades, for some reason a hint of jealousy surrounds you “You can leave now.”

Without thinking twice, Dann says goodbye with a nod and returns inside the house, almost running. You smile mischievously, you're going to have a lot of fun with her.

You put a strawberry in your mouth and while you chew, you take your phone and go to the kitchen, where you assume she has gone and indeed. When you enter the huge kitchen you see her next to an older woman, she must be her mother.

Dann manages to see you out of the corner of her eye and curses internally, she's still nervous about what just happened out there and she's afraid you'll tell her mom what she did last week.

“Excuse me…” You say in a fake sweet tone that almost makes Dann roll her eyes.

The woman turns around and gives you a smile when she recognizes you “Hello dear, do you need anything?”

“Oh no, I just wanted to confirm something.” You smile when you see the panic in Dann's eyes.

The lady looks at you a little confused but doesn't ask any more “Very well, if you need anything else don't hesitate to tell me.”

“In fact, I need something, can you pick up what I left near the pool? I'm full, but still thank you for your effort cutting all those fruits for me.” The mockery in your tone does not go unnoticed by both women, Dann feels anger immediately but before she can tell you anything impudent her mother speaks.

“Of course, miss YN, in a moment I will.” She says kindly, giving little importance to her discomfort.

You nod with a smile but then you make a slight playful grimace “Why doesn't she do it?” You point out the minor without embarrassment, who frowns in annoyance.

“She is not part of the staff, she is my daughter.”

You open your eyes with fake surprise “Ahh... I didn't know, as she was the one who attended me a few minutes ago. I thought that my parents were doing some kind of charity by giving work to a little girl.” You shrug your shoulders letting out the sweetest giggle you can. “Sorry for the confusion.” Your fake pout makes Dann boil with rage.

She clenches her fists furiously, if she thought you were a spoiled child before, now she has it more than confirmed. Now she understands what Hongjoong told her the day she confronted you.

“Don't worry, miss YN.” The woman smiled uncomfortably.

“Anyway, goodbye.” You cynically say goodbye to both of them and head to your room trying not to laugh loudly.

It will certainly be a lot of fun to have her around.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

“Her mother works at your house?! Oh my god!” She is such a loser.” Mindy says aloud and you smile nodding.

Your friends laugh when the mentioned girl walks through the cafeteria holding her tray with breakfast, looking for a place to sit. You frown when you see her make her way to the table where Hongjoong and his friends are sitting.

“Mindy, shouldn't Hongjoong give us our chemistry homework?” You ask Mindy without taking your eyes off those two.

She nods “That's right, love. I don't know why it's taking him so long if it's delivered after lunch.” At her complaint, you point to where he is sitting, she turns to look and smiles mockingly when she notices Dann talking calmly with Hongjoong “It's obvious that that bitch is flirting with him, oh god… What a pity.”

Your lips curl into a smug smile as you lean back in your chair, crossing your arms "Babe, why don’t you go remind Hongjoong of his priorities?”

Mindy immediately grabs her bag and stands, flipping her hair over her shoulder "With pleasure." The rest of the group snickers, their laughter carrying across the cafeteria.

You watch as Mindy strides toward Hongjoong's table, where Dann is animatedly gesturing about something, her face lighting up with every word. Hongjoong chuckles, and your perfectly sculpted eyebrows furrow slightly.

It’s been two fucking weeks since then, and now they are this close?

"She’s bold, I’ll give her that" You mutter under your breath. Then louder, so your friends can hear, "Too bad boldness doesn’t equal brains."

The table erupts into laughter again, gaining the attention of more people in the cafeteria, but your focus remains on the scene playing out before you.

Mindy taps Hongjoong’s shoulder with a perfectly manicured finger "Hongjoong." She says sweetly, but her tone carries an edge, "I was wondering where my and YN’s homework is. You know, the one that’s due after lunch? Maybe you should focus on that instead of… whatever this is." She gestures vaguely toward Dann.

Dann’s expression hardens, but she doesn’t back down "We’re just talking. Is that a problem?"

"Who does she think she is?" You mutter, more to yourself than anyone else.

Mindy raises an eyebrow "Not for me, but maybe it’s a problem for someone who knows how things work around here."

Hongjoong shifts uncomfortably, glancing between the two girls "I’ve got the homework, Mindy. I’ll bring it to you and YN before lunch, okay?"

“Joong, you don't have to keep doing this crap! You—”

Mindy cuts her off, her tone icy "Trust me, nerd, I’m doing him a favor." She leans closer, smirking. Dann opens her mouth to retort, but Mindy’s already pivoting back to Hongjoong, ignoring her "It’s so sweet how she’s trying to stick up for you, though. Like a little puppy following everywhere. Does she know?" She says with mock, leaning in conspiratorially, voice dropping just for him to hear "Does she know you’re only doing this because you think YN’s going to notice you? God, that’s adorable."

Hongjoong’s face burns red. He stammers, "It’s not like that—"

"Oh, it’s exactly like that." Mindy interrupts, her grin widening "But keep dreaming, pet. Maybe someday she will, I don’t know, let you carry her books or something."

The laughter grows louder, and Dann stands abruptly, slamming her tray on the table "Why don’t you shut up, Mindy?" She snaps, her voice shaking with anger.

"Dann, stop." Hongjoong said through gritted teeth, cutting her off. He pushes his chair back and stands, glaring at her "You’re not helping."

"But Hongjoong—"

"I said stop!" He snaps, his voice louder than he intended.

The cafeteria falls quiet for a moment, and Hongjoong looks around, realizing everyone’s staring at him. His face burns hotter, and he storms out of the cafeteria without another word. Dann hesitates for a moment, torn between following him and staying put, but Mindy’s triumphant smirk keeps her rooted in place.

"Wow, pet got mad." You say, and your friend chuckles.

Hongjoong, who storms down an empty hallway, his anger bubbling over. He clenches his fists, his mind racing with humiliation and frustration. He thinks of you and your perfect, untouchable world. For a brief, desperate moment, he feels like everything would be better if he were part of it, if you wanted him, if he belonged with you.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

It's finally Friday, not much happened this week besides the constant martyrdom of seeing Dann and Hongjoong together, they looked like ticks, together everywhere.

But taking away your annoyance, you couldn't stop thinking about how good Hongjoong looked that you almost forgot that he was still a nerdy. You couldn't deny that his new look was totally your type, you noticed the way he plays around with different textures in order to highlight some clothes, but he always keeps it cool and trendy.

And you love it, and If he wasn't a nobody, you swear you'd already flirted with him, but life isn't perfect.

You were walking through the school’s garden while waiting for the class you skipped to end, your friends warned you that the teacher already had you under his strict gaze and if you didn't attend his class he would fail you. In any case, there is no one who can resist a good bribe with banknotes.

Letting out a bored sigh, you lean your back on the trunk of a tree while you take out a strawberry-flavored cigarette and light it by taking a puff. It’s spring so the sun is intense and the leaves of the trees are a beautiful green color, without realizing it you are appreciating the landscape.

Hongjoong sees you from afar, appreciating your beauty and overthinking if it is a good idea what he wants to ask you. Taking a deep breath he starts to walk towards you, heart pounding as he walks closer. Your glossy lips curled in mild annoyance when you looked at him.

"Hongjoong.” You say, dragging hard on the cigarette "What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be hiding in class answering everything the teacher asks?"

Without thinking Hongjoong drops to his knees, so fast that the sound of them hitting the soil reverberates through the place. You blink, startled.

"Please." He says, his voice cracking "I’ll do anything. Just make me popular."

You raise an eyebrow, your lips twitching into a smirk. You know that he is trying to change the way others see and treat him, you know of his efforts by changing the way he dresses, you know it very well. But you never imagined him begging on his knees to be popular.

"Anything?"

He stares up at you, his eyes wild and desperate "You don’t get it, I can’t do this anymore. Being invisible, being nobody. Please, YN. I’ll do whatever you want."

Tilting your head, you exhale a slow plume of smoke, watching the desperation in his eyes "You’re serious." You say slowly, your tone almost amused.

Hongjoong nods frantically, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes "Yes! Just tell me what to do. If you want me to do your homework forever, I will. If you want me to carry your bags, clean your shoes…. Anything."

"That's your dream, to be popular?" You say with mockery. Hongjoong nods again, his knees pressing harder into the soil.

"Yes! I’ll lie for you, hurt anyone you want, sell my soul for you. I’ll even—" His voice drops to a whisper, barely audible "I’ll kill for you. Just… please."

You study him for a long moment, the cigarette dangling between your fingers, your smirk returns "You’re pathetic, but I guess I could work with that."

Hongjoong’s heart leaps "Really? You will?"

You shrug, throwing away the cigarette "Maybe. But it’s going to cost you, Kim. Show me that you’re not just another sad little nerd with a crush.”

His eyes wide open, how did you know about his crush on you? He has always been so cautious.

“How did you…” His voice drops when he sees you smile.

“Oh, honey. It was obvious, the way you looked at me, the way you talked to me, and the way you tried to change just to fit.” You pat his head and scoff when you see him close his eyes, enjoying your touch. “That's why I’m going to give you a chance, but you have to prove you're worth my time.”

"I will," He says quickly, his voice rising in desperation "I’ll prove it, just tell me what to do."

You lean down, your face inches from his and he holds his breath, you look even more beautiful this close.

"Let’s start simple. Seo DannWo. She’s just another nerd following you around because she thinks you're cool.” A cruel smile curves your mouth “Cut her off, publicly. Humiliate her if you have to. Show me you’re serious about being popular."

Hongjoong hesitates, his breath hitching. For a moment, guilt flickers in his eyes, but it’s quickly snuffed out by the overwhelming need clawing at his chest.

"I will do it." He whispers, his voice hoarse.

You straighten, your smile widening "Good boy, you can sit with us today. See you at lunch."

As you turn and saunters away, leaving Hongjoong still on his knees, his fists clenched, and his heart pounding with equal parts shame and exhilaration. But if he wants to be at your side he would do anything for you.

✮ ⋆

Lunch time. Hongjoong had never felt scared to go there like today, not even when you and your friends humiliated him. Dann was the first and only person that has defended him and been friends with. He feels so bad, he doesn't want to do this… But if he wants to change and be with you, he must.

With heavy steps he walks towards the table you and your friends use everyday without looking where his friends are sitting.

“Joong!” Dann calls him with a smile when she sees him step in the place, and you did too.

You smile when Hongjoong ignores Dann. You settle better in your seat, setting aside your food to put all your attention on what would happen next.

“Joong, I saved you a seat next to me.” She grabs his jacket sleeve making him stop there, his friends looking at him strangely. He has been evading them since the last two hours of class. “We need to talk about the new volume of the book, we are going to read it together, right?”

Hoonjong closes his eyes, mentally preparing himself for what he's going to do. He can feel your intense gaze on him “No, Dann. We are not going to read it together." He says letting go of her grip.

"What? Why not?” She asks, totally confused, they have worked together on projects since they met, more than three weeks ago.

“I have stuff to do with YN." He murmurs, it wasn’t a complete lie.

Dann rolls her eyes “If that rich girl is forcing you to do it just to take advantage of you, tell me and I'll put a damn stop to that brat." Dann says furiously, she can't let the boy she likes go through these situations.

“She didn't force me to do anything, I offered myself." Literally, he begged you on his knees "So find someone else to read the book."

And with that he walked to where you were observing everything. His friends made a sound of surprise when they saw him sitting next to you. What the hell is happening?

“What is he doing sitting with the queen bee?!” Yunho asks in shock, believing that his glasses need magnification because he can't believe what he's seeing.

“Is he crazy?” Yeosang blurts out in surprise.

Jongho simply frowns in confusion at his friend's sudden action... Why are you suddenly smiling at him and chatting with him as if you were friends from years ago?

Meanwhile; Dann is in complete shock and with a thousand questions running around in her head. How did that happen? Why did he act so distant with her? Did she do something that made him upset? And most importantly. What are you up to?

“So… is he going to Wooyoung’s party tomorrow night?” Mindy asks carefully, It was strange to have the nerd they humiliated for three years sitting in their group.

You gave the order to treat him as an equal... your reasons? They don't know them, but they don't intend to question you.

“Of course! It's going to be his welcome to our world.” You say giving Hongjoong a smile, which makes him blush and look away.

While you resume your lunch you feel an intense gaze on you, when you look up to see who is the person who seems to be penetrating you. You meet Dann's glance, you make eye contact and it seems that you are challenging each other. She challenges you with a hard look and you just smile and give her a wink before turning your attention to your social circle.

“Do you have a car, pet– I.. sorry, I mean. Hongjoong.” You friend let an awkward chuckle at your raised eyebrow, shit.

It will be complicated to call him by his name.

“No, I don't.” He mutters, feeling embarrassed. Not a minute has passed and his low status is already remarkable.

“It's okay, I will pick you up. Pass me your address.”

Your friends look at you a little surprised, you never pick anyone up. Not even them.

“I don’t… I don’t have your phone number.”

Without thinking much about it, you take his cell phone from the table and turn it on, frowning when you see that it asks for a password.

"Password." You say but with no intention of returning the phone.

Hongjoong opens his eyes in surprise, and regrets not changing it sooner “It's your birthday date.” He mumbles it so quietly that you can barely hear it.

You giggle and type in your birthday date, and your eyes widen when the phone is unlocked... For a moment you thought he was joking.

You quickly add your contact by registering it with your name and a red heart, and return it to him with an innocent smile.

“Give me your address, later I will give you the details of the party.”

He nods as he blushes at the sight of the heart next to your name. He just got your number. The bell makes known the end of lunchtime. You see your friends take their things and get up but you don't do any of that, you just watch them.

“Are you going to skip this class too?”

Mindy looks at you worried, you already have too many reports for doing so. Hongjoong looks at you waiting for your answer, he also didn't move from his place waiting for you to tell him what to do.

“I need to talk to our new member alone, I'll see you later.” You force them to leave and as usual, none of them question you and they say goodbye with their hand.

Suddenly, Hongjoong feels nervous to be alone with you, he never knows what to expect from you.

“Okay, I've got your next step to being popular.” You say with a mocking smile, you still find his plea to be popular ridiculous. He nods and waits for you to speak again “Ask Dann for forgiveness.” When you say that, Hongjoong looks at you confused, what did you just say? “And you have to force her to go to Wooyoung's party.”

“I think it will be strange for me to apologize after what I told her, and I don't think she would go to that party, even if I asked her to.” You roll your eyes annoyed, you hate it when people put ‘buts’ on your orders.

“It's not a suggestion, it's an order, Hongjoong.” He stiffened at your harsh tone “That little bitch will be more than happy if you talk to her again. You got her in the palm of your hands, and you have to take advantage of that, baby.”

Hongjoong blushes at the pet name “If you ask her for something, she will do it without asking. And do you know why?” You bring your face close to his, noticing his cute features. He swallows nervously. Having you so close was always his dream, but now that he has you in front of him, he feels his cheeks burning. Faced with no response, you decide to continue.

“Because she knows you're cute and smart, and she likes you so much that she'll do anything to get your attention. Sounds familiar?” You smile when you feel his gaze go from your eyes to your lips. “If I was her, I would do the same too.” You whisper, raising your hand to cover his cheek, giving light caresses with your thumb that make him close his eyes in satisfaction.

“After all, underneath all those horrible clothes is an interesting boy and I hope to take advantage of him.” He opens his eyes suddenly, your words meaning more than they should “So? Will you follow my orders or not?”

“Of course I will,” He responds immediately “I promised you that I would do anything for you.”

For you or for being popular?

“Good, see you tomorrow night.”

You pat his cheek and stand up heading for the exit of the cafeteria leaving Hongjoong completely alone, processing everything you've said.

What stands out the most: You said that he is cute and intelligent and that he has potential. That's a lot more than he ever hoped for.

✮ ⋆

When the last class was over, Hongjoong quickly grabbed all his stuff and headed to the only place Dann could be at the time: the library on the third floor.

Without looking or saying goodbye to his friends, he hurried to that place and when he entered through the large doors, he could see Dann sitting on a table near the window surrounded by books and scribbling notes in her notebook.

Hongjoong walks toward her clearing his throat nervously “Hey, Dann.”

Dann looks up, surprised “Hoongjoong?” She thought that after what happened at lunch he wouldn't talk to her anymore.

“Mind if I sit?” Dann nods “Look, I wanted to talk about… you know, what happened today.”

She glances back at her notes “What about it?” She mutters while doing doodles on her notebook.

“I didn’t mean to do that, I know I’ve been acting weird since yesterday, but… I really enjoy being with you.”

“You do?” She raises an eyebrow and Hongjoong nods earnestly.

“Yeah. I mean, you’ve been there for me, and I feel bad for… not being there for you, too.”

“It did kind of suck, you know? We said we'd read the book when it was on sale.”

And he really wanted to read that book with her “I know. I messed up, and I’m sorry. I really want to make it up to you.”

Dann tilts her head, curious “How?”

Swallowing hard, Hongjoong says what you told him earlier “Come to Wooyoung’s party tomorrow night.” Hongjoong can see the confusion on her face

“A party? Joong, that’s not really our thing.”

“I know, but… it’s important to me. I think it could be fun.” He smiles nervously, scratching the back of his head.

“I don’t know, I wouldn’t fit in with those rich people.”

“You wouldn’t have to, you’d just… be there with me.” This feels so wrong and something inside of him says that you have something bad planned for tomorrow.

“With you?” Dann's cheeks flush slightly when Hongjoong nods with a smile “Okay.” She whispers, looking down at her books embarrassed.

He looked at her with shock, he didn't think it would be so easy to convince her. You were right, if he asks she will do anything for him.

“Really? Thank you, Dann!”

She smiles shyly “Thanks for saying sorry, Joong. It means a lot, I’ll see you at the party.”

“See you tomorrow.” Hongjoong nods while standing up.

Dann watches him leave, her heart fluttering even though she knows she shouldn’t get her hopes up. This doesn't mean anything, she keeps repeating to herself.

As Hongjoong walks quickly towards the exit, he feels the vibration of his phone in his pants pocket. He pulls it out quickly, and a little smile forms on his lips when he sees your name in his notifications, but that smile disappears when he reads the content.

YN♡: Have you done what I told you to do? I hope so. I can't wait to see that bitch's face when she finds out that your cute action is just a farce.

However, his cheeks turn red, and his heart pounds as he reads the following message.

YN♡: Anyway, see you tomorrow, babe ♡♡

You certainly have him in the palm of your hand, and you will take advantage of it.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

Notes: Remember that this is a slow burn romance, so this is just the beginning. The best part is coming in the next chapter!!

Taglist: @m0onchild-98 @luvvvash @a-tiny-thing @cheolright @innocygnet @silenttrxxs @alliecoady98 @posseup

You can be part of the Taglist: Here

All rights reserved ♡bunny-hwa. Do not copy or translate my work.

☆○☆○☆

[solxamber]

⋆˚✿˖ 𝐓𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐖𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐈 ˖✿˚⋆

Main Masterlist ; Twst Masterlist II ; Twst Masterlist III

Heartslabyul

Trash Novel Chronicles: System vs World - Riddle x reader

You have a guilty pleasure: trashy villainess stories. So when you die a frankly, humiliating death, and end up in one of the worst ones you've had the pleasure of reading, you're in denial. Then the villain system shows up. Well, there goes your second chance at life So what do you do now? Do villainous things and cause as much chaos as you can, of course. And maybe, just maybe, bag the male lead, Riddle Rosehearts while you're at it.

This is Love - Riddle x Reader

3 times he notices your acts of love and realizes it doesn't have to be grand and overdramatic like the movies, it could just be like this– sweet and considerate.

Dragon's Favorite Sacrifice - Trey x Reader

Trey finds himself volunteering to be the human sacrifice to you, an ancient dragon, in place of his siblings. What he didn't expect was to become your housekeeper instead of being eaten.

Cocoa Conspiracy - Trey x reader {Request}

He knew you as his partner, the love of his life, but he didn't realize your real identity: a spy vying for pastry destruction.

Donuts and Dark Arts - Trey x reader

All Trey wanted to do was deliver the bread he was supposed to and be on his merry way. Instead, he stumbles on you... in the middle of a ritual?

Birthday Party - Trey x reader {Request}

Trey is more worried than suspicious when you keep disappearing and acting suspicious. He gets more worried when the rest of heartslabyul join in. (Spoiler alert: he doesn't need to be)

Crisis Averted - Cater x reader

After a royal screw up, Cater is left scrambling trying to fix his mistake before you find out. Best part? You've known what he did from the start and you think it's hilarious.

Moments in Bloom - Cater x reader

Cater’s life is a perfect illusion, curated with smiles and snapshots. But beneath the surface, he wonders—what would it be like to be truly seen? To finally stop pretending and let himself bloom?

Forgiveness - Deuce Spade x reader

When Deuce accidentally breaks an item that you treasured, he's worries that he's broken your trust as well. But there's nothing that can't be fixed with a hug and an apology.

Savanaclaw

Knights and Oaths - Leona x reader

You come from a long line of knights that have served the rulers of the Savannah. But sometimes traditions are meant to change and the second prince is looking like someone worth changing them for.

Trash Novel Chronicles: Love Triangles and Royal Rumbles - Leona x reader

When you get isekai'd as the male lead in the novel where your favorite character, Leona Kingscholar is the second male lead, all that's left to do is rewrite the romance!

Burn Wild - Leona x reader

Always so close, yet so far away. Leona pushes it down—he keeps pushing and pushing, until one day, he lets it break.

Royal Scandal - Ruggie x reader (personal favorite)

You're being forced to marry someone to take the throne you've fought your entire life for. Okay, if that's how it is, you'll make sure to choose the one person here that your dearest parents will disapprove of the most.

Octavinelle

Shark Tanks and Shady Deals - Azul x reader

After narrowly dodging a one-way trip to the sharks, you've hit rock bottom, career-wise. Enter Azul: your friendly (totally-not-shady) talent manager. In a moment of desperation, you sign with him. Wait, he's actually really good at this. Like, too good at this. Maybe the near-shark experience was just the universe’s weird way of setting you up?

Trash Novel Chronicles: Not Another Royal Mess - Azul x Reader

As a proofreader who gets isekai’d into a cringeworthy novel, you decide to take revenge on the heroine and male lead for their awful story. With Azul—who just wanted to sell you a magic rock—pulled into your chaos.

Love Bites - Floyd x reader

You like him quite a bit, you really do but you're really questioning your decisions after some time spent with him ends up sending you to the ER.

Match Made in Madness - Floyd x reader

Soulmates get updates of each other's lives through an overly enthusiastic dream narrator. What's worse is that your soulmate seems to be completely unhinged.

Witch, Please - Floyd x reader

You're the best witch to go to for getting the job done. Your potions? Absolutely foolproof. At least, that's what you thought until a certain Floyd Leech waltzed into your store.

Cakes and Crime - Jade x reader

After a long week of assignments and sleep deprivation, all you wanted to do was satisfy your craving for a specific pastry at your local shady café. What you didn't mean to do was accidentally order a hit on yourself.

Love in Contempt - Jade x reader

When you take your ex, Jade to court over a ceramic octopus, the reason he wants it so badly might be sweeter than you thought.

Scarabia

Recipe for Love - Kalim x reader

You know you can't cook, your cat knows you can't cook, everyone who has seen your lunch box knows you can't cook. So why is Kalim so insistent on eating the monstrosities you conjure?

Rest Assured - Jamil x reader

4 times you see Jamil nearing his breaking point and the 1 time you intervene.

Pomefiore

Trash Novel Chronicles: Please Let Me Live - Vil x reader (personal favourite)

You get isekai'd into the worst novel you've had the misfortune of reading because apparently your life is a cosmic joke. Now all you have to do is not act like the character you've possessed and it'll be fine, you think?

Your fiancé being Vil Schoenheit makes it a little harder to behave like a human being with functional braincells, but hey, atleast he likes you, you think?

Fairytales and Fever Dreams - Vil x Reader

When you decide to beg a fairy for help at your lowest point, you didn't expect that he'd decide to help you— at the cost of you making skincare for him.

Of Seashells and Sweet Nothings - Vil x Reader

You're cursed to love everyone except Vil, and he's cursed to love only you. And yet somewhere along the way, it seems the cursed gene has skipped you.

aka Merman! Vil x reader

Roommate Rumble - Vil x Reader

You and Vil end up as roommates due to administrative error. Unstoppable force (Vil's perfectionism) meets immovable object (your chaos). It ends up working out perfectly.

Date(?) Night - Rook x reader

Rook is convinced that you have feelings for him after your "date". You have no idea what he's talking about, considering that you've never been on a date with him.

Ruler of My Heart - Rook x Reader (personal favorite)

He has always pursued beauty, and he sees everything. But has he ever been seen?

Ignihyde

Coughing up Love - Idia x reader

You don't think much of it when Idia starts acting weird because let's be real, that seems to be his default around you. Wait are those flowers he's coughing up?

Reaper's Guide to Romance- Idia x reader

When reaper Idia Shroud is assigned to collect your soul, he can't help but come up with increasingly ridiculous excuses to spare you.

Trash Novel Chronicles: I Want to Retire - Idia x reader

You write a novel that reads like a dumpster fire and while trying to delete the draft, you accidentally get isekai’d into it. Now, as the villainess you have to get Idia Shroud on your side as well as survive high society. You have your work cut out for you.

Hook, Line and Shy Guy - Idia x reader

Idia loves your shark tail. You think it's adorable.

Diasomnia

Kidnapped(?) - Malleus x reader

You were sick of the taxes imposed by the aristocrats in your already poverty stricken village. Your idea of a solution? Kidnap their young master , and make them reduce taxes as the ransom, of course. Only problem is that you went into the wrong manor and kidnapped the wrong young master.

How Not to Court Your Crush: A Disaster in Six Acts - Malleus Draconia x reader

You're trying to court Malleus so why is he acting so weird? Malleus is trying to court you, so why are you acting so weird?

aka you try fae courtship and malleus tries human courtship, you both fail spectacularly.

Trash Novel Chronicles: Accidentally Falling For a Fae Prince - Malleus x reader

When you get dragged into a novel which ends with the heroine in a polycule with the most annoying men in literature, you decide that you're gonna skip town. ...Only to trip over the fae prince, Malleus Draconia.

How to Tame Your Dragon - Malleus x reader (personal favorite)

Since you and Malleus have gotten into a relationship, you've become a bona-fide dragon soother. But whenever you fumble, the entirety of NRC faces the consequences.

aka the 7 times you cause ecological disasters and the 1 time it works out for you.

Trash Novel Chronicles: I'd Rather Date the Male Lead's Dad - Lilia x reader

When you end up in your best friend's favourite but absurd novel about breaking a fae prince's curse, you didn't expect to get attached to his little family too. Even more unexpected? You fell for the male lead's dad, but hey, it looks like he likes you too.

Others

Frights and Fancies - Skully J. Graves x reader

Doing Halloween prep with Skully! (This is Grim's Night before before Halloween) {written before the full event is out so might end up ooc}

Chasing Fairytales - Neige LeBlanche x Reader

Neige is convinced that you're either allergic to him specifically or he's done something to offend you with the way you're avoiding him. You're just trying not to get blinded by his smile.

Project Love - Rollo Flamme x reader

When your eccentric professor pairs you and Rollo up for a study on attachment types, you didn't realise how much it would change your lives.

Romance Roulette- Rollo Flamme x reader

You, Rollo's self-proclaimed bestfriend, have been trying to set him up with someone for the past few weeks. If all your plans fail, maybe you should do it yourself?

Homecoming - Rollo Flamme x reader

You come home after a long work trip. Rollo is happy to have you back.

Sweet Encounter - Rollo Flamme x reader

You really want the parfait that's exclusive to couples. So you you do what anyone would do, pretend a random stranger in the café is your partner of course.

Escape Route - Rollo Flamme x reader

You're stuck at a party that you frankly don't give a damn about. And Rollo Flamme looks like he would rather do anything else than be here, so you grab him and bounce.

Yours to Keep - Rollo Flamme x reader

Rollo is calm, collected and confident. Jealous? Rollo Flamme? No way! ...unless?

Stolen Kisses - Rollo Flamme x reader

5 times you kiss him and the 1 time he kisses you

Multi Characters

Hanahaki with Overblot Gang

Making Up After an Argument with Overblot Gang + Rollo

Period Simulator with Adeuce + Overblot Gang + Rollo

Requests

Rook Hunt x reader (Shape-shifter! reader)

Malleus Draconia x Reader (24 Plum Blossom User! Reader)

All NRC + Staff + Rollo, Neige, Chen'ya (Wild cat beastman reader)

Dorm Leaders + Jamil (Colorblind reader)

Idia Shroud x reader (Sentient Otome Game NPC! reader) // Part 2

Azul Ashengrotto x reader (Insecure Mer-form Azul x reader, hurt/comfort)

All NRC + Staff + Rollo, Neige (White Rabbit! reader)

White Rabbit! Reader overblots

Aftermath of White Rabbit! Reader's Overblot

Epel, Vil x reader (Teaching Epel Capoeira)

Vil, (platonic) Crewel x reader (Fashion disaster reader)

Rest of the characters react to fashion disaster reader

Malleus Draconia x reader(Insecure reader, hurt/comfort, happy ending)

Lilia Vanrouge x reader (NPC! Reader)

Pomefiore x reader (Artist!Admirer! reader)

Heartslabyul, Octavinelle, Pomefiore + Che'nya (Absolem! reader)

Savanaclaw, Scarabia, Ignihyde, Diasomnia + NRC Staff + Neige (Absolem! reader)

Malleus, Vil, Jade with Angel!Reader

Jamil, Rook, Vil, Lilia with cherub! reader

Tweels with a strong reader

Idia x reader (Reader gets turned into a cat)

Jamil, Azul with a super talented reader

Lilia with a reader who behaves like General Lilia

Leona with an unhinged reader

Vil, Malleus with an unhinged reader

All NRC + Staff + Rollo (Reader shapeshifts according to emotion)

7th Overblot Aftermath - All NRC + Staff (Hurt/Comfort)

Rollo Flamme x reader / Part 2 / Part 3

Savanaclaw, Scarabia with a silly but mature reader

Ace, Deuce, Silver with artistic reader

Grim vs Cat (Idia x reader)

Deuce, Riddle, Ace, Epel with Pomefiore! reader

Jade, Jamil, Azul with 'The Cat'! Reader

Vil, Rook Idia with 'The Cat'! Reader

Delinquent Deuce x Delinquent reader

Pomefiore + Jamil with a Maternal! reader

All NRC(-Ortho), Rollo, Neige, Che'nya with M! Incubus! Reader

Trey, Jamil, Platonic Adeuce with Rich! reader

All NRC + Staff + Rollo, Neige, Najma Viper with Slime! reader

Skully J. Graves with a Huohuo! reader

Overblot gang + Ruggie with a Princess! Reader

Idia, Cater, Rollo comforting recovering reader (Warning: Mentions of SH)

Octavinelle with Shark! Reader

Sam x reader(platonic)

Octavinelle, Diasomnia x Freshwater Stingray! Reader