#That header is really bad I am sorry...

[vroomvroomcircuit]

Plushie Kidnapping

(A/N): This one just ran away from me.

Summary: Max accidentally packed his girlfriends favorite plush toy. Now it's his chance to show her how good he can care for her loyalst compagnon.

Pairing: Max Verstappen x reader, Max interacting with other drivers

Wordcount: 2.2k

🏎Masterlist🏎 ___________________________

(Y/N) is on her way home from work when her boyfriend called her. She accepts the call through the car’s entertainment program, excited to hear Max’s voice after a grueling day.

“Hey Baby,” She greets him while steering the car along the streets. A smile takes place on her face, always giddy to talk to her love. “Schatje,” Max breathes into his phone, “how was your day?”

After some small talk and light banter, (Y/N) taxis her car into the parking space of her apartment building. “Are you home?” Max asks, hesitation in his voice. The young woman frowns upon hearing that. “Yeah, but we don’t need to end the call.” She assures him.

The driver hesitates again. “I made a… let's call it a moderately bad mistake.” He confesses, his voice quiet. (Y/N) stops in her tracks as she previously rummaged in her purse for her key. She looks up at the car’s display, as if it’s Max itself standing in front of her, wringing his hands with a nervous smile.

But he is not, instead he stands in a hotel room thousand of kilometers away from his girlfriend, staring at an object on his bed. She clears her throat, her little bubble of giddy having burst. “What?”

Her sharp tone makes Max wince. “This morning I did some last minute packing and - please don’t be mad at me - I may have accidentally, unwanted, really, by mistake… packed your little lion plushie.” Said toy stares back at Max accusatory. The Dutchman swears he is getting judged by it.

(Y/N) is silent for several moments. Max feels the weight though the line. He wishes for nothing more than to be able to turn back time to put the soft lion back onto her bed. Finally, (Y/N) sighs. “It’s” She starts and stops again, taking a deep breath. “You are on a triple header, right?”

That was more of a theoretical question. Of course she knows the answer. The date of his return, nearly four weeks away, is circled red in her calendar. Max doesn’t see the point in answering, instead choosing to keep quiet.

(Y/N) nods. “I- okay. You are sure you got Leon? The Leon who has been with me for most of my life? Who has been here before you?” She is waving her hands around as she is talking, still sitting in the car.

Max sits, pacing around in his hotel room. “I am so so sorry, Schatje. I- sending a package would be way too risky. We can’t have him getting lost somewhere. Or even risk it.” He paces a little more, knowing how much that lion means to his girlfriend. “I will have someone take my jet and fly Leon back to you.” At that (Y/N) lets out a humorless laugh. “Max, that’s too extreme. It’s okay. I will manage without Leon. Just… gosh this sounds pathetic. But please. Make sure he is safe. He means so much to me, even though he is just a plush animal.” (Y/N)’s voice gets quieter and quieter.

He stops in his tracks. “I promise you, Schatje. He is in the second best hands possible. No one can top yours, of course.” (Y/N) smiles to herself, albeit a bit warily. Okay. I trust you.”

Soon after, they end the call and the young woman finally leaves her car to enter her apartment.

For the remainder of the day her mind circles back to her plush animal. It was gifted to her some time during her early childhood days. (Y/N) doesn’t have a single memory or picture without that little yellow plush lion.

When she is making dinner, her phone pings. Max’s contact name with an attached photo lights the screen up. Curiously, (Y/N) puts the knife she used for chopping vegetables down and opens the messenger app.

The first thing she sees is Leon, sitting in front of an empty plate. Then the young woman spots her boyfriend, having taken a selfie of himself and her plushie during dinner, his own plate being filled. Leon is taking your spot during our dinner dates, I hope you don’t mind! Max texted her with the picture.

(Y/N) giggles to herself, her worries being eased for now. I hope you insist on paying like you do with me! Don’t let my best friend starve though. Love you two! After that, he sends her a picture of Leon sitting in front of a plate filled with a few peas. Not letting the little man starve, trust me.

And this is a common recurrence during the following weeks. Every day Max sends his girlfriend several pictures of him and Leon in different situations.

During the first weekend, Max brought Leon with him into the paddock, his little head looking out of his backpack. With a red bull can in hand and a smile on his face, he enters the paddock and is immediately greeted by different media personnel.

One of the red bull social media girls catch him on his hot girl paddock walk. “Hey Max. What’s up with the lion? Is this another opportunity to sell?” She asks, keeping up with his step and holding up the phone to film him for their instagram and tiktok channels.

He laughs a bit, tucking some hair behind his ear. “Oh no, he's my girlfriend’s most loyal companion in life and I accidentally packed him up. I promised her to take care of Leon during the triple header, and I felt like he would have been too lonely in my hotel room. So I’m showing him the paddock.” He explains, waving his arm around and pointing towards the plushie in his backpack.

That clip goes viral quicker than any video that had the word “inchident” uttered.

Soon enough, (Y/N) gets another photo of them, Leon being placed on a treadmill next to Max’s, “training” at the gym together. The picture has been taken by Rupert.

A few minutes later, the young woman receives a video of Leon bench pressing some very small weights, with Max spotting him. “He is very strong, I can see now why he is your actual protector instead of me”, he winks into the camera before the recording ends.

By the end of the first race of the triple header, the whole team has already been roped into the spiel of showing (Y/N) how good the Dutchman takes care of her stuffed companion.

Especially the red bull social media team jumped onto that wagon. They make clips of Leon getting a spa treatment at a place specialized on stuffed animals. They take Max and Leon to a zoo, showing him some actual lions. The team also ropes Leon into challenge videos with Yuki, who loses to the stuffed toy every time. (Y/N) gets the first view of course before the video hits all social media channels.

Every single video goes viral. Even other sports try to hop onto that train. But a person in a fursuit for a football team can never step up to be as iconic as a small plush lion.

Soon enough, Leon becomes some kind of mascot for the team, especially for Max.

“Schatje”, he mutters into the phone after turning another pole into a race win, still wet and sticky from champagne combined with red bull, “I think I need to bring Leon to all my races from now on.”

(Y/N) just gasps. “So it was deliberate of you! You packed him on purpose!” Ever since Max has told her that he took the stuffed lion with him, the couple has been bickering whether or not the Dutchman did it intentionally or not. The opinions on both sides are steadfast.

“Lies! Slander! I wouldn’t do such things. Maybe you just need to quit your day job and accompany Leon and me for the rest of the season. I have a championship to win and Leon has a championship winning driver to support!” (Y/N) groans at that. “Come home with my guy first and then we can do some talking. From what I saw, there were attempts to kidnap Leon. Your chances of being able to even have a conversation about my future as part of the workforce will be non-existent if something happens.”

This is true. After other drivers have witnessed the magic of the little lion, plans were made to claim that energy for themselves.

First and foremost the rookies under the lead of Kimi and Ollie tried to make some elaborate plan. In the end they didn’t go through with it, because between them all, they couldn’t agree who is allowed to keep Leon if their plan was to be successful.

Charles actually got close to getting his hands on the trophy in the form of a plush lion as he walked into the paddock with Max during the sunny afternoon for another day of media day. Staying in step with him, the Monegasque put his arm around his shoulder, acting friendly while his hand crawled towards Leon hanging out the backpack. “What is your opinion on the new soft tyre Pirelli introduced yesterday?” He tries to divert his attention.

But there is one thing he hasn’t accounted for, dealing with Max. His lightning fast reflexes. Quickly, Charles’ arm is pinned off Max. “Just touch Leon without my blessing and it’s not only my wrath you’ll get to witness, but (Y/N)’s anger too. And you don’t want to try her.” He warns the Ferrari driver. Charles backs off, a bit scared if he is being honest.

Even through all the evil attempts of commiting crimes, Leon also experiences the full mischief and chaos that comes with the other drivers and daily life in the paddock.

“Has Leon ever tried it?” Yuki asks during a fanzone appearance, gesturing towards said lion that is sat on the table on stage where they held some kind of building blocks challenge against the mclaren boys. The soft toy leans against a can of red bull.

Max is shaking his head laughing while Lando dashes to the front, his excitement barely contained as he puts his own can of Monster next to the red bull. “If he has to try something, it has to be the best energy drink in the world”, he speaks into the microphone. Their sponsors love him.

The Dutchman is quick to set the record straight. “Leon will not try any caffeinated drinks. He is like (Y/N), it would only upset his stomach and make him anxious.” Then he turns towards the crowd. “Especially some sugar water like that neon green piss.” Other sponsors hate him.

The interviewer has some work to do to calm the fans back down.

But also during drivers parades, the stuffed animal has become an icon quickly. It’s the only time where Max lets another driver hold him, since so many eyes and cameras are on them at that moment no one would dare to do something to or with Leon.

To everyone’s surprise, Oscar is weirdly possessive when he gets his fingers on him.

“I feel like it’s my turn to hold him now”, Alex whines as he makes grabby hands towards Oscar, who cradles the stuffy in his arms. He fixates the Thai with a dry look. “Too bad, I have him now.” The Australian successfully fends off everyone's advances of taking Leon from him with his witty remarks and mean glances. Up until the truck is back in the pits, where he gets approached by Max. With a sigh, he hands Leon over. “Ask your girlfriend if she also has a koala. This is weirdly soothing.”

Luckily, eventually all triple headers come to an end. The press later argues that Max’s drive to the airport after the race was faster than his actual fastest lap on track.

Finally, after three poles to wins, Max flies back to his shared apartment with (Y/N) in Monaco. He arrives in the middle of the night, rolling in his suitcase, his backpack slung over his shoulders and gripping Leon tightly in his free hand.

He dumps his luggage at the door quietly to tiptoe into the master bedroom. Max halts in the doorway, his eyes softening as he sees his love cuddled up in tshirt, clutching also one of his hoodies.

While trying to be as silent as possible, he changes out his plane clothes into some pjs before slipping under the blanket on his side of the bed. (Y/N) stirs slightly. Then turns around towards him.

“Did you-” Max already puts the small plush lion into her arms. “I did”, he reassures her with a gentle smile. He pulls her into his arms, before sighting satisfied. This is his home.

“He smells like you.” “Me?” (Y/N) hums, close to falling asleep again. “Like burnt rubber and victory.”

Max chuckles and presses a kiss to her forehead. “And you smell like home.” He whispers, knowing she has fallen asleep already. While he looks at her, wishing he can take (Y/N) with him like he did with Leon. Carrying his love in his pocket at all times.

[haeiheart]

LEE DONGHYUCK | NOT A BIG DEAL

LEE DONGHYUCK

SUMMARY: You and Hyuck have always been inseparable. Best friends who stick together through every minor inconvenience, every 2 AM fast-food run, and especially every party. Their little deal? If they’re both single and drunk at a party, they make out for a good time and purely to avoid awkward hookups with strangers. No feelings, no complications. It’s a good deal no? But when a new guy, Jeno, enters y/n life just like that. They both feel that for the first time, their “not a big deal” deal feels like it might’ve always been something bigger.

GENRE: friends to lovers - kind of fwb hyuckyn - jealous avoidant hyuck! - sweet jeno - minimal angst - slight reader x jeno.

NOTES: first time releasing a full written fic… bye im scared pls be kind (◞‸◟；) also first time making a header? design?? hehehehe. I hope you guys enjoy this though, i personally enjoyed written it so i hope you all enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed making it for you guys!! :3 THIS IS NOT PROOFREAD SO IM SORRY IF THERES ANY ERRORS >_<

WORD COUNT: 3.8k

BEFORE THE PARTY

You and Hyuck have always been inseparable. The best of friends. The kind who finish each other’s sentences, send texts at the exact same time, and know each other’s go-to orders at every café on campus. It’s always been easy with hyuck. You don’t overthink things with him.

That’s why your little pact made perfect sense.

“If we’re both single, and we’re both at a party, and we’re both drunk, we find each other.”

It wasn’t some deep, life changing agreement. It was just a way to keep each other from making bad decisions with strangers. A safety net, nothing more. It always worked. Every single time. It was the perfect deal after all, you both get the pleasure needed in a fun night out. No commitment, no feelings.

Until tonight. But let’s rewind back a couple of weeks.

The day you met Lee Jeno.

3 WEEKS AGO @NCU CAMPUS

College life has always been a blur of assignments, late-night food runs, and whatever chaos Hyuck drags you into. Between classes and parties, your days feel like a well-balanced mix of stress and fun. Thank goodness you had your best friend to keep you sane right?

You first met Jeno during an elective course, one of those random classes you picked to fill credits unfortunately. He was the kind of guy who didn’t talk much but somehow made every conversation feel important. You sat next to him out of convenience, and it wasn’t until the next few classes that you really spoke to him, which was currently right now.

“Do you always write your notes like that?” he had asked, glancing at your mess of shorthand scribbles and little doodles in the margins. You could tell he wanted to laugh at it.

You blinked at him, caught off guard. “Uh… yeah?”

He grinned. “It’s interesting. You do know this is a literature class, right? Because your notes look more like a doodle coloring book for toddlers my baby brother's age rather than actual notes.”

You snorted. “Well, you look like you should be in an engineering class, not here.”

“I was forced to take a humanities elective,” he admitted. “But it’s not bad. I like the class.”

“Because of the material or because of me?” you teased, raising a brow.

He laughed, shaking his head. “Guess you’ll have to find out.”

And just like that, Jeno slipped into your life.

The thing about him was that he never tried too hard, he didn’t force his presence, didn’t demand attention the way Hyuck did. He was just… there. Reliable. Easy to talk to. It was easy to get hooked on a guy like Jeno.

You started walking out of class together, grabbing coffee before your next lectures. You studied together, shared snacks, exchanged casual texts that eventually turned into daily check-ins. Somewhere along the way, you got comfortable with him. But it wasn’t until one particular afternoon that you noticed something else.

OPEN FIELD STUDY AREA @NCU CAMPUS

It was another dreadful afternoon, pilled with assignments you swore just appeared in front of your face. You and Jeno were sitting outside on campus, reviewing notes. Though half the time you guys were mostly making corny jokes and laughing at shared interests. That was until Hyuck showed up unannounced, like he always did, dropping himself onto the bench next to you with a dramatic sigh.

“What’s up, losers?” he greeted, snatching one of your fries before you could react, looking as happy as always to mess with your little head.

You rolled your eyes as a faint smile appears on your face. It’s been awhile since you saw him. “Hyuck, this is a study session. You know, where people focus?”

“Sounds lame,” he deadpanned, then turned to Jeno. “So, how do you put up with this one?”

Jeno smirked. “I think she puts up with me.”

Hyuck’s expression didn’t change, but you knew him well enough to catch the slight pause—the way his fingers drummed against his knee a little too fast, the way his jaw tightened for just a second. It was so quick that you almost missed it. Almost.

But then, as fast as it came, it was gone. Hyuck smirked, leaning back on his elbows. “Well, good luck, man. She’s a handful.” You smacked his arm, rolling your eyes again, but the feeling lingered. Hyuck only stuck around for a short while and you never questioned it, but the odd part was he was too quick to leave the setting as well. Feeling lost as he suddenly got up and fled the scene after saying his byes and ruffling your hair.

After that, things felt… different. Not drastically. Not in a way you could point to and say, this is where everything changed. But the subtle things. Like how Hyuck stopped crashing your study sessions with Jeno as often. How he’d make jokes about you “ditching” him but never say it outright. How he seemed to drink more at parties, getting reckless in a way that made you worry.

It wasn’t obvious, but it was there, buried beneath layers of laughter and banter. And maybe you noticed it too late.

@NEOCAFE - 127 DISTRICT

Hyuck doesn’t text first anymore.

That’s the first thing you notice.

You tell yourself it doesn’t matter, you’ve been busy anyway. School, assignments, late-night study sessions with Jeno. But the silence sits in your chest like a weight, pressing down heavier each day. You truly did miss your best friend, nobody else was as much of a dork loser like he was.

You still see him around. In class, at parties, in the spaces you used to share. But it’s different now.

No more texts that say where are you? when you take too long to respond. No more arms slung over your shoulder as he drags you out of the library for a “much-needed” break. No more late-night walks, just because neither of you wanted to go home yet. God you truly did miss lee donghyuck.

The worst part? You know it’s your fault. You were the one who stopped looking for him first. You were the one who let the space between you grow. And now, you don’t know how to close it.

Jeno Notices “You’ve been quiet lately.” Jeno’s voice is gentle, his eyes scanning your face as you stare blankly at your untouched coffee. It’s the third time he’s caught you zoning out in the past hour and he was getting worried.

You blink, forcing a small smile. “Just tired.”

He doesn’t buy it. You can tell by the way he tilts his head, studying you. “It’s about Hyuck, isn’t it?” The words hit you like a punch to the stomach. You exhale, looking away. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

Jeno doesn’t say anything right away. He just nods, as if he already knew. And maybe he did. Maybe everyone did. You’ve spent so much time pretending things are fine that you almost forgot Jeno sees right through you.

So when he reaches out, fingers brushing over yours, you don’t pull away. Infact you allow yourself to get embraced by his comfort. Was Jeno’s comfort what you needed all this time?

@YOUR APARTMENT

The thing about Jeno is that he never rushes anything.

Not his words, not his movements, nothing. He lets things happen as they are, as if he trusts time to work things out on its own. Which is probably why being around him feels so easy, you always had a smile on your face when you were with him.

Like now, for example. You’re both sitting on the floor of your dorm, backs against the couch, a half-empty bag of chips between you. You’ve been talking for what feels like hours—about everything and nothing all at once.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Jeno says, holding up a hand to stop you mid-story, his eyes already crinkling in amusement. “You mean to tell me you climbed a tree to save a cat, but then got stuck yourself?”

You groan, covering your face. “Okay, listen—”

“No, no, no, I need to process this.” He grins, resting his chin on his palm. “How long were you up there?”

“Like… twenty minutes?” you mumble, cheeks burning from embarrassment clearly…

Jeno loses it. He tilts his head back, laughing so hard his shoulders shake. You gotta admit that laugh of his does wonders to girls. He was a real catch. A once in a lifetime cutie, you should consider yourself lucky to have him around right?

You huff, crossing your arms. “Are you done?”

He wipes at his eyes, still chuckling. “Oh man. I- yeah. Yeah, I think I’m good.” He snickers again. “Twenty minutes. Amazing.”

You try to glare at him, but his laugh is infectious, and soon enough, you’re giggling too.

Jeno turns to look at you, a soft smile lingering on his lips. “Y’know, I think this is the most I’ve ever heard you talk about yourself.”

You blink. “Huh?”

“I mean, you’re always talking about Hyuck or your friends, but I like hearing about you.” He leans against the couch, watching you. “Your dumb little childhood stories. Your love for cats. Your terrible decision-making skills.”

You snort, nudging his leg with your foot. “You’re such a menace.”

“And you love it.”

You shake your head, smiling. “I might.”

Jeno tilts his head, studying you for a second. His voice is quieter when he speaks again. “Are you okay?”

The question catches you off guard. You consider lying, but Jeno has always been good at seeing through people. So you exhale, looking down at your hands.

“I don’t know,” you admit. “I just feel… lost.”

Jeno doesn’t say anything right away. He just shifts a little closer, his knee bumping against yours. You don’t realize how much you needed that until it happens.

“I get that,” he finally says. “Sometimes it feels like you’re walking through fog, and you don’t know where you’re going. But…” He nudges you lightly. “That doesn’t mean you’re alone.”

You look up at him. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He smiles, warm and genuine. “I’m here.” You don’t know what possesses you to do it—maybe it’s the way his voice is so steady, so sure. Maybe it’s the way he’s looking at you, like you’re important. But before you can overthink it, you lean in.

Jeno’s eyes widen slightly, but he doesn’t pull away. Instead, his lips quirk up in amusement.

“You’re not about to kiss me mid-existential crisis, are you?”

You let out a breathless laugh. “Shut up.”

But he’s still grinning when he finally closes the distance. The kiss is soft, almost hesitant at first. But then you feel him smile against your lips, and suddenly, it’s all laughter and warmth and the taste of leftover chips.

You break apart for air, and Jeno chuckles. “That was—”

You groan, covering your face. “Don’t say it.”

“— surprisingly nice for two people who just ate sour cream and onion chips.”

You swat at him, laughing. “You ruined it.”

He catches your wrist, grinning. “Nah. That made it better.”

You shake your head, still breathless, still here. Jeno doesn’t fail to make your day once again, as he leans in, continuing where you both had left off as if it was almost natural.

And for the first time in a while, you don’t feel so lost.

PRESENT TIME

And this is how your weeks have been spent. With Lee Jeno. Full of kisses, laughter, playfulness, and comfort. Jeno arrives with an armful of snacks, two sodas balanced precariously on top. “Alright, before we do anything, I have to ask…why do you have like, seven different cat towers in your apartment? Are they that spoiled?” as he takes in his surroundings once again.

You shut the door behind him and scoff. “Excuse you, my children deserve the best.”

Jeno grins, setting the snacks down. “How many do you have again?”

“Three.” You sigh dramatically. “But honestly, I think my oldest cat hates me.”

He snorts. “Why?”

“Because I accidentally stepped on her tail when she was a kitten, and she’s never forgiven me.” You flop onto the couch, pouting. “Now every time I call her, she looks at me like I owe her child support.” Jeno bursts out laughing, nearly knocking over the bag of chips. “That’s the most you thing I’ve ever heard.”

You nudge him with your foot. “Oh, shut up. You’ve definitely done worse.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Doubt it.”

“Oh really? What’s the dumbest injury you’ve ever had?”

He thinks for a moment before admitting, “I once tried to jump over my couch but tripped, hit my head on the armrest, and passed out.”

You gasp. “Wait—like, fully unconscious?”

“Yup.” He sighs. “Woke up two minutes later to my mom yelling at me for being stupid.”

You’re already laughing so hard your stomach hurts. “Okay, okay, once, when I was seven, I thought I could ride my bike down the biggest hill in my neighborhood with my eyes closed.”

Jeno’s eyes widen. “No. No.”

“Yes,” you wheeze. “Flew straight into a bush. My mom had to pull twigs out of my hair for an hour.”

He practically collapses against the couch, laughing until his shoulders shake. “You’re actually crazy as a kid.”

“Thank you,” you say proudly.

The laughter fades into a comfortable silence. Jeno leans back, staring at the ceiling. “You know, I never really asked—but what was Hyuck like when you were kids?”

You hesitate, but the memories come easily. “Chaotic. Loud. Got us into trouble, like, every other day. He would drag me into the most ridiculous situations and it wasn’t even my fault.”

Jeno smirks. “Sounds about right.”

You smile softly. “One time, we thought we could build a pillow fort. We barely even got the first pillow up before the entire thing collapsed and we both fell.”

He laughs. “Did you get hurt?”

“Surprisingly, no. But Hyuck cried for a full hour because he swore it was sabotage.”

Jeno shakes his head, amused. “He hasn’t changed at all, has he?”

“Nope.” You pick at a loose thread on your sleeve. “He’s always been… Hyuck.”

There’s a pause, but Jeno doesn’t push. He just watches you, waiting.

You clear your throat. “Okay, your turn. Tell me something I don’t know about you.”

He hums, tapping his chin. “Alright. You know how everyone thinks I’m all sporty and serious?”

“Yeah?”

“Well.” He leans in like he’s about to share a top-secret confession. “I used to write fanfiction.”

You choke on your drink. “No way.”

“Oh, it gets worse.” He sighs dramatically. “It was about superheroes.”

“What kind? Marvel? DC?”

“Neither. Completely original characters. I had a whole series.”

You clutch your stomach from laughing so hard. “Jeno. Are you telling me you were a self-insert superhero fanfic writer?”

He groans, covering his face. “Look, I was twelve—”

“NO, THIS IS AMAZING.” You grab his arm. “Did you give yourself powers? A tragic backstory?”

He peeks at you between his fingers. “…Both.”

You collapse into the couch, wheezing. “This might be the best thing I’ve ever learned about you.”

He grins. “Alright, your turn. What’s your cringiest secret?”

You pause, then admit, “Okay this might not be cringy… but i had a harry potter phase.”

Jeno gasps, clutching his chest. “What house were you in?”

“…Slytherin.”

He high-fives you. “Respect.”

The conversation keeps flowing, lighthearted and easy. You talk about everything, old childhood memories, embarrassing moments, ridiculous hypothetical scenarios (what would you do if you woke up as a worm?), and somehow, even the meaning of life.

It’s fun. It’s comfortable.

But beneath it all, there’s something bittersweet.

Because you both know this is goodbye.

Eventually, the night slows down. The laughter fades, leaving only the quiet hum of the TV in the background. You shift, fiddling with the hem of your sweater. “Jeno…”

He already knows. You can see it in his expression.

Still, he lets you say it.

“I have to go find him,” you admit softly.

A beat of silence.

Then he smiles? He smiles. A small, knowing smile. “Yeah.”

You swallow hard. “I—I didn’t mean to—”

“I know.” His voice is gentle. “You never had to say it, y/n. I knew.”

Your throat tightens. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He reaches for your hand, squeezing it lightly. “But… can I ask for one last thing?”

You nod, already knowing what it is.

“One last kiss,” he murmurs.

So you kiss him.

It’s soft, lingering. A silent thank you. A quiet goodbye.

When you pull away, he exhales, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well. That was a solid 9/10.”

You snort. “Only 9?”

“Could’ve been a 10, but my foot fell asleep.”

You smack his arm, laughing. “Shut up.”

He grins. “Go. Before I change my mind and challenge Hyuck to a duel.”

You roll your eyes, but you’re already reaching for your shoes.

And as you step out the door, heart racing, you realize—

This time, you’re going to run toward Hyuck.

Because he’s always been the one and it’s about time you told him.

@HYUCKS HOUSE

You don’t know why you’re nervous.

Actually, scratch that—you do know why.

Because this is Hyuck.

Because it’s been weeks. Because you let the distance grow, and now you’re about to do the most humiliating thing possible: show up at his door in the middle of the night, probably looking like a disaster, and pour your heart out.

Great plan. Really solid. No notes.

Still, you knock.

And the second the door swings open, all your thoughts evaporate.

Hyuck stands there, hoodie slightly rumpled, his hair sticking up like he was asleep before you interrupted. His face is groggy, blinking at you like he’s trying to make sure you’re real.

“…y/n?”

You open your mouth.

And immediately start crying.

Like, full-on tears. Embarrassing.

Hyuck panics. “Wait, huh, are you okay??”

You sniff, waving your hands wildly. “I— hiccup— I don’t know why I’m crying!”

His hands move without hesitation, reaching for your arms, steadying you. “Hey, hey, what’s going on?” His grip is warm, grounding. “Did something happen?”

You shake your head rapidly, but the tears won’t stop. God you really missed him.

Hyuck makes a helpless noise before sighing and tugging you against him. His arms wrap around you, firm but careful, like he’s worried you might break.

You bury your face in his hoodie, gripping the fabric tightly.

Hyuck rubs your back in slow circles. “Okay. Just—breathe, yeah?”

You sniffle, nodding against his chest. His warmth seeps into your skin, comforting in a way nothing else has been these past few weeks.

And then, before he can say anything else, the words just spill out.

“I just— Hyuck, I missed you.”

His hold on you tightens for a second before he pulls back slightly, just enough to see your face. His brows furrow, but he stays quiet, letting you talk.

“You’re— you’re so important to me, okay? And I hate that I let us drift apart. And I hate that I didn’t realize sooner that you are—” You hiccup again, rubbing at your face. “I don’t even know what I’m saying, I just miss you so much, and everything sucks without you, and I—”

Hyuck suddenly squints at you. “…Are you drunk?”

You freeze. “What?”

“You’re being so dramatic right now.” His lips twitch like he’s holding back laughter. “You have to be drunk.”

You gape at him. “I am not drunk, you absolute—”

“I dunno…” He crosses his arms, pretending to analyze you as he leans closer to your face. “Messy hair, teary eyes, emotional confessions in the dead of night… this is very intoxicated behavior.”

You groan, shoving at his shoulder. “I swear I’m sober—”

“Alright, c’mon, Crybaby.” He snickers, grabbing your wrist and pulling you inside. “At least cry in my room instead of my doorstep.”

You let him drag you in, still sniffling as he kicks the door shut behind you.

And just like that, you’re home.

Hyuck flops onto his bed, patting the space next to him. “C’mere, you baby.” You roll your eyes but sit down anyway, pulling your knees to your chest.

Silence settles between you. Not awkward, not tense. Just… there.

Hyuck sighs, tilting his head toward you. “You really missed me that much?”

You swallow, nodding. “Yeah.”

He watches you for a moment, then scoffs lightly. “Idiot. I was always here, y’know.”

Your heart clenches. “I know. I was just—”

“Being dumb?”

You groan. “Yes, okay! I was being dumb.”

Hyuck smirks, but it softens as he nudges your knee with his. “It sucked without you, too.”

Your breath catches. “Yeah?”

“Obviously.” He huffs, looking away like admitting it pains him. “Who else was gonna make me leave my apartment and go on stupid 2AM snack runs?”

You let out a small laugh. “You love those snack runs.”

“Yeah, but I love them with you.”

You freeze.

Hyuck doesn’t seem to notice what he just said, or maybe he does, because he clears his throat quickly and sits up straighter. “Anyway. What was up with that dramatic monologue outside? You really that miserable without me?”

You hesitate, then nod. “Yeah.”

He blinks.

You sigh, rubbing your arms. “Hyuck, you’re— you’re my person.” You glance at him, eyes searching. “You always have been.” You meant it.

Something shifts in his expression.

For the first time all night, he’s quiet.

Your heart pounds. “I—”

“Wait.” He suddenly lifts a hand, stopping you. Then, deadpan— “Are you sure you’re not drunk?”

You groan, shoving his face away. “Hyuck!”

He bursts into laughter, eyes crinkling at the corners.

And even though you’re this close to smacking him, you realize—

This is why you came back.

Because no one makes your heart race and your soul feel alive like Lee Donghyuck. You don’t even realize how close you’ve gotten until his laughter fades, leaving only the soft hum of the night around you. His gaze flickers to your lips, then back to your eyes.

A beat of silence.

Then, like it’s the most natural thing in the world, he leans in.

And you meet him halfway.

The kiss is warm, slow— like a quiet understanding. Like something that had always been there, waiting to be noticed. It wasn’t like all the other kisses, the party hookups. This was real.

His hand comes up to cup your face, thumb brushing lightly over your cheek. He tilts his head slightly, deepening the kiss just a little, enough to make your breath hitch.

When you finally pull away, he exhales, pressing his forehead against yours.

“…Yup.” He grins. “You definitely weren’t supposed to kiss me like that if you were drunk.”

You laugh softly, still slightly breathless. “Shut up.”

He hums, thumb still stroking your cheek. “Not a chance.”

And this time, when he kisses you again, neither of you stop to think.

Because for once, nothing else matters.

NOTES: I wouldve wrote longer but my brain fogged oops but i hope you guys enjoyed!!

[vibelladonna]

❛ 𝓈𝒽𝒾𝒷𝒶𝓇𝒾 ❜ 𝜗𝜚 𝑔𝑒𝑜 𝓍 𝒶𝒻𝒶𝒷!𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇

𝓈𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: You and Geo have always been so close that sometimes you wonder if there’s an unspoken thing between you two.

Are you just really good friends? Or is there something deeper neither of you is willing to say out loud? Of course, you could always just ask him. That would be the normal thing to do. Instead, fate—or your own questionable choices—ties you to a much more hands-on way of figuring it out.

So, is this just another weird chapter in your situationship or the moment that finally forces you both to admit the truth?  

Only one way to find out.

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

𝓇𝑒𝓆𝓊𝑒𝓈𝓉: Sooo, I stumbled across a header picture by @mint0hhh on Twitter, then commented, "HELP, I’M WRITING A FANFIC ABOUT THIS!" …except I never actually did. So a promise is a promise; I made this fanfic EXTRA LONG, so even though I’m very late��here it is.

Also, I included @alienfreak124 OC, Perssila Keithens as the reader’s friend and Crowe’s girlfriend. Sorry, not sorry to the Crowe fans. I HAVE officially switched sides to the tall, silent type.

Geo stole my heart~

𝓉𝒶𝑔𝓈: geo x afab!reader, friends to lovers, slow burn (but with tension), mutual pining but make it stupid, light bondage, small smut part, awkward intimacy, geo is soft (but not really), and perusal absolutely is done with you.

No one really knows Geo. 

People just accept his existence as a natural phenomenon. He’s there, he does things, he’s filthy rich for some reason, and he knows how to handle a weapon with the kind of ease that makes you wonder if he was trained in a secret underground assassin program as a child. 

No one dares to get on his bad side. No one knows his hobbies. No one knows his personality. No one knows anything.  

Except you.  

For some reason, you made the cut. Congratulations. You’re one of exactly two people in Geo’s life that he actually likes. Maybe not in front of Crowe because, let's be real, he plays favorites, but it’s pretty damn close. 

To this day, you’re still baffled by the fact that when you casually admitted you liked being around him, he just... agreed. Like, straight-up nodded and went, “Same.” No hesitation. No sarcasm. Just acceptance.  

Which was shocking, because Geo does not, under any circumstances, like people. He barely tolerates society. 

The only reason he’s slightly more bearable now is because of Crowe, his first friend—who, let’s be honest, probably deserves a medal for putting up with his cryptic nonsense for so long. But let’s rewind—why did Geo allow you to be around him?

According to him, you’re "interesting." Which is bullshit, because compared to his lifestyle, you’re about as interesting as a blank piece of paper.  

See, there’s this saying: the quietest people have the weirdest interests.

And oh boy, does Geo live up to that. Over time, you’ve picked up on his oddly specific, borderline ancient-man hobbies: potted plants—a whole collection, opera music—who even listens to that willingly?

Theatre—he could quote Shakespeare in his sleep, cats—makes sense, and reptiles—also made sense, but in a ‘he’s definitely plotting something’ way.  

Everything about this man screams, ‘I am a young adult but my soul is a retired professor who sits in a leather armchair and contemplates the meaning of life.’

And yet, despite his old-as-hell interests, his quiet judgmental stares, and the fact that he could probably take you out in 0.3 seconds if he wanted to—you still love him.  

Old-ass hobbies and all.

As time went on, you started noticing something about Geo—most of his hobbies, the ones he actually lets you see, seem to be deeply tied to his Japanese culture.

Like, ridiculously tied to it.

The way he listens to opera music when he’s focusing? Turns out it’s specifically Japanese opera. His appreciation for theatre? Kabuki and Noh. Even the way he arranges his potted plants—it’s not just some random aesthetic choice, it’s done with an almost ritualistic precision that makes you wonder if this man has secretly mastered the art of bonsai pruning in his free time.

But here’s the thing—Geo never talks about his family.

Like, ever.

And when someone does bring it up?

He effortlessly sidesteps the conversation like he’s dodging arrows in slow motion. The man could be the heir to some untouchable, secretive empire, and no one would ever know because he simply refuses to acknowledge it.

Despite being filthy rich, he lives like someone who’s been independent his whole life—fully in control, fully detached.

No explanations. No unnecessary details.

No personal history. And, well… you’re curious.

Not in a creepy way—okay, maybe a little—but more in the "I am slowly realizing how little I actually know about my closest friend who, by all logic, should have kicked me out of his life by now, yet for some reason tolerates my presence despite allegedly hating people" kind of way.

It’s been picking at your brain for a while now, but there was no one you could talk to about it without sounding weird. Who were you gonna ask? Crowe?

Absolutely not.

Because Crowe—your usual go-to source for all things Geo—has been utterly, completely, and frustratingly useless. Not in a mean way, of course. No, it’s like he refuses to tell you anything in the most annoyingly polite way possible.

"Oh, sorry, can’t talk—buried in paperwork." The first time you ask. "Ah, you know how it is—so much to do, so little time!" The second time you ask. "Oh wow, would you look at that? Another report to file!" At this point he was just fucking with you.

Like Sir. Just say no and move on. At this point, you’re convinced the paperwork is a myth—just an excuse so he doesn’t have to answer any questions. 

Which is how you found yourself out at a chill bar, drinks in hand, with the one person who might actually give you answers—Perssila Keithens. The manic pixie dream girl. The alternative-broke-college-student-in-heavy-debt. And quite possibly the coolest and best girlfriend Crowe has ever had.

Actually, scratch that. She’s not just his coolest girlfriend—she’s one of the coolest people you know, period.

You adore her.

Understand that Perssila and Crowe were the first people to help you when you ended up in the Low-Class building, and honestly? You might not have survived that transition without them.

They made it easier. Better.

And while Crowe is the reliable, big-brother type, Perssila is the type of person who somehow always knows exactly what to say—whether it’s life advice, existential ramblings, or just some insane conspiracy theory that somehow sounds plausible when she says it.  

Need life advice? She’s got you.

Existential ramblings at 2 AM? She’s down.

Random conspiracy theories? She makes them sound weirdly plausible.

And right now? You need help. If anyone could help you figure out the absolute mystery that is Geo, it was her.

You take a slow, contemplative sip of the deep red wine in your hand, watching Perssila as she processes everything you just dumped onto her. She stares at you. Blinks once. Tilts her head. Opens her mouth—closes it. Squints.

Then, without warning, she snorts—an ugly, loud snort that startles the guy sitting at the table behind her.

And then she loses it. Like, full-on wheezing, slapping the table, looking like she just heard the funniest thing in the entire world.

“Oh my God,” she chokes out between gasps, “you’re—you’re stalking him.”

You nearly choke on your wine. “What?! No, I’m not!”

“Yes, you are!” she howls, wiping tears from her eyes. “You’re out here piecing together this man’s entire existence like you’re some detective in a slow-burn mystery novel, and for what? Because he likes plants and doesn’t trauma-dump on you?”

You huff, crossing your arms. “I barely know anything about him!”

“Oh, boo-hoo!” Perssila mimics fake crying, dramatically dabbing at imaginary tears. “You poor thing, your filthy rich, ridiculously handsome, archery-prodigy friend won’t trauma bond with you. How tragic.”

You groan, letting your head fall back. “This is serious, Perssila.”

“Is it?” she shoots back, grinning like the devil. “Or do you just have a little crush on Mr. Mysterious?”

You almost drop your wine glass. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, don’t you ‘excuse me’ me,” she smirks, leaning in. “I’ve seen this before. The accidental obsession, the need to figure him out, the sudden interest in his culture like you’re about to write an essay on it—classic pining.”

You scowl. “I do not have a crush on Geo.”

“Uh-huh.” She takes a slow, smug sip of her drink. “And I totally don’t owe six months of rent.”

“Perssila.”

“I’m just saying!” she grins, propping her chin up with her hand. “If you wanna get all up in his business, just ask him out already. You’d get answers and possibly a rich boyfriend. Win-win.”

You groan, dramatically slumping forward. “I hate you.”

“No, you love me,” she sing-songs, swirling her drink. “And you love Geo, too. It’s okay. You’re in a safe space.” Perssila is still grinning like she just won the lottery at your expense when you sigh and swirl the wine in your glass.

"First of all, I don't love Geo. Second of all, Crowe is also lowkey rich. You know that, right? He was in high society before he got kicked out—same as Geo."

Perssila snorts and leans back in her chair, balancing on the two back legs like she has no regard for gravity or her spinal cord. 

"Yeah, but Crowe humble with it. You can tell he grew up rich. Man’s got that ‘I was raised with money but still humble enough to not be a complete dick’ energy." She explained, "Geo, though? Geo acts like he just spawned into existence one day with a full bank account and a bow. He’s a smug asshole."

You exhale sharply through your nose. "Okay, but seriously—you know anything about Geo's past? I feel like Crowe knows, but he just refuses to tell me. Like, I get it—privacy and all that—but it’s weird how little anyone knows about this guy."

Perssila tilts her head, tapping her chin. "Mmm... Well. Yeah. I know a little."

You nearly choke on your drink. "Are you serious?”

"Why do you think I let you buy me this wine?" she says, smirking. You narrow your eyes. "That was not the deal."

"It is now," she shrugs, taking a slow, smug sip. "Anyway," she continues, resting an elbow on the table, "Geo’s the same as Crowe. Formerly ranked as High Class—was probably on his way to being untouchable, too. But then there was this incident—a near accident or something—and Subaru’s status plummeted. Next thing you know, he's been transferred down to the Low-Class building, and boom—mystery man appears."

You sighed, listening, "Okay and…?"

She rolled her eyes at you. "And my point is—dude went from being top of the world to low-tier real quick. So yeah, it makes sense why he keeps to himself. Probably doesn’t want people prying into his past. Which, by the way—" she levels you with an amused look, "—is exactly what you're trying to do."

You groan, sinking into your chair.

"I just want to understand him."

Perssila snickers. "Yeah. That’s what they all say before they fall madly in love." You consider throwing your entire glass of wine at her.

Just for a second, anyway. Perssila twirls her wine glass between her fingers, watching you with the kind of smirk that suggests she’s having the time of her life watching you suffer.

"Look," she says finally, leaning forward. "If you’re that curious, why not just hang out with him more? I mean just go over his place, bothering him about Japanese culture of all things—might as well keep the momentum going."

You shoot her a dry look. "Bothering?"

She grins. "Annoying. Pestering. Loitering in his presence like a cat that refuses to be kicked out—take your pick."

You take a long, long sip of wine, debating whether or not it's worth the effort to argue. Spoiler: It’s not.

Perssila props her chin on her hand, watching you with an unreadable expression. "But honestly? I think he might actually be more willing to talk if it’s you."

You blink. "…What?"

She gestures vaguely. "I mean, I’ve seen the way he acts around you. The way he actually responds instead of just ignoring people into oblivion. He listens to you. He pays attention to you. You think I don’t notice the way his eyes flick over when you’re talking? Like he’s actually engaged?"

You scoff. "He insults me half the time."

"Yeah, but in a constructive way," she says, dead serious.

"What does that even mean?"

Perssila shrugs. "I dunno, man. He doesn’t tolerate anyone unless he has to, but you? You’re like this weird exception. He puts up with you—voluntarily. That’s gotta mean something."

You stare at her, processing. "…So what, you think if I just keep hanging out with him, he’s gonna start spilling all his secrets?"

She smirks. "I think if anyone’s gonna get him to talk, it’s you."

You squint at her. "You’re saying this. You, who just five minutes ago was laughing at me for giving a single shit about this man’s life."

Perssila grins, sipping her wine. "Yeah, but now I’m having fun watching you spiral."

You groan, slumping onto the table. "I hate you."

"No, you don’t," she sing-songs.

You do not dignify that with a response. But as much as you hate to admit it… She might have a point.

You’ve spent most of your time around him, yet most of what you know about him has been pieced together through sheer observation, like you’re some amateur detective tailing a particularly secretive suspect. 

Sure, you’ve figured out some things—his absurd wealth, his love for bow and arrow, his absolute refusal to react to most human emotions—but beyond that? The man is practically a ghost.  

So one day, curiosity gets the better of you. Instead of coming at him with a grand interrogation plan—because, let’s be honest, he’d shut that down immediately, you decide to start small. Real casual. Real low-stakes. Just like what Perssila said. 

"Hey, Geo, can you teach me more about Japanese culture?"  

You brace yourself. You expect something—a deadpan stare, a scoff, maybe even a sarcastic ‘Oh sure, let me clear my nonexistent schedule for that.’ But no. Geo doesn’t even blink. He just looks at you, considers it for all of one second, and says—  

"Yeah, sure."

Just like that. No hesitation. No follow-up questions. No cryptic conditions or exasperated sighs. Just a casual agreement, like you’d asked him to hand you a napkin or something.  

And now, here you are.  

Dressed in a dark purple velvet top, the fabric rich and soft against your skin, its lace-trimmed V-neck adding just the right touch of elegance without feeling overdone. Sleeveless, effortlessly stylish, yet comfortable enough to move in.

Then there are the denim shorts. Not the stiff, awkwardly long kind that makes you look like you borrowed them from a lost tourist. Not the aggressively high-waisted ones that practically scream ‘I’m trying too hard’. No, these fit just right—cuffed at the hem, hugging your thighs in a way that’s both flattering and casual. The kind of fit that feels natural, like they were made just for you.  

To pull it all together, you pair them with deep purple tights, perfectly matching your top—subtle, yet polished. A balance between laid-back and put-together, casual but undeniably ‘intentional’.

You weren’t dressing to impress, per se. But if Geo happened to take notice? Well… that wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.

What...?

Don’t look at yourself like that.

It’s not like you're not here for a date or anything. It’s just a casual cultural lesson, nothing more. But let’s be honest—if you’re going to spend time with Geo, a man who looks effortlessly cool even while glaring at people, you might as well put in some effort.  

Now, getting to this moment? That was a whole other battle.  

Standing in front of his door now feels like a victory because getting into this building was a nightmare. 

First of all, Geo’s place isn’t just some high-end apartment. No, this place is fortified. Locked down tighter than a government facility. You half-expected to see snipers on the roof and retinal scanners at the entrance.  

The lobby alone had more security than an underground vault. And let’s talk about the front desk—the lady sitting there? She took one look at you, scanned you up and down like she was a human lie detector, and immediately hit you with:  

"Do you have an appointment?"

And, of course, because Geo is Geo, he wasn’t answering his damn phone.  

The first call? Ignored.  

The second? Straight to voicemail. 

By the third, you were starting to wonder if you should just accept defeat and go home before you got physically removed from the premises.  

“If you don’t have a resident escorting you in, I’ll have to ask you to leave—"  

Then, finally, Geo picked up. "Yeah?" 

"Geo, open the damn door before I get tackled by security."  

There was a pause. A long one. You could feel him debating whether or not he actually cared enough to let you in.  

Then, at last—the golden words. 

"You can come up." Click. 

No ‘sorry for the wait,’ no ‘I was busy,’ just those four words, and he hung up. And now, after making it through what felt like a high-security clearance checkpoint, here you are. Standing in front of his door, mentally preparing yourself for whatever the hell this cultural lesson is going to entail. 

The door swings open, and there stands Geo—towering as usual but looking noticeably different from his usual composed, almost untouchable self.  

Black sweatpants hanging low on his hips. A tight, black sleeveless workout shirt that clings just right to his broad chest and toned arms. And the finishing touch? A white towel lazily draped over his head like he’s some kind of retired warrior fresh out of battle or, more accurately, a guy who just took a shower and couldn’t be bothered to dry his purple-bluish hair properly.

"Hey," he says, voice deep and casual. "Sorry, I just got out of the shower."  

Your brain? Gone. 

Just poof, Out the window.  

Because first of all, when the hell did Geo have muscles like that? You always knew he was strong—archery class legend and all—but this is next-level. Broad shoulders. Defined arms. That tight shirt clinging like it was custom-made for him. The kind of physique that makes it very clear he doesn’t just train for precision—he trains to kill. 

And second of all—this man really just answered the door looking like this, completely unfazed, like he didn’t just hit you with a full visual assault. Meanwhile, you’re standing there, struggling to form a coherent thought, your brain short-circuiting like an old Windows XP system.  

Geo, of course, notices immediately. Because of course, he does. He quirks an eyebrow, giving you that unreadable, slightly judgmental stare of his. "...You good?"  

You blink rapidly, realizing you’ve been staring for way too long. "Huh? Oh—yeah. Yeah, I’m good. Totally normal. Yep."  

Geo doesn’t look convinced. "...You sure?"  

"Yes, absolutely, 100% fine, nothing weird happening here at all," you say, definitely not sounding like someone who just had an internal crisis over their best friend’s post-shower look.  

Geo shrugs, seemingly letting it go, before stepping aside with that effortless, unbothered grace of his. "Come in. Make sure to take your shoes off."  

The moment you step inside, it’s like entering another world—one that is so distinctly Geo that it almost feels surreal. His apartment is nothing like the cold, modern, minimalist penthouses you’d expect from a ridiculously wealthy guy.

No obnoxious glass walls or sterile, personality-devoid furniture. Instead, it’s an elegant, traditional Japanese-style home, infused with warmth and quiet sophistication.  

Dark brown wooden floors stretch across the space, polished to perfection, so smooth they practically reflect the soft, ambient lighting. The walls are lined with beautifully crafted wooden panels, accented with shoji screens that subtly filter the sunlight, giving everything a serene, almost dreamlike quality.

It smells faintly of cedar and something else—maybe incense? Or maybe it’s just the natural scent of the place, like old books and earth after rain.  

Everything is arranged with the precision of a man who either has way too much self-discipline or secretly enjoys interior design.

The furniture is low to the ground—traditional tatami mats, a perfectly placed chabudai table in the center of the living room, and plush zaisu chairs without legs inviting guests to sit comfortably.

A bonsai tree sits on a small wooden stand near the window, pruned so meticulously that you wouldn’t be surprised if Geo meditates over it in complete silence for hours at a time.  

And the plants—oh, the plants.  

Lush, thriving, impossibly well-cared-for.

A variety of potted greenery lines the corners of the room, each one placed with almost suspicious intent as if they weren’t just decoration but rather a carefully curated collection. They look too healthy, their leaves glossy and vibrant.  

You narrow your eyes. 

This man definitely talks to them when no one’s around.

No dust. No clutter. Nothing out of place. It’s so perfectly maintained that you wouldn’t be surprised if he has a precise time schedule for cleaning, organizing, and making sure everything remains in its exact position.

Even the books on the low wooden shelves are arranged with an almost obsessive precision—some in height order, others in a specific color gradient.  

It’s the kind of home that feels like it belongs to someone with complete control over every aspect of their life. Someone disciplined. Someone who doesn’t let chaos seep in.  

Geo doesn’t give you time to keep gawking at his ridiculously well-put-together apartment. Instead, he just gestures lazily toward the open sliding door leading to his private balcony.  

"You wanna sit outside? The weather’s nice."  

You nod, mostly because you're still trying to process the fact that you're even here in the first place. Geo invited you over. He didn’t scoff, roll his eyes, or hit you with the usual "Why do you care?" deflection. Nope. He straight-up agreed. 

And now, you’re in his very Japanese—let’s not overthink that—ich-person apartment, about to learn more about him in the only way you could think of—by asking about his culture.  

Because let’s be real.  

You had no clue what else to ask him.

You could've asked him about his interests, his childhood, his favorite color—literally anything that would make this mission of ‘Figure Out Geo’ easier. But no. Your brain completely short-circuited, and the first thing that tumbled out of your mouth was:

"Teach me about Japanese culture."

Which, looking back, is hilarious.

Because let’s be real—Geo’s entire life is already Japanese culture. That’s not some hidden interest of his; that’s just his reality. It’s like walking up to a fish and asking it to teach you about water.

But hey—if nothing else, at least it gave you a solid reason to be here. And considering how rare it is for Geo to willingly spend time with anyone, you were not about to waste this opportunity.

"Is there anything specific you wanna learn?" Geo asks, already making his way toward the kitchen, rolling his shoulders like he’s still shaking off the remnants of his shower. "Or are we just gonna chill until something comes up?"  

You thought for a moment, “Not sure yet, still thinking about it.”

You follow him, stepping out onto his private balcony—because of course he has one. And not just any balcony. No, Geo’s balcony is a whole experience.

The dark wooden floors extend outward, resembling a carefully crafted deck that seamlessly blends into a patch of neatly maintained artificial grass. It's modern but still carries that traditional Japanese touch, like the rest of his immaculate apartment. 

A soft breeze rolls through, bringing with it the scent of greenery—mini bonsai trees placed with precision, a perfectly arranged rock garden that looks like it belongs in a meditation retreat, and even a few bamboo plants swaying gently as if they, too, had been trained to stay in line with Geo’s whole aesthetic.

And then, there's the setup.  

Off to the side, there’s a neatly spread blanket on the ground, surrounded by a few pillows that look way too comfortable to be casually ignored. You squint at it. Did he… did he actually set this up ahead of time? For you? 

Geo, the same man who doesn’t even like answering basic questions about himself, prepared for this? You glance at him, but he doesn’t acknowledge your obvious staring.

Instead, he casually lifts the towel from his head and drapes it around his neck like some kind of makeshift scarf before heading toward the kitchen.

As if he didn’t just casually prove that he does put effort into things when he wants to.  

"I’ll make lunch," Geo calls over his shoulder, already moving with the kind of quiet efficiency that tells you he’s got a plan. "Might as well feed you while you’re here."  

You blink. "You can cook?"  

Geo stops mid-step. Turns his head slightly. Levels you with an expression so flat it could press a shirt. His eye twitches. Just a little. The slight downturn of his lips—the barest hint of a frown—tells you everything.  

He is not happy.  

"Of course, I can." His voice is sharp, clipped—cool in that ‘I’m one second away from throwing you out’ kind of way. "I’m not so useless that I don’t know how to cook."  

Right. Of course. Rich, hyper-competent, and mildly terrifying. It was stupid to assume he wouldn’t know how to cook. What else was he going to do in his free time when he wasn’t being a god-tier archer or brooding in corners like some tragic anime character?  

Geo gives you one last, unimpressed glance before continuing toward the kitchen, rolling his shoulders like he’s shaking off the audacity of your question.

He pulls open a cabinet with precision, grabbing ingredients with the same efficiency you’ve seen him use with a bow. There’s no hesitation, no wasted movement—like he’s trained for this.  

You watch as he moves, effortlessly switching between prepping ingredients and heating up the stove, his focus entirely on the task at hand. He doesn’t need a recipe and doesn’t even pause to think.

Everything is second nature.  

You settle onto the blanket outside, still processing the fact that this is actually happening. You are here. Geo is willingly spending time with you. And now, he’s cooking for you.  

All right. Step one of ‘Figure Out Geo’ is officially in motion. Now, the real fun begins.

With Geo busy in the kitchen, you take the opportunity to ‘explore’—not snooping, of course.

Just… observing.  

You step lightly down the hallway, the soft padding of your feet barely making a sound against the dark wooden floors. The place is eerily silent, save for the faint sounds of chopping from the kitchen. Geo’s apartment is massive, and yet it feels too orderly like every single item has been placed with careful intent.  

The walls are adorned with sleek, traditional touches—dark wooden beams, sliding shoji doors, and minimalist decor that screams expensive.

The warm glow of soft lighting casts gentle shadows across the space, adding an almost serene atmosphere. Potted plants rest in the corners, each one thriving in a way that suggests meticulous care. 

Everything about his home is clean, and precise.

Just like him.

But as you move deeper, something feels …off? Like there’s l no family photos. Not a single framed memory, no candid snapshots, no evidence of a past beyond the person he presents to the world. Instead, the walls are lined with framed art—landscapes, abstract pieces, and traditional Japanese prints. Beautiful, sure. But impersonal.  

No childhood photos. No family portraits. No friends. Just silence and a carefully curated existence. Weird. Your curiosity gets the best of you, and before you can fully think it through, your fingers move on their own—lightly gripping the handle of a sleek wooden dresser drawer and pulling it open just enough to peek inside.  

What you find makes you pause. Rope. A lot of it. Neatly coiled, stacked with precision, different thicknesses, and textures. Some of them have knots already tied—intricate, practiced, deliberate.  

Your brain short-circuits.  

Why… does Geo have so much rope?  

Is he an extreme camping enthusiast? A *very dedicated climber? Does he secretly moonlight as a sailor?  

…Or worse.  

Has he been preparing for something?

Your mind spirals through every possible scenario, and none of them make sense. You reach for one of the coils, running your fingers over the smooth, tightly wound fibers. The knots aren’t random; they’re specific—intricately done, almost decorative. Like whoever tied them had skill.

That’s… concerning.

You need an outside opinion. Grabbing your phone, you quickly type out a message to Perssila. 

You: Hey, random question—what does it mean if someone has, like… a concerning amount of rope in their dresser?

You hover over the send button, still staring at the strangely organized collection of rope. Your thumb twitches, hovering just above the message. What the hell is Geo into? You can't help but wonder. You're so lost in thought that you don't even notice the heavy silence settling in around you.

And then it hits you.

That presence.

The unmistakable, terrifyingly silent presence of Geo standing directly behind you.

You freeze. Your heart leaps into your throat, and your phone feels suddenly too heavy in your hand. You don’t dare move—just stare at your phone, unable to even blink, your thumb still lingering a breath away from sending the text.

Slowly—very slowly—you turn your head.

Geo stands there, towering over you, his tall frame casting a shadow that seems to fill the entire room.

He leans slightly forward, his hands pressed flat against the dresser, a move that traps you in place.

You can feel the heat radiating off him, the slight tension in his muscles that only emphasizes just how much bigger he is than you. 

His presence alone is overwhelming—an unspoken dominance that somehow manages to feel both protective and intimidating. His expression is unreadable—his features smooth, his eyes sharp, with that cold intensity that’s become all too familiar.

But his gaze? Heavy. Like he’s weighing you, evaluating you, and you’re not sure you’re winning this game.

"Aren’t you nosey," he murmurs, voice impossibly calm, almost too soft. "You find something you like?"

You swallow hard.

Oh. Oh, you messed up.

You don’t even get the chance to respond. The next thing you know, you’re gently nudged out of the room and back onto the balcony, your feet barely brushing the floor as Geo wordlessly leads you outside. You sink onto the blanket, feeling the cool fabric beneath you like it's somehow a symbol of your failure.  

Geo follows you out with a tray in hand—cut-off sandwiches—seriously, did he cut these into perfect triangles just to mess with you? And a steaming cup of green matcha tea that looks like it could’ve been brewed in a high-end Japanese teapot or straight from some Zen temple. 

He sets the tray down next to you, and you swear you feel the weight of his gaze even before you look up. You sit with your arms crossed over your chest, awkwardly trying to look like you're not completely out of your depth here.

The sandwich corners are a little too neat, and the way the matcha steam rises is almost a little too calm. Your eyes avoid his—because the last thing you want is to see that expression.  

Geo sits right next to you, arms crossed, then turns and looks down at you with a silent intensity that feels more like a lecture than anything else. His gaze isn’t soft. It’s deliberate, calculating like he’s waiting for you to say something, anything, that doesn’t sound like an awkward mess.  

You stare at the sandwiches. They’re perfectly arranged—just like everything else in his life.  

He doesn’t break the silence.  

Finally, after a moment that feels like an eternity of pretending you’re not absolutely freaking out, you glance up at him. You have to. He’s just sitting there, legs spread wide, shoulders broad, looming over you, radiating a sense of control that makes you feel even smaller than you already do. His eyes—cool, dispassionate—lock onto yours.  

"Are you going to eat or just sit there and stare?" His voice is as sharp as ever, but there's a hint of something you can’t quite place.  

You blink, then look down at the platter again. The sandwiches look innocent enough. You pick one up, hesitating for just a second before taking a bite. It’s delicious—of course it is.

The kind of simple yet elegant meal that somehow makes you feel like you’ve stepped into a high-class tea ceremony instead of a quiet afternoon with a guy who’s clearly got way too many layers for your brain to handle.  

Geo keeps watching.  

Geo’s eyes don’t leave you as you struggle to form a response. The air between you both is thick, every second stretching longer than it should. He doesn’t even blink, waiting for you to find your words.

"You know," Geo’s voice cuts through the silence again, low and sharp. "You came here to learn about Japanese culture, right?"

You nod, though it’s more of a reflex than any solid commitment to the plan.

"But..." He raises an eyebrow, his voice turning slightly more curious, but still with that edge. "Do you actually want to learn about Japanese culture, or is it just an excuse to figure me out?"

The question hits you like a bucket of ice water. Your breath catches in your throat as you freeze, staring into his unreadable eyes. You open your mouth, but no words come out at first. You’ve got no idea how to respond. Not without sounding like a total idiot.

"Well?" His voice is quieter this time, the same calm tone, but there's something deeper—something that feels a little too close to the truth for comfort.

You shift uncomfortably, your fingers nervously tapping the side of your tea cup. Your heart rate picks up, and your mind starts scrambling. 

What did you even come here for? 

To understand him? To learn about his life and mind? Or maybe—just maybe—you were trying to learn something else. Something about Geo that you knew he wasn’t just going to hand over easily.

The silence stretches on. And then, all at once, you give in.

"Okay, fine," you blurt, not caring how much it sounds like you're confessing something you’ve kept hidden for a while. "I… I wanna know more about you…” You started before adding, “Not just Japanese culture. I mean, I do want to learn about that too, but it’s kind of hard not to get curious about you when you're this impossible to figure out."

The words tumble out of you faster than you can stop them. The rush of honesty almost makes your head spin. You haven’t admitted this to anyone, and now it feels like you've exposed yourself in front of someone who could probably read you like an open book.

You finally glance up at him, expecting some kind of judgment or mockery, but instead, Geo’s expression doesn’t change. He’s still watching you closely, not saying anything. His eyes are calculating, sharp as ever, but there’s a faint softness in them. Just a flicker of understanding. 

And then, just when you think you’ve completely bared your soul to him, Geo does the unexpected. He leans back slightly, a small but knowing smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Mhm,” he says again, but this time, it’s not quite as cold. "So you’ve been trying to figure me out all this time, huh?"

You feel the heat rising to your cheeks, and you quickly take another sip of matcha to hide the embarrassment.

Geo shifts, his posture still relaxed but somehow more at ease now. "Well, you’ve got a whole rest of the day. But I’ll warn you," he adds, his voice low and serious, "I’m not as simple as you think I am.”

You narrow your eyes at him over the rim of your teacup. "Yeah, no kidding. You’re like one of those 5,000-piece puzzles with no edge pieces and half the picture missing."  

Geo snorts, just barely, but you catch it. A tiny victory.  

"I’ll take that as a compliment," he said.

"Wasn’t meant to be," you mutter, stuffing a sandwich into your mouth before you say something else that could get you kicked out.  

Geo watches you chew like he’s evaluating your life choices, then tilts his head slightly. "So, since you’re so determined to learn about me, go ahead. Ask something."  

You swallow your bite too fast and nearly choke. Great. Fantastic start.  

Geo waits, unimpressed, while you regain control of your breathing. You rack your brain for something that won’t make you sound like an idiot. "What’s your favorite color?" Too basic. "Have you ever been in love?" It’s too invasive—you’re not trying to get kicked out twice in one day.  "Why do you own an unsettling amount of neatly coiled rope?" 

…Yeah, no. That’s gonna have to stay a mystery for now.  

So instead, you blurt out, "Do you talk to your plants?" Geo blinks. Slowly.  

Then, in the most deadpan tone possible, he says, "Do you talk to your plants?"  

"That’s not an answer!" 

He raises a single, judgmental eyebrow. "That’s not a real question."  

You gape at him. "Excuse you, I think it’s a very real question. Considering the fact that your plants look like they get more love and affection than most people." Geo doesn’t even try to argue. He just shrugs, gaze flickering out toward the balcony where his suspiciously thriving potted plants bask in the sunlight like spoiled little creatures.  

"I read that talking to them helps them grow," he finally admits, voice casual, but his eyes dart to the side like he knows you’re about to make this a Thing.  

"Oh my god," you gasp dramatically, leaning forward. "What do you say to them? Do you whisper sweet nothings? Give them motivational speeches?"  

Geo exhales through his nose, the closest thing to a sigh you’ve heard from him so far. "You are unbelievable.”  

"I need to know. Do you call them by name? Compliment their leaves? Tell them you’re proud of their progress?" He levels you with the flattest look imaginable. "Are you done?"  

You beam. "Not even close."  

Geo stares at you for a moment longer, then—without a word—reaches forward, plucks a sandwich from the tray, and shoves it directly into your mouth. Your muffled protests do nothing.  

"You talk too much," he mutters, leaning back like he didn’t just feed you like a disobedient pet. You chew aggressively, glaring at him the entire time, but you can’t even be that mad. Mostly because the sandwich is good.  

Geo lets out a deep, drawn-out breath like he’s regretting every decision that’s led him to this moment. Instead of answering your barrage of ridiculous questions, he shifts positions, stretching out fully onto the blanket, arms folded behind his head as he gazes up at the sky.  

The warm sunlight filters through the clouds, casting soft shadows across his face. His aquamarine eyes catch the light, the color deep and almost translucent—like the ocean before a storm. You take in more details now that he’s still, noticing the sharp structure of his jaw, the slight upturn of his nose, and those plumper-than-expected lips.

The dark bluish-purple strands of his neatly tied ponytail contrast against the light fabric of the blanket. His long, rectangular earrings shift slightly as he settles/ 

And, well… you definitely staring.  

Geo cracks one eye open. "If you’re going to hover like that, at least make yourself useful and block the sun." He exhales sharply through his nose, something between a sigh and a quiet laugh, before tilting his head back against the blanket. His eyes flicker to yours, sharp and assessing, before he shuts them completely, soaking in the sun once more.  

You, on the other hand, are very aware of how precarious this position is. Your knees are dug into the blanket, your hands braced beside his head, your face way too close to his. You hadn’t even realized how low you were leaning over him until now.  

Your body jolts slightly when the realization hits, and the movement doesn’t go unnoticed. 

His lips twitch, just barely. "Something wrong?"  

"No," you say, too quickly, shifting slightly, but not enough to actually move away. His eyes are still closed, but the smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth tells you he knows exactly what he’s doing. And then, because you refuse to lose whatever this weird battle of wills has become, your mouth moves faster than your brain.  

"Just wondering when you’re going to start interrogating your plants since you're obviously dodging my questions."  

His expression doesn’t change, but there’s a noticeable pause before he speaks. "They’re still better questions than yours," he mutters.  

You gasp in mock offense, shoving at his shoulder—not hard enough to move him, just enough to make a point. "Oh, I’m sorry I didn’t come prepared with an official interview sheet, Mr. Mystery."  

Geo finally cracks an eye open, unimpressed. "Maybe you should’ve."  

You huff, shifting again, but instead of moving away, you lower your weight onto your elbows, your face hovering just a little closer over his. You don’t miss the way his brows twitch slightly at the movement, but if he’s uncomfortable, he doesn’t show it.  

Your gaze flickers over his features. His dark bluish-purple hair is fanned slightly against the blanket, framing his face in a way that makes him look softer, and more relaxed. The sunlight catches on his aquamarine eyes as they track your expression, the color so vivid it almost looks unreal. His septum piercing glints when he shifts, and the earrings dangling from his ears sway slightly with the movement.  

You clear your throat, trying to steer your thoughts back on track. "So what, you want me to ask—what? Your deepest fears? Your worst childhood memory?"  

Geo hums thoughtfully, tilting his head just enough to make it obvious that he knows exactly what he’s doing. "Better than whatever nonsense you’ve been throwing at me."  

"Fine," you challenge, narrowing your eyes. "What’s your biggest regret?"  

For a second, just a second, something shifts in his expression. His gaze sharpens like he’s considering whether or not to answer. Then, his lips curve into something that isn’t quite a smirk but isn’t entirely neutral either.  "Letting you into my apartment."  

You gasp, scandalized, pulling back slightly. "You’re so mean!" Geo exhales a long-suffering sigh and drags a hand down his face. "You really don’t know when to quit."  

"Not when I sense weakness." You grin, watching the muscles in his jaw twitch. Slowly, he pushes himself up onto his elbows, closing the space between you again. His expression is unreadable, but his eyes glint with something that makes your stomach flip.  

"Then I suggest you stop poking at things you’re not ready to handle," he murmurs, voice low, deliberate.  

Your breath catches for just a moment. You narrow your eyes at him, shifting slightly but still keeping your position above him, bracing yourself on either side of his head. 

His answer doesn’t really answer anything, and that smug little smirk tugging at the edge of his lips tells you he knows exactly what he’s doing. You hum, pretending to think. Then, because you know you’re pushing your luck, you grin. "Fine. Why on earth do you own so much rope?"  

Silence. 

Geo’s expression doesn’t change. Doesn’t shift. Doesn’t so much as flinch.  

And yet, you feel a distinct shift in the air as his eyes half-lid in something that looks suspiciously close to amusement. "Why do you think I own so much rope?" he asks, voice smooth—too smooth.  

You immediately regret your curiosity. Your brain conjures up a hundred different answers, none of which you should be saying out loud. Unfortunately, silence isn’t an option either, because Geo is just waiting, watching, unblinking, and enjoying this way too much. You shift, eyeing him with exaggerated suspicion. “…Rock climbing?"

A barely-there twitch of his lips. "Try again."

"Crafting?"

"Be serious."

You narrow your eyes, gaze flicking toward the closet where you first spotted the neatly coiled bundles of rope. "Do you… tie up intruders?"

Geo exhales sharply, a breath of quiet amusement through his nose. "Depends on the intruder."

Your body stills, heartbeat ticking just a little louder in your ears. His tone is too even, too unbothered. He didn’t say no. Your eyes flick back to his, scrutinizing. "That is not a denial."

And then—he smirks. A slow, lazy, knowing half-smirk. One that curls at the edges just enough to make your stomach dip slightly before you shove the feeling away.

"Geo," you say, scandalized. "Are you—are you a kidnapper?"

He groans, tilting his head back against the blanket, hands covering his face like the sheer force of your stupidity is physically painful. "Oh my god."

"You are!" You gasp, jabbing a finger into his shoulder. "I knew it. You totally—"

You don’t get to finish. Because a hand moves. Fast.

Before you can react, your wrist is caught in a firm grip, momentum flipped with practiced ease. The world tilts abruptly, breath-catching as your back meets the blanket in an unceremonious sprawl. You barely register the shift before you’re caged. Geo looms above you, one arm braced beside your head, the other still securing your wrist against the fabric. His weight barely touches you, yet the closeness—the gentle control—presses into the air between you like something tangible.

You blink. His expression is unreadable. Calm. Studying. There’s no smugness, no teasing grin—just a quiet, sharp scrutiny that makes your breath hitch despite yourself. A test. A silent now what?

Your throat bobs as you swallow, suddenly very aware of every inch of space—or lack thereof—between your bodies. Geo tilts his head just slightly, watching you in that infuriatingly composed way, before finally speaking. "Instead of throwing random questions and assumptions at me," he murmurs, voice low, measured, "I need you to think—why do I own rope?"

Your lips part, mind racing through every possible implication before landing on the most obvious one. You stare up at him, blinking rapidly, feeling the heat creep up the back of your neck.  

Geo doesn’t move, doesn’t say a word—just waits, eyes closed, basking in the sun, perfectly content in his victory while you sit there malfunctioning.  

Your breath catches slightly as you shift beneath him, just enough to test the hold he still has on your wrist. His grip is firm but not painful, a simple, unspoken reminder that he had flipped you onto your back with barely any effort. You feel the weight of his presence, the way his body shadows yours, his long fingers still loosely wrapped around your wrist.  

You swallow. Then, in a moment of pure, unfiltered realization, your eyes widen. "Oh." Geo hums, the sound deep in his chest, a silent acknowledgment that he knows exactly what just clicked in your brain. "Oh." You swallow again, blinking up at him. "You… you like tying people up."  

His lips twitch, but he doesn’t deny it. Your stomach does something weird. Not bad, not unsettling—just… weird. Geo finally opens his eyes, looking down at you with an expression that is both unimpressed and deeply entertained. "That took you longer than I expected."  

You huff, willing the heat in your face to die down, but it’s no use. "I was trying to give you the benefit of the doubt."  

He sighed, tilting his head slightly. "That was your mistake."  

You scoff, shoving at his shoulder with your free hand, and to your mild frustration, he doesn’t budge. "So what, you have some secret collection of knots you practice? Like, ‘oh, here’s my specialty hostage tie’—"  

"Shibari."

You freeze mid-sentence, your brain hitting a wall. "What?"

Geo’s gaze remains steady, unreadable, his voice a little too casual—too smooth. "The word you’re looking for. It’s called shibari."

Your mouth opens. Closes. Opens again. "Oh." A pause.

Geo just watches you, waiting, his expression calm—expectant. The realization fully dawns, your mind short-circuiting as pieces snap together at an alarming rate. And because your brain has officially abandoned all common sense, your mouth moves before you can stop it. "You practice?"

Geo exhales a sharp, amused breath that’s almost a laugh before he finally releases your wrist. He shifts effortlessly onto his side, propping his head up with one hand while the other rests lazily against his stomach. He looks relaxed—too relaxed—like he’s completely enjoying watching your mind self-destruct. "Wouldn’t you like to know?" 

You groan, dragging your hands down your face, already regretting everything. “Fuck. You totally do." Geo just smirks—entirely unbothered—as he reaches for a sandwich from the tray, taking his time, fingers deliberate as they pull it apart slightly before bringing it to his mouth. He chews, slow, unrushed as if this entire conversation hasn’t completely derailed your ability to function.

You watch him, brain still spinning, words refusing to string together properly. Finally, you take a deep breath, collecting yourself, sitting up slightly. Your eyes narrow. "So…" You tilt your head. "How good are you?" 

Geo stops mid-bite. For the first time, his composure cracks—not much, just the briefest flicker of something in his expression before he chokes on his sandwich. He coughs once, sharply, hastily covering his mouth, eyes momentarily widening as he tries to recover.

Geo’s gaze sharpens, his smirk turning razor-sharp, like a cat that’s just cornered something far too cocky for its own good. He stretches his fingers slowly, considering his next move with the kind of deliberation that sends a shiver down your spine. Then, he tilts his head, his eyes never leaving yours.

"Since you’re so curious," he muses, voice smooth like silk, "Want me to show you my skills?"

Your stomach does a flip. A nervous flip. This could go very, very wrong.

Without thinking, the word slips out of your mouth before your brain has a chance to catch up. "Yes."

You instantly regret it. Almost.

Geo looks at you, his gaze flickering with something unreadable, something that makes your heart skip in a way you really don’t want to acknowledge. Then, he exhales through his nose, amusement glinting in his eyes. "Brave."

No. Stupid, actually. You realize just how far you’ve gone now.

Geo moves with an ease that shouldn’t be this intimidating. One moment, he’s leaning back on the blanket, casually finishing his sandwich, and the next, he’s pushing himself up onto his knees with the same fluid grace he’d exhibited when first walking into the room.

Suddenly, the air feels heavier. You blink, realizing you’ve just entered a zone you didn’t even know existed. And now, standing over you, Geo looks… dangerous.

His fingers brush against your wrist with startling precision, his touch cold and deliberate as he gives you a look that sends an unspoken message straight to your gut.

Without a word, he takes your wrist, his grip firm, like he’s done this a thousand times before. You go rigid for a moment, heart racing. It’s not that you’re scared—well, not exactly—but there’s something about the way Geo moves, the way he controls every single moment, that sends a chill down your spine.

He stands up, pulling you gently yet firmly along with him, leading you towards a door at the far end of the room you hadn’t noticed before. There’s something darkly intriguing about it—something about the way he moves, how confident he is in his space, that you can’t help but be drawn to it. 

Geo opens the door to reveal a room you can’t even begin to process at first. 

The air smells like straight rope, and in the center of the room, there a different types of ropes and several other tools--neatly arranged on shelves. "Welcome to my practice space," he says casually as if this is all completely normal. 

Your brain takes a moment to catch up. This is real. This is actually happening. 

You’re standing in Geo’s personal bondage room.

He looks at you, sensing your hesitation but not saying a word. Then, with the flick of a wrist, he unhooks the nearest length of rope, a purplish one, and begins unraveling it, the motion fluid practiced.

"So," he starts, voices casually again as he turns to face you. "You were curious. You want to see how it’s done?"

You swallow, trying to regain control of your brain which seems to have temporarily shut down. "Do you practice on others?" you ask, voice more steady than you feel.

Geo doesn't answer right away. He simply raises an eyebrow and finishes pulling the rope taut in his hands. When he does speak, it’s calm, but with an underlying tone of something deeper, something that makes your heart rate spike again.

"I used to take classes," he admits, his gaze never leaving you. "But eventually, I taught myself. After a while, I didn’t need anyone else." He steps closer, his presence overwhelming in the best and worst ways. "I practice on myself now."

The words settle like ice in your stomach.

"You practice… on yourself?" you repeat, trying to grasp the weight of what he’s just said.

Geo nods, his expression unreadable. "It’s... efficient." He moves towards the bench, the sound of the rope sliding against itself making your chest tighten. "But if you really want to know what I’m capable of, you’ll have to trust me."

You blink, realization dawning on you. 

This is no longer hypothetical. No longer a curiosity you can walk away from. 

This is real, and you’re in it now.

Geo watches you for a moment longer, waiting for your response. His fingers gently twirl the rope, giving it a little snap as if to remind you of its presence.

"I think you’ll find that trust is a pretty key ingredient here," he adds, voice low, almost predatory.

Your heart skips a beat, the weight of his words hanging heavily in the air. 

Trust. 

The room feels smaller now, and your breath seems louder as you take in the ropes and tools scattered around the space. It’s not like you hadn’t known what you were walking into when you’d asked—no, you were fully aware—but actually being in this moment, in this room, with Geo, makes everything feel so much more... real.

You swallow hard, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. There’s a flicker of something in his eyes—something patient but knowing, as if he’s watching you carefully, measuring your every move. He’s not in a rush, and that’s what makes it worse. You know he’s waiting for you to make the next move, and yet you’re caught in this swirl of confusion and curiosity.

"I..." you start, but the words feel clumsy in your mouth. You don’t know what to say, how to ask, or if you even want to ask any more questions. You were just playing around before, throwing out a joke, trying to break the tension. Now, it feels like you're treading water in a deep ocean, and you're so out of your depth.

Geo doesn’t speak for a moment, just watches you, his expression unreadable. It’s like he’s giving you space, the kind of space that feels so heavy you can’t even breathe. Then, he moves again. It’s fluid, and smooth, with the same effortless grace as before. He steps closer, narrowing the gap between the two of you until you can feel the heat of his body in the space just in front of you. 

"Would you like me to tie you up?” he asks, his voice a soft drawl, almost teasing. His words send a ripple of something sharp through your chest. You’re dying to know more, to ask more, but something in the pit of your stomach warns you that diving deeper into this conversation might lead you somewhere you can’t come back from. 

You glance at the ropes hanging from a hook by the wall, the tools that could easily be used to restrict, to bind, to hold. But the question still lingers in the air: Are you willing to be tied up?

"So..." you murmur, trying to keep the shakiness out of your voice, “That”’s what you gonna do to me? …Tie me up?”

Geo tilts his head slightly, watching your eyes flicker between him and the room around you. He knows exactly what you’re doing, exactly what’s running through your mind. He sighs and steps even closer now, reaching for the ropes, his fingers curling around the smooth, coiled lengths as if they’re an extension of him. 

"I’m not going to do anything with you," he says, low and almost comforting, as if trying to ease some of your panic. “I can tie you and explain to you how this works, we can go through it. If not, we can pretend none of this happened,” 

And with that, he steps back, letting the ropes fall slightly into his hands. His eyes search yours with an intensity that makes your pulse quicken. 

“I’ll let you decide how deep you want to go,” he says again, his tone calm and almost soothing. “No pressure. No rushing into anything. I’m not going to force you, okay?” His eyes are steady on you, searching for any sign of hesitation, and you can feel the sincerity in his words. 

You nod, understanding the subtle care behind his words. He’s not trying to control this moment; he’s giving you space to back out if you need to. But, something inside you makes the decision, and you meet his eyes with quiet determination. 

Trust, like he said, is mutual. 

You don’t have to dive into something you’re not ready for.

After a breath, you whisper, “Okay. Please show me, Geo.”

Geo’s lips quirked into a soft hum, a sound that almost felt approving, but it was casual, with no force behind it. He nods as if you’ve passed some kind of unspoken test. 

The rope in his hands makes a satisfying snap as he tightens it, and his movements are slow, and deliberate, like he’s trying to make sure you’re okay with everything that’s happening. “Let’s take it slow, all right?” he murmurs as he guides you down to the floor, gently encouraging you to kneel. He follows your lead, his body moving with purpose but no rush.

“Is there a specific way you want me to tie you?” Geo asks, watching you closely. His gaze is soft, but the way his eyes study you says he’s waiting for your answer, giving you control in this situation. His voice is unhurried, and there's no pressure behind it—just genuine curiosity.

You swallow, feeling a sudden warmth spread through your chest. 

"Not sure," you admit, your pulse quickening as the anticipation starts to settle in. "Pick for me." A flicker of something crosses his face—maybe interest, maybe amusement—but he doesn’t comment. Instead, he just nods, seemingly satisfied with your response. 

Without skipping a beat, he reaches for the coil of rope beside him, his movements fluid and practiced. He holds the rope for a moment, running it through his fingers like it’s second nature. “Ushiro takate kote,” he murmurs quietly, almost to himself, as he gathers the rope in his hands.

It’s a technique you don’t fully know yet, but the sound of it, the way he says it, almost feels like an invitation to trust him completely. Then, meeting your gaze, he explains, "It’s foundational. Classic. It controls the upper body, secures the arms behind the back in a balanced U-shape… and it’s one of the first ties I ever learned."

You swallow, watching his hands with quiet intensity as he begins to unravel the rope. The fibers slide smoothly through his fingers, each coil effortlessly falling into place like a dance. There’s a calm, steady confidence in his movements as if this is second nature to him—no hesitation, no rush.

“Hold still,” he says, voices soft but firm, and you do as you're told, heart, picking up just slightly.

Geo moves behind you, close enough that you can feel the warmth of his presence without him touching you. His breath brushes against your neck as he reaches for your wrists in front of you, and for a moment, you freeze. His touch is gentle, but firm as he guides your arms behind you, positioning them to rest one on top of the other. 

His fingers brush your skin as he pulls the rope taut for the first time. It’s not painful, but you feel the pressure, the way the fibers bite into your skin just enough to make you acutely aware of each movement. His touch is careful, deliberate, adjusting and readjusting, as if he’s taking the time to make sure everything aligns perfectly.

"This tie," he says, voice low and smooth, "is the foundation for a lot of shibari forms. It's about balance. Control. Presentation." The rope winds around your arms, pulling them into position. Each pass tightens just a little more, and you feel the steady pressure increase, the sensation settling across your muscles. It’s precise and controlled, and you can feel the thought behind each knot, each loop.

He doesn’t fumble, doesn’t hesitate. 

Every movement is calculated and effortless.

You shift slightly, feeling his breath warm on the back of your neck. You move just enough to give him space, and he works, tying the rope around the top of your arms, and lacing it across your chest. The rope swings behind you, crossing over your back before he brings it back to the front again. Each movement is purposeful, each knot placed with a careful consideration that leaves you breathless.

Geo’s hands never rush. There’s something almost meditative in the way he works, his fingers moving with quiet intention. He pulls the rope under your arms, adjusting, making sure the fit is even. The rope brushes against your skin in a way that feels almost too intimate, but it’s not uncomfortable. There’s a raw emotion in the way his hands move—each tug, each twist, feels like it has its own weight, its own purpose. It’s not just about tying knots; it’s about creating something—something deeply personal.

Your fingers twitch slightly, the only sign of your growing awareness of how tightly secured you are, but the pressure is balanced—just enough to feel the restraint, but not so much that you’re overwhelmed. 

As Geo finishes the final section of the knotting, he shifts slightly in front of you, his hands moving with a practiced, fluid grace. He pulls the rope snugly, adjusting the tension with precision, focusing on each curve and contour of your body. 

You can feel the weight of his careful attention, the way he enhances the shape of your breasts with the gentle pressure of the rope, each loop placed with purpose but never rushed.

The quiet in the room feels heavier now, almost suffocating, and you can hear your heartbeat pounding in your ears, a soft, rhythmic thrum that echoes against the stillness. 

“You’re really good at this,” you murmur, the words slipping out before you can stop them.

Geo pauses, his hands lingering on the rope for a beat longer than necessary. A soft exhale escapes him, somewhere between a sigh and a laugh, as if amused by your comment. “I should be,” he replies, his voice smooth and warm with amusement, but it’s not arrogance. No, there’s just a quiet acknowledgment, a hum of experience behind his words. 

You can’t help but notice the way his touch seems to linger a fraction longer than required, his fingers grazing your skin as he double-checks his work. Every motion is careful, almost reverent, ensuring the ropes are secure but never too tight, and that everything sits just right. He moves like this is second nature to him, yet with an intimacy that makes you feel as if you’re the only one who matters at this moment. 

When he leans back slightly to admire his handiwork, you feel the subtle shift in the air—the space between you expands, but it feels like an unspoken agreement that this space, this connection, is something shared. 

His gaze sweeps over you, lingering for a moment on the knots, his eyes scanning the ropes with the quiet intensity of someone making sure everything is perfect.

You shift a little, testing the ropes again, feeling the tension and the tightness wrapped around you, but there's a steady calmness that follows. You meet Geo’s eyes and ask, almost shyly, "Hey, can you... can you take a few pictures of me? I want to see how it looks, like, all of it. My phone’s in my back pocket." 

Geo’s expression softens, but there’s a flicker of curiosity in his gaze. He doesn’t respond immediately, just watches you with a quiet intensity as if weighing your request. His hands, which had been making final adjustments to the ropes, now still for a moment. 

"Yeah?" His voice is low and thoughtful. "You want to see it that badly?" 

You nod slowly, a faint blush creeping up your neck, suddenly aware of how exposed you are in the moment—physically, sure, but also emotionally. Still, the strange sense of comfort you feel keeps you grounded. 

Geo sighed before his lips curled into that subtle smirk again—the kind that makes you feel like he knows something you don’t. 

"You got it," he says, leaning forward, his hands moving with practiced ease to slide your phone out from your back pocket. His touch is gentle, but there’s a confidence in it, a steadiness that matches the way he’s holding you all along.

As Geo adjusts the phone, getting it in place, you sit still, your breath slowing as you prepare to see the image. You feel strangely exposed, but not in the way you'd imagined. Instead, it’s as if a new part of yourself is being revealed, not just to Geo, but to you as well.

The click of the camera snaps you out of your thoughts, and before you can say anything, he lowers the phone, locking eyes with you. “You ready for your reveal?” he asks, his tone teasing, but there’s a slight softness there too. 

"Yeah," you reply quietly, and when you glance down at the screen, your breath catches for a split second. It’s not just a picture; it’s a snapshot of vulnerability, of a moment you didn't think you’d be able to capture. You’re wrapped in those ropes, but somehow, you look... confident.

Even empowered in a strange, sexy way.

Geo watches your reaction carefully, his fingers grazing lightly over your arm. “How does it feel?” he asks again, a little more curious now as if he’s checking in with you in this new space you’re in together.

You swallow, your heart racing a little faster at the image in front of you, the surreal combination of submission and control. 

"It feels... right," you admit, your voice quiet but steady. "I didn't expect it to. But it does."

Geo’s eyes linger on you for a moment, as if committing the sight to memory, before he sets the phone aside. But before he can move on, you shift slightly against the ropes, tilting your head as an idea pops into your mind.

"Hey, can you take a few more?" you ask, glancing up at him.

Geo raises an eyebrow, his lips twitching with amusement. "More?"

You nod, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious under his gaze, but the desire to see more of this side of yourself outweighs the embarrassment. “Yeah, I... I just wanna see how it all looks. Like, from different angles or something.”

Geo exhales a slow, dramatic sigh, shaking his head. "You're lucky you're cute," he mutters, but there’s no real annoyance in his voice—if anything, there’s a hint of fondness.

Still holding you in place, he shifts slightly, reaching for your phone again. With the practiced ease of someone who’s far too used to indulging your whims, he angles the camera, snapping a few more pictures—some closer, some showing the full extent of the bindings.

Every now and then, his eyes flicker back to you, silently making sure you’re still comfortable. And each time, you nod, feeling more at ease than you ever thought possible in this kind of setting.

After a few more clicks, Geo finally sets the phone down for good and shakes his head, smirking. “All right, you got your pictures. Happy now?”

You grin, cheeks warming at the nickname. “Yeah, I think so.”

He huffs, but the corner of his mouth betrays a hint of a smile. Then, without another word, his fingers begin to work at the knots, skillfully undoing them with the same precision he had when tying them. 

His fingers working with the same precision and care they had when tying them, you can’t help but let your mind wander. The way his hands move so naturally, unhurried yet efficient, has you thinking more about the quiet intimacy of the moment. 

Your mind wanders to the question that’s been nagging at you, the one that you can’t quite shake. You hesitate for a second, but then the words come spilling out, almost like an afterthought.

“So,” you start, voice a little tentative, “why are you into this stuff? I mean... I get the skill part, you’re really good at it. But what about the... whole thing?” You gesture vaguely at the ropes, unsure how to articulate the question any better, but hoping he understands what you mean.

Geo doesn’t immediately respond, his hands still working to untangle the ropes with careful precision now behind you. It’s almost like he’s contemplating the answer, taking his time. When he finally looks up at you, his expression is thoughtful, almost distant.

Geo’s hands work methodically, each pull of the rope gentle, his fingers tight and precise. He speaks in a low, steady tone, but there’s a certain edge in his voice like he's trying to keep control of something else.

“It’s not about... what you think it’s about,” he says, his gaze focused on the ropes, but there’s a subtle tightness in his jaw, as though he's fighting to keep his composure. “It’s the process. The control. The trust. The way it all comes together. It’s calming, something I can’t really explain to anyone else.” His hands don’t waver, but you notice the muscles in his arm flexing just a little more, a slight tremor that betrays his calm façade.

He doesn’t look up as he continues, but his voice falters ever so slightly like he’s trying to keep it even. “I’ve never really... shared this hobby of mine with anyone before, not even Jericho.” His gaze flickers to yours, but he doesn’t hold it, his eyes quickly darting away. The vulnerability in them is fleeting but undeniable—something he doesn’t show anyone.

“This part of me? It’s just... for me. I keep it to myself.”

The ropes fall away with each tug, and even though he’s untying you, there’s an odd sense of tending to you in the way he works. His hands are sure but gentle like he's aware of every inch of your skin, the subtle pressure of the rope, the way it all connects. It's intimate in a way that makes your pulse quicken—like he's paying attention to things that no one else ever has.

The words he shared hang in the air between you two, heavy with meaning. You feel a shift in the atmosphere like you've crossed a line—one that was never meant to be crossed, yet somehow, you’ve managed to find your way through it. 

And you're here. 

With him. 

A place that not even Crowe has been allowed to reach. A small, half-joking thought slips past your lips, an attempt to lighten the mood. “Well, at least I’m ahead on Crowe.”

Geo’s lips twitch in response, the corner of his mouth pulling up into the faintest of smiles. “Don’t get any funny ideas,” he mutters, his voice low and soft, though the amusement is unmistakable. There’s no malice in it, just playful restraint like he’s trying to keep his composure in check despite everything.

You shift slightly, feeling the weight of your body settle against Geo’s chest now that the ropes have been fully untied. It’s not uncomfortable, but there’s something almost grounding in the position. Something soothing. His chest rises and falls beneath you, steady, but there’s a tightness in the air, something suspended, like an unspoken tension that hangs between you both.

You glance at his hands again, watching as they smooth over the final knots, the last of the rope slipping away from your skin. You can’t help but lower your voice, soft and thoughtful, as you speak.

“You know,” you murmur, “it’s kind of fitting that you’re into this. I mean, you’re good with your hands, you’re patient. It makes sense.”

Geo’s chest tightens beneath you, the breath in his lungs hitching ever so slightly. It’s subtle, but you feel it—his body betraying something. His fingers twitch, flexing as if battling against some internal war. His voice drops, so low, it’s almost a whisper, and you feel the warmth of his breath against the back of your neck as his arms hover around you, hands frozen, not daring to touch, yet not pulling away.

“You’re right,” he says, voice almost strained. “I’m good with my hands. I’m patient. But... it’s not just that.”

Your curiosity piques, and without thinking, you shift, turning in his lap so that you’re facing him. His breath catches again, just barely, and you can feel the way his muscles tense with restraint, but it’s fleeting. His arms still hover, uncertain, like he’s fighting against something more than just the physical proximity. 

You tilt your head up slightly, eyes meeting his as you wait for him to finish his thought. Your patience is wearing thin, the space between you both growing more charged with each passing second.

"Then..." you murmur, voice soft yet teasing, "What is it?" 

Geo inhales sharply, his body shifting beneath you, muscles tensing as if fighting off the urge to move, to react in ways that would break whatever fragile control he’s desperately clinging to. 

His gaze falters, darting away for a second, like he’s trying to understand the intensity of what’s happening between you two, trying to fight back whatever feelings are rising to the surface. His fingers twitch at your waist, and then, as if losing that battle, they curve around you, pulling you closer.

There’s a slight shift in the air as his face nuzzles against the nape of your neck, the warmth of his breath brushing against your skin. You can feel the weight of him against you, his body leaning in, pressing against you like he’s desperate for something he’s unwilling to admit. His lips hover near your ear, his words laced with an honesty that surprises you.

“I don’t let people in like this,” he murmurs, voice rough and vulnerable in a way that makes your pulse skip. “Not like this... not ever.” He exhales, shaky, before continuing. “You’re the first.”

There’s a vulnerability in his tone, a rawness that cracks through whatever walls he’s tried to build around himself. His admission hits you harder than you expected, leaving a knot in your chest that you can’t untangle. The realization that you’re the first person he’s let in like this—that you’ve somehow managed to get past every guard he’s built around himself—settles over you like a heavyweight. 

It’s a strange feeling, one that both unsettles and comforts you at the same time. For a long moment, you’re still, trying to process everything. You knew something was there, some sort of pull, but this? 

This is something else entirely.

Geo’s grip tightens, fingers pressing just a little deeper into your waist, like he’s trying to anchor himself—trying to hold onto something steady while his world tilts in a way he wasn’t expecting. His forehead rests against your shoulder, his breath warm against your skin, slow and measured, like he’s trying to keep himself in check. 

“I’ve been trying to figure this out... for a while now,” he murmurs, voice rough, hesitant. “I don’t really understand us…”

His words sit heavy between you, threading through the quiet like something fragile. You pull back slightly, just enough to look at him, to meet that storm behind his eyes, but you don’t hesitate. 

You don’t second-guess. 

Instead, you lean in, closing the distance and pressing your lips to his—soft, unhurried, but firm enough to leave no room for doubt. It’s not desperate, not rushed, just something real. Something that’s been waiting to happen for longer than either of you probably want to admit. 

Geo stills beneath you, breath catching for just a second before he melts into it, his grip shifting, hands splaying over your back like he’s memorizing the way you feel in his arms. He doesn’t kiss back right away, like he’s trying to make sense of it, trying to process the fact that this is happening. But then, his lips move against yours—gentle, cautious, like he’s testing the weight of the moment. Like he’s afraid to break it. 

And it’s good. It’s slow and warm and careful in a way that makes your stomach flip. His fingers curl slightly against your skin, hesitant but firm, and there’s something about the way he holds you—like he wants to pull you closer but doesn’t quite know how. 

When you finally pull back, you’re both quiet, breath mingling in the space between you. His eyes flicker, searching yours, still trying to catch up with everything that just happened, his cheeks were flushed slightly and he was looking at you with a flustered expression.

“You’re not the only one who’s been trying to figure out what’s between us,” you admit, voice barely above a whisper, your fingers still resting against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your palm. “I like you, Geo. I do. The question is do you like me back...”

Geo blinks at you, lips slightly parted like he’s still working through the weight of your words. He remained quiet for a moment before he spoke softly.

"I do... I do like you,” he says slowly, his voice steady but quiet. “But I don’t really know how to show it.” His brows furrow slightly like he’s frustrated with himself. “Not like… like that, at least.”

You watch him for a second, then huff out a quiet laugh, shaking your head. “You don’t have to do anything, Geo.” Your fingers brush lightly against his shirt, grounding yourself in the warmth of him.

Geo exhales, tension bleeding out of his shoulders. His arms are still around you, still holding on, even though he’s not entirely sure what to do with himself. 

But he doesn’t let go. 

“I still want you,” he mutters after a pause, almost like he’s testing the words, trying them out before fully committing. His gaze flickers to yours, hesitant but steady.

“But you already have me,” you whisper, forehead resting against his. “And that’s okay.”

Geo exhales, his arms tightening around you for just a second before he shifts—sudden, decisive. His grip is solid, and firm, and before you even register what’s happening, your feet leave the ground.  

“What the—Geo?” Your voice comes out half a sputter, half a breathless exhale as your hands instinctively clutch at his shoulders.  

He doesn’t falter. He doesn’t hesitate. Carrying you is effortless like you weigh nothing in his arms. The way he holds you isn’t rushed or careless—his grip is secure, steady like he’s making sure you’re safe, making sure you know he won’t drop you, won’t let you go.  

And yet, his face is unreadable.  

His jaw clenches slightly, his brows drawn together in the way he gets when he’s overthinking something. His arms remain firm around you, one hooked beneath your legs, the other supporting your back, fingers pressing lightly into the fabric of your clothes as he walks. The silence between you is thick, charged with something you can’t quite place, and you barely register the way the space around you changes until he steps into his bedroom.  

Wait. His bedroom?  

Your back meets soft sheets as he lowers you onto the bed, his movements gentle, careful—like he’s afraid of startling you, of doing this wrong somehow. His hands linger at your waist, just for a second, before he steps back, rubbing the back of his neck. There’s something hesitant in the way he shifts, something uncertain in the way he avoids your gaze.  

“I—” He exhales sharply, shaking his head like he’s trying to gather his thoughts like he’s trying to piece together the right words. His shoulders tense before he finally speaks.  

“Look, I don’t… need this,” he says, his voice quieter now, rough around the edges. “I don’t crave it. Sex. Any of it. I don’t think I ever have.”  

You blink, your brain lagging a second behind. “Okay…?”

“But,” he continues, eyes flickering to yours, hesitant but serious. “If you wanted it… I’d do it. For you.”

You stare at him. And keep staring. Because—what?

Geo shifts under your gaze, growing visibly uncomfortable. “What?” he mutters, crossing his arms like he’s suddenly feeling too exposed. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Because that makes no fucking sense, Geo.” You sit up, your mind still scrambling to piece together what he’s saying. “You just said you don’t want it, don’t need it, but you’d still do it? For me?” 

He doesn’t answer right away, his expression twitching into something like frustration—at himself, not at you. His fingers flex, like he wants to do something with his hands, but he doesn’t move.

“Yeah,” he finally mutters. “I would.”

Your head tilts, trying to wrap your brain around this. “But… why?”

Geo lets out a sharp breath, dragging a hand down his face. “I don’t fucking know,” he admits, his voice edged with frustration, though not directed at you. “I just— I like you. A lot. And I wanna… I don’t know, make you happy?” 

Your stomach flips at that, at the sheer honesty of it, but you’re still trying to piece it all together. “So you’d do something you don’t even enjoy just because I wanted it?”

He shrugs, looking away. “Yeah.”

“That’s stupid.”

Geo whips his head back to glare at you. “Fuck off.”

You snort, but there’s warmth behind it, something fond as you shake your head. “Geo. You know you don’t have to do that, right? I don’t want anything from you that you don’t want to give.”

“I know that,” he grumbles, rubbing at his temple. “It’s not like I’d be miserable or anything, I just… It’s not something I think about. But if it was with you, I wouldn’t mind.”

You watch him carefully, the way he keeps shifting, the way he refuses to look at you directly, and it clicks. He’s not just saying this out of obligation. 

He means it. 

“You’re ridiculous,” you murmur, but there’s no bite to it, no real complaint.

You reach out, grabbing his hand, and pulling him just a little closer. “You really don’t have to prove anything to me, you know.”

His shoulders drop slightly, some of the tension bleeding out. “I know.”

But then—he moves. Before you can process it, Geo’s hands are on either side of you, pressing into the mattress as he leans over, caging you in. His weight shifts just enough to pin you in place, and your breath catches.  

His gaze finally meets yours.  

There’s something unreadable in those deep, aquamarine eyes of his—curiosity, maybe, or something tangled and complicated that even he doesn’t fully understand. His lips press into a thin line, his expression flickering between hesitant and determined.  

You swallow hard. “Geo—”  

“I just…” He trails off, exhaling through his nose. His head tilts slightly, studying you. “I’ve never really wanted it before. Never needed it. But with you…” His fingers flex against the sheets, like he’s testing the waters, testing himself. “I don’t know. I kind of want to try.”  

Your pulse thuds against your ribs, a slow, steady drumbeat of disbelief. Because what the fuck? Geo—the man who barely lets people touch him, the one who’s always kept this sort of thing at arm’s length—wants to try?  

It’s not desire in the traditional sense. Not some burning, uncontrollable need. But it’s something.  

Curiosity, maybe. 

The old saying comes to mind, unbidden. Curiosity killed the cat.

You search his face, trying to find some kind of hesitation, some sign that he’s unsure. But he just looks… focused. Determined.  

You wet your lips, your voice quieter now. “Geo, you don’t—”  

“I know,” he cuts you off, shaking his head slightly. “I know I don’t have to. That’s not the point.” His voice drops just a little, something softer threading through it. “I want to see what it’s like. With you.”  

Your heart stutters. Not because of the words themselves—but because of the way he says them. The way he’s looking at you, like you’re the only person in the world.  

Like this—whatever this—actually matters to him.  

His fingers brush against your wrist, light and careful like he’s still figuring out how this is supposed to go, “If that’s okay with you,” still navigating the unfamiliar weight of what he’s just admitted.  

Then, you decide to push your luck. 

You tilt your head slightly, your voice smooth and even, testing the waters. “If you wanna try… maybe you can blindfold me and tie me up, please?”

Geo stills, his reaction immediate, brows furrowing as he processes your words. His grip tenses slightly, his entire body caught somewhere between confusion and intrigue.  

“…You thought of that way too fast,” he mutters, staring at you like you just threw a wrench into his entire thought process.  

You blink up at him, watching as his mind visibly short-circuits, gears turning in real time. It’s rare to see him this thrown off, and you fight the smirk tugging at your lips.  

“What?” you say, feigning innocence. “You did say you wanted to try.”  

Geo narrows his eyes slightly like he’s trying to see through whatever game you’re playing. “And what exactly does that do?”  

You tilt your head, your voice smooth as you explain, “So you can focus on the feeling instead of overthinking everything.”  

His expression shifts—just slightly. His fingers tap idly against your waist, and his lips press together as he exhales sharply through his nose.  

“You’re serious?”  

You shrug beneath him, but there’s no true nonchalance in the gesture.

Soon the room is quiet, save for the soft rustle of fabric and the faint sound of your breathing. Geo sits on the edge of the bed, his hands lingering on the silk blindfold as he finishes tying it securely around your eyes. The smooth fabric glides over your skin, cool and delicate, before darkness envelops you completely. 

Your world narrows to the sound of his breathing, the warmth of his body so close to yours, and the faint scent of him—something clean and faintly musky, grounding you in the moment.

Your arms are bound behind you, the rope firm but not uncomfortable, a reminder of his control and your trust. You shift slightly, testing the restraint, and feel the subtle bite of the rope against your wrists. It’s enough to make your pulse quicken, your skin tingling with anticipation.

Geo hesitates for a moment, his hands resting lightly on your shoulders as if unsure what to do next. You can feel the tension in his touch, the way his fingers flex slightly before stilling. The silence stretches, thick and charged, until you break it.

“Here,” you murmur, your voice soft but steady. “Let me face you.”

You start to move, but your lack of sight makes you clumsy, and you fumble slightly. Geo’s hands are there in an instant, guiding you with a gentleness that belies the intensity of the moment. His palms are warm against your hips as he helps you turn, his touch firm but careful.

When you’re settled in his lap, your legs straddling his, you feel the heat of his bare skin against yours, the intimacy of the position making your breath catch.

He doesn’t say anything, but you can feel his gaze on you, tracing the lines of your body. The rope around your wrists, the blindfold covering your eyes—it’s all so deliberate, so purposeful. You can almost hear the thoughts racing through his mind, the way he’s trying to reconcile the sight of you like this with the part of him that’s still unsure.

Is it wrong that he likes seeing you like this? Bound, vulnerable, yet completely trusting? 

The question lingers in the air, unspoken but palpable. He shifts slightly beneath you, his hands resting on your thighs, his thumbs brushing against your skin in absent circles. The touch is light, almost hesitant as if he’s still processing the reality of the moment.

You feel him exhale, a slow, measured breath before he lifts one hand to cover his face. His forearm rests against his forehead, his expression hidden, but you can sense the conflict in him. He knows why you asked him to do this—it wasn’t just for you. 

It was for him, too. For his enjoyment, his curiosity, and his desire to explore this side of himself. And that realization seems to weigh on him, even as it excites him.

You lean forward slightly, your movements slow and deliberate, and feel the way his body responds to yours. His breath hitches, his hands tightening on your thighs as if to steady himself. The air between you feels electric, every touch, every shift of your body against his, sends ripples of sensation through you both.

“G-Geo,” you whisper, your voice barely audible. You lean in, your lips brushing against his ear as you whisper, “…You can put it inside me if you want.”

The words hang in the air, soft but deliberate, and you feel him tense beneath you. His hands still on your hips, his fingers flexing slightly as if he’s trying to process what you’ve just said. For a moment, he doesn’t respond, and you can almost hear the gears turning in his mind.

“Don’t you need to be, uh… wet for that?” he finally asks, his voice low and hesitant, tinged with a mix of curiosity and disbelief.

You can’t help but smile, your forehead resting against his shoulder as you let out a quiet laugh. “I already am,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “You tying me up earlier… it did things to me.”

Geo pulls back slightly, his hands moving to your shoulders as if to steady himself—or maybe to get a better look at you. Even through the blindfold, you can feel the weight of his gaze, the disbelief written across his face. 

“Wait, seriously?” he asks, his voice rising slightly. “That… that really turned you on?”

You nod, your cheeks flushing as you feel his eyes on you. There’s something about the way he’s looking at you, the way his voice cracks slightly, that makes your stomach twist in the best way. 

“Yeah,” you murmur, your voice soft but steady. “It did.”

For a moment, he just stares at you, his expression a mix of shock and something else—something warmer, more intense. Then, slowly, his hands slide back down to your hips, his touch firmer now, more deliberate. “Okay,” he says, his voice low and rough. “Okay.”

You feel him shift beneath you, his hands guiding you as he positions himself. The first touch of him against you sends a shiver through your body, your breath catching in your throat. And then, slowly, he pushes his cock inside, the sensation of him filling you making your head fall forward onto his shoulder.

“Fuck,” he breathes, his voice strained. “You’re so… warm.”

You can feel the way his body tenses, the way his hands grip your hips tighter as he adjusts to the sensation. His breath is uneven, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he tries to steady himself. “You’re pulsing around me,” he murmurs, his voice barely audible. “How are you… how are you doing that?”

You bite your lip, trying to suppress a smile. “I’m not doing anything,” you say, your voice teasing. “That’s all you.”

Geo lets out a shaky laugh, his hands moving to your back as he pulls you closer. “Stop teasing me,” he says, his voice rough but playful. “You’re going to make me lose it.”

“Sorry,” you murmur, though there’s no real apology in your tone. You shift slightly, feeling him twitch inside you, and hear him groan softly.

“You’re not sorry,” he says, his voice low and amused. “But… I’m not complaining.”

The moment stretches, heavy with anticipation, as you settle more firmly into his lap. The warmth of his skin against yours is intoxicating, and you can feel the way his body tenses beneath you, his breath hitching as you shift your weight. Slowly, you begin to move, pressing with your legs and knees to lift yourself slightly before sinking back down. The sensation is electric, a slow, deliberate rhythm that sends shivers through both of you.

Geo’s hands tighten on your hips, his fingers digging into your skin just enough to ground you, to guide you. You can hear him—quiet, restrained moans escaping his lips, each one sending a thrill through you. 

God, you wish you could see him, see the way his face twists in pleasure, the way his eyes might darken with desire. But the blindfold forces you to focus on everything else: the sound of his breathing, the way his hands tremble slightly against your skin, the heat of his body beneath yours.

“Geo,” you murmur, your voice breathless but steady. “Grab my ass. Help me move.”

He hesitates for a fraction of a second, his hands stilling on your hips, before sliding down to cup your backside. His touch is firm, almost possessive, as he lifts you slightly, guiding your movements. The added support makes it easier to bounce, to set a faster pace, and you can’t help the soft gasp that escapes your lips as the sensation intensifies.

His quiet moans grow louder, and more frequent, and you can feel the way his body responds to yours, the way his hips jerk upward to meet your movements. It’s intoxicating, the way he gives in to the rhythm, the way his hands grip you tighter, pulling you closer with every thrust.

“Fuck,” he breathes, his voice rough and low. “You feel… incredible.”

The praise sends a jolt of heat through you, and you lean forward slightly, your chest brushing against his.

“G-Geo,” you whisper, your voice trembling with need. “For the love of god, play with tits… please.”

He doesn’t respond right away, and for a moment, you wonder if he’s going to refuse. But then you feel his hands shift, one sliding up to cradle your back as the other moves to your chest. His touch is tentative at first, his fingers brushing against your breast before his mouth follows. 

The first swipe of his tongue is slow, almost teasing, and you can’t help the sharp intake of breath that escapes you.

“S-shit,” you murmur, your voice barely audible. 

He doesn’t need further encouragement. His mouth closes over your nipple, his tongue swirling in slow, deliberate circles that send sparks of pleasure shooting through you. The sensation is almost overwhelming, the combination of his mouth on your chest and the way his hands guide your movements making it impossible to think, to focus on anything but the way your body responds to his.

You can feel the tension building in both of you, the way his movements grow more frantic, more desperate. His moans are louder now, more like grunts less restrained, and you can’t help the way your sounds of pleasure escape your lips, mingling with his in the quiet of the room.

“I’m coming…” You mumbled as you felt your body tense, a sharp gasp escaping your lips as pleasure surged through you, overwhelming and electric. You come undone on his cock, your hips stuttering against his, your bound hands twitching behind you as waves of sensation crash over you. 

For a moment, the world narrows to nothing but the feel of him inside you, the way your body clenches around him, and the sound of your ragged breathing.

Geo doesn’t move, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he lets you ride out the waves of your climax. His breath is uneven, his chest rising and falling rapidly, but he hasn’t come yet. 

You can feel the tension in his body, the way he’s holding himself back, and it only makes the moment more intense.

When the last tremors of your orgasm finally subside, you tilt your head slightly, your voice soft and breathless. “Do you want to keep going?”

He doesn’t answer with words. 

Instead, his hands shift, gripping your hips firmly as he guides you off his lap. Before you can process what’s happening, you feel the bed dip beneath you, and then you’re being moved, your body repositioned with a confidence that leaves no room for hesitation. Your face presses into the pillow, the soft fabric muffling your surprised gasp as your hips are lifted, your ass in the air.

The room is a cacophony of sounds—your ragged breaths, the sharp slap of skin against skin, the creak of the bedframe as it strains under the weight of your bodies. The air is thick with heat and heavy with the scent of sweat and desire, and every noise seems to amplify the intensity of the moment. 

You’re both drowning in it, overwhelmed by the raw, unfiltered connection between you. Muttered curses slip from your lips, half-formed and breathless, as Geo’s hands roam your body with a possessive urgency. His touch is everywhere—gripping your waist, sliding down your thighs, tracing the curve of your back before settling firmly on your ass.

The heat of him is undeniable, his presence consuming you as he leans in, his gaze burning into your skin. You feel the blunt pressure of his cock as he pushes back inside you, and the sensation is immediate, electric. 

“F-fuck…” A moan escapes you, unbidden, as your body arches instinctively toward him. 

His movements are quick, each thrust deep and measured, and you can’t help but wonder how he knows exactly how to angle your body, how to control the pace, how to pull the rope binding your wrists to adjust your position. It’s too precise, too instinctive, and the realization sends a shiver down your spine. 

He’s a natural at this, and it’s both thrilling and unnerving.

The rope tightens as Geo pulls you back against him, the soft fibers biting into your skin just enough to remind you of his control. His grip is firm, grounding, a counterpoint to the dizzying pleasure coursing through you. Each tug of the rope sends a shiver down your spine, and your moans grow louder, each one seeming to spur him on, his rhythm shifting to match the urgency building between you.

“Fuck…” he mumbles, his voice rough and low, almost lost in the sound of skin against skin. His thrusts grow more demanding, the obscene, rhythmic slap of his hips against yours echoing in the room, a visceral reminder of how close you are, how connected. You arch your back, pushing yourself closer to him, desperate for more, for everything.

“Geo,” you gasp, his name a plea and a prayer all at once. He responds with a low groan, his hands tightening on your hips as he drives into you harder, faster, each movement deliberate and unrelenting. 

The pleasure builds again, slower this time but no less intense, and you can feel yourself teetering on the edge once more. It hits you with a jolt that he’s not just doing this for himself—he’s doing it for you, too. Every thrust, every pull of the rope, every sound he draws from you is part of the trust you’ve built, the connection you share.

Your back arches like a bowstring as his hands grip your hips, guiding you back into him with every motion. Then, he reaches down to remove the blindfold. The fabric slips away, falling from your face, and the sudden flood of light makes you blink, your eyes adjusting to the room. You turn your head slightly, your face now visible to him, and the sight of you—flushed, breathless, utterly exposed—sends a jolt of electricity through him.

Your hair is a riotous halo, strands sticking to your forehead and temples, and your lips are parted, your expression a mix of vulnerability and defiance. His movements falter, his breath catching in his throat as he feels himself teetering on the edge. His muscles are taut as steel cables under sweat-slick skin, one hand splayed possessively over the small of your back. 

His other hand grips your bound wrists, fingers digging in just enough to make you shiver. He leans over you, his breath audible, ragged, and unsteady, his head dipping like he’s muttering a prayer—or a curse—against your shoulder.

With a low groan, he pulls out abruptly, his release spilling onto your back, hot and urgent. The sensation makes you shiver, your own arousal undeniable as your body throbs, slick and sensitive, a testament to the pleasure he’s drawn from you. 

For a moment, the room is silent except for the sound of your shared breaths, heavy and uneven, the air thick with the weight of what just passed between you.

Geo’s hands move to untie the rope, his touch gentle now, almost reverent, as he works to free you. His fingers ghost over each impression, tracing them with something almost like reverence like he’s committing them to memory while simultaneously regretting their existence. 

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, his voice hoarse but tender, and you can’t help but smile, your body still humming with the aftershocks of what you’ve shared.

“Does it hurt?” His voice is quiet, softer than you’re used to, like he’s unsure if he even wants the answer.  

You shake your head, offering the smallest of smiles. “No, it’s fine.”  

He doesn’t look convinced.  

Geo exhales through his nose, his thumb sweeping gently over the inside of your wrist before he presses a lingering kiss there—chaste, careful, as if to silently make up for every tight knot, every press of rope that had bound you.  

Then, without a word, he shifts off the bed, disappearing for only a moment before returning with a warm towel. The scent of his soap lingers in the fibers as he drags it over your skin, slow and methodical, wiping away any lingering sweat, any remnants of the intensity that had filled the air just minutes ago.  

His touch is purposeful—gentle but firm like he’s grounding you both. There’s no rush, no urgency. Just him, taking his time, making sure you’re okay.  

When he finally sets the towel aside, He leaves you briefly to tug on faded gray sweats and a soft cotton tee, the fabric clinging to his broad shoulders. Returning with an oversized shirt for you, he avoids your gaze, cheeks flushed as he helps you into it. 

“There,” he says gruffly, tugging the hem down to your thighs. “Better.”

You bite back a small laugh. He rolls his eyes at the sound but doesn’t stop, ensuring you’re comfortable before finally settling beside you.  

You arch a brow, biting back a grin. “Aw, can’t handle a little temptation, Sir?” 

Geo huffs, clearly unamused by your teasing, but he doesn’t let go. His fingers stay firm against your skin, his thumbs idly tracing over your jaw like he’s debating something.  

“You’re pushing it,” he mutters, voice lower now, the weight of it settling between you. His eyes flicker, dark and unreadable, lingering on your lips for just a second too long before he exhales, shaking his head.  

You grin despite yourself. “Or what? You’ll tie me up again?”  

You laugh—a bright, teasing sound—until he closes the distance in one swift stride. His palms cradle your face, thumbs brushing your jawline as he leans in, your laughter dissolving into a gasp.

Geo kisses you.  

It’s soft, but firm—like he’s shutting you up in the most effective way he knows how. His lips linger against yours, warm and unhurried, the teasing edge melting from the air as something softer settles between you. When he pulls back, he doesn’t go far, his forehead resting against yours, his breath mingling with yours in the quiet space between.  

“Better?” he murmurs, voice low, slightly rough around the edges.  

You blink up at him, dazed, before breaking into a slow, knowing smile. “That’s one way to do it.”  

Geo huffs, shaking his head before shifting, pushing you back onto the mattress. His weight pins you down—not heavy enough to trap you, but enough that you feel the heat of him pressing into your skin. His arms wrap around you, strong and steady, and before you can react, his face is buried against your chest, his body fully relaxed against yours.  

You freeze for half a second before your lips twitch, barely containing your amusement. “Geo,” you mumble, voice muffled against his tousled hair.  

He doesn’t respond.  

Instead, he just tightens his hold, burrowing closer like he’s refusing to acknowledge whatever flustered thoughts are undoubtedly racing through his head. His grip is warm, and grounding, the steady rhythm of his breathing settling into something slow and even.  

And then, quietly—so quietly you almost don’t catch it—he mutters, “...Can you stay?”  

You blink. Then blink again. Did he really just—  

Your shoulders shake, your hand coming up to cover your mouth as you hold back another laugh. The way his entire body tenses just slightly tells you he knows.

“Shut up,” he grumbles before you can even get a word out, his face pressing further into you, practically smothering himself against your chest in embarrassment.  

You wheeze, trying to compose yourself, but the way he’s acting—the way he asked—has you grinning like an idiot. “I didn’t even say anything.”  

“You were going to.”  

You hum, clearly unconvinced, but let it slide. Instead, you run your fingers through his hair, feeling the tension in his shoulders slowly ease as you rake your nails lightly against his scalp.  

His breath slows. His grip stays firm. 

And in the dim quiet of his room, you murmur, “Yeah, Geo. I’ll stay.”  

Meanwhile, somewhere else, Perssila lay on her bed, her phone gripped tightly in her hand. She stared at the text message you had sent earlier, her brow furrowed in confusion. 

Perssila: You’re asking about rope? At Geo's place? 

It didn’t make sense to her—Geo was a mystery, sure, but ropes? What exactly were you getting into over there? It had been hours since she last heard from you, and her mind was starting to spiral. A million thoughts ran through her head. 

Had something happened? 

Was Geo... too much for you? 

The worst-case scenarios played out in her mind, one after the other. She bit her lip nervously, already preparing a second text, but she stopped herself. 

Before she could hit send, she heard footsteps behind her. Crowe’s presence was unmistakable, and in an instant, he was lying beside her, his weight sinking into the bed as he settled on top of her, arms wrapping around her like a shield. His breath brushed against her ear, and she could feel the heat of his body pressing against hers. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked softly, his voice low, but filled with concern. 

She didn’t answer right away, her eyes still locked on the screen of her phone, the message lingering there like a question she couldn’t solve. She was worried—so damn worried about you. Geo is quiet and somewhat unpredictable. The fact that you went over there to get to know him more... it was risky. You were her friend, her responsibility, and yet she couldn’t shake the feeling that something had gone wrong. 

“I just—” she started, her voice tight. “I haven’t heard from them in hours, Crowe. They went to Geo’s place, and I haven’t gotten any updates. I sent so many texts, and nothing. I—” She cut herself off, turning her head so her face was buried in the pillow, trying to shake off the gnawing feeling in her gut. 

Crowe didn’t say anything at first, just tightened his arms around her, his hands rubbing soothing circles on her back. She could feel the steady beat of his heart against her own, the rhythm steady and reassuring. 

“Geo’s not the kind of guy to hurt anyone,” Crowe murmured, his tone low and steady like he was trying to calm her with his words. “He’s… different. But I’m sure they’re fine. Geo’s not like that.” 

Perssila let out a shaky breath, not fully convinced. She knew Crowe was trying to comfort her, but the lingering doubt still gnawed at her. 

“Yeah, well,” she said, voice muffled into the pillow. “I’m still worried.” 

She could feel Crowe shift, his lips brushing against the back of her neck in a soft, comforting kiss. It was gentle, meant to reassure her, to calm her fears. His lips were warm against her skin, and the way his breath ghosted over her ear made her body relax, if only slightly.

“Don’t worry so much,” Crowe said, his voice almost a whisper. “They’re tough. Geo wouldn’t hurt them, and if something was wrong, they would’ve called. You’ll hear from them soon, I promise.” 

Perssila let herself breathe out, her body slowly relaxing under his touch. 

Crowe stayed there for a moment longer, his arms wrapped securely around her as if trying to shield her from the worrying thoughts swirling in her mind. He kissed the back of her neck again, the soft pressure of his lips lingering just a bit longer this time before pulling away.

“Come on,” he said softly, his voice a little warmer now. “Let’s get our minds off this, yeah? Takeout’s on the way.”

Perssila let out a small, tired laugh, finally lifting her head from the pillow, her eyes meeting his. There was still some unease in her gaze, but Crowe’s presence was grounding. As much as she was worried about you, she knew she needed a break from the tension.

“I’m not hungry,” she muttered, though her stomach gave a soft, almost imperceptible growl, betraying her words.

Crowe raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “You know we both ordered, right? And you can’t sit there and pretend you’re not starving. You’ve been running on stress all day.”

She huffed, but there was no real bite to it. She just didn’t want to admit that she was, in fact, hungry—just didn’t feel like she could relax, not when she was so caught up in thoughts of you.

“I don’t know,” she said with a little shrug. “Just... worried. About them. You know how they can get when they dive into something.”

Crowe nodded, looking sympathetic but determined. “Yeah, I get it. But hey, you can’t control everything. Sometimes you gotta just trust they’ve got it covered.” He gave her a soft but teasing smile. “Besides, you need energy to deal with me later.”

Despite herself, Perssila rolled her eyes, but the tension in her shoulders loosened, just a little. Crowe always had a way of getting her to laugh, even in moments when she felt like the world was too heavy.

“I’m not in the mood for your shenanigans,” she replied dryly, but her voice was softer now.

Crowe stood up from the bed, stretching his arms out above his head as he moved toward the door. “Oh, I’m sure you’ll warm up to them. Takeout’s here in fifteen. I’ll be in the kitchen setting it up.”

With that, he left the room, and Perssila lay there for a few moments longer, her mind still stuck on you. But she knew Crowe was right—she couldn’t keep worrying herself sick over things she couldn’t control.

Slowly, she pushed herself off the bed, grabbing her phone one last time to check for any updates. Nothing. But she didn’t have the energy to keep checking. Instead, she slipped into her slippers and padded into the kitchen, where Crowe was already arranging the takeout on the counter, the smell of hot food filling the air.

Ding!

Perssila’s heart skipped a beat as the soft ping of the message broke the silence. Her fingers moved quickly, swiping to unlock her phone, and she practically tore open the message as soon as it appeared on her screen. Relief flooded her chest when she saw that it was from you.

You: Yeah, I’m chilling now.

Perssila exhaled in a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. The knot of worry in her stomach loosened, but only just a little. She quickly typed her response, her fingers almost moving too fast for her to catch up with herself.

Perssila: So... did you find out what the rope was for?

She bit her lip as she hit send, the question lingering on her mind like a thorn. She knew you were fine now, but her curiosity couldn't help but get the best of her. The thought of you over at Geo’s place, dealing with whatever the hell was going on there—it didn't sit right with her.

She sat back against the counter, her fingers drumming impatiently against the side of her phone as she waited for the reply

Her phone buzzed again, snapping her back to reality. Perssila’s eyes snapped to the screen, her heart quickening a little as she saw your message pop up.

You: Not what I expected... Let’s just say Geo’s got some interesting hobbies.

Perssila raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a slight smirk. Interesting hobbies? That’s one way to put it.

Perssila: Interesting how? You’re not in any kind of danger, right?"

She chewed on the edge of her thumb, hoping that she wasn’t reading too much into the cryptic message. She really didn’t want to sound like she was overthinking things, but she couldn’t help it. The idea of you over there, with Geo and whatever it was that he did... it didn’t sit right. 

You: God no, he would never ! Kinda the opposite !

Perssila paused, trying to decipher what you meant. It sounded vague, and that only made her more curious. 

She stared at the screen for a moment, fingers hovering over the keyboard, unsure of how to respond. She didn’t want to sound like she was pushing, but she couldn’t stop herself from asking the next question.

Perssila: What the opposite?? Girl explain…

Her stomach churned, a mix of concern and confusion settling in. She didn’t know what you were getting at, but it sounded like things had shifted in a way she hadn’t expected.

Geo’s 'interesting hobbies' and the way you'd worded things made her think that maybe you were a little more tangled up in all this than you were letting on.

You: Just... a lot of stuff I wasn’t expecting.

The suspense was killing her. What did that mean? 

Ding!

You: sent images !!!

Perssila let out a strangled noise, somewhere between a gasp and a scream, her phone slipping from her fingers and clattering onto the counter. 

“What the actual fuck,” she whispered to herself, staring at the device as it had personally committed a crime against her. But despite her body’s visceral reaction, her hands itched to pick the phone back up, to confirm that she hadn’t just hallucinated whatever the hell you had just sent her.

Slowly, hesitantly, she snatched it back and forced herself to look at the images again.

The first one was already enough to make her brain melt—your arms bound behind your back, the ropes so expertly placed that they framed your body like something out of a goddamn high-fashion photoshoot. The tension in the bindings was obvious, snug but not harsh, emphasizing every curve and dip in a way that was almost too intimate. It was... artistic. Too artistic. 

She swallowed hard, her fingers gripping the phone like it was the only thing grounding her in reality.

Then the second photo. 

Perssila slammed a hand over her mouth to muffle the horrified squeak that nearly escaped. Geo’s goddamn foot was planted firmly on your back, pressing you down against the floor in a way that was undeniably dominant. The bastard wasn’t even looking at the camera properly—his gaze was fixed on you, half-lidded and unreadable, like he was admiring his own work. 

"Oh my god," she muttered, her brain absolutely refusing to comprehend the implications. 

But then—the third image.

Her stomach dropped. She should ignore it. She really, really should. But of course, she didn’t.

With trembling fingers, she tapped on the notification, opening the third picture.

Perssila regretted everything.

Geo was seated behind you, his pale hand curled loosely around your throat, fingers pressing just enough to tilt your chin up. Your lips were parted slightly, your expression unreadable but undeniably relaxed, almost like you belonged there. Like this was normal. 

And the ropes? The way they framed you? The way they emphasized every inch of your body?

Her soul left her body.

Perssila: WHAT AM I LOOKING AT. HELLO??? 

She barely had time to process it before another message popped up.  

You: Just Geo and I playing around. I learned some things about him. About myself too, I guess. 

Perssila: LEARNED WHAT???

Perssila: THIS IS A CRIME. I’M GOING TO JAIL JUST FOR WITNESSING THIS.

You: Noooo, you’re fine. It’s all fun. Geo has taste.

Perssila: TASTE??? THAT MAN JUST USED YOU AS A GODDAMN FOOTREST.

Perssila screamed into her hands, her stomach twisted in confusion, concern, and the undeniable urge to scream. What kind of ‘learning’ was this?? What did you mean you were learning about yourself?!  

Meanwhile, Crowe, who had been quietly watching her meltdown from across the room, finally leaned over, his curiosity piqued. 

"What’s got you all worked up?" he asked, his tone far too casual.

Just as she was about to throw her phone across the room, Crowe’s voice sliced through the tension in the air, his frown deepening as he noticed her sudden, extreme reaction.

"Everything okay?" His voice held a soft, concerned edge as he set his food down and leaned forward. 

Perssila jerked, her face heating up even further. She quickly tried to swipe the phone out of view, hoping he wouldn’t see what she was looking at, but it was too late. Crowe squinted. His eyes flicked between the images, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, he sucked in a breath through his teeth.  

“Damn.” He leaned back, nodding to himself. “Did not have that on my bingo card.”  

Perssila slapped his arm. “This isn’t funny, Crowe!”  

He chuckled, rubbing his arm as he stole another glance at the screen. “I mean... it kinda is.”  

Perssila groaned again, dropping her head onto the table. “I hate everything.”  

Ding!  

Another message.  

You: Don’t worry. It’s all safe, promise. Geo’s a real perfectionist when it comes to this. It’s called ~shibari~. 😌

Perssila lifted her head just enough to type out a response.  

Perssila: I’M SURE HE IS. BUT WHY DOES IT LOOK LIKE YOU'RE HAVING A DAMN SPIRITUAL AWAKENING IN THESE PHOTOS.

You: Because I am !  

Perssila: I’M GOING TO THROW UP.

Perssila stared at her message, her mind struggling to comprehend what she was reading. Her phone buzzed again with another reply, and against her better judgment, she looked.

You: sent an image !

A selfie from you popped up, your face in a peace sign, a grin stretching across your face, while Geo lay on top of you—completely out of it, arms wrapped around you like a teddy bear, his face nestled against your neck, dead asleep. You looked half-amused, half-chilled, while Geo was in another world, like a snuggly corpse.

Perssila: …Mission success, huh? 😑

You: Yeah. He’s a snuggly corpse now. 10/10.

Perssila groaned and dropped her face into her hands, completely mortified. 

Perssila: BUT NEVER SEND ME YOUR KINKY SHIT. MY EYES HAVE TRAUMA. 🔪

Crowe’s gaze was still locked on her, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "You okay there, love?" He asked his tone teasing but with an undercurrent of genuine concern. 

She glanced at him, blushing hard, but the absurdity of the situation made her crack a smile. “…I’m never going to unsee that," she muttered, rolling her eyes. 

Meanwhile, back with you, your eyes lingered on your phone, a mix of emotions twisting in your chest. You hoped Perssila knew you hadn’t meant any harm with the pictures—you thought it was funny. But despite that, an awkward tightness settled inside you, making it hard to shake the unease.

Just as you were about to type something else, Geo suddenly reached up and snatched the phone straight from your hands. The sudden movement startled you, your body freezing for a moment as your gaze snapped to him.

He still held you tightly, one strong arm wrapped securely around your waist, keeping your back pressed against his chest. The warmth of him was grounding, but his grip on the phone was firm, ignoring any protest you might’ve made.

You blinked in shock, barely able to process what just happened before his fingers curled around the back of your neck, pulling you in closer. The motion was gentle but deliberate, keeping you locked against him. 

“Be still,” he murmured, his voice low and unwavering, carrying a quiet authority that made it impossible to ignore. His thumb absently brushed over your wrist, the same one that had been holding your phone just moments ago. You could feel the subtle tension in his muscles, the way his body stayed attuned to yours as if making sure you didn’t slip away. 

“No texting Perssila right now.”

You stared at him, confusion flickering across your face. "How do you even know I was texting her?" you asked, your tone just a little accusing.

Geo exhaled sharply, amusement flickering in his eyes as he kept his hold on you. "Because," he said, tilting his head slightly, "I saw the messages and missed calls from her earlier—before we took those pictures of you." 

Your stomach flipped.

Wait. 

What?

Your mouth opened, but no words came out at first, your mind scrambling to catch up. "You—what?" you finally spluttered, unable to hide the shock in your voice. You’d assumed he was just letting you send a few messages, not that he had been paying attention the entire time.

Geo exhaled, shaking his head, though the subtle smirk tugging at his lips gave away his amusement. "You really thought I wouldn’t notice?"  

Your face heated instantly. “I’m sorry, Geo, I—”  

He cut you off with a quiet chuckle, his grip on your waist unwavering. “Relax. I don’t really care if it’s just between her.” His voice was calm, almost too casual. “And I’m sure Jericho saw too.”  

Your stomach dropped.  

He gave the slightest squeeze, his fingers pressing against your side, grounding you in place. “I just have to make sure they keep quiet about it.”  

You swallowed hard, pulse hammering in your ears. There was something about the way he said it—so effortless, so damn confident—that sent a shiver down your spine.  

This man was impossible.  

And yet…  

Who would've thought a little bondage would lead to this?

[revolutionsingingintherainnn]

aakhon mein teri ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Summary: Lando Norris and his very desi girlfriend <3

: ̗̀➛ ln4 x desi!reader ₊˚⊹♡

: ̗̀➛ fluff + humour ₊˚⊹♡

masterlist ☾☼

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

yourusername

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri and 321,970 others

yourusername: manifesting that our story doesn't end like om shanti om

view all 85,261 comments

landonorris this movie was traumatising

yourusername no it wasn't!

user1 it really is

landonorris next time im picking a movie for movie night

yourusername no 😚

user2 dunno who i love more srk or lando

yourusername the only reason im with lando is cause srk is too old for me

landonorris wtf babe????

maxfewtrell you need to stop showing him movies that'll keep him up at night

carlossainz he's a child

danielricciardo too young to watch horror movies

landonorris THANK YOU

user3 i love how they came for lando's rescue 😂😂😂

yourusername

liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1 and 715,026 others

yourusername gora pakora with his little spicy pakora

view all 291,008 comments

landonorris youre so beautiful

yourusername no you

landonorris i am

yourusername 😒

landonorris wtf is a gora pakora

user1 NO ONE TELL HIM

user2 youre a gora pakora lando

oscarpiastri yall are cute

yourusername lily and i are cuter tho

alexalbon youve already stolen my lily, why do you need another one

yourusername alexalbon im collecting all your girlfriends and then we're gonna ditch yall and live happily ever after

charlesleclerc alexandrasaintmleux stay away

alexandrasaintmleux no 😚

user3 PARENTS

user4 LANDO IN A KURTA LANDO IN A KURTA THIS IS NOT A DRILL I REPEAT THIS IS NOT A DRILL

user5 im dead he looks so beautiful

yourusername

liked by mclaren, landonorris and 853,017 others

yourusername poor guy's gonna lose all his money now that he's marrying me

view all 604,321 comments

landonorris can't wait to marry you

mclaren congratulations to the happy couple!

user6 shes such a gold digger

user1 no you dumbass. indian weddings have like, 13 different ceremonies to it

user2 my parents are getting married

user4 can't believe he's willingly giving away all of his money to her

carlossainz congratulation kids

danielricciardo they grow up so fast

maxverstappen1 i just read somewhere that there are 13 ceremonies???

yourusername yes there's going to be a meeting about it. i expect you to be there

maxverstappen1 im scared

yourusername you should be

oscarpiastri cant believe youre getting married!

user5 i love how y/n's gonna have a meeting to explain the wedding process to all of them

user1 indian weddings are no joke 😭😭😭

yourusername

liked by landonorris, maxfewtrell and 981,003 others

yourusername my radha was on the dance floor 🕺❤️

view all 704,692 comments

landonorris im so happy i married you i love you sm

yourusername i love you sm too

user1 WE NEED MORE DETAILS

carlossainz how did your wedding end up being more tiring than a triple header???

yourusername its the beauty of indian weddings

oscarpiastri i honestly feel like im still drunk

landonorris as you should be

mclaren NO AS YOU SHOULDNT BE

georgerussell beautiful beautiful wedding guys

yourusername carmen looked so pretty i wouldve married her instead

carmenmmundt YES

georgerussell NO

landonorris NO

danielricciardo all those dance practices paid off

yourusername you bet im gonna use the sangeet videos on your birthdays

charlesleclerc please dont we beg you

yourusername MWAHAHA

alexalbon landonorris your wife is being mean to us

yourusername he won't say anything he loves me

landonorris i do

maxfewtrell whipped

user2 I NEED TO SEE THIS VIDEO

user4 im so happy for them im gonna cry

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

this is my first smau! i'm still learning to do these, so I'm sorry if this was bad! the dupatta getting caught on lando's watch idea was a request by @justadesirebel and I'm so sorry it took me so much time to make this! but, anyways, I hope you guys enjoyed this! also, the title "aakhon mein teri" translated means "in your eyes" and I chose that because the scene in the movie when the actress' dupatta gets caught in the actor's watch, that's the song playing in the background! i've also got a link for my taglist that you can find here!

i'd love your support! https://ko-fi.com/kavi2305

[raycatzdraws]

Wind and Spirit have a bad time in the Sacred Realm!

It's my Spirit Tracks x LU fic / concept / thing! There are a couple written scenes which can be read on AO3! This is one of them and can be read [here!]. I don't see myself continuing this project, but even so, I want to say some thank yous (under the read more)!

The animatic has no audio, but if it did, it would be Robot Soldiers from Castle in the Sky.

---

The project isn't something I think I'll be finishing, but that said, it's been fun to work on.

I know it's just a silly unfinished fic and some art and maybe I'll come back to it, however, I am just a little guy with so much gratitude! It meant so much to me to be so welcomed by the LU fandom when I initially posted that Spirit Tracks LU art compilation in 2021. (this one!) The art and fic couldn't have been made without the incredible art, writing, support, and headcanon brainstorming from the people around me and the inspiration I found in their works and ideas.

Thank you to everyone who's left comments and kind tags!

Thank you to @esthelle-wanders for the excited comments and support over the years.

Thank you to @snowylynxx for her Spirit Tracks LU comics which gave me so much motivation and whose Spirit design I've been borrowing.

To @theegh0st. I adore your art! A frame from the pump trolley animation has been your header for so long and it's so fun to see it when visiting your blog. It's been an honor!

And thank you so much to Wicked (@spirit-tracks) and Train (@fuckit-hero-of-trains) for 1) being unhinged in the best possible way about Spirit Tracks and 2) for your incredible writing <3

If you like Spirit in LU fics, then I really recommend Keeping Track of the Little Things by wickedcriminal. Wicked started a headcanon post about Spirit [here], it got picked up and added to, I made some art, and Wicked made a fic. Spirit worrying about his place in the group and stressing about time management is a headcanon I'm fond of. Worrying about schedules is something Time can probably relate on, and so it's something I wanted to include for them to connect over in a moment of downtime. Though the setting and stakes are different, Wicked has already written something similar to how I imagine the scene would play out, and it's absolutely wonderful.

!!! The project meant so much at the time! Some of the work I did on the lore is so cool!!! There's a bit of lore about the Triforce that was given in OoT which we hadn't seen happen in a game, but that I wanted for the Spirit Tracks fic, so I plotted it out. So then (spoilers for Echoes of Wisdom) to see it in Echoes was really cool!!!! It was really validating that, yeah I read that right and executed it how it was meant to! >:) There's other stuff too, but anyways aaaa

I just don't see myself completing it, though. It feels kind of bad to give it away but I also need to be free of it. It's been nearly four years... which is wild!

Thank you again for reading and for the support and enthusiasm up to now. It means a lot to know there were people invested in a story I made. It's small and fragmented, but still. Thank you.

(maybe maybe maybe I'll draw a couple more scenes as I have been, but for the fic, I am releasing writing while also saying it's going to be unfinished and discontinued asjdsahdgs sorry 'xD is that a thing people can do? I think the scenes are cool! That's just,,, all I'm able to write I think. Can people post just- isolated scenes? ,,,, That's definitely a thing. I still felt like I should say something. ANYWAYS <3 See ya!)

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

Bucky treating you like a princess when you’re on your period

Pairings: Boyfriend!Bucky Barnes x Girlfriend!Reader

Summary: Bucky takes care of you when you’re on your period.

Warnings: Fluff, language, Bucky being the best boyfriend ever, periods, crying, hugs and kisses, cuddling, pet names

Written on my phone. I’m sorry for any mistakes.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creators. I found it on Pinterest.

Bucky heard a whiny groan come from the bathroom. He knows that groan. That’s the noise you make when you get your period. He watched as you walked out of the bathroom and got back in bed with tears brimming your eyes. Bucky wrapped his arms around you and pulled you closer to him.

“Is it your time of the month?” Bucky asks softly.

You nodded your head and sniffled. He pulled you onto his lap and rubbed your back with his vibranium hand.

“How about I go get us something to eat, ok?” He says.

“Yes please.” You say quietly, loud enough for him to hear.

Bucky kissed your lips softly and gently maneuvered you to lay on the bed. He covered you up with a blanket and kissed your forehead, making you giggle.

“Get some rest, doll. I’ll be home in a little bit.” He says softly.

You watched as Bucky grabbed his keys and wallet before drifting off to sleep. Your nap was short lived when you woke up to a bad cramp in your lower abdomen. You whimpered at the pain and slowly sat up. You went in the bathroom and rummaged through the medicine cabinet for aspirin, but couldn’t find any. You whined and went back to yours and Bucky’s bedroom. You seen one of Bucky’s shirts on the floor. You picked it up and changed out of the shirt you’re wearing and put on Bucky’s shirt. You smiled to yourself, smelling Bucky’s scent on it.

You walked out of the bedroom and went to the kitchen for some water. You made yourself comfortable on the couch and scrolled through Netflix. You found your favorite movie and played it. You fell asleep about halfway through it. Bucky came home around the same time. He put the grocery bags in the kitchen before going to the bedroom, thinking you were in there, but you weren’t. Bucky frowned and went to the living room, hearing soft snores coming from the couch. He smiled when he seen you. He paused your movie and sat down next to you on the couch. He noticed tears on your face and you mumbling something in your sleep.

“Doll, wake up. You’re dreaming.” Bucky says softly, gently shaking you.

You jumped and sat up, immediately throwing yourself in Bucky’s arms and started crying. He pulled you onto his lap and rubbed your back to soothe you.

“You’re ok, babydoll.” He coos. “Do you want to tell me what happened in your dream?” He says.

“You left me cause you didn’t love me anymore.” You tell him.

Bucky gently cupped your cheeks, getting you to look him in the eye.

“I want you to listen to me when I say this.” He starts. “I love you with all of my heart, babydoll. You’re the love of my life. I’m never going to leave you.” He says.

“Promise?” You asked with a pout.

“I promise.” He almost whispers.

Bucky kissed you with so much passion. He made you feel like you were the only girl in the world in that moment.

“I love you so much, doll.” He says.

“I love you more, Bucky.” You say with a smile.

Bucky played your movie while he held you on his lap. You weren’t really paying attention to the movie. You got distracted with Bucky’s dog tags.

“Do you want to see what I got at the store?” Bucky asks, breaking the silence.

“Yes please.” You say.

You got off of Bucky’s lap and stood up. Bucky took your hand in his, leading you to the kitchen. You watched as Bucky took everything out of the plastic bags, showing you what he bought. Your emotions got the best of you and you started tearing up.

“What’s wrong, my sweet doll?” Bucky asks with concern in his voice.

“I feel like a shitty girlfriend.” You say.

“No you’re not.” He says.

“Yes I am.” Tears rolled down your cheeks. “I didn’t realize you love me this much.” You say.

“I always confess my love to you. You know that.” He says, hugging you.

After a moment, Bucky wiped your tears away and you looked at what he bought with a smile on your face.

“You always treat me like a princess.” You say, looking up at him.

“That’s because you’re my princess.” He says, softly pecking your lips.

“I thought I was your doll.” You say with a playful pout.

“You are. You’re my princess doll.” He says, smiling down at you.

You giggled and stood on your tippy toes to kiss him.

“Can we cuddle and watch movies while we eat what you bought?” You asked.

“Of course we can, babydoll.” He says, kissing you once more.

You and Bucky got the snacks and went back to the living room to watch movies. When you’re on your period and when you’re not, Bucky always treats you like a princess.

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

-Bucky’s Doll

[atimelessheaven]

heyyy can i request for Kaitlyn Chen fic?(THERE ARE BARELY ANY ON THIS APP & I LOVE HER MAN) Specifically fluff maybe like after an argument and she sees me struggling with homework and stuff and helps me out but still being slightly mad , but all is good at the end like cuddling etc

Party Time? Study Time.

sorry again for how long this took to get out, i’ve been on vacation.

huge thank you to @yailtsv for the header, and phone call image! very thankful.

fluff ◡̈

Kaitlyn Chen x Reader!

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

9:45 pm- on a friday night, i have an assignment due at 11:59. im currently sitting at my desk, wearing my cute little mini skirt, and low cut top. tears streaming down my face, attempting to finish this stupid research paper.

how did i get here? great question.

7:15 am- breakfast with my girlfriend, kaitlyn:

“so baby what are your plans for this weekend?” kaitlyn asked, while cutting my pancakes for me. princess treatment duh.

“we’ll later tonight i planned to go out with my friends to-“ i said trying to answer before kaitlyn cut in.

“did you finish your research paper?” she asked looking at me with this knowing look

“well no, but-“ i say trying to explain myself. “no. that’s an important grade. you know that. you can’t go out if you aren’t doing your assignments. especially an assignment that counts for 28% of your grade. baby that’s a terrible idea. it will tank your GPA.” kaitlyn says objecting to my nighttime plans.

“but baby, all of my friends are going out. i promised them i’d go too.” i say pouting “it’s just this one time.”

“no baby. if you wanted to go that bad you should’ve gotten your work done. you know better. besides if you’re fine with slacking off this “one time” on an important grade, how many times are you going to put off less important assignments in the future? you’re digging yourself in a hole.” kaitlyn responded sticking firm to her no. my pout not even phasing her.

“but i promised them!” i say getting frustrated at her persistent no. my voice slightly raising, with my attitude rising.

“don’t raise your voice at me” she deadpans. “you’re okay with your grades dropping? your goals slipping out of reach? the future you’ve worked so hard for leaving in an instant over some dumb party? you’re okay promising YOURSELF that? is that what i’m hearing?” kaitlyn really emphasizing the “yourself” making me freeze, and pout.

“fine” i say with attitude just wanting to end the conversation.

“i’m going to let the attitude slide for now, but it needs to stop. im getting tired of it. do you understand? i love you, i just want what’s best for you. you know that.” kaitlyn says leaning over to kiss my forehead. i just nod my head in silence.

8:57 pm- i’m at the bar, with friends, about three shots in:

I see i’m getting a call from kaitlyn, so i obviously answer excited to talk to my favorite girl.

“hi baby!” i say very over enthusiastic with my tipsy self.

“babe. why does your location say you’re at the bar? and why does it sound like you’re under the influence?” kaitlyn says sounding very frustrated.

“it says i’m at the bar? must be because i am.” i say sounding very proud of myself, unsure why she sounds so upset.

“oh, so you went out of your way to disobey what i asked you to do? is it that hard to just listen to me?”

“hmm?” i respond to her little rant, not being able to focus with the alcohol running through me.

“are you really that far gone? you don’t remember? or you can’t comprehend what i’m saying?” she pauses waiting for me to reply but when i start she cuts me off “you know what? just save it. i have an uber on the way to get you. it’s going to text you when they get there. i love you be careful.” she said before she hung up.

9:15 pm- i get the text from my uber and im headed home like kaitlyn wanted:

i step inside about ten minutes later and see kaitlyn looking oddly calm, sitting on the couch watching tv.

“hi babe” i say softly, not wanting to upset her, but also to let her know im acknowledging her presence.

“hi angel, i’m glad you’re home safe. your assignment is due in” she looks at her watch and thinks about it for just a second “about 2.5 hours. you might want to get started on it.” she said still looking at the tv, not even so much as glancing at you.

instead of responding i just walked into my room, sat down at my desk. not even bothering to change. i was determined to prove to her i could party, and stay on top of my studies, even if that wasn’t actually the original plan.

9:45 pm- im now here. crying over my computer. i can’t think straight. my head is hurting, nothing is making sense to me, im tired. to top it off, i can’t hear my girlfriend laughing at the show she’s watching, and it’s killing me. knowing she’s upset with me hurts, especially because it is my fault. i decided not to listen to her.

i hear footsteps towards the door, so i decide to look locked in. i don’t want her to know im crying.

“babe, i could hear you crying, stop pretending.” she immediately said as she walked in the door and took in the scene. me pretending to read an article on google, leaned over the computer, honestly pretending she isn’t there.

“angel. look at me.” she said gently, while turning my face. “what’s going on?”

as soon as she asked i just broke down crying again, even though i disappointed her, she was still making sure i was okay. i don’t know what i did to deserve her.

“i can’t do this paper” i said between sobs.

“why not? what part aren’t you understanding?” she asked in the most caring tone.

“all of it, i’m just tired, none of it is making sense. i can’t do it.”

after that, she helped me with my paper, not doing it for me, just helping. she said that even though it might not be the grade i could’ve got, it’s the one i deserved for thinking it wasn’t important.

11:48 pm- the assignment is submitted. finally.

about an hour into kaitlyn helping me, she took pitty and let me fall asleep against her, while she did the assignment for me. she’s a godsend.

i woke up to the feelings of being lifted, and carried

“shhh angel, go back to sleep, i’m just carrying you to your bed.” she said leaning down to kiss my cheek.

she set me down on my bed, laying next to me. my head immediately falling to her chest.

“i’m sorry” i mumbled into her chest half asleep.

“i know baby. next time just please listen to me. i hate being upset with you, but sometimes it’s unavoidable when you do something ive told you not to do. the only reason id ever tell you not to do something, is because it crosses a boundary, or it isn’t in your best interest. i just need you to trust me when i tell you no sometimes.” she said into the top of my head. making sure i know she’s not mad at me, and that she just wants me to trust her more when she tells me things.

i just nod my head.

“i love you baby, you know that right?” she said in a genuine questioning tone.

when i just nod my head, that wasn’t good enough for her. “i know you’re sleepy, but i need to hear you say it.”

“yes kait, i know you love me. i love you too. so much.” i said to her softly. snuggling further into her chest. her arms wrapped protectively around my waist.

“goodnight angel, i love you so much, get some sleep.” she said as i drifted off asleep, content in her arms.

[kedreeva]

Any bird artists/graphic designers/photo-editors out there that might be willing to make a logo and/or a merch design for our local small game bird association, after the new year?

Story below the cut if you want more info

I'm currently in the process of taking over my state game bird association's website stuff, to help them recover after incredibly bad leadership did their level best to wreck it entirely. It's a "State" association, in that it's for people in this state but isn't run by the state, it's just like. a few people who like game birds who have made nonprofit (like an actual 501(c)) club for other people that like game birds. There's less than 100 members in it according to the registry I saw, to give you an idea what it's like. I'm dealing with one 70+ year old lady, one Older Mom (who isn't even in the association anymore) that helped transfer stuff out of her name, and one Other Lady (who is apparently the sister of one of the hospital board members, but who lacks her sister's desire to watch the world burn I guess) that I've only had phone conversations with so far. I've so far been able to get their website under control and I'm working on getting their facebook back into their hands (it's still being held hostage by a hostile board member they're trying to get rid of), and to try to help them all limp into being a functional association again, like it was when I first started interacting with it 20 years ago.

That being said, in the transfer of the site, the previous site is 100% lost, including all old graphics. No one still in the association has any of the old graphics saved. That's fine, they were.... terrible. Like, this is an old preview pic of the site banner

Truly terrible. So, not gonna lie, kinda glad it's gone forever.

There is an OLDER banner, from before dickhead mcfuckface took over the association, and it's "better" but it's very clearly got an 80s vibe like you would not believe

But, the old lady that is running the association now asked me about having a header on the front page, so here I am. I told her that there were a TON of talented artists that would be happy to be paid (all of the following would be PAID work, if the association can afford it and if not they will just do without, I was VERY clear about needing to pay artists for work) to design a logo and/or some kind of graphic designer that could help with a little banner for the website. She also asked me about selling t-shirts and hats, since some people at the swaps have asked for them. I told her that a nice looking logo would be a good start for that kind of thing, but that I could ask around and see if anyone wanted to draw a game bird design to sell at their bake sale table or maybe redbubble or something similar so people can just get what they want.

I'm sorry that this is vague, but beyond the logo/site header, I'm not sure exactly what they are going to want, just that they are going to want An Artist Or Three. You'd be dealing with me once I've wrangled them into telling me what they exactly want for anything outside the website.

As for the website, I actually don't mind the basic design of the second banner (the 80's one, a rectangle, circle badge logo in the middle, game animals to either side), and I think it would be good to bring back that general feel, but cleaner and brighter on colors, and different animals. The club does not really deal with deer or raccoons regularly, and pheasants are not the only game birds. I was thinking maybe just doing birds on both sides. Peacocks, pheasant, chicken, turkey, ducks, quail, and dove(s) are the most common at swap meets, so some combo of those would be nice (doesn't need to have all of them), as that's what members will mostly be raising.

If that's something you feel you might be interested in, and can provide your pricing & an example of your style so I can bring it to them and tell them I want them to pay you to give me things for the site and/or association at large.

For the laughs, here is what I "mocked up" for them as an idea

But they also liked the idea of a plain badge logo like this one (because they don't live and breathe peafowl I assume, it's the only explanation)

anyway. if you have the art skills and wanna help a bird nerd group out, please let me know!

[sillylittlejellyfish]

SharkBoy and LavaGirl

Synopsis: You and your twin brother get on camp with the help of Percy and his friends, your sister is lost and when they come back from looking from her they say that she died. Some years later and you're really close to Percy, or shall I say, SharkBoy. Maybe something may happen between you two?

Pairing: percy jackson x fem!reader, nico di angelo x twinsister!reader(platonic)

Warnings: English is not my first language,bad writing??, making out(nothing too heavy tho), some cuss words but there's like only 4? I changed a bit The original story and aged up a little the characters! They met when they were 14,jusr so you don't get lost while reading. Proofread once, so if there's anything wrong tell me! The "headers" are not mine,they are from @cafekitsune

Words:3.5K (I never wrote something this much before lmao)

a/n: I'm a bit sick theses days and work + school have been killing me. so it took me a while to write this one. I don't know if Iike it or not,let me know what you think!

Masterlist

Percy Jackson Masterlist

the strange monster comes my way, I feel the guitar pick necklace that Chiron, my teacher, gave me start to shift and it suddenly turns into a bow and arrow, I quickly grab them and shoot the arrow in the manticore, as I do this I quickly see it turn into ashes that fly with the wind.

I fall into my knees feeling tired, I look around for my brother and my sister  and I can't see them anywhere, but I see Groover,Annabeth and Percy running to me, I start to fall to the side  and my vision start to blur,before they could reach me, I pass out and everything I see is black.

Percy's POV

Y/n passed out just as soon as I reached her and Nico di Angelo, her twin brother, arrived as  soon as I got there, I grab her before she falls completely on the ground and I carry her I'm my arms, turning around and start walking to Grover and Annabeth with her in my arms and Nico right after me.

"Have you seen bianca?" Bianca is their sister,  we haven't seen her since we got here, but we can't look for her now, we gotta go back to the camp.

"Sorry Nico,but I haven't. We can look for her after we get you and y/n back to the camp" I make and apologetic look to him, Annabeth and Grover doing the same.

Time skip

We're in front of the camp now, as we approach more, I see Luke, I walk hurriedly to him with the others following me.

" We have to her to the infirmary Luke, I think she's exactly like me when I got here for the first time" I say to Luke as he sees y/n in my arms "we can introduce the camp to them later"

"Yes, he's right! Please take care of my sister!" Nico says and Luke shifts his gaze to him. " Alright, let's take care of your sister, you can take a bath while we take care of her, Annabeth will show you the bathroom and get you new clothes"

" Come with me,Nico. They'll take good care of her! After they finish you can stay with her in the infirmary" after she das this I see Nico become more relaxed and look more calm. "Okay.. I'll see you later sis!" He says and kiss her forehead, even though she's not awake.

Y/n's POV

I hear some people whispering as I start to shift in bed, slowly opening my eyes and trying to get used to the light of the room I am in right now, I see Nico, Annabeth and Percy talking. Where's Bianca?  I slowly sit on the bed and I see that they stopped talking and are looking at me now. "Hi... For how long I have been like this?" Nico jumps on me and says " Oh I'm so glad you finally woke up, you slept for almost four days, it was starting to scary me"

"Where's Bianca? Why she's not here?" I asked looking around the room, I see their expressions change and I start to become worried " guys, what happened to bianca? Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Bianca's missing, I'm sorry! " Percy says, he's the guy that got us here, I think. "But don't worry, we'll bring her back safely" Annabeth complete his frase.

"Oh... Uhm, thanks? Please bring her back to us, it was always us three and we can't be without our sister!" And they respond together "don't worry,we will"

Two weeks has passed since I recovered and they went to look for Bianca, I've made some friends in camp half-blood and people here are cool with us, I thought that maybe in the start things would be strange,but it actually weren't, me and my brother are in the Hermes cabin, I didn't understand things completely in the start, but Luke was totally helpful and explained everything to us. Me and my twin always loved Greek mythology (and we share the same passion with pirates too,but nobody needs to know that) and it's crazy we're kind of part of it too now.

I get ou of cabin with Nico and I see Grover, Percy and Annabeth in the entrance of the camp " look,they're here" I say and start running to them with Nico, finally Bianca's here with us! As soon as I get to them I see that their faces are not too good,oh no... "Hey guys, and Bianca?" I look at them with hopeful eyes

They look at each other and right after they look at us "look,guys..." Percy starts " we're really sorry,but... Bianca died while we were fighting with a monster"what? It's like the ground was falling apart for me, I drop myself to my knees and start crying " what? BUT YOU PROMISE TO ME, TO US." I shout, I start feeling the ground tremble and they "flew" a little to the back, what the heck is happening? Are we doing this?  " YOU'RE LIERS!" Nico shouts too. I see some holes opening in the ground and lava starts bubbling inside them.

" Guys, we're really sorry, we swe-" they we're interrupted by the ground underneath them starting to crack, suddenly it opens  big hole and they fall inside of it, after this happens the hole closes and we are left desperate,sad and wondering how this happened. Soon Chiron comes and talks to us " Hey hey, it's alright, they'll be okay and you'll be okay too, I'm sorry that you have to go through this, but I assure you, everything will be okay" we actually got better after he said those words from us, but suddenly he looks to the tops of our heads making us look too, and there was a skull symbol above my head, I look at  Nico's head and it had the same symbol, as Chiron saw it he looked down at us "well, guess we know who's your father now,it explains why this happened. You guys will be better trained,don't worry!  I'll tell Luke to show you the hades cabin, now go pack you things" he says patting our heads and smiling at us.

We're already at our cabin, it's kind of comforting here.  I don't think we should've done that to them, they didn't deserve it, it wasn't their fault, I wish they forgive us when they come back(if they come back).

I hear a commotion in the entrance of the camp so me and Nico get closer and we see Percy injured with Annabeth and Grover carrying him, oh my god, he's like this because we sent them to god knows where? Good thing he is awake, I approache closer and say " I'm so sorry guys, it was just so much, I didn't mean to do that and now Percy's like this, I hope you guys can forgive us in the future,I'm so sorry, I swear" I say this fast and my eyes were in the verge of tears, Nico apologizes too and Percy says "it's alright guys,I'll get better soon and it's a normal thing you didn't know you could do that, it's okay! After I get treated we can talk better" as he finishes saying someone grab him and took him to the infirmary of the camp,Annabeth and Grover stay to talk to us and they forgave us too, explaining that this is a normal thing between half-bloods.

Narrator's POV

Four years have passed by and they got incredibly close, y/n and Percy were invencible together and they start going on a lot of missions together, with time passing they became best friends, and would spend  a lot of time together, their relationship was only becoming stronger with each day passing.

Y/n's POV

I'm currently training with my bow an arrow in the forest, this is my favorite place to train, I spend hours here anytime I can. The only person besides me that knows about this place is Percy. We're very close now, I like his friendship. It's like only we can understand each other. I stop traveling in my thoughts as soon as I heard steps close to me.

I turn around with my arrow read to aim as the sound becomes more audible, as the person appears I prepare to aim and I hear " IT'S ME, DON'T SHOOT" I hear and it's Percy's voice, it was him all this time, I almost shoot him "Come on drama queen, I wasn't going to shoot you" yes, I was " yes, you were! You think I don't know you enough to know what you think, LavaGirl?" "Oh come on SharkBoy, I should know you know me enough to see easily what I'm thinking about " we laugh " why you're here SharkBoy?"  Percy grins " well darling, I wanted to ask you to meet me by the forest after curfew" " and what will we be doing?" " It's a surprise LavaGirl, I won't tell you now!" " Oh come onn,please?" I pout at him " no, I won't tell you! You'll have to wait and see" "alright alright" I let out a small groan  and we head to camp.

After dinner me and my brother came to our cabin, we talked a little and hugged before going to bed., we've been doing this since Bianca died. I wait him to fall sleep and when he finally does, I get out of bed slowly and make my way to the door trying to he as quiet as possible, I get out successfully and I make my way to the forest, being careful so no one catch me.

I see Percy and quickly approach him and jump on him "SharkBoyyy, I missed you" he hugs me tighter " I missed you too princess" we're best friends,but Percy always make sure to call me cute nicknames, he even started calling me LavaGirl, after I started calling him SharkBoy, it's one of our favorite movies, since he stays alone in his cabin, we often make movie nights there. We always have the best time together, at least to me, it's the best part of my day.

Percy's POV

I smell her perfume as I hug her, she always smells so good, I don't even know how she smells good like this.  I prepared a surprise for her,I think she'll like it but I can't help getting nervous, but I can't show it because she'll know as soon as I show some emotion.

"Close your eyes" and when she closes her eyes put my hands on top of them so she can't peek "don't worry,I'll guide you" I say as I guide her to the little "beach" of the camp " And,wait a little bit.." I said dragging the 'and' " open your eyes" I say as I finish setting things up and lighting the last candle "so... Do you like it?"

She looks everywhere with her eyes shining, she smiles at me and I swear I've never seen her smile like this. She jumps in me and says "Perce, this is amazing! Oh my god, I have no words to explain how much I love this" I hug her even more tighter "I'm so glad you like it LavaGirl! Now come on, let's watch a movie and eat the things I brought"

Y/n's POV

I'm with Chiron waiting for my partner so that Chiron explain what we mission we're going to. The person's late. I hear someone running and the person opens the door panting from the run. I see Percy, of course he was late. But I'm glad the mission is with him.

"Hi, Percy! I'm glad you are finally here, sit next to Y/n so I can explain what type of mission you will do" Percy sits and Chiron starts explaining, it's a high risk mission even if we just hace to rescue artifact that's  really old and stuff. We get out of the room and start going to our own cabins to pack the things we're going to need.

After we finished packing our things, we met each other in front of the camp, we came to the city and now we're in the train station waiting for the train " I think we'll do just fine in this mission, you don't have to worry. You know I'll always take are of you,right?" Percy says to me, I don't even have to say anything for him to notice how I'm feeling "yes, and I'll always take care of you too" we smile and the train comes.

Percy's POV

We arrived on the place the mission is going on a while ago and Chiron was right, this mission is hard, like REALLY hard. Me and her have been fighting with endless monsters since we got here and these monsters are the worsts, there's a lot of them. I'm currently fighting with one monster and y/n's fighting with another one. Her monster is the bigger one, I see she's struggling and I do my best to kill the monster so  can go help her.

As I finish fighting the monster, I look at her and my world falls as I see the monster cutting her abdomen with his claws. I grab Riptide and run in full charge towards the monster, he was the one with the artifact, and jump sticking Riptide right on his back. I see him disappearing and the artifact falling on the ground, I put on my backpack and turn to her  quickly seeing that she passed out, it freaks me out so I run to her, grab her from the ground and run with her to the forest. This forest took us to the camp.

I see the entrance and start running even faster to the camp,when I get there I see too many people and one of them was Nico, I look at him in the verge of tears and he mouths to me " it's okay, she'll be alright"  I nod to him and I take her to the infirmary. Any God, don't let her die,please. I need to tell her.

Y/n's POV

Fuck,my stomach hurts as hell. What happened? Where's Percy? Is he okay? Where am I? I shift and feel a pain in my whole body. Ugh, I'm destroyed! I open my eyes and blink a few times, I'm in the infirmary? The last thing I remember doing is fighting that monster...

I sit in my bed and see Percy right beside me, sleeping in a chair, I try to stay quiet as I admire his features. He's almost drooling, wish I had a camera here so I could threaten him later.

He starts moving a little in the chair, he opens his eyes and blink a few times to adjust to the lights, I think. He looks at me and then looks around the room, then he jumps in the chair and looks at me with surprised eyes "YOU'RE AWAKE?!?!" He hugs me making me laugh and as he tightens the hug making me hiss a little from the pain " sorry, it's just.. YOU'RE AWAKEEEE!" He screams excitedly again making me laugh once again and say " Yes,I'm awake! What happened SharkBoy? Why I'm here?"

"The monster cut your abdomen, he caught you unprepared for his moves and got his claws on you. I'm sorry, I should have protected you, I broke my promise. " His voices breaks and he's on the verge of tears,my heart breaks seeing him like this "it's not you fault Perce! I should have seen him coming and you were too busy fighting with another monsters, I'm so sorry for making you fell like it was your fault" he hugs me again e give me a kiss on the forehead " you shouldn't be sorry for anything, love "

It was hard for me to get used to nicknames, at first I would get red and stutter a bit, with time I just got used to it. I stopped thinking about this as soon as I hear him saying " hey? Are you listening? " I look at him and I see that I got distracted thinking about this " yes,I'm sorry" I laugh it off "I just got distracted thinking about some things " it's alright! Tonight you need to come to my cabin so we can do a movie night, you were asleep for almost a week! I was getting more and more worried"

Me and Perce talked more about watching the movies and he said that I had to go with a formal dress, I don't understand why but I didn't mind it. He said I had to be ready by 7 p.m I put on a dark blue dress and do a quick makeup,but nothing too elaborated. The time passes fast and as I finish putting on my perfume, someone knocks on my door.

I walk fast and open the door seeing Percy in a suit holding a bouquet of roses,my favorites.I never thought he would be so handsome with a suit.

"Hi... You look amazing, darling" I hear he say and I immediately smile "thanks, you're not too bad yourself" he smiles too and give me the flowers " this is for you" "thanks, these are my favorites!" He offers me his arms and says " let's go?" I nod and we head to his cabin.

He opens the door for me and says " Ladies first" I thank him and enter, he made a whole dinner table and set candles and rose petals all over the place, this looks amazing.

"Perce, this is perfect! Nobody's ever done this for me" of course I went on dates with guys, but none of them ever did anything like this "and that shocks me everytime I remember about it. You're perfect princess and you deserve all the best things in the word" I feel tears rose up in my eyes and I hug him giving a peck on his cheeks "you're amazing, did you know that?"

We go to the table and he pushes the chair for me, gesturing for me to sit and when I sit he goes to his chair and sit too.

"They're coming to serve the food now" "They? Who?" I hear steps so I look behind me, seeing my brother and his boyfriend Will coming with the food and my favorite soda "I can't believe you did this " I laugh " you two look so cute as waiters" I couldn't lost the opportunity of joking with them " oh, shut up! you're literally on a date and you're teasing us?" My brother said and I blushed but teased him again " look at him being so defensive about his boyfriend" me and Percy laugh and thy and up laughing too, whenever we're together it's like this, amazing " alright, we should let them go now, so they can be with each other in your cabin" "okay okay, bye guys"

They go away after putting the food on the table. We eat and talk about how things were when I was in the infirmary and when we finish eating he says "so... I wanted to have dinner with you so that I could say this..." He walked around the table and stopped in front of me gesturing for my hand and when I gave him he pushed me up delicately and continued saying " You're amazing, incredibly perfect and all of you is beautiful, not only the outside, but the inside too! You proved to be so amorous and careful with others. Since I saw you for the first time I felt a connection with you and now I can't imagine my life without you. The truth is... I'm in love with you and all I can think about is you, my world almost ended in the time you were in the hospital because I thought you would die without knowing that I love you" he lefts me speechless, I don't know how to respond.

" Look, it's okay if you don't feel the sa-" I shut him up by kissing him, at first he's too surprised to do anything, but then he started kissing me back, he grabbed my hip,making me gasp. " So... do you love me too?" He whispers making both of us laugh "of course I do,you idiot " he kisses me again.

I shift my hands from his shoulders to his chin and hair, gripping it tightly. He grabs my tights and whispers "jump" between our kisses, I do as he says and he puts one hand on my butt and the other one on my hips. The kiss gets more heated as he kisses down to my neck making me become a little breathless. I feel he smile in my neck and leave a bite there and marking my neck, he lifts his head so that his mouth is on my ear "now everyone's going to know that you're mine" and chuckles " you're an idiot, did you know that?" "Yes,but I am your idiot!"

"Now come on princess, let's watch our favorite movies!"

a/n: so... did you guys like it? Bcs I don't like it that much! I plan on writing a Clarisse imagine soon,what do you think? You can send me requests on the Masterlist(s), on my profile or by messaging me <3

Likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated 🫶🏻

Kisses,

From your favorite star ⭐🤍

[ashdreams2023]

Hello! Can I please request a Loki x reader oneshot where them and all the avengers go on like a private cruise but reader gets sea sick so Loki takes care of her the whole time?? 😁 (sorry if this is a weird request lmaoo I just have bad sea sickness🥲)

More Loki comforts on the way!

Sea sick

"Are you good in there?" Loki spoke to you from behind the bathroom door.

"I want to die…" the taste of vomit was fresh in your mouth and your head was spinning whenever you looked up and was reminded that the place was actually moving.

You really thought this was a good idea for you to come, knowing damn well you get dizzy from a ride on a small boat let alone a whole cruise.

It took fifteen minutes for it to kick in, you ran to the nearest bathroom and emptied your stomach, Loki looked alarmed to say the least, you hadn’t bothered telling him or anyone about your issue.

"I’ll get some clean clothes" he said stepping away from the bathroom door, you sighed and laid your head on the toilet lid tiredly, your swimsuit long thrown away and you sat butt naked on the floor heaving like a dehydrated animal and probably looked like one to a random passerby.

After what felt like hours but was actually three minutes you pushed yourself off the bathroom for and flushed the toilet and sat at the edge of the small bathtub.

Loki walked in holding a pair of pajamas and a glass of cold water "can you stand?"

"I don’t know…"

He sighed and gave you the glass of water then pulled your hair out of your face and ran his cold hand over your forehead and the back of your neck like an ice pack.

Eventually he helped you into the room and put some clothes on you, you laid your back on the header of the bed and tried to avoid looking at the window.

"I’m guessing you’re not hungry after all of that"

"Ya think?"

He rolled his eyes then sat beside you with his cold hand pressing on the exposed skin of your collarbone and your neck.

"I had really nice swimsuits…I even got waved…" you mumbled.

Loki snorted then kissed your temple "you could’ve easily said no and we could have went to the beach instead"

"But there’s not free food and entertainment at the beach"

He raised a brow at you.

You pouted and hid your face on his chest "Fine I couldn’t enjoy either…I guess you have a point but it’s too late to back down now…and I dragged you with me, you should be drinking margaritas with the guys not babysitting my dumbass self"

"Nonsense, I can order room service, plus I have no interest listening to Clint’s drunk self babbling about arrows"

"Are you sure? I can sleep it away, I don’t want to ruin the trip for you even more"

"I am 100% ok with staying here with you, I only came because you were coming, so just relax and perhaps later I can get you put something in your belly and don’t worry about your waxing adventure…it won’t go to waste" he chuckled noticing your ears turning red at the last bit and held you until you were ready to stand on your own again.

[britestarz]

Hello Hello!! Welcome to my multifandom blog! Now here's my....

I N T R O P O S T !

(Oh god ignore this poorly made header I'm trying my best to make this pretty as possible waaaa-/silly)

First of all, My name is Hoshi! But you can also call me Brite, Britening, or Sixty Three!

I am a square with AuDHD, anxiety, and a few other things I prefer to keep personal. My age is in between 13-17.

I'm pan and bigender, my pronouns are She/Her, or He/Him!

^ By Me!

^ By @smal5504 (TYSM!!!!)

I do draw and make art here and there but not very often, as I tend to have massive artblock, and lack any motivation. (This is why I do not take requests rn!! Sorry... 💔)

My goal is to make a lot of friends here! But I kinda do have a bit of an issue with texting first... so if you want, reach out to me and say hi! (I might take a while to respond due to my anxiety)

I have a bit of bad grammar/writing so apologies if something I say doesn't make much sense, please let me know!

I'm into a truckload of fandoms that include the following: LearningBlocks, StoryBots, BatWheels, Object Shows, Portal, Dog Man, Avm/Ava, Animal Crossing, Mr Men Little Miss, TADC, Rayman, Plants Vs Zombies, JS&B, Cookie Run, Nickelodeon, and a thousand more i may have forgot to list. (Fandoms in bold are my main hyperfixations!)

Oh! Since i'm into so many fandoms, I want to make one thing clear, please don't follow me for one specific fandom. I repeat, do not follow me for one specific fandom!/nm/gentle the last thing I would want to do is upset my fans, and my hyperfixations tend to change alot! So, unless you want to see never ending fandom junk follow at your own risk/silly

Hmmm... what else can I put here?... OOH!

Tag Stuffs!!

#brite's text posts - I don't do these very often as I don't have much to really talk about so this is rare lol

#brite's nick jr interests - I only used this tag a couple of times when I brainrotted over nick jr shows in December 2024 but I plan on using it again, it's basically where I either reblog or post about my special interests that revolve around nick jr shows

#brite doesn't know what to post today - A tag I would put if I genuinely have nothing to post (I totally did not make this up while writing this/silly)

-> MY STRAWPAGE!!! <-

(Idk how I forgot to add it when I was making this omg I am so sorry 😭/silly)

DNI CRITERIA!!

And that's really all I have to say about me my friends! Thanks for stopping by and reading this, don't forget to follow me too if you want!

[yuri-is-online]

Hi Yuri! I hope you are doing well<333 I really enjoy reading your writing and I am always more fond of reading the little octatrio fish gang! I dont really know how this usually works because I never send in any asks at all nor do I see your rules list or anything but if you dont mind I would like to make a request<3

A mc who finds an out of tune and old piano and fondly remembers that they used to play piano back in their world. And perhaps Azul hears in on this and despite the piano being old and out of tune, it is rather beautiful how you play it because of how imperfect the notes are being played out. (SORRY I WAS LISTENING TO FALLEN DOWN AND THE FEELINGS WERE JUST SURGING AND THE BRAINROT WAS TOO MUCH)

You dont have to force yourself or anything! Please take care and dont feel too pressured! <3

The Most Romantic of All Arts (Azul Ashengrotto x Yuu)

Hello dear friend and I am doing quite well thank you! I'm pleased you like my writing; the octotrio is what finally cracked my resolve to check out Twisted Wonderland and put FGO on the back burner so I suppose I shouldn't beat myself up too much for writing about them so much. I am sorry I caused you stress with my lack of rules, I don't usually send requests or asks myself, so I felt really bad to have frightened you. Not too sure if this will end up being what you had in mind, it got away from me a bit.

Also when you say Fallen Down, you do mean the Undertale soundtrack piece right? It's a soothing song I listened to it while I was plotting this to try and get into a similar headspace.

notes: they/them used for Yuu, header taken from the painting Spirit by George Roux (1885) which I found on this wordpres blog article I took the title from, it's a neat painting, Azul learning to find beauty and love in imperfections is important to me ok? Other works can be found on my masterlist here.

Sometimes you wonder if Ramshakle is sentient. The old building has more rooms than you know what to do with, and lovely as the ghosts are they don't fully remember what they were used for, if they remembered in the first place. But still there was something about those rooms that seemed to love you; he guest room almost built itself up around you, the kitchen had only needed some basic repairs before it was ready to help play host again, and no matter where a fire place was found it was always eager to burst to life and warm you and Grim.

It does not have the same love for Azul, he'd complained as much when you talked about just what it was he wanted with the building after the events of his overblot had cooled between you.

"It's got a graveyard in front of it, though?" That really had been the crux of your whole argument. It was hard to be annoyed with his laugh when it sounded so nice, the genuine amusement a refreshing difference to his previous performitive indifference.

"Yes," he muses, sipping at his real before he continues, "I'm not bothered by that much, ghosts and grave ships aren't uncommon sights under the sea, but I always forget how unusual humans think they are."

"There's a lot of superstitions about places where people are buried." You mean it as an explanation, but it brings an odd look to Azul's face, like there's an emotion bubbling beneath his surface he doesn't want to acknowledge but is too strong to suppress. It settles over you both, as you try to focus on drinking your tea while your host seems content to let his grow cold.

"Well, I suppose it's a good thing that ruin isn't really sentient." He sounds almost bitter, disappointed in how long he has let his drink cool you decide as he reaches for the pot and warms it with some fresh tea. "Otherwise, I'd accuse it of trying to keep you."

It's a silly thought, but the sight of this latest discovery really does have you wondering. You are supposed to be in that wonderfully accommodating kitchen making snacks for when Azul decides to "coincidentally drop by" later this evening to "go over the Lounge's expenses" in your guest room. On a Tuesday. When it was almost guaranteed business would be slow enough to keep anyone from wondering too hard about where he'd gone or the twins from being too upset about running things. But instead of "just wanting to try" a new recipe, you are here, tucked in a room just a bit further down the hall from the guest room watching Grim give his best impression of Ace after completing a magic trick. Because stars know he has never seen any other magicians.

"TA-DA!" He puts both of his paws out to really sell the piano at the window. "See, I told you I had a great surprise!"

"I'm sorry for not believing you." You say and try not to laugh with just how much more proud that seems to make him. "But where did you find this? Or how I guess, unless you moved it?"

"Nah." He shakes his head before remembering he's supposed to be the "great" Grim. "I mean I could have! But I'm just so cool I managed to find a piano here already, so all I had to do was clean it up instead! You're welcome henchuman." You scratch just behind his ears and politely ignore his purrs as you examine the piano and its bench. They're old, likely just as ancient as everything else in the dormitory and likely extremely, achingly out of tune. But the mere sight of it makes your fingers itch, and Grim barely has to whine "Well ain't you gonna play somethin'?" Before you're at the bench, experimentally pressing the keys to try and sound out something.

Twinkle twinkle little star, how I wonder what you are-

You hum it rather than sing, irrationally worried Grim will somehow figure out it's a lullaby and complain that you're babying him instead of cutely dancing along with the music like it's one of the cassettes Deuce let you borrow. He cheers for another, and you oblige, letting your muscle memory carry you as far as it can as you try searching your brain for just what it was you wanted most to hear from yourself after all this time being unable to play.

And missing the click of a heavy door down the hall in the effort.

Azul hears nothing at first, and though it does disappoint, it does not bother him. He's had a long day, one about to be made longer still by the grey zone already draping itself around his thoughts as he shrugs his blazer off to his shoulders while en route to the Ramshackle guest room. He pauses, for what he tells himself is only going to be second, at the kitchen door and is left unrewarded for his detour.

You aren't there: and that does bother him somewhat, even if it should not if his pretext is to be believed. These visits were too commonplace to be random, but maybe you'd made plans, deciding not to look past his excuses for the evening. Maybe you were asleep, tired of the day or just plain tired of him. But there is a kettle sat on it's base, mercifully not on just yet, but two mugs and the pour over cone set next to as if it was expecting company. The nerves remain knotted in his stomach, though the cause shifts towards something more welcome.

So you do have a mug purposefully set aside and designated just for him, and is that a little recpie card with notes on coffee taped to that tin? These things should worry him, the picture he snaps and immediately hides in a folder should be for a purpose. But it's separate from those ones, labeled something inane and barely full with how careful he is to have his longing remain unseen. He wonders, briefly if it would be an intrusion to make the drinks himself. If it would reveal to much to show outright he knows the way you take yours instead of just saying it in time with your order, but knows that would not be the exact issue here. He is a guest, and guests limit themselves to the halls and that room he forces himself, with haste that would be noticeable if you were there to see it, back down the hall and back towards the guest room. Azul has work to do, he can content himself with the warmth the mental image the cups on the counter produces until something forces him to pause at a door once more. The piano is old, droning out a tune that is unpolished and rusty from the player's lack of practice but filled with such a specific sort of joy it has him actually running towards it.

You sit at the bench, a serious look of determination on your face so unlike the usual Yuu it can't help but be cute. Grim sleeps contentedly on your lap as you continue searching for the threads of melody still trapped inside your head from years of only occasionally reluctant practice. It's an unfamiliar tune in composition, but not in feel. There's words to this song, maybe not in the form of lyrics, but there all the same for him to stumble even closer to as he comes to a halting stop just behind you and the music ends in a surprised crash as you whip your head around to see him.

"Azul!"

"Very sorry to interrupt." He holds up both hands in surrender, composure only just maintained as you check to see Grim still asleep and laugh nervously. "I didn't know you could play."

"Can't really." You say somewhat bitterly and more confidence comes to Azul as a slight plan froms in his mind. "I'm really out of practice ugh. I know it shouldn't annoy me! But with how everything's been since I showed up, it's just not been on my mi- Oh hello?"

Azul fully removes his jacket and sets it on a side table close to where he had been satanding, moving to sit on the bench next to you. He has enough mercy not to loosen his tie or do anything else scandalous, but the close examination he gives to the keys could have fooled you. "Pity it's so out of tune, this is a nice piano."

"I know right! I'm really happy Grim found it." You resist the urge to poke his cheeks some and Azul lightly, trying not to too openly relish in your surprise reaches one arm around your back to place his hands into a similar position as you had been earlier, tucking you close to his side.

"May I?" He's smug. Too smug it's robbing you of sanity.

"What's it going to cost?" You try too hard not to sound like you're flailing as you look to see your question hasn't even phased him at all.

"Oh normally I wouldn't dream of charging for a performance," he clearly lies "but it's been such a long day I wouldn't say no to a cup of coffee." And he's off, music only marred by the off key of the piano in a clearly purposeful display of talent meant to sear itself into your mind enough that you don't think about his request too long. You and he are from two different worlds, but he knows that music has a way of gapping that if the stories of the mermaid princess told him anything at all. So when he purposefully slows the song at its end, he knows you know, that tricky smile he swore once he'd always hate kicking his heartbeat up again as you lean fully against his shoulder.

"Beautiful." You say, not bothering to give the compliment direction as he can't help but agree. "We should play together next time."

"I-" You pick yourself up and what he wants to say slows when you pick up his jacket for him and hold out a hand. Later, he all to easily decides. Later, without Grim and with specific time set purposefully aside so you know just how much it matters. "I would like that. You'll have to show me the songs that you can remember from your world." And he takes your hand just to soothe some of the ache, trying and failing not to show just how happy he is when you keep it.

[humbledragon669]

S2E2 - The Clue Write Up P1 - Land of Uz (2500 BC) and London (Present Day) up to the credits

Ooh it’s been a while since got to use an in-screen caption as one of the headers and I am delighted to be able to do it again! I may well just use the same two headers as we switch between the two time periods in this episode, just for simplicity. Sue me.

There’s a tiny detail that’s been applied to this opening shot that I absolutely love – the video here has had an of effect applied to it to give it a vintage film feel. Sorry, that’s as close as I come to describing it with any sort of eloquence – I’m referring to the “fake” black marks and scratches that appear on the image briefly (you can see a couple on the header above). It doesn’t last long (only until Crawley finishes his first line), but I think this subtle little effect sets us very firmly in a cinematic (cinematographic?) context. I also feel like the colouring of the image has been altered for the same purpose – it puts me in mind of one of those historical films from the 50s and 60s, like Ben Hur and Spartacus (which I suspect is probably the whole point).

There’s something else interesting about Crawley’s appearance in this scene – his sunglasses. Cast your mind back to episode 3 in the first season (Hard Times), in which we saw him appearing without sunglasses all the way up to (and including) 33AD. I did comment on the appearance of the sunglasses in the 42AD scene in the write up for it:

I’m not sure I actually find this sudden appearance of sunglasses some 2500 years earlier all that interesting. There’s a part of me that feels that they have probably been included here because we, as an audience, have come to expect Crawley/Crowley’s costume to include a pair of stylised sunglasses by this point. I’d actually be strangely satisfied with that if it was the case – I feel like the reason behind his choosing to wear them could be so much more interesting if this was simply a “continuity error”.

Just wanted to include this because I am thrilled Aziraphale finally gets a really bad-ass entrance. How many times have we seen Crowley sauntering his way into a scene, looking like the coolest thing on Earth (and knowing it)? So glad the angel gets a turn at that here. That said. Why exactly is it that Aziraphale has happened to show up at this place and time? As we will come to find out shortly, Crawley is actually acting with Heaven’s authority so I don’t think the angel would have been sent there. It would present an interesting parallel to Crowley’s supposed knack of knowing when the angel is in trouble, but also resurfaces the suggestion about them being aware of the other’s whereabouts more often than not. I have to say, based on the conversation between them here, that seems unlikely – this exchange feels nothing but businesslike to me, cold even. Aziraphale even goes so far as to apologise (unapologetically) for having to do his job. We do learn that it has been about 500 years since they’ve seen each other, which is a nice little piece of backstory to have. I also consider it interesting to see Crowley providing a prompt to Aziraphale on how to complete his task, which provides a loose mirror parallel to what we saw Before the Beginning, that time with Aziraphale prompting his newfound friend that the incantations (for want of a better word) were not complete.

Side note: don’t you just love those little goats for staying exactly where they’ve been put? Pretty sure most animals would have scarpered extremely quickly when a huge flaming ball appeared above them, never mind having another being literally appearing from thin air in a really spiky portal of light. They must be some very calm goats.

Given the light show that Aziraphale has brought with him to make an imposing entrance on a demon, I’m pretty impressed with the restraint Crawley shows when he responds here – I mean he’s not exactly known for his patience is he? I also wonder if Aziraphale’s comment about jokes is meant to be a throwback to Hastur’s vehemence that he doesn’t like them, but the line is so throw-away that I can’t see what relevance it would add at this point. What I do find interesting is that, now we’re no longer in the “present day” of this season, we see Aziraphale struggling with his preconceived notions of right/good and wrong/evil. It’s something we saw quite a lot of in the first season, in both historical and “present” timelines. In the second season though, what with Aziraphale no longer working for Heaven, we tend to see it a lot less. We saw it in the first episode in the Before the Beginning segment, and we’ll see it again in the coming episodes, but predominantly in the historical scenes. There’s something about the fact that Aziraphale appears less conflicted about morality once he has been removed from the morality-defining authority, become more connected to humanity, and is found to be exercising his free will that I find deeply profound. No wonder the poor guy took 6000 years to realise that being Good isn’t just about following orders, especially when you consider that instruction is tied to his very existence. That whole thing is a big concept, and I struggled to put it into any words that made sense, so I hope I’ve at least been kind of clear. Basically, what I wanted to say was that I love that the historical scenes are being used as a way to remind us of the character development that Aziraphale has gone through over the millennia – they show us where he came from. And it’s not just the angel that gets this treatment:

We haven’t seen this version of Crawley/Crowley for quite a while, have we? The one that takes such delight in his mischief. And in case you missed it, we really should have known what he was up to – you can see two birds taking flight in the background behind his head, with an accompanying “caw” to draw attention to their presence.

I’m including that gif for no other reason that I find it Muriel’s impersonation of a goose adorable. I do wonder what exactly would have been deemed important though, if Job’s farm, camels, goat, oxen, children, and geese are all disposable. I’m not going to go into the underlying subtext of the bet that has been made between God and Satan here – the story itself is little changed from its original biblical source so I feel like it’s a bit out of scope for an episode write up. What is interesting to see is that the item on the list that Aziraphale balks at is the same as the one that Crowley has previously demonstrated (on more than one occasion) is his “line in the sand” for unacceptable acts – killing children. This will also be the first time, chronologically, that we see Aziraphale take his doubts to other angelic beings (some of whom are his superiors). I’m assuming his way of doing things is a little more diplomatic than Crowley’s was when he was in his angelic state, even if it is just as (un)fruitful.

This attitude towards Sitis and Job keeping their existing children rather than having them replaced with new ones says a lot about the Heavenly standard when it comes to understanding humanity and its eccentricities; his reasoning here being that it shouldn’t matter if Job’s existing children are murdered senselessly, as long as they’re replaced with an equal (or greater) number of different children. There is no appreciation of the complexities behind human relationships, desires, or emotions. I feel like it makes the fact that both Gabriel and Michael claim to understand the difference between the subtle technical differences between “killing someone” and “not stopping someone from killing someone” pretty ironic, particularly when they are taking advantage of this technicality to maintain their stance of being the good guys. And all said in such a convincing (and convinced) tone. Gabriel’s stance really only makes sense when you take it out of humanity’s context, which I think is why it’s just not something Aziraphale would ever be comfortable with.

Alright, we’ve jumped back into the present day to find Aziraphale apparently deep in thought about something. My take on it, and I think it’s a fairly common one, is that the whole Job sequence up to this point is a flashback as seen through Aziraphale’s eyes. (Side note: a cash register ringing noise is an interesting sound effect to employ to highlight the placards here, seeing as we all know the angel never willingly sells a book) There are a couple of things I picked up on during this delightful little scene, the first of which is this line:

AZIRAPHALE: I just didn’t see you coming.

I don’t think it would be a huge leap of faith to say that this line is probably not meant to be limited to this scene, but to Gabriel’s appearance on the whole. I don’t think it’s a huge revelation, I just love that it’s dropped in there so casually. And just as a quick note, I had previously wondered where Gabriel had been that he was able to sneak up on Aziraphale so easily, but it turns out that he would have been in plain sight as he approached the desk:

I love the way Aziraphale is bothered that somebody is bringing order to his chaos. It’s my belief that those books are likely arranged in such a way that only he knows how to find anything. After all, customers can’t buy books if they can’t find them, can they? The idea that somebody might actually be bringing some order to that must be distressing. It’s alright though, seeing as nobody will ever find anything they’re looking for using Gabriel’s sorting system anyway.

We also have the first reference to the Buddy Holly song “Everyday” in this scene. I’m really pleased that it was included in the second season – apparently it was something Terry was really keen to use as a device in the first season. The script book even includes stage directions that the soundtrack for most of the end credits should be stylised versions of the song. The story goes that when David Arnold presented his version of the theme tune for the first season, it was deemed to be so appropriate that the “Everyday” theme was dropped. I do absolutely love the theme tune we got. I also love that “Everyday” was brought back in for the second season. Both things can be true 😊

Last point of interest for this scene. The book that Jim reads from is “A Tale of Two Cities”. I will confess I haven’t read it, and used Wikipedia to summarise the plot, which as I understand it revolves around a central character who is compelled to disassociate himself from the wrongdoings of his family. There’s a drunken man that testifies on behalf of the main character and helps to get him acquitted of a crime. There’s a trip to Paris in 1792 that sees the main character imprisoned in the Bastille and the same man that helped acquit the main character travels to Paris in 1793 in an attempt to rescue him. There’s also a character called Gabelle, whose request for assistance in a prison escape leads to the capture of the main character.

It’s vague I’ll grant you, and I am sure I have missed a lot of the finer plot points. With that said, I don’t think I’d be alone in feeling like there are more than a few similarities to the 1793 Paris scene from Hard Times. Paris, the year, a prison rescue, and that name that’s awfully similar to Gabriel… It makes me wonder if this might be a Clue as to Aziraphale’s true purpose in Paris, and I suspect there might be a nice little project here to look at parallels between the novel and the 1793 storyline, but that would probably involve reading the original novel. In case you had missed it, time is not something I have a lot of right now, and classics bore the living shit out of me so it’s not something I can commit to so if anybody wants to take up that mantel, please feel free.

Don’t you just love that this is the first time we actually see Crowley sleeping in the show at all? There was a scene that didn’t make it to the final cut in the first season that saw him sleeping (in a bed/against a wall/on the ceiling), and one from just after he got out of bed. There is also explicit mention of his love of sleep in the book and we as a fandom have taken that cannon well and truly to heart. Yet this is the first confirmation we have in the show that he does in fact sleep. It’s a nice little touch for us to have – there really is no denying that this demon sleeps from this point on.

I made a note of Michael referring to Aziraphale as a “former angel” at the end of the first episode, and commented on how this feels like an inaccuracy. Interestingly Crowley makes an identical inaccuracy here in referring to himself as a “former demon”. To recap:

I feel the same way about Crowley and his status. I also note that Shax doesn’t correct his use of the past tense, but perhaps that’s because she’s confused at his use of sarcasm. What’s also of note is that she appears not to have any knowledge that Beelzebub and Crowley have already discussed the matter of Gabriel, likely because the former is trying to keep that under wraps. It makes me wonder if Crowley might have noticed that discrepancy had the discussion not turned to talk about the miracle that was performed in the bookshop the night before. And now we can briefly turn to the controversy that I raised from the last episode about whether Crowley actually had anything to do with said miracle:

SHAX: A miracle of enormous power happened last night. The kind of miracle only the mightiest of archangels could have performed.

So from her perspective, it looks like she believes Gabriel (as Supreme Archangel) performed the miracle himself. My theory about Crowley not playing his part in it gets pretty shaky at this point, because Aziraphale supposedly wouldn’t have been able to perform a miracle of that strength on his own. There is a “but” here. Or rather, an “unless”. What if Gabriel contributed to the miracle that was performed, but unknowingly? Possibly even unwillingly? His power, either alone or being added to that of another, might explain the colouration of the plume we see originating from the bookshop on the globe at the end of the episode. Yeah, that’s right, I’m not dropping this theory yet! It’s such a shame we don’t see any other example of plumes, because that would really either lend weight to it or completely discredit it. Shax clearly doesn’t think much of Crowley’s claim to the miracle regardless – she doesn’t even respond to him when he offers the possibility that it was him that did it.

It's also notable that Crowley makes no protestations about Shax’s label of “friend” when referring to Aziraphale. Unfortunately, we don’t get to see his face when she says it, but we do see that it’s unchanged when the close up returns to him. I’m not saying this is a denial of his true feelings, merely pointing out that this would have been hotly refuted prior to the body switch incident. Whether Crowley doesn’t care that Hell knows about his “friendship” or just can’t be bothered to argue isn’t clear at this point. What is clear, is that Shax’s threats are convincing enough that the plants are frightened – you can see (and hear) them shaking in the background:

I’m sure Crowley probably starts the car in a pass-agg response to his being threatened, but there’s a big part of me that believes he really does it because Shax has had the audacity to frighten his beloved plants. I don’t have any evidence to suggest that’s the case, but I won’t be swayed on that regardless. As a final point of note: this will be the second time Crowley has been offered the “opportunity” to help Hell and refused. He clearly has no interest in helping them – his bridges are well and truly burned as far as he’s concerned.

And with that, we’ve arrived at the credits, which feels like an excellent place to wrap this part up. I don’t think this instalment has been quite as controversial as the last one but as ever: questions, comments, discussion, always welcome. See you for the next one! 😊

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

Ooo can I please request a soft dark Nick Fowler & soft dark Lloyd Hansen x fem!shy reader where Y/n is Six’s younger sister and she grew up in foster care when he was in jail, and her foster sister she was close to was Mace. Nick takes Y/n as a hostage to get Mace to give him the drive (she’d be terrified). He locks her in her room and but then she’s taken AGAIN but from Nick’s home when Lloyd Hansen breaks in and kicks the bedroom door down in and literally wraps his arms around her and drags her out of Nick’s home (so he took the hostage, hostage😵‍💫 Poor girl is even more terrified) Poor woman is like, “Wait I was already taken?? This is happening AGAIN??” Lloyd takes her hostage because he wants Six to give him HIS drive and takes her to his mansion. Lmao then Nick takes his private plane straight to where Lloyd lives and tries to take her back, Y/n is just like “😵‍💫” Imagine she’s just so done and is like “Can you BOYS please make up your mind on whose hostage I am???” And when they both immediately stop bickering and whip their heads over to Y/n, she just squeaks out a shy “I’m sorry” for her outburst 😂 They’d definitely want the drives but still keep Y/n after that. Like they’d come to the conclusion that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to share her and to work together. They now have a common interest, Y/n and the drives! They spoil her so much and get her to feel comfortable around them and she starts to feel really safe and start falling in love with them both. They could tell she was getting less jumpy around them. When Mace and Six come to save her, they find the three of them all snuggled together on the couch, all lovey dovey.

Common Interest » Nick Fowler and Lloyd Hansen

Pairings: Soft Dark!Nick Fowler x Shy!Female Reader x Soft Dark!Lloyd Hansen with Mace and Six

Summary: You get taken hostage by Nick, but you also get taken hostage by Lloyd. That means that have a common interest… you

Warnings: Soft Dark, Angst (Nick and Lloyd), Fluff, language, kidnapping (twice), kissing, pet names

A/N: Thank you for this beautiful request @kpopgirlbtssvt 🩵

Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.

Header made by @buckyys-babydoll / divider made by me

GIFS ARE NOT MINE! Gif credits go to the creators.

Nick had his eyes on you all day. So did Lloyd. They were waiting for the perfect time to get their hands on you. That’s when the auction came into play. Lloyd and Nick didn’t go to the auction together. They didn’t even know each other was going to be there. They were only there for two things… you and the drive.

Nick watched as you were talking to Mace. You know Mace through your foster sister. You’re there to help Mace with something. She told you what you’re supposed to do for your part of the plan, but you still weren’t sure about it. When it came time for you to execute your part of the plan, it went perfectly. After that, you went to the bathroom to have a moment to yourself. You’ll admit that you were nervous and scared about your part of the plan, but now that your part is done, you can try to relax and enjoy the rest of the night. A moment later, you walked out of the bathroom, only for someone to grab your arm and lead you out of the building.

“Stay calm and do as you’re told.” Nick whispers in your ear.

Lloyd watches closely as Nick led you to a black SUV. You got in the backseat and so did Nick.

“Follow that car.” Lloyd says to his driver.

His driver nodded and followed the car you and Nick are in.

“Where- Where are you taking me?” You asked in a shaky voice.

“You’ll find out in a little bit, Y/N.” Nick says.

You frowned. How does this man know your name?

“How- How do you know my name?” You asked.

“I did my research on you. You’re friends with Mace.” He says.

“Actually, Mace is my foster sister’s friend. Her and I barely know each other.” You politely corrected him.

“Close enough.” He says.

Nick still didn’t tell you where he was taking you. You saw a nice house when you guys came to a stop. You just didn’t know it was Nick’s house in the moment.

“Who’s house is this?” You asked as you got out of the car.

“Mine.” Nick answers.

Nick held onto your arm so you didn’t try to escape as he lead you inside of his house. He took you upstairs to an empty bedroom that had a nicely made bed in it. Little did you know that Nick is going to keep you locked in that bedroom.

“My name is Nick Fowler and the reason why I brought you here is because you have something that I want.” He says.

You frowned in confusion. What do you have that he wants?

“Where’s the drive?” Nick asks softly.

“What drive?” You asked in total confusion.

“You know what I’m talking about, sweetheart.” He says.

“No- No I don’t.” You answered.

“Yes you do. Mace told you about it.” He says.

“She told me about it, but- but she didn’t tell me where it is.” You tell him honestly.

Nick hums to himself.

“I have some calls to make and business to take care of.” Nick says, taking his phone out of his pocket.

Nick walked out of the bedroom, closing and locking the door behind him. Your eyes went wide when you realized that he locked the door from the other side. You walked over to the door and started yanking on the doorknob.

“Why are you doing this?!” You asked loudly.

You were expecting Nick to answer you, but he didn’t. You don’t even know if he’s still in the house. You might as well relax if you’re going to be here a while. You sighed and walked over to the bed and sat down. You looked over at the nightstand and seen a few books. You grabbed one and started reading it.

———

A few hours go by and Nick still has you locked in the bedroom. He hasn’t came back either. You already finished reading one book and now you’re on the second one. You jumped when you heard the doorknob jiggling. You put the book down on the nightstand and stared at the door. Then it opened. You were expecting Nick to walk in the room, but it wasn’t him. It was someone else.

“Hello, sunshine.” Lloyd grins. “I’m Lloyd Hansen of Hansen Government Services. You’re Y/N, right?” He says.

“Umm- yes?” You answered like a question.

“Great.” He says.

Lloyd walked over to you and grabbed onto your arm, pulling you up from the bed and lead you out of the bedroom. He led you outside to a black SUV. A different SUV from Nick’s.

“Wait, I was already taken? This is happening again?” You asked.

“Yep.” Lloyd replies.

You were scared, but more confused. Why are you being taken hostage by two different men in the same night?

“What- What about Nick?” You curiously asked.

“I couldn’t care less about Fowler.” Lloyd says.

“If you don’t care about him, why you taking me hostage?” You asked curiously.

“You have information I want.” He says.

Now you’re even more confused. What kind of information does this man want? You would ask what kind of information he’s looking for, but it would just confuse you even more than you already are.

“Your older brother is Court Gentry, right?” Lloyd asks.

“I-I don’t see what my brother has to do with you taking me hostage.” You say.

“He has something I want.” He says.

“I wouldn’t know what that would be.” You answered honestly. “I haven’t- I haven’t seen my brother in years. I was put in the foster care system after he went to jail.” You say.

“That’s where you’re wrong, pumpkin.” He says.

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion.

“Your brother isn’t in jail as of right now.” Lloyd tells you.

“Wh-What? How?” You asked, your eyes going wide.

“That’s not important right now. What is important is…” He leans forward, putting his elbows on his knees. “Where’s the drive?” He asks.

Here we go again with the stupid drive.

“I-I already told Nick that Mace never told me about a drive.” You say.

“I don’t know who Mace is. I don’t know what drive Fowler is looking for.” Lloyd says.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You say, which is true.

When the car stopped in front of Lloyd’s mansion, Lloyd lead you inside. You two were met by Nick as soon as Lloyd opened the door.

“I was wondering where you went, sweetheart.” Nick says, looking at you.

You stayed quiet, not sure what to say.

“You’re trespassing, Fowler.” Lloyd says.

“I can say the same thing about you, Hansen.” Nick says.

“She has information I want.” Lloyd says.

“Same here.” Nick says.

“Umm- for the record, I don’t know what either of you are talking about.” You chimed in.

“Be a good girl and sit down on the stairs.” Lloyd says.

You walked over to the stairs and sat down, looking at Nick and Lloyd. You watched and listened as they began to bicker. It’s safe to say that Nick and Lloyd don’t like each other. To be honest, you were done with them bickering and being taken twice in one night.

“Can you BOYS please make up your mind on who’s hostage I am?” You blurted out.

Nick and Lloyd stopped bickering long enough to look over at you.

“I’m sorry.” You apologized in a shy mumble.

Nick and Lloyd talked it out. They both have two common interests… you and the drives. Both of them came to a conclusion of keeping you for themselves.

———

After coming to the conclusion of keep you for themselves. Besides the drives, you’re the only other thing Nick and Lloyd have in common. It’s been a few dates since they decided to keep you for themselves. They’ve been spoiling you with clothes, jewelry, etc. They’ve also been keeping you safe and comfortable.

Little do the three of you know that Mace and Six teamed up to save you. Even though, they barely know each other, they also have something in common and that’s you. Mace and Six found a way inside of Lloyd’s mansion without getting caught. They entered his mansion cautiously, holding their guns in front of them. They were hit with so much confusion when they walked in the living room to see you cuddled up in between Nick and Lloyd.

“What the hell is going on here?” Six asks.

You looked up to see your brother. You smiled and ran over to him and gave him a hug. Six hugs you back.

“I missed you.” You say.

“I missed you too.” Six says. “Are you ok? Did they hurt you?” He whispers.

You opened your mouth to answer him, but Lloyd answered for you.

“She’s fine.” Lloyd says.

“We’d like to hear that from her.” Mace says.

“I’m fine. They didn’t hurt me.” You tell them.

“You know you can tell us.” Mace says lowly.

“She said she’s fine.” Nick says.

“My sister can speak for herself, man.” Six says.

“It’s ok, Court.” You say softly.

Meanwhile, Nick was having a stare off with Mace and Lloyd was having a stare off with Six.

“Where’s the drive?” Nick asks Mace.

“Give us Y/N and I’ll give you the drive.” Mace negotiates.

“You should know that negotiations are off the table.” Lloyd says.

You watched as Mace and Six tried to negotiate with Nick and Lloyd, but nothing was working. You knew this was going to end badly if you didn’t try to stop the four of them.

“Just give them the drives!” You blurted out.

The four of them stopped arguing and looked at you.

“You guys both know they’re not going to stop if you guys don’t give them what they want. Give them the drives and leave me here.” You say.

“We’re not leaving you here with them, Y/N.” Mace says.

“They can have the drives, but you’re coming home with me.” Six says.

“She’s not going anywhere.” Nick says.

“Guys, please.” You pleaded, your eyes tearing up.

Normally, Mace and Six don’t give up this easily. They just want you to be happy. That’s all they care about.

“Ok. Fine.” Six says.

Six pulled the drive out of his pocket and gave it to Lloyd. Mace didn’t give Nick the drive he wants. She just stared him down again.

“Give Fowler the drive, Mace.” Six says.

“You can’t be serious, Six.” Mace says.

“Unfortunately, I am. If being with them makes my little sister happy, we have to do this.” He says.

“Fine.” She mumbles.

Mace got the drive out of her pocket and gave it to Nick.

“Are you sure this is what you want, Y/N?” Mace asks softly.

“Yes.” You answered softly.

Mace walked over to you and gave you a hug. So did Six.

“Just know, me and Mace are one call away, ok?” Six says softly.

“Ok.” You whispered.

“I love you, sis.” He says.

“I love you too, Court.” You say.

Six approaches Nick and Lloyd.

“If either of you do anything to hurt my little sister, I won’t hesitate to beat your asses.” Six says.

“We’re not going to hurt her, Six.” Lloyd says.

“We’re not that cruel.” Nick says.

“I just want to make sure we’re all on the same page.” Six says.

Mace and Six gave you one last look before leaving. You let out a shaky breath. Nick and Lloyd walked up beside you and wrapped their arms around your waist.

“You’ll be fine here with us.” Lloyd says.

“I know.” You sighed.

“Just trust us.” Nick says.

“Ok.” You whispered. “I love you guys.” You say, standing on your tippy toes to kiss their lips.

“We love you too.” They say softly in union.

-Bucky’s Doll

[skopostheorie]

Call me Q

Icon by my BELOATHED mutual @poppet-seed !

header by pinecone-partyhorse!

He/him and ze/hir, male, straight

22

White + black, Muslim

Richmond Tigers, Tokyo Yakult Swallows

I'm a translator and general LOTE maniac. It's my special interest. Due to the nature of Tumblr there is no "fandom" for the concept of language learning (studyblr notwithstanding) so most of my posts are about Mario and Luigi RPGs or sports.

I like everything and everyone but Bowuigi fans get autoblocked, no ifs or buts. I'm sorry, I'm sure you're very nice but it's a hard no.

Known as languages guy, Astérix guy, Count von Count guy, and guy from Melbourne. Sorry I know I change my icon a lot.

I currently major in Chinese and Japanese, and minor in Indonesian. Not the only languages I do at uni or work in but you'll figure those out by yourself from my posting about them

I have 99+ DMs and approx 1k asks, and my notes are a bit chaotic as well, so I miss a lot of stuff and if I fail to respond to you I am so sorry

Send fic requests at any time, I really really love it when people do

I am very very very strongly against incest ships, pedophilic ships, RPF, romanticisation of sexual violence etc. I request that anybody who ships such things or tolerates them block me. This isn't a "you cannot depict bad things" situation, of course - please don't be deliberately obtuse about that. You know what I mean and I know you know what I mean.

X

Antasma gif below by 華氏38度

[clubdionysus]

[BAD DECISION #38] Delaying the Inevitable

warnings: a test is taken! bronys are mentioned! lots going on!

a/n: ahhhh just one tonight!! sorry!! i forgot to schedule them earlier!! lucky 4 u I have time tomorrow to schedule a decent chunk! gawd looking at this picture makes me miss him so much :( a lot of the bd header pictures are taken from lives that happened around the time they were written, and its so cute seeing the time pass like that :(

wc: 4.5K

bd total wc: 540k (ongoing)

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

Naver maps says it's a thirty-five-minute walk to your place from Jeongguk's gym.

When a text comes through to his phone from yours with the simple words 'I'm ready," he makes it in twenty.

Skin sticky with sweat, clothes a little damp, glasses on, he doesn't care for appearances as he shows up at your door - and you're reminded of exactly how you got yourself into this mess, again .

It's not your fault he walks around looking like he does.

If anything, he should be more considerate of you, and your feelings, and that fact that seeing him all sweaty will only ever serve to remind you of what it's like to have sex with him.

You fear you'll go insane if you have to keep looking at him like this.

And so you tell him as such.

"Go home, get a shower, come back."

"What?" he laughs, lip ring doing the thing ever so casually as he shakes his head. "I've only just-"

Raising your finger to his lips, you hush him. Keep your face straight.

"Jeongguk, I am but merely a woman. I cannot be held liable for my body, nor the way it's telling me I have to shag you immediately. It will be a disaster if you stay."

Rolling his eyes, he guides you back into your apartment and closes the door behind himself.

"Merely a woman?" He laughs. "You sound like a robot, not a woman."

"I'm being formal!" You tell him. "It's the only way to stop myself from getting to my knees."

"What has gotten into you?!" he asks with total bewilderment. Plonks himself down on your sofa. "I thought the whole reason you called me over was to-" And then he realises what you're doing. Puts a stop to it immediately. "No. Absolutely not. You cannot use sex to get out of taking that damn test."

You roll your eyes with an arrogant smirk, of which you know will drive him insane. "Was worth a try."

"Fuck you," he grins. "I'm not that easy."

The way his lips part when you stand in front of him and tie your hair up? Looks down, as if he thinks that's where you'll go?

"Yeah," you tease, ruffling his hair, before sinking into the sofa next to him. "Sure. Not easy."

"I'm not!" He protests, but you just tease him even more.

"Yeah, yeah," you nod. "Whatever you say, baby."

"Alright, attitude," Jeongguk smirks, enjoying the flirt far more than he knows he should. Knows that he's just using it to distract himself from the box on your coffee table. Knows that the sooner it's done and out of the way, the sooner he can forget about it - or not. "Anyways, don't you have a stick to piss onto?"

"Watersports?" You hum, feigning confusion. "I didn't think that was on the sticky notes?"

Jeongguk just looks at you with a raised brow, as if to question whether or not you're actually entertaining the idea of it - and then he takes offence.

"My dick is not a stick. Take that back."

"Stick boy," you reply, decidedly never taking it back.

And then he has a smug little grin on his face as he reaches down for the box and tosses it to your lap. "I have you on camera saying I've got the hugest cock in the world."

"That's not what I said."

"It is," he assures you, blatantly embellishing what you actually said. "You said it's the hugest cock in the world, and the nicest."

He's lying - but he looks so cute, grin all big and full of stars, that you want him to carry on.

"I think you have hearing problems."

"Nope," he shakes his head. "You said, word for word, ' Ohhh, Jeongguk, your cock is the nicest and hugest cock in the whole entire world, way bigger than Jimin's, and you're also actually really cool' ."

"Now, I know that is a lie," you assure him, as if the entire thing hasn't been fabricated. "You're so lame."

"Oh yeah?" He grins.

"The lamest."

"Well if I'm that lame, go take that fuckin' test B," he nods at the box that's sitting in your lap. "Make sure you don't have my lame-ass kids in your tummy."

"That's not where kids live in the body," you tell him, as if he doesn't know.

He could probably tell you a thing or two about the female anatomy, now. Has read every article in the WebMD Pregnancy Centre. Has shit like 'folic acid' and 'preeclampsia' floating around in his vernacular.

"Fingers crossed they don't currently live in your body at all," he reminds you of your absolute disdain for mothering children. You've never suggested any indication of wanting to keep a kid should you be pregnant right now. Have always said how they're a future goal for you - not a present-day one - and so he wants you to know that he's on board with whatever choice you make, should the test be positive.

Narrowing your eyes, you're oddly comforted by this sentence. After days upon days spent fretting over Jeongguk's wants, it is nice to know his default seems to be the same as yours. You aren't ready for a kid. In your heart of hearts, you know this.

You've no doubt that Jeongguk would step up to the plate, if a kid were to be on the cards. Would be a great dad. Fantastic. If anything, your certainty of his ability is the only thing that would maybe convince you to keep it.

But he has dreams, too. He has goals. Has a meeting with the bank next week for a business loan that will set the wheels in motion.

It's in both of your best interests to be on the same page. Feels heartless, when you think of it like that - but such is life. We can't have everything all at once.

Getting to your feet, you give him a reluctant smile. "Put the TV on. Don't want you to listen to me pissing. Weirdo."

Jeongguk agrees to do so. Turns the TV on as you walk away, and almost mutes it just to wind you up - but he needs you to do this test. Doesn't want to run the risk of taking things back to square one. The sooner you have an answer, the sooner you can go about righting the wrongs of your arrangement.

Flicking across the latch of your bathroom door, a weight presses down on your chest.

Intrusive and unforgiving, it's exactly what you've been shying away from.

The future isn't written in the stars. It's not some cosmic destiny like you try to kid yourself that is it. No prophecy can foretell the outcome of your bad decisions. Choices are made, and consequences are dealt. Life balances on chance, and you're well aware you've taken a few too many.

Resting your hands on the basin of your sink, you let your head hang between your shoulders. Inhale. Exhale.

You know if Jeongguk were in the room with you, he'd get you looking in the mirror. Have you confronting this fear head-on.

And you know you'd thank him for it.

Lifting your gaze to yourself, you study your face. Glitter trails up your cheekbone and dusts the inner corners of your eyes. Not too much. Well, not too much for you. Probably a little too much for most people.

You'd recently spent a night without glitter, and had felt like a shell of yourself.

The person looking at you in the mirror right now may not have her life figured out. Shit might be a mess. Her heart is in a state of disarray and her 'career' can barely even be called a career.

But as you look down at the box in front of you, you know that beyond the door is a person who somehow has the ability to make it feel like it all makes sense. As if you're exactly where you're supposed to be.

So while, no, you don't think you were fated to end up here, specifically, you know that you are destined to be okay. You have to be. Regardless of the outcome.

In your living room, Jeongguk's staring at the television, but he isn't paying it any attention.

The news is on. Some report about declining birth rates. It makes him feel uneasy, so he flicks it over to the next channel. A kids show. Flicks it over again. Finally lands on a variety show he doesn't care for. Decides it's better than the other two, so leaves it on.

Feet to the floor, he sits up straight on your sofa, doesn't realise just how violently he's jittering his leg until his phone drops to the floor.

As he leans down to pick it up, he notices a small mirror ball tile tangled in your shagpile rug. Smiles to himself as he picks it out, and tosses it on your coffee table. Wonders, a little carelessly, if your kids would take after you and your magpie-like love for shiny things.

Before he gets a chance to reprimand himself for thinking about such hypotheticals, your bathroom clicks open.

Like a deer in headlights, your eyes are wide. Fearful. Have just done something you can't take back.

"So...?" Jeongguk nervously asks. For all he's read in the last week or so, he doesn't actually know how tests like these work.

You shrug your shoulders. Don't move from the doorway, almost as if you're guarding the small pink that rests on top of your toilet. "Don't know yet. It's developing."

He nods. Swallows. "Right. Yeah. Of course," he says, because it seems obvious now. "How-"

"Three minutes," you state a little mechanically, knowing exactly what he was going to ask. "Three minutes. One line is safe. Two lines... Two lines means I'm pregnant."

Jeongguk is silent as he looks at you. Is normally so good with knowing the right things to say.

You typically only ever face one of your fears at a time. He's strong when you're weak, and vice versa. So used to being pillars of support, there's a strange air of caution now that you're both terrified.

Nothing can be said, nor done, to change the outcome, now.

So Jeongguk stands. Holds out his hand. "C'mere."

Reluctant at first, his earnest eyes encourage you over. Your heavy feet drag your body to him, and he wastes no time wrapping you up in the protection of himself.

"It's fine," he tells you. "It will be fine."

Nodding, you push away from him. Try and play it cool. Pretend as if you don't want to violently throw up all over your apartment.

"Shotgun not being the one to check it," you say - but he absolutely does not want to check it first.

"It's your piss," he reminds you, thinking it might persuade you.

"Gguk, let's not pretend like that's a boundary with us," you laugh. He's seen you throw up after one too many star fuckers. Has been a star fucker himself. You're pretty sure there isn't anything that could repulse him about you. Not now.

"Touche," he agrees. Holds up his fist. "Battle?"

Without hesitation, you launch into a war of rock, paper, scissors. He fights valiantly, but is no match for you - mainly because he will always, without fail, play paper as his default when he's rushed.

"That's not fair," he whines when you point it out - but a deal is a deal. The responsibility is now his, whether he likes it or not. Eventually, he nods. Psyches himself up. Paces the room a little, and bounces on the balls of his feet as if he's gearing up for a round in the boxing ring.

"You can't fight a pregnancy test," you deadpan, trying to ease the tension.

"I mean you did a pretty good job of fighting one," he reminds you, despite his smile. "Could have taken it ages ago but nooo-"

"Well, I've taken it now!" you pout a little at the way he's calling you out - mainly because you know he's right. "It'll be ready."

He continues to pace.

"Gguk," you press - as if you didn't take a million years building up the courage to take the test.

"Right," he nods, turning to face the door. "Yeah. Phew. Okay."

Light on his feet, he's still bouncing. It's a distraction method more than anything. Helps his brain regulate his chaotic thoughts a little better. Gets them in order.

Bringing your legs up to your chest, you wait patiently on the sofa. Kind of wish you'd been the one the win. At this point you just want to know. Just wanna-

"Fuck."

The sound of Jeongguk's voice echoes from the bathroom. No greater clarification is given. A second passes. The sound of a deep-rooted sigh exhaling is the only true indication that Jeongguk is aware of your fates.

And suddenly, you don't want to know at all. You yo-yo between blissful ignorance and desperation for knowledge.

As he reenters the living space, he doesn't look over at you. Heads straight for your freezer. Yanks it open, and pulls the vodka from the door. Knocks the freezer shut, and reaches over to the draining board for a shot glass. Pours himself a shot. Hisses as it goes down. Turns to face you. Pours another. Walks a little closer, and holds it out for you. It's now that you realise he's still holding the test. Nose a little blushed, eyes watery, he says nothing.

"Gguk, I don't think vodka is goo-"

"It doesn't matter," he cuts you off, presenting you with the small pink stick. Tentatively reaching for it, you're scared to look - and so Jeongguk clarifies. "One line. Not pregnant."

"Oh, fuck," you exhale. Take the shot and down it immediately. Pass Jeongguk the shot glass. Let him pour himself another. Welcome it as a second one is also poured for you, but put the empty glass on the coffee table afterwards this time. Jeongguk takes the seat opposite you as you study the test once more, making sure for certain. Look up at him with absolute elation. "I could kiss you right now."

It's just an expression, and he knows this, but fuck it. He wishes you would. Knows better than to encourage it.

"B, that's exactly what got us into this mess," he reminds you with a laugh. Pulls you in for a hug. Squeezes you so tightly you think you might just burst. "Fucking hell. I thought we were fucked."

Nodding against him, you let out a tearful laugh. The gravity of the situation hits you like a tonne of bricks. The pair of you are so happy. Deliriously so. If the test has been positive? Yeah... You don't imagine you would have felt this way.

"That was, like, the most stressful thing I've ever experienced," you whine a little, pulling away from him, to sit up straight. The smile on your lips is radiant, the look in your eyes cosmic - and he's mirroring you. "Like, no offence to your future offspring, but I couldn't think of anything worse."

He just nods. "Ditto." Laughs. Falls back into the cushions on the sofa, but drags you down with him. Hugs you even tighter than before. "Let's just never fuck again. I can't deal with the stress."

"Sounds like a plan to me."

And even though it's said in jest, there is an acute understanding that perhaps you should take a step back. Not from your friendship, nor from anything else - just the misplaced intimacy you both enjoy far too much.

Resting your chin on his chest, you wait for him to glance down. The angle is awkward and Jeongguk is well aware it's not the finest, but he doesn't care how you perceive him. Knows that the (rare) appearance of a double chin isn't exactly gonna make you run for the hills. In fact, you kind of like the angle. His eyes are so focused on you that it almost makes it hard for you to focus on him. You get a little lost in his constellations, hopping from star to star.

"I'm sorry I prolonged it," you whisper, but he just shakes his head.

"S'fine. It's done now."

He means it. Would take the stress and the turmoil of the unknown ten times over, if it means he gets this at the end of it. The way you curl up to him without hesitation, not a single care given to the world around you, evokes a lotus blossom in his chest. Blooming in even the darkest cavern, it'll survive all storms. No test of weather nor threat of disruption will ever sever it from its roots. Pretty, pink, and sparkling, it's yours. He'll keep it safe.

"You gonna head back to the gym?" You ask him, not wanting him to feel like he has to say - but once more, he just shakes his head. Says something about a new docu-series on Netflix. Mumbles shit about needing a rest day.

Truthfully, you'd quite like him to stay.

So you offer him your shower, and when he asks if you'll join, you say, "Gguk, have we learned nothing?"

His cheeks flame as a pretty laugh escapes his lips. For a second, you worry. Fear that your rejection will rehash old worries of his - but instead, he just gives you a fond smile. "Yeah. You're right."

While Jeongguk showers, you sort yourself out. Toss the test in your bedroom, and close the door. It can stay there in solitude. You don't care for it. Don't need it. For a moment, albeit a very small one, you consider what could have happened if there had been two lines in the result window - then decide it's better off not tempting fate.

Jeongguk apparently doesn't get this memo. Comes out of your bathroom in just a towel wrapped around his hips. Doesn't tempt fate, but he does tempt you. Makes you convince yourself that maybe the negative test is a sign from the stars. An all clear. The go-ahead.

Shag Jeongguk, the stars whisper while they twinkle. You'll be fine.

But the stars are not to be trusted. They romanticise things a little too much. Give you false promises and prophesize empty futures.

"My God," you scold him. "Put some clothes on!"

It takes everything in him not to just drop his towel instead - but you were right. You're supposed to have learned from this lesson. You've so many of his clothes in your room now that he may as well have his own mini wardrobe. Just grabs a pair of shorts and a white shirt. Looks so cosy that you can't refuse when he encourages you to snuggle against him.

By the time Danbi arrives home from work, you and Jeongguk are both out like lights.

Asleep on the sofa, curled up, back to Jeongguk's chest, the documentary is still running. A soft smile rests on her lips as she quietly makes her way to her bedroom. Wonders when the pair of you will just grow up and come to the same realisation that quite literally everybody else has.

Which is exactly why she's so adamant on making the pair of you speak about it the following week, during pre-drinks at Jeongguk and Jimin's place.

It's not a grand night out or any celebration - just an excuse to get together with friends. Mid-seasons, there's much to do other than socialise with your nearest and dearest, and Jeongguk wants to blow off a little steam before his meeting with the Bank. Knows that once the ball is rolling and progress is being made, he won't have the opportunity to be so reckless with his time.

For now, though, he'll revel in the novelty of normalcy.

"Honestly," Jeongguk stresses, beer in hand, tipsy determination lacing his features. "I know what you think you saw, but-"

"Oh, not Jeongguk coming in strong with gaslighting," Danbi snorts, wine glass to her lips as her eyes judgmentally cast you both knowing gazes. Currently grilling him about the night at The Ryu, she doesn't buy his excuses for a second. "You can't deny the gallery. You almost kissed ! In front of everyone ."

She raises a good point; One that you are quick to deny.

"Ah," you interject. "But the key word, there, is almost . We were just trying to make it look like we were into one another. And, I mean.. gotcha!"

Jimin snorts. Mimics. " 'Look .'"

You ignore him. Continue to defend yourselves. Pretend like you didn't notice a small holographic fleck on Jeongguk's skin earlier. He's still stained in you, even if you haven't been painting his skin lovely shades of pink and purple much these days.

Despite Taehyung's art show having been and gone well over two weeks ago, it's the first time you're all hanging out together. You'll meet the others later when you get into town, so for now, you revel in the harmless bantering of your closest friends within the group.

The bottle of beer in Jeongguk's hand slowly warms, condensation sweltering down the sides. He takes a swig, and knocks it back with a shake of his head. "We aren't dating, we aren't fucking - what more do you want from us? For us to lie?"

"But you are lying!" Jimin whines, pulling one of the sofa pillows up to his face. Pressing down into it, he screams.

You don't care to hide the coy smile you throw Jeongguk's way. He doesn't care to hide his either, kind of enjoying the ridiculousness of it all. Biting down on his plump bottom lip, you're distracted momentarily by the way his lip ring flips in the corner of his mouth.

"Why does it even matter?" You laugh, getting your feet so you can retrieve your punnet of strawberries from the fridge. "What will confirmation do? Won't change anything."

"It'll satisfy my ever-present need to be correct," Jimin assures you, and it does make you laugh.

But then you're turning to walk back, and are struck by how gorgeous Jeongguk's new haircut makes him appear. He's always been charming. Always hot. There's just something about the way it's pushed back, and a few strands remain loose, that really gets you. Looks like a hot mechanic or some shit like that. The kinda guy who'd know his way around an engine.

Coming to stop beside Jeongguk, you perch on the arm of the sofa. Smirk. Bite down on your bottom lip.

Clasping his chin, you're pleased to see a total lack of surprise on Jeongguk's face. Instead, he trusts you. Knows that whatever you're doing comes with purpose. This isn't about desire.

He plays the hand you've dealt him spectacularly. Leaning in a little closer - but notably not as close as he's used to - you let the very tip of your nose nudge against his. Grin. Whisper, loud enough for your friends to hear, "Shall we tell them?"

Stroking his hand up your waist while you keep him locked in position, Jeongguk is almost too good at playing the role of a devoted lover. Looks at you with Orion's bow in his eyes, though if you were to think critically, you'd know it was Cupid who had struck him.

"About which part?"

Your friends stare in stunned silence. Jimin's jaw looks like it's fallen off its hinges. It's not like either of you notice. You're entirely focused on one another right now. Are just doing it for the shits and giggles, but kinda forget you're supposed to be winding your friends up, not each other.

"The part where we're actually embroiled in a FinDom contract, and the only reason I stick around is for the money," you lie with such cadence that it sounds entirely plausible.

They all know Jeongguk's in no position to finance such a lifestyle, mind you. They know it must be bullshit.

Jeongguk playfully frowns. "I thought we agreed on never telling a living soul? Anyways, I think they'd be more interested to know sex parties we go to every weekend?"

"Oh shit, you're right," you enthuse, quite clearly both trying to outdo the other. "And about your Daddy kink."

Now this one does make Jeongguk's lips twitch a little, denial begging its way up his throat, but painfully swallowed by his need to keep the game up. So instead, he shrugs. "They'll be just as interested in your Mummy kink."

But even if Jeongguk can fake it for that long, you can't. Need to tap out, otherwise you'll burst out laughing. Easing your grip on his jaw, you saunter back to your place on the sofa and simply shrug. Raise a brow. Let your tongue cheekily flick against your teeth as you address your friends. "Was that the confirmation you were after?"

"I'm gonna be sick," Jimin groans, rolling about on the floor.

"Oh, give over," you laugh. "You didn't actually believe that?"

Jeongguk needs another beer. Wants to wash away the mind-numbing way it feels to flirt with you, but knows there's absolutely no way he can stand right now. Would only serve to prove the suspicions of your friends true.

"I've seen Jeongguk lie before," Jimin reminds you. "Can't lie to save his life-"

"Hey!"

"- but that was the most convincing set of words that have ever come out of his mouth. You two are freaks - confirmed - and I wish I had never asked. Am scarred for life."

Glancing over to Jeongguk, you're pleased to see he's finding this just as funny as you are.

"Phew," he feigns relief. Braces himself, 'cause he knows what he's about to say is gonna get a reaction. "Was worried you'd react badly. It's why we didn't tell you about the Brony convention we're going to next weekend."

"Brony?!"

"What the fuck?"

"How do you even know what a Brony is?!"

"Wait... What is a Brony?" Taehyung asks a little cluelessly, and honestly, you think it's best to let Danbi explain that one.

As the conversation derails, you excuse yourself to go and make another drink. You're not due to leave the apartment for another half an hour or so, and there's plenty of liquor to tide you over until then.

Coming to stand behind you, your friends distracted by their own debate, Jeongguk lets his hand rest on your hip. It's not an unusual position for him to be in. He's acquainted with you in all and every capacity thinkable - there's not an inch of your skin that he hasn't devoured.

He's kissed, and he's caressed. Worshipped and reddened with the intimate touch of his hands. Has held your body so closely at times it's been hard to tell where his ended and yours began.

The encroachment upon your personal space is never intrusive with him. Is always welcome.

"What are we having?" He asks, not thinking anything of his incessant need to be touching you. It's just comfortable. Natural. Familiar.

"Was thinking about Star Lovers," you tell him.

Funny, really. He's been thinking about them a lot too, tonight - though perhaps not the kind you're talking about.

"Star Lovers," he simply nods. Smiles. Says, "Yeah. Sounds perfect."

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI