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lostintransist · 2 days ago

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Can't Catch Me | A König One-Shot

König runs into a spot of trouble with the mob. But wouldn't you know it, his favorite barista is heading home and is willing to play along.

For @backseatsoldier *hugs, kisses, and hopefully König spends the night*

CW: 18+ Minors do not interact, kissing, ass smacking, suggestive themes

You stretched your neck as you walked the final stretch toward home. Two jobs, an early morning barista shift followed by a break, and then a half shift at a call center always left you drained. But between the two schedules, you had time to do two classes a day or settle at the school library and bust out homework before it was due. No matter the time the sun had always hidden itself away before you could leave the call center.

The shitty and small bathtub in your flat and a bath bomb someone had given you for Christmas two years back called your name. The well of the tub was so thin that water got trapped behind you as you emptied it. You forgot that until you went to stand up and a flood of water rushes over your legs and toes.

You are flung, quite literally, from your thoughts when you meet a wall nose first. Rubbing your nose you step back and look up, and up, and up. Oh! You know this wall! He comes by your coffee shop regularly enough and always gives K as his name.

“Oh! Iced chai with two espresso, sorry about that. I should have been watching where I was going.”

The tall, broad man glances behind him. His face is hidden by a surgical mask, as always. When he glances back to you a spark of something, something concerning, lights in his eyes.

“You know me, ja?” At your confused nod he continues, “How much I pay you pretend we together?”

Blinking rapidly is your only response before your mouth forms a “wha” shape.

“Five hundred enough?”

“Uh-u-sure?”

He rips the mask off, shoving it deep in his pocket before grabbing your right hand in his left and circling a long arm around you, caging you between the combined length of your arms.

“How was work love?”

He stares down at you expectantly. The sound of pounding feet reaches your ears, the volume rising with each step.

“Honestly love? It was exhausting.”

His eyes get wider the closer the footsteps get. You wrench the hat off your head, ignoring the hat hair you undoubtedly have. Slapping it down over his massive skull you have never been more thankful for what your mother always complained of as your ‘overly large, vagina-tearing noggin’. It’s a bit of a tight fit but the layer of change helps his shoulders relax a fraction.

“What made it so bad?”

You start walking as he continues the charade, tugging him along despite his clear resistance.

“So, you know how my boss is a complete asshole right?” He grunts and you continue, “Well he just hired his daughter to be the office manager, which first off is clearly a nepo choice but I’m just a part-time employee what the hell can I say about it?”

Two men dressed all in black and guns on their hips race past the two of you with barely a glance.

“Not much,” he agrees, ear tipped toward the retreating footsteps. “How much to go to your apartment until I can get a ride here?”

“Your name.”

He looks down at you, brows pinched together under the brim of your borrowed hat.

“König.”

“Thank you, König. Yes, you can come and hang out at my apartment until you get your ride scheduled.”

The stress from his shoulders and the pinched look on his face disappeared.

“Now tell me more, I thought you worked at the coffee shop.” He falls into step with you now, slower shorter steps keeping up with your slightly elongated to accommodate for him.

“I do, I work the early shift at the café and then have a few hours off for school and homework before I do my late-night job so I can make rent.” Bumping his thigh with your hip you continue, “What do you do other than running from gangsters?”

“Mobsters,” he countered, “Blow stuff up, mostly.”

“Mmm. Quite impressive.”

The sound of footsteps, speeding back toward you sent both your hackles up.

König leaned down into your ear, “How much to kiss you?”

Mind can’t keep up with all these jumps and you spit out the first number word you can think of.

“Hundred!”

He lets out a small laugh, pulling you tighter to him and moving you both forward as he directs your steps closer to the wall. Your back hits the wall as the men come into view. König’s lips are on your before you can think of much else.

Could a brain give a blue screen of death? That’s the only way you can describe the complete lack of function your brain produces when his lips meet yours. Movement happens by need alone and that need has you pulling him closer, fingers digging into the flesh at his waist as you lick the seam of his lips. His forearm lands next to your head as his knees buckle slightly.

The footsteps slow as they pass you but the wanton, and frankly, too graphic to be outside of a bedroom or a porno sounds shoot erupts out of you, sending them scurrying away. Some masculine cologne sweeps into your brain, killing off the last of your brain cells. You would climb him like a tree given half a chance.

“Six hundred,” he whispers as he pulls back slightly.

Eyes unfocused, you blindly reach out and grab him by the collar. Dragging him back to your lips you catch his lower lip between your teeth, pulling gently as you lean away. The tiniest sound escapes from deep in his throat, a spear thrown that landed directly in your needy bits.

“Seven hundred,” you breathed on his lips.

Breaths mingling König watches you watch him. The condensation of his breath warms and cools your face.

“Those kisses are worth a hundred a piece,” he whispers as if worship is his primary language.

Movement from the edge of your vision alerts you to the mob’s incoming presence.

“Pick me up, keep pretending. I can direct you to my apartment,” an edge of panic creeps into your voice as you force your eyes to not move from his.

He does as you command, hands so wide they nearly span the width of your thighs as he lifts you, knees hugging his waist and ankles locking behind his back.

The giggle that escapes you is real. You were too solid for nearly any other man to hoist you like this. He settles both arms under your butt, holding you close. Flopping onto his shoulders, kissing up and down his neck you count the doorways until you see the one before yours and bite gently on König’s earlobe. He pulls you tighter when you start to murmur.

“This next door is mine. They are still following but looking way less suspiciously at us. Smack my ass.”

König didn’t need to be told twice. The crack of his large hand across your backside made the men following flinch and turn away, confident now that the man they had followed half a block was not the person they were looking for.

You didn’t mean to, but your jaw tightened, pinching his earlobe tighter as you whine into his ear. He let out a groan that would haunt your masturbation sessions until you reached death, dildo in hand.

Letting go of his ear you rest back on his shoulder. He rubs out the sting of his smack; your inner walls clench at the care.

“First door is unlocked. Head to the top floor. I’m in six.”

He isn’t breathing hard when he tops the several flights of stairs, even despite the additional weight of your body.

When he lets you down it is with a slide down the length of his body, a slight bulge at his zipper confirms you weren’t the only one affected by the shared kisses. You spin around, focusing diligently on the task of unlocking the door. Throwing the door wide you step in and gesture to the space.

“Get comfortable, call your ride. I need to change and get ready for bed. I have to be awake in five hours for work,” you don’t turn as you stalk further into your small apartment.

Shutting the bedroom door you cover your mouth with both hands as you force the deepest breaths you can manage through your nose. After the tenth deep breath, you are calm enough to change. Your long pants and ugliest hoodie are your shields. A soft, wireless bra you pray is enough to keep the ladies from trying to claw their way to say hello and a clean, dry pair of underwear is the last of the changes.

Stepping from the bedroom you find König staring out the window and down at the street.

“Wanna watch a show while you wait for your ride?” You twist the inner portion of your hoodie pocket around one finger.

“Ja,” he nods and settles into one corner of the couch with three massive steps.

Turning on something calming, settling yourself on the other side of the couch, a pillow wedged underneath your head. You are drifting when his phone buzzes once.

He curses in what sounds like German before tapping your leg with two fingers.

“My ride is delayed. Can I purchase more kisses?”

Any sleep that might have been gathering fled like birds as a toddler ran full force toward them. You popped upright, looking over every bit of the man you could see in the shifting light of the TV.

The serious cast to his face decided your answer for you. Crawling into his lap, not unlike the way he carried you home less than an hour ago, you settle yourself pussy to penis. The layers of clothing between you would not prevent you from enjoying this stolen bit of time.

“König, I am going to do my best to bankrupt you,” your fingers creep up his arms as his hands settle on your waist.

“Gut.”

No more words are shared, only base noises, keening cries, and the wet sounds of sloppy kisses.

Preemptive tags because I know how much these two people love König: @demothers-empty-blog @machveil

Masterlist

#cod #fanfiction #cod x reader #konig x female reader #konig call of duty #konig #konig cod #konig x reader #konig x you #lostintransit writing #lostintransit

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cheeseatlantic · 2 days ago

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hi baby bells, or cheese factory tourists… ive come to feed you animal knowledge in the form of tooth-rotting ghost x reader fluff, today are PRARIE VOLESSSSS

Tipsy activities with Simon would include making out, celebrity gossip where you would blab about and he would listen or drunkenly make food which tasted either really bad or really good, no in between. But today you unlocked a new tipsy activity, watching animal documentaries together.

You were curled up next to Simon, wearing one of his old shirts and a random pair of underwear, a blanket wrapped tightly around you with a bowl of chips in your lap. Simon nursed a whiskey, oddly enough but it was 10 PM, reasonable time. Whatever. You were stressed out the entire fucking day, hence why you had a few drinks.

His mask was left forgotten on the coffee table as the both of you stared at the television, the star of the episode today were prairie voles, you’d learned now thanks to National Geographic that prairie voles are extremely affectionate animals. They sense when their partner is stressed then shower them in affection, just like you and Simon.

The scene switched to two voles grooming each other and you giggled and elbowed Simon in his side gently to get his attention, when you felt his eyes on you, you grinned. “That’s literally us.” You spoke, jutting your chin to the screen as he looked at the screen and chuckled. “Aye, that��s us.” He spoke. “Let’s recreate that scene, hm?” He added.

He snatched the bowl of popcorn off your lap and put it on the coffee table next to his mask as he pulled you onto his lap and wrapped his arms around your waist, his touch gentle. He leaned in and started peppering kisses all over your face, neck, and shoulders as you giggled. “Simon!” You playfully scolded, trying to squirm away but his hold on you tightened.

“Hm?” He hummed, smiling away as you grinned like an idiot, continuing his affection shower. Alcohol made him a lot more affectionate than usual, sober Simon was affectionate of course but tipsy Simon was so much more lovey with you. He was like a big lovebird, you debated at least weekly to get him drunk so that he’d shower you with love.

“You’re so stupid.” You slurred as he snorted and kept kissing you, and not an inch of skin was left unloved, and it never would be as long as you had him. Somehow a big muscle wall of a soldier could transform into your own big stupid prairie vole, only for you.

guys i love animals :)3)3)36364)):632)&4!:$2

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fancyfeathers · 3 days ago

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Part two to this post

Barry Allen would baby trap his darling at some point, it’s when he would not if he would. He also does not exactly view it as baby trapping, it is just the next step in life, you get saved by the Flash engaged, you get kidnapped married, so naturally kids would come next in the line. He know, he know, kids are a really big step, but they have time. Then they have to figure out what to do if the kids have their father’s speed, there is no way his darling can raise the little ones all on her own as a stay at home mom, they’ll have to figure a dynamic that keeps him home more often so he can teach the kids while she is getting dinner ready-

Meanwhile while telling his darling about his their future plans while eating dinner with her and she is just sitting there horrified, he had their whole life planned like they had been together for years.

“Hey, hey, hey, baby, don’t cry. I know this is scary, but we’ll figure it out together.”

The moment he finds out she is pregnant, he hits the ground running, pun not intended, on the preparations. Then literally a minute later after getting the news he has the crib built and is just all over his darling, names for a girl, names for a boy, what if they have twins?

When the baby is born, he does not want to put them down, Barry always needs to holding his baby. Hey, kangaroo care does improve brain and motor development, lowers risk of infection, regulates temperature, and improves weight gain.

Oliver Queen does not really try to get his darling pregnant, but it is not something he bothers to prevent either. It is a thing that naturally happens in time so if they are meant to have kids then so be it, if they aren’t then that is fine to. Now unlike some of the Justice League members, Oliver is more in tune to his darling’s emotions and chances are when she gets that positive pregnancy test that she will not exactly be happy, probably be crying. Oliver will not say anything and he will just sit with her on the bathroom tile and hold her while she cries.

Now just because he understands how his darling feels does not mean she doesn’t have to carry the baby, no she still has to, after all it’s their future child, it means that Oliver will be far more lax with things. Oliver doesn’t really have a lot of rule, and the few he does have are to protect his darling from the sort of threats that may come at her because he is Green Arrow, he is by far one of the least up tight members of the Justice League with their darling. She can go out with him if she wants to rather than being stuck home all day long, she can stay up later, she can even go with him to Justice League meetings because the social interaction would be good for her especially since at least one of the Green Lanterns’ darlings is around the Watchtower while their partner is off planet, and if Clark’s darling is around it is good for them to talk because lord knows how many babies she has had so there is bound to be good advice from her.

Also I think that Oliver would want to do an at home birth, it is free from all the chaos of a hospital because it will attract attention if he is there suddenly with a wife no one has ever seen, plus his money will cover everything, even hiring private doctors for the baby’s vaccinations and such post delivery, and then not to mention to comfort of being able to relax in his own home with his darling and their little baby after the delivery, holding them both and just being in the moment without the stress of anything and not having to be away from either of them.

Also I feel like Oliver would be such a girl dad, like sure he would be happy if it was a boy, but if it’s a girl then that’s his little princess.

Look with Bruce Wayne there is only one correct answer here, absolutely he would. He would not even need to get his darling pregnant to do it, he already has too many children to count. But sometimes empty nest syndrome hits rather hard especially when Dick moves out to Blüdhaven and then the grief when Jason died, then as the other kid come and go they get older and grow more distant, then only one of them is biological and Bruce never got the chance to see Damian as a baby because his son was being raised by the League of Assassins and Bruce had no idea he even existed, so maybe having a child would not be such a bad idea after all.

He would not be surprised or acted surprised when his darling tells him she is pregnant, he planned everything down to the little details, tracking periods, morning sickness, everything. He is happy, but he is calm, telling her that they can handle this. The big thing is telling the rest of his children, who are most likely yanderes as well, that she is pregnant, it’s difficult enough to get them all in the same room at the same time and it is even harder to get them all to calm down when they tell them the news. Dick and Stephanie are by far the most excited at the news, Dick is so excited that he picks her up in a hug and spins her around, but meanwhile Cassandra is just staring at her, just with a look she knows that Bruce’s darling is not happy with this but she can’t exactly say that out loud in a room full of people who are more happy about her baby than she is.

Setting up the nursery is even a family affair, Dick and Tim are painting the walls while Bruce figures out how to build the crib, and meanwhile she is just sitting in an armchair with a cup of caffeine free tea from Alfred with Stephanie and Duke suggesting names while she drinks. Meanwhile Jason takes the initiative to begin to baby proofing the manor because they cannot expect to have gear outside the Batcave with a baby in the house, not ever child in this family is going to be a vigilante.

Then when the baby is born, Bruce makes it a point to shut down any jokes about the baby becoming a Robin, they are not going to be trained from birth like Damian was and they were not taken in by Bruce like the others were. Though Dick and Barbara definitely get the baby a Robin onesie as a gag gift.

But one good thing about having Bruce’s child, when the baby wakes up in the night, either Alfred, Bruce, or one of the kids get there before she does. Now Bruce or the kids may still be in full costume and have just run upstairs from the cave to help after getting back from patrol, but it’s fine.

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luvismenu · 1 day ago

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Only When It's Us — JJK

you can’t wait to show your boyfriend the lingerie you bought — kinda nsfw

— drabble based on this ask !!

wc: 2.4k+

note: i’m so sorry it took me this long 🥲 but yay, it’s finally here!! wanted to keep this a little shorter, like 1.5k-ish words but i js couldn't help myself write a little more hehe— enjoy the silly, sexy moments <3 check the ask for warnings if you need them lolol love all of my owiu readers out there !! 🤍

ever since you started dating jungkook, life has felt... lighter.

it’s not that the stress is gone, there are still challenges ahead of you, but one thing that keeps you grounded is knowing your boyfriend will always be there for you.

like today, when he insisted on taking you out because you’ve been working so hard lately.

you’re out with jungkook and a group of your friends; yoongi, jimin, taehyung and his girlfriend hina, and jin with his wife da-eun. these are the people you’ve grown close to, thanks to jungkook encouraging you to meet them. you didn’t have many friends before, but now you do who you're thankful for.

and you’re especially grateful for hina and da-eun. hina, the same age as you, is a bundle of energy, while da-eun, a few years older, is a calming presence. even tho they're different than you, they still, just.. get you.

the day started at a museum; jin and yoongi’s idea. it was calm and peaceful, exactly what you needed.

jungkook stayed by your side the whole time, his arm draped around your shoulders or your waist, leaning in to whisper sweet things to you. and okay, maybe he sneaked you into an empty storage room for a heated makeout session, but that’s beside the point.

it was still peaceful.

next came the arcade, a suggestion from jimin and taehyung. while the guys, especially jungkook, went wild with the games, you and the others enjoyed watching. yoongi’s consistent losing streak provided endless laughs, and the chaos turned into pure fun.

when jungkook noticed that the guys had been dominating the day’s plans, he suggested letting the women choose the next stop. naturally, hina, da-eun, and you all agreed on shopping, much to the guys’ amused groans.

now, you’re at the mall, wandering through the shops. the energy of the place, with its bright displays and bustling crowd, somehow lifts your spirits.

“i literally don’t want anything,” jimin says, stifling a yawn.

“i might grab something,” taehyung adds, his eyes darting to the plushie section. you can’t help but think it’s for hina. she told you loves collecting them, even showed you her collection.

you, on the other hand, have just one plushie from childhood, but you get the appeal. plushies are adorable.

“i really wanna buy some cute clothes!” hina exclaims, her excitement contagious as taehyung pulls her close with a chuckle.

“me too,” da-eun says with a smile, glancing at jin, who nods in agreement.

“what about you, babe?” jungkook asks, looking down at you with that soft gaze of his.

“me three!” you grin, and the group laughs.

“well, let’s head to the women’s section i gues—” jimin begins, but hina cuts him off sharply.

“men are not allowed.”

the guys blink in confusion.

“huh?” they say in unison.

“why can’t we come? it’s just a clothes section,” taehyung protests, crossing his arms.

“because we’re having girls’ time, right?” hina says, looking to you and da-eun for backup.

“absolutely,” da-eun replies without hesitation.

you nod with a smile.

“but i thought i could help pick something for—” jungkook starts, his hand still on your waist, but da-eun interrupts him.

“girls’ time!” she declares, grabbing your arm and pulling you towards her. jungkook is left standing there, sulking like a kid whose toy has been taken away.

“i’m okay with that,” yoongi says, almost like a deadpan. “plus, i need to sit down. my legs are killing me.”

“same here. you girls enjoy,” jin adds, planting a kiss on da-eun’s forehead.

“all right, grandpas, let’s find you a bench,” jimin says with an eye roll, leading yoongi and jin away. taehyung pauses to kiss hina on the cheek and whispering ‘have fun’ before following them.

jungkook stays rooted in place, looking like he’s waiting for something.

you cup his face in your hands, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “see you later, babe.”

he pouts, his bottom lip jutting out just a bit, and you chuckle before turning to join the girls. behind you, jungkook slowly trails after the guys, shaking his head with a smile.

now it’s just you, hina, and da-eun in the women’s section, sifting through racks of clothes and chatting about everything.

“i am so glad we can take our time now and let the boys wait. i don’t even like museums,” hina huffs, sorting through a pile of clothes alongside you and da-eun.

you and da-eun chuckle, shaking your heads.

“look, this is cute. it matches your aesthetic too!” you say, holding up a light pink mini dress.

“and it looks like it would fit you perfectly,” da-eun adds with a smile.

hina’s eyes light up as she takes the dress. “i’m gonna try this on right now!” she squeals, rushing off which makes you both smile.

you and da-eun continue browsing. she picks out a few outfits while you grab some comfy clothes and a few dresses. as you glance around, your eyes land on the lingerie section nearby.

one particular set catches your attention; a lacy, red, and very explicit set that makes your cheeks warm just thinking about it. it’s the kind of thing you’d love to wear for jungkook.

you blink, trying to shake the thought, but da-eun’s voice from behind startles you. “you should buy it.”

you flinch a little and chuckle nervously. “what? no, i was just looking.”

da-eun smiles knowingly. “do you not like it?”

you look at it again and you sigh, giving in. “i love it,” you admit.

before she can respond, hina comes bounding back with the pink dress in her hands, her face glowing. “you guys were right, it fits perfectly, and i love ittt!”

you and da-eun smile at her.

“i sent a pic to tae, and he’s already drooling.” she chuckles before continuing, “what about you, da-eun? are you gonna get that pretty, sexy dress you were looking at?” hina teases with a laugh.

“obviously!” da-eun says with a grin. then both of them turn their attention to you.

“what about you, ___?” hina asks excitedly. “did you pick anything... spicyy?”

you glance awkwardly at da-eun, who grins mischievously and subtly points hina towards the lingerie display. hina gasps dramatically, her eyes widening.

“that is so fucking hot! oh my god, you should totally get that, ___. please, please, please!” hina exclaims, practically bouncing on her toes.

you laugh, hiding your face in your hands, a little flustered.

“i’m getting that one.”

“oh my gosh, i missed food!” jimin gasps dramatically, stuffing a bite into his mouth.

the eight of you are seated in a cozy restaurant, wrapping up the day with dinner after hours of fun. the table is alive with chatter and laughter, everyone enjoying their meals. the couples sit side by side, exchanging sweet moments, which jimin predictably calls out.

“ugh, get a room, all of you!” he groans, rolling his eyes.

“honestly, yes, get a fucking room. you’re all just rubbing it in that i’m single,” yoongi adds with a dry chuckle, making everyone laugh.

you’re beside jungkook, his hand intertwined with yours under the table. his thumb lazily rubs soft circles on your skin while he chats with yoongi about something. you’re barely paying attention to their conversation because all you can think about is how ridiculously fucking good he looks right now.

he’s not even trying, just sitting there in a simple shirt and jeans, his hair slightly messy, and yet he’s got your mind wandering to... other things.

speaking of other things, you think about the clothes you bought earlier, the lingerie and a few silky nightdresses that were too beautiful to resist. the thought of showing them to him makes your heart race.

gently, you slip your hand out of his hold and place it on his thigh. his conversation falters as he glances at you, his dark eyes searching yours like he’s silently asking, ‘what’s wrong?'

you shake your head, smiling softly. his lips curve into a small, confused smile, but he goes back to talking.

you wait for the right moment, checking to make sure no one’s paying attention, and then let your hand slide a little higher.

that gets his full attention.

his gaze snaps to your hand, now dangerously close to a place you know will drive him insane. his jaw tightens, and you can see the realization in his eyes— he knows exactly what you’re doing.

leaning in, he brings his lips close to your ear, his voice low and deep. “if you keep doing that, i might have to take you home right now.”

you smile teasingly, leaning closer to whisper, “what are you talking about, jeon? i’m doing nothing.” your hand retreats, as if you’re completely innocent, and he sucks in a sharp breath.

you pick up the drink infront of you, sipping on it with a teasing smile.

he shakes his head slightly, a small smile tugging at his lips, but you can tell he’s trying to distract himself from the thoughts in his head— thoughts about exactly what he wants to do to you later.

. . .

soon, the evening winds down, and everyone begins saying their goodbyes.

“this was fun. we should do this more often,” taehyung says, and everyone nods in agreement.

as you’re saying goodbye to hina and da-eun, you notice the way they giggle at you, their eyes glinting with... mischief. you smile knowingly, already guessing what’s on their minds.

“what? what’s going on?” jin asks, looking at da-eun curiously.

she simply smiles at him and says, “just girlie things.”

jin frowns slightly, still confused, but lets it go with a soft laugh.

“okay then, let's go home.”

the door barely shuts behind you before jungkook has you pressed against it, his lips capturing yours in a kiss so desperate it leaves you breathless. his hands are on your waist, pulling you closer, and you can feel the heat radiating off him as his body presses against yours.

you kiss him back with equal intensity, your hands wrapping around his neck pulling him down, but then you pull away slightly, resting your forehead against his.

“wait,” you whisper, your breathing uneven.

“wait?” his voice is low, and he looks at you like he’s already losing his patience.

you nod, smiling as you try to calm your racing heart. “i want to show you the clothes i bought today.”

he groans, throwing his head bacm dramatically. “right now?”

“you’ll like it, i promise.” you take his hand and lead him to your bedroom, pushing him gently onto the bed

“stay here,” you instruct, pointing at him before disappearing into the closet

he watches you go, running a hand through his hair, still trying to cool down.

a few moments later, you step out wearing a long, dark purple dress that hugs your body in all the right places. the fabric flows down gracefully, and the color makes your skin glow.

jungkook’s eyes widen slightly, his eyes raking over you with awe. “you look... fuck.. wow. so pretty.”

you twirl slightly, letting the fabric swish around you. “you like it?”

“baby, you look so fucking beautiful,” he breathes, sitting up straighter.

smiling, you step back into the closet and reappear moments later in another dress— this time, it’s a bit shorter, hitting just above your knees, with a soft floral design. jungkook grins, biting his lip as he watches you show it off.

“okay, this one’s cute,” he says, his eyes never leaving you.

you keep going, the dresses getting shorter and more... bold. when you step out in a sleek, silky black mini nightdress that barely reaches mid-thigh, jungkook groans, leaning back on his hands like he’s trying to restrain himself.

“you’re doing this on purpose,” he accuses, his voice low and rough, his eyes locked onto you like you’re the only thing that matters.

“what?” you ask innocently, moving a little, the skirt of your dress swishing just enough to tease him.

he watches you, his gaze following your every move, filled with love— and something much darker, much hungrier. “do a little twirl for me, baby,” he says, his voice dropping even lower.

you smirk and twirl, biting your lip when you see the way his jaw tightens.

“are you done yet?” he finally asks, his tone laced with desperation. “because if i don’t touch you soon, i might fucking lose my mind.”

you laugh softly, walking over to him and placing your hands on his shoulders. “one more, please?”

he grabs your waist in an instant, pulling you close until you’re straddling his lap, his warm hands settling on your hips. “fine,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your neck, “but only after you give me a kiss.”

you tilt your head down, pressing your lips to his in a kiss that’s soft but full of promise. after a few seconds, you pull back, grinning. “you’re gonna love this,” you whisper before slipping off his lap and disappearing into the closet again.

jungkook leans back on the bed, exhaling, trying to control himself. but when you don’t return right away, he shifts impatiently, standing up to pace the room.

when you finally walk out, he’s stops mid-step. he freezes, his eyes widening as they take you in.

you’re wearing the red lingerie set, the delicate lace barely there, with rope-like straps wrapping around your body. small red heart-shaped details covering the parts he really wants to see right now.

he stares at you, his lips parting slightly, his breath catching in his throat.

“oh.. fuck.” he mutters, his voice so quiet it’s almost a whisper.

you walk towards him slowly, swaying your hips just a little. “what do you think babe?”

he doesn’t answer right away, too busy drinking in the sight of you. when he finally speaks, his voice is hoarse. “i think i just died and went to heaven.”

you stop in front of him, chuckling softly as your fingers trailing up his chest. “i told you you’d love it.”

“you’re so fucking sexy,” he breathes, his hands coming up to rest on your hips, his grip on you firm as if he’s trying to stop himself from losing control. “c'mere”

you smile, letting him pull you closer.

“all this for me?” he asks, his voice low and raspy as his hands trail down to your ass, gripping the soft flesh in his large hands, pulling you even closer.

“all for you,” you whisper, your lips barely hovering over his, the warmth of his breath brushing against your skin.

that’s all it takes for him to snap. his lips crash into yours fiercely.

and this time, there’s no holding back.

a/n: ...wish i can show yall the lingerie pic but idk if it's allowed habahabaohw

📜 series taglist: @deepikhaprakash @rjooniesdimples @wombatkitten127 @minaateez @myjungkookthighs

💌 permanent taglist: @annyeongbitch7 @internetrando64 @jkvias @lovieku @deluluisdasolulu @ddanasjk @onlyforyoukook @diamondjeon @nnybtitts08 @lil0u0 @butnotmontana @fr0ggieth1nk @minimoninini @whoa-jo @lola75111 @jaytheatiny @iswearimover5feetall @rispwr @genevieveeeee

@134340-kr @mar-lo-pap @fluttershypoo @kyuupii @https-mei @elinaki92 @jungkookmyoneandonlybaby @hoseokteardrop @winterbeartaehyungbestboy @jaykay-world @jmscaffeine @libra04 @beigerin @nikidream24 @svnbangtansworld @mimi1097 @kookoo-kachoo @junecat18 @iheartchanelle @rrosiitas @jjeonjjk7 @remgeolli @ty-moy-ya-tvoy @rpwprpwprpwprw

#jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook scenarios #jeon jungkook #fanfic #jungkook smut #bts fanfiction #jungkook x reader

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makeyoumine69 · 2 days ago

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Disease

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Patrick Bateman x Fem!Reader

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: After his failed attempt to charm you, Patrick can't stop thinking about you because you've completely occupied his mind and now the poor man can't get any rest and has to masturbate to thoughts of you almost every night.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Smut, masturbation, desperate Patrick, swearing, spanking, delusions, obsessive behavior, cum shot.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒: <1k

𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐑𝐄𝐂: Lady Gaga—Disease💕

𝐀/𝐍: This is very random, I wrote it during my break at work because I had a very stressful day. Hope you enjoy it!

𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐒: [MASTERLIST]🪓

It was more than a feeling that tormented him all night long, not giving him a chance to sleep properly. This searing sensation like an itching wound, it drove him crazy and eventually Patrick gave in, throwing the soft blanket aside and the next second he groaned as he looked down at his groin.

"Fucking bitch," Bateman hissed through his clenched teeth as he finally allowed himself to pull down the briefs that seemed to be too tight. "I'll watch you bleed one day, I swear," his panting mixed with barely audible curses. "Oh-fuck…"

Eyes shut tight, the man gripped himself and the mere contact with his hot flesh made him arch his back, his legs shaking from the tension as if he were about to combust. These obsessive thoughts of you were like a fucking plague he couldn't get rid of. But maybe he wasn't really trying, maybe wanking off to the thought of you was something special, something different from all the other times he jerked off watching porn or… Maybe he just couldn't stand that you didn't fall in love with him right away?

"Mmhm, you will beg me for this," Bateman's voice was getting raspier and raspier with every stroke, his movements bordering on desperation. Chewing on his lip, he ignored the way his pre-cum was literally gushing around the expensive sheets, a few drops running down his flat abdomen. But he didn't care. "You're gonna beg me like a whore…and I'm gonna spit in your face…in your so-fucking-beautiful face," his cock twitched in his grasp as he imagined that it was your hand jacking him off now, that it was you lying here next to him in his king-sized bed. "I-I need you…so fucking much," he almost whimpered, rolling onto his side to hide his face in the pillow. "Why can't I just stop thinking about you?! Why? WHY?"

Huffing, Patrick picked up the pace, his hand sliding up and down his shaft in an almost feverish desperation; the wet, obscene sounds were a clear indication of how much he needed this—needed you. At one point, the man was about to gnaw on the pillow as he imagined fucking you in missionary…or maybe doggy or maybe prone? How about you on top, bouncing on his thick dick, your eyebrows furrowed as his girth was mercilessly splaying you open? No way. This fantasy was too delightful, but Patrick couldn't concentrate on anything in particular—he wanted it all at once. Fucking you on his bed, on the floor, against the wall, then lifting you up and making you wrap your legs around his waist.

When the loud moan fell from his lips, he knew it wouldn't take long for him to cum. Crumpling the covers, Bateman thrust relentlessly into his hand as if his life depended on it. Missionary…he would fuck you like this because he wanted to see your face when he would sheath himself so deep inside you that you would have to shush yourself with your hand. But then you would become as needy as he was, your hand kneading his biceps, his broad back, gradually moving down to his firm ass to give it a squeeze and then a sharp slap.

"Arghh-fuck," he groaned into the pillow before slapping himself, only feeding his delusional fantasy, but holy shit, why did it feel so real? "Mmhg-you're going to be so full of my c-cum-fuck!"

Trembling like a leaf in the wind, Patrick exploded into his hand, but he didn't stop pumping himself, even though his hand was starting to hurt from the intensity of his movements. Flustered, covered in sweat and tears, he spilled himself on the sheets, but even when he was completely spent, the image of you was still so fresh and real inside his head. Your bratty voice teased him all over again and he could swear that one day he would really make you submit to his will, but now all he could do was lie alone in his perfect apartment and dream of that very moment he would share with you.

P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my writing community to know when I update!💞

#american psycho #patrick bateman x reader #patrick bateman imagine #patrick bateman #patrick bateman x female reader #patrick bateman x you #slasher x reader #slashers x reader #slasher x you #slasher smut #patrick bateman smut #patrick bateman headcanon #christian bale smut #christian bale x reader #patrick bateman reader #christian bale #patrick bateman imagines

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wandamaximoffsbadgirl · 16 hours ago

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Our Baby.

Best Friends!Wandanat x little!reader

Summary: Natasha and Wanda are best friends who have always only been that, but when you come crashing into their lives and take on the roles of caregiver will their relationship deepen?

Word Count: 1.4K

Warnings: Age Regression, mentions of stress and being overwhelmed, caregiver/regressor, fluffy, comfort

Authors note: I saw a post about two best friends being caregivers for someone and this happened sooooo let me know if you want more

Also, to all the littles, seeing this, please tred lightly on this blog! This is my big 18+ blog, but I do have some little!reader fics. Everything is marked accordingly!

Wanda and Natasha had been inseparable for years. The two women were practically extensions of one another, sharing a bond so deep that they didn’t think anyone could ever come between them. That is, until you came crashing into their lives—quite literally.

It had been a particularly hectic day in the city. You were rushing down the sidewalk, juggling your tote bag and a stack of books, when you collided headlong into two very sturdy figures. Hot liquid splashed everywhere, the unmistakable aroma of coffee filling the air.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!” you gasped, immediately dropping your things to grab napkins from your bag. You looked up, your wide, apologetic eyes meeting two startled, but intrigued, gazes.

Wanda smiled gently, already sensing the warmth and innocence radiating from you. “It’s alright. No harm done.”

Natasha, on the other hand, smirked, brushing coffee from her leather jacket. “You’ve got quite the impact for someone so small.”

Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment as you continued to stammer apologies, your hands nervously twisting the napkins. Something about their presence was overwhelming—but not in a bad way. It felt… safe, somehow.

That moment sparked the beginning of something neither Wanda nor Natasha had anticipated. They’d initially invited you out to lunch to reassure you that everything was fine. But one lunch turned into several, and soon, the two heroines found themselves eagerly waiting for your next meeting. You were sweet, playful, and endearing in a way they couldn’t quite describe.

Wanda and Natasha hadn’t immediately noticed your little tendencies. You were so good at masking that even they, two of the most observant people you’d ever met, didn’t put it all together right away. But over time, the signs began to show.

It started with little things. Like the time you fell asleep on their couch during a movie night. Wanda, ever the caregiver, went to drape a blanket over you and froze mid-motion. Your thumb was tucked in your mouth, and you were suckling softly in your sleep. She didn’t say anything at first, but the sight stuck with her.

Then there was your choice of drinkware. You always seemed to have colorful tumblers with cartoon characters on them. Wanda thought they were cute, but Natasha couldn’t help but tease you about your “sippy cups.” You only giggled nervously, brushing it off as something you just liked.

The biggest hint came the first time they asked you to spend the night unexpectedly. They could see the hesitation in your face before you shyly asked, “Can I go home to grab something first? I, um, I need my stuffie to sleep.” You didn’t elaborate, but they saw the soft blush dusting your cheeks as you avoided eye contact. Natasha, being Natasha, simply smirked and said, “Of course, detka. Everyone needs their comforts.”

But the moment of clarity came on a particularly stressful day for you. It had been weeks of mounting pressure from college—assignments, deadlines, and social obligations piling up until you couldn’t take it anymore. You showed up at their apartment in tears, unable to mask how overwhelmed you felt.

Wanda had just opened the door when you pushed past her, pacing in the living room. “Ish no fair!” you cried, your voice higher-pitched and trembling. “They ep ivin me too mush stuffs, an I an’t do it! I an’t—I no wanna!”

Wanda blinked, stunned for a moment before her motherly instincts kicked in. “Sweetheart,” she cooed, stepping closer. “Baby, hey, hey, it’s okay. Come here.” She gently guided you to the couch, her soothing voice and soft hands calming you just enough to sit down.

But as you tried to explain what was wrong, the words tumbled out in a way that surprised even you. “Ish so dumb! olege is too hard, an I just wan loler or wash toons. I no wan do big peoples stuff!” you wailed, curling up with your stuffie tightly clutched to your chest.

Natasha, who had been watching quietly, crouched in front of you. Her sharp, calculating gaze softened as she reached out to hold your hand. “Woah, those are some really big things to deal with, little one,” she said gently, her tone surprisingly tender. “Way too big for you to be thinking about, don’t you think?”

Wanda nodded, sitting beside you and rubbing your back. “Exactly. Mama and Daddy are here to take care of the big stuff, okay? You just focus on being our sweet little girl.”

You sniffled, looking up at them with wide, watery eyes. “Really?”

Natasha smiled, brushing a tear from your cheek. “Really. Let us handle it. You just stay small for us, alright?”

That was the day things changed. They didn’t just accept your regression—they embraced it wholeheartedly. From that point on, they made sure you always had a safe space to be yourself, no matter how little you felt.

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧

It had been a few months since Wanda and Natasha had fully embraced being your caregivers. Their small apartment had worked for a while, but it was quickly becoming clear that it wasn’t enough space for the three of you—especially when you regressed and wanted to run around or build blanket forts. Wanda had been the first to bring up the idea of moving, and Natasha, took the lead in making it happen.

Of course, they didn’t tell you right away. They wanted it to be a surprise.

One sunny afternoon, Wanda and Natasha took you on what they called a "special outing." You didn’t think much of it at first, happily clutching your favorite stuffed animal as they guided you out to the car. But as the drive continued and the scenery shifted from busy city streets to quiet suburban neighborhoods, your curiosity piqued.

“Where are we going?” you asked, bouncing slightly in your seat.

Wanda smiled from the passenger seat, turning to look at you. “You’ll see soon, baby. Be patient.”

Natasha smirked from the driver’s seat. “I think you’ll like it, detka. It’s a big surprise.”

When the car finally pulled into the driveway of a charming two-story house, your jaw dropped. The exterior was painted a deep, calming blue with crisp white accents, and there was a small front porch with enough room for a swing. The yard was spacious and inviting, with plenty of room for you to play.

Wanda stepped out first, holding her hand out for you. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s go take a look.” You held her hand, your stuffie in the other.

As soon as you stepped inside, you were in awe. The interior was just as beautiful as the outside, with a clean palette of whites and deep blues that felt cozy yet elegant. Your little heart couldn’t contain the excitement as you clutched your stuffed animal tighter, your eyes darting around the open spaces and tall ceilings.

“This is ours?” you squeaked, looking up at Wanda with wide eyes.

“Not yet,” she said with a soft laugh. “We’re still deciding, but we wanted you to see it first.”

Natasha smirked, already following the realtor as she walked through the house, discussing what changes could be made before moving in. “Go on, malen'kaya,” Natasha encouraged, nodding toward the hallway. “Explore a little.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. You darted off, your stuffie bouncing in your arms as you ran down the halls, peeking into each room. There was a large kitchen with an island perfect for baking cookies with Wanda, a spacious living room where Natasha would undoubtedly set up a big TV for movie nights, and upstairs, you found a bedroom that you just knew would be yours.

The house was perfect.

When you ran back to find Wanda and Natasha, they were standing in the living room with the realtor, discussing changes they’d like—adding a fence to the backyard for privacy, painting one of the upstairs bedrooms in softer, more playful tones, and installing blackout curtains in the master bedroom.

Natasha looked over as you skidded to a stop, a bright smile on her face. “What do you think, little one? Do you like it?”

“I love it!” you exclaimed, practically vibrating with excitement.

Wanda knelt down and cupped your cheek, her thumb brushing over your soft skin. “Good. Because this is going to be your new home, sweetheart. Somewhere safe and quiet, just for us.”

Tears pricked at your eyes as you threw your arms around her, your stuffie squished between you. Natasha joined the hug, wrapping her strong arms around the both of you.

“You two are the best,” you whispered, your voice muffled by Wanda’s shoulder.

“And you’re worth it, detka,” Natasha said softly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “This is just the beginning.”

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deusfoundry · 7 hours ago

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for your follower milestone event, how about hand kisses with zayne? it's literally cannon that he does it so MC all the time, which is SO CUTE, but how about a taste of his own medicine :D hand kisses hurt/comf, potentially relating to his evol/scars?

hand kisses with zayne

a/n: hello nonnie! sorry for the wait ehe i hope u like this!! its not as much hurt as it is comfort but we move ig hhejhsf thanks for sending in your request!! mwah!!

zayne doesn't flinch when he feels your hand inching towards his. he only smiles, the corners of his lips tugging on instinct. the feeling of it is familiar, smooth skin on his, something akin to being greeted by the cloudless skies on nights when his shift at the hospital would stretch far beyond usual working hours, but no less comforting. it peels back layers of stress from his already relaxed body, strips away any remnants of pain from his arm that keeps you seated on his lap.

he doesn't flinch when your hand slides off in favor of turning his over, so that his palm is facing upwards. your right cheek stays pressed against his chest as you trace along the lines of his palm. you follow each dip and curve, almost mindlessly, as if the lines are pathways, guides that lead you closer to his soul.

he doesn't flinch, even when your fingers trail up. they curl around his wrist, your touch loose and feather-like, and it sends a jolt of electricity down his spine. it tickles, oddly enough, but zayne remains perfectly still beneath you.

he's content with this, of being subject to your thoughtless ministrations. of utter silence save for the sound of dialogue between characters of a random show playing on the television. of peace, of you.

until your fingers drift to his scar, a shallow, healed gash that stretches down half the length of his forearm before it's abruptly cut off by one that wraps around his entire arm diagonally.

you notice the change in his demeanor right away. it's subtle, the way he tenses, like the freezing over of a pond once winter dawns. he's still one second, body taking slow and measured breaths in tandem with your fingers drawing on his skin, and frozen the next, muscles taut and pulled into knots. you feel the stuttering of his chest as he struggles to breathe in, and the erratic way in which he breathes out.

even then, in a moment of panic, he's considerate of you, quick to force his muscles to relax, his breathing to steady.

but this rare instance where the world pauses itself for you loses all meaning if zayne is like this, bothered and tense, and you're determined to make quick work of it.

"zayne?" one of your hands takes root on his chest, using it as leverage to push yourself up. it stays there, over where his lungs and his heart meet. part of your worries is quelled when the rise and fall of his chest takes upon a slow, steady rhythm.

"what's..." you trail off the moment your eyes flit towards your other hand. it's still there, resting on his forearm, and half a second passes by before it hits you.

both of your hands tentatively reach out, lowering just enough to take his right hand within yours. you cradle his hand with as much care as you can muster, touch almost ghost-like as you take hold of his fingers. you hope it's enough to say i'm here. it's alright, you pray he understands with each time your fingers run over his knuckles.

you take it a step further when he doesn't move, eyes merely glazed with curiosity over your actions, and bring his hand close to your lips.

you start off small, a peck over each fingertip, kisses that linger on his knuckles. your eyes remain locked on his to gauge how he reacts. following the path you took earlier with your fingers, you shift his hand around to plant one tender kiss over his wide palm, and another on his wrist.

finally, you reach the first of his scars.

there's a moment where zayne stiffens when your lips find the toughened skin. his breath catches, the tension leaves his body the further up you go, but he doesn't quite relax until you've pulled away to lock your fingers into his.

"i love you." you say, voice just above a whisper, as if a sound any louder would break this bubble surrounding you and zayne.

"and i love this." you trace one of his scars, finger slow and deliberate as you run the tip up and down the length of it before moving to another one. "and this," and another, "and this," and another, until you've mapped out all his scars like constellations.

"every part of you is beautiful, zayne." your voice drips with affection and care and everything that's too big to put into words, too all consuming to declare. you catch a silent look of gratitude on his face, his lips donning its earlier smile as you cup his cheek. "please never forget that.”

#zayne love and deepspace #love and deepspace #zayne x reader #zayne fluff #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace fluff #lnds x reader #lnds fluff #lnds zayne

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vibelladonna · 1 day ago

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✑ 𝓉𝓎𝓅𝑒 𝑜𝒻 𝒷𝑜𝓎𝒻𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓃𝒹 𝜗𝜚 𝑔𝑒𝑜

· ─────── ⋆⋅♤⋅⋆ ─────── ·

Geo has officially become my second favorite character in Tkatb. As an asexual person writing about another asexual-coded character, I have to say—he makes me feel seen. It’s like he literally can’t take his eyes off me (and let’s face it, with Geo, that’s more intense than romantic).

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

But let’s be serious: I love him platonically. Sorry Brittany.

So, of course, I’ll share my headcanons about Geo, some shared by other fans, and even a few from the game’s lore. And no, before you ask, I won’t be writing about Sol in this “Type of Boyfriend” trope. He’s the obvious main choice in the game, and countless talented writers have already explored that lane.

Geo, however? His quiet, unsettling stares deserve its moment in the spotlight.

Okay, so let’s talk about Geo as a boyfriend. First of all, congratulations on making that happen. Like, seriously, how did you pull it off?

Because let’s be real, Geo is not the type to just open his heart to anyone. This man’s walls are practically made of steel, and I’m sure it took some serious patience, persistence, and probably some sorcery to get him to even consider letting you in.

But hey, you did it. So now you’ve got yourself the most stoic, broody, and incredibly hot boyfriend. So let’s break it down!

✑ The Silent Observer

Like said, getting close to Geo? Oh man, that was like trying to break into a vault without the code. And let’s be honest, at first, you probably weren’t even trying to get to him—he just happened to be standing there while you were hanging out with Crowe. But of course, Geo being Geo, he’d hit you with those cold, piercing stares that made you question every single life choice.

And don’t even get me started on his bluntness. He’s the definition of the strong, silent type. He only speaks when he thinks something needs to be said, which means you’re never getting any filler or small talk from him. It’s not that he’s rude—he just values words and doesn’t see the point in wasting them.

He’d just say it. Straight up. No filter.

However, he does talk—pretty much one sentence though, it’s worth listening to because you’ll quickly realize how sharp he is. Geo’s intelligence and observant nature are on another level too…

The kind of observant where he notices *everything*. He’s like that one friend who knows all the drama without ever saying a word. While Brittany would spill the tea loudly and proudly, Geo keeps it all locked away in that steel trap of a brain. He’s always watching, analyzing, and probably always two steps ahead. It’s part of what makes him such a great strategist but also why he’s so cautious about trusting anyone.

So, instead of running for the hills like most people would, you stayed. And that’s probably what made him start noticing you. You didn’t back off, didn’t try to change him, just kind of… stuck around.

Geo doesn’t do well with people who push or pry, so the fact that you respected his space but still showed up? Yeah, that got to him. Even if he’d never admit it out loud.

What’s wild is that he notices everything. Stuff you didn’t even realize about yourself? Yeah, he’s clocked it already. He’s the kind of guy who remembers your favorite drink, the way you twirl your hair when you’re stressed, or even the exact date you mentioned something offhand weeks ago. It’s almost unsettling how much he takes in, but it’s also one of the ways he shows how much he cares.

He’s not the type to constantly shower you with compliments or grand gestures, but his quiet, steady presence speaks volumes. Geo’s the guy who will fix something for you before you even realize it’s broken or offer exactly what you need without you having to ask.

And when he does open up or say something heartfelt? You know it’s real because he doesn’t just say things lightly.

✑ Low-key Romantic

Okay, let’s get real—Geo is not the type to wear his heart on his sleeve. If anything, he’s probably got it locked up in a box somewhere with a “Do Not Disturb” sign slapped on it. But here’s the thing: when Geo cares, he cares. Like, no half-measures.

Once he lets someone in—which is a feat on its own—you have his full, unwavering loyalty. And let’s be honest, why would Geo want anyone else? He’s not the type to hop from person to person—when he chooses you, he chooses you.

I’m pulling his asexual card here because it just fits. Geo isn’t about flashy romance or grand declarations. For him, love isn’t in the words or PDA—mind you he HATES PDA—it’s in the quiet, consistent ways he shows up for you. He wouldn’t just call you his partner; he’d treat you like you’re the most important person in his life, even if he doesn’t say it outright.

And the way he shows his affection? It’s all in the details. Geo is hyper-observant—he probably knows you better than you know yourself.

Again, he’ll pick up on the smallest things, like how you take your coffee or tea, the way your eyes light up when you’re excited, or how you’re always talking about that one book or game you’re obsessed with. And he’ll use that information to make your day in ways that feel effortless.

Expect random, thoughtful surprises. Maybe your favorite snacks just happen to appear on your desk when you’re having a rough day, or you’ll find tickets to that movie you’ve been dying to see in your bag without him saying a word. He’s not going to make a big deal about it either—he’ll just shrug it off like it’s no big deal, but deep down, he’s paying attention to every detail that makes you you.

Geo’s love language is subtle, sure, but it’s also steady and reliable.

You won’t always see it coming, but you’ll feel it in the way he’s always quietly there for you, no matter what.

✑ Protective But Not Overbearing

Oh, Geo’s hella protective—like, protective to the point where you know he’s got your back no matter what. But don’t think for a second he’s the clingy or overbearing type. Nah, that’s not his style.

He’s more of a silent sentinel kind of guy, keeping a close eye on everything while letting you do your thing. He trusts you to handle yourself, and honestly? That trust speaks volumes. He knows you’re capable, and he’s not about to baby you or hover like some overprotective shadow.

But let’s get one thing straight—if someone crosses the line with you? Game over. Geo might seem calm and composed most of the time, but when it comes to defending you, that sharp tongue of his comes out swinging.

And let’s not forget the fact that he’s an archer. I’m just saying, if someone pushes too far, they’d better pray they’re not anywhere near a target. He wouldn’t need to say much—one cold glare, one well-aimed shot at a bullseye, and everyone around would get the message.

What’s even better is that Geo doesn’t make a scene about it. He’s not the type to start unnecessary drama or puff up his chest to prove something. He’ll shut down any nonsense with a few carefully chosen words or, if it comes to it, an intimidating presence that leaves no room for argument.

He’s protective, yeah, but it’s in this quiet, no-nonsense way that just makes you feel safe without feeling suffocated.

And honestly? That balance is rare. He’s like your personal bodyguard without the need for the over-the-top theatrics. It’s not about control—it’s about making sure you know you’re valued and looked out for.

And for Geo, that’s everything.

✑ A Hidden Heart

Geo’s not the type to be up in your face 24/7. Nah, for him, it’s all about quality over quantity. He’s perfectly fine with spending an hour sitting next to you in total silence, maybe reading or just walking side by side.

You don’t even have to talk—he’s not big on words anyway. It’s the connection that matters to him, not the setting or how much time you spend together.

To Geo, a quiet moment shared between just the two of you means more than any loud party or over-the-top date night ever could.

Now, let’s talk about Geo’s bluntness. We all know he’s sharp-tongued, unfiltered, and way too honest for his own good. It’s kind of his thing. But when it comes to you? That edge softens, and he tries—tries being the keyword here—to rein it in. He’s still going to tell you exactly what he thinks because, let’s be real, that’s just who he is.

But with you, he’ll make the effort to phrase things more gently. You’re one of the very few people who gets that version of him, and let’s be honest, that’s kind of special. You get to see the side of him that’s not all sharp remarks and icy glares, the side that actually cares.

And while Geo might seem like this stoic, broody guy who doesn’t let anything faze him, he’s secretly a total softie when it comes to you. Again, he’s not going to smother you with hugs or drown you in words of comfort when you’re upset—that’s not his style. He’s not like Crowe T-T.

But he’ll be there.

Sitting beside you when you’re crying, quietly handing you tissues, letting you lean on his shoulder without a word. He listens, like really listens, and you can feel his presence grounding you even when he doesn’t say much.

It’s not that Geo doesn’t care—he just shows it in his own way. A quiet walk, a softened tone, a steady shoulder to lean on. With Geo, love isn’t loud or flashy. It’s steady, subtle, and completely genuine.

✑ Tailored to You

Geo and the five love languages? Well… Spoiler alert: this man is low-key okay at all of them, even if he’ll never admit it.

— Words of Affirmation?

So… Compliments? Yeah, don’t hold your breath. He’s not going to gush about how you’re the most incredible person on the planet.

But when he does say something nice? Oh, it means something. If Geo tells you, “That was impressive,” just know he’s basically screaming, “I’m so proud of you” on the inside. And if you ever compliment him? Expect a half-hearted shrug and a muttered, “I guess,” but deep down, you know he’s preening like a cat that just caught a mouse.

— Acts of Service?

This is where Geo shines. He’s not going to say, “I love you” outright, but he’ll carry your bag, or make sure you’re eating when you’ve had a rough day.

Dating Geo means having someone who sees you, even when you think no one else does. He’s a protector, a confidant, and someone who keeps things real—all wrapped up in a broody, mysterious package.

Need something heavy moved? Done. Can’t open a jar? No problem. He’s like a one-man life support system, quietly taking care of you while pretending it’s no big deal.

— Receiving Gifts?

Geo doesn’t do flashy gifts, but when he gives you something? It’s weirdly specific and thoughtful. Like, you’ll casually mention liking a certain anything once, and boom—it’s sitting in front of your door the next day. He’ll pretend it’s not a big deal, though. “Oh, I just saw it at the store,” he’ll say, even though you know he went out of his way to get it.

— Quality Time?

This one is Geo’s bread and butter. He’s all about meaningful moments. Forget big group hangouts or extravagant plans—he’d rather spend a quiet evening with you, just existing in the same space. You could be doing something as mundane as grocery shopping, and he’d still find a way to make it feel special. And if you’re both just sitting in silence, reading or scrolling on your phones? That’s peak romance for him.

— Physical Touch?

All right, let’s be real—Geo isn’t big on touchy-feely stuff. He’s the type to freeze up if someone hugs him unexpectedly. But with you? He warms up to it. He’s still awkward as hell at first, but over time, he’ll start initiating small touches—a hand on your shoulder, brushing hair out of your face, or even holding your hand when no one’s looking. And if you hug him? He’ll grumble about it, but he secretly loves it.

In conclusion? Geo’s love language is basically Geo Language—quiet, understated, and 100% tailored to you. He’s not going to shout his feelings from the rooftops, but if you pay attention, his actions scream, “You’re my person, and I’m not letting you go.”

✑ Tailored to Him

So you wanna know Geo’s love languages? As unique as he is and if we had to rank them, here’s the holy trinity that makes this stoic archer tick:

Geo is an independent guy, but even the most self-sufficient people need someone who understands them. He craves someone who respects his need for space but knows when to step in with the right kind of support.

— Acts of Service (His #1, obviously)

Geo isn’t the type to ask for help—he’s too independent for that. But when you step in and do something thoughtful for him without being asked?

That’s how you win this man over.

He’s got this quiet appreciation for when people notice the little things, like brewing him tea when he’s had a rough day or cleaning up his gear after practice. Bonus points if you surprise him with something related to his hobbies, like a rare Japanese opera recording or a new pot for one of his plants. Acts of service show him that you’re paying attention, and trust me, he notices.

— Quality Time

Geo doesn’t want loud, over-the-top outings or big social gatherings. In fact, the less noise and chaos, the better. What he really craves is quiet, intentional moments with someone who just gets him.

Sitting together in a cozy home, tending to his potted plants, or watching the intricate art of shadow puppetry—these are the things that speak to his soul. Geo thrives in these quiet spaces where he can relax, reflect, and enjoy meaningful companionship.

Just don’t interrupt if he’s hyper-focused on something. He’ll side-eye you into another dimension.

— Receiving Gifts

Okay, hear me out—Geo hates getting gifts, right? I mean, he literally burned the random Valentine’s Day presents people gave him that one time. Absolute menace behavior, but honestly? It’s kind of funny in a this-man-does-not-care way. But here’s the twist: Geo’s not against all gifts. He’s just very particular.

See, he doesn’t want over-the-top, flashy stuff. No giant teddy bears, love letters, heart-shaped balloons, or anything that screams “cliché.” If you even think about giving him something generic, he’ll give you that deadpan look that could shrivel your soul. However, thoughtful, personalized gifts?

That’s a whole different story.

Picture this: you show up with a sleek, modern pot for one of his beloved plants, or maybe a rare variety of seeds that he hasn’t gotten his hands on yet. Geo would never say it out loud, but inside? He’s lowkey impressed. Or let’s say you score him tickets to a Japanese opera—something you know he’d appreciate but would never bother getting for himself. Now, that would leave him quietly staring at you like, “…You actually get me.”

And don’t even get me started on shadow puppetry. If you found a book about advanced techniques or a vintage lamp to use for creating the perfect shadows? You’d probably see the faintest flicker of a smile—like, barely there, but it counts.

With Geo, it’s not about spending a ton of money or going big. It’s about showing that you know him—that you’ve paid attention to his quirks, his hobbies, and the things that make him tick. When the gift reflects his personality and interests?

That’s when you see the softer side of him, the part of him that’s secretly thinking, “How did I end up with someone like this?”

And yeah, he might not say that, because Geo and verbal affection are basically strangers. But the way he takes care of that plant pot or treasures that opera ticket?

That’ll tell you everything you need to know.

✑ Cultural Depth

Geo’s all about his Japanese roots, but he doesn’t go around making a big deal about it. It’s in the small things—the quiet traditions he carries, the way he’ll casually drop some next-level cultural knowledge.

— Sharing His World (Quietly)

Geo isn’t the type to throw you into the deep end of his culture, but if you hang around him long enough, he’ll start to let you in. It’s like a slow reveal in a really good book—you don’t even realize you’re getting hooked until you’re deep into it.

He’ll start small, teaching you a word or two in Japanese. Nothing too complicated at first—basic phrases like arigatou or ohayou. God writing this is killing me…

But if you’re patient (and don’t butcher the pronunciation), he might hit you with the poetic, meaningful stuff. Like, “The moon tonight reminds me of home,” kind of poetic.

And food? Oh, he’s low-key a food snob, but in the best way. If he takes you out for sushi, don’t embarrass him by drowning it in soy sauce, okay? He might roll his eyes, but deep down, he’ll think you’re a lost cause.

Bonus points if you ask him to show you how to make something traditional, though. Watching him calmly explain how to roll onigiri while being so exact about it? Weirdly cute.

— Secret Nerd Side

Geo doesn’t advertise it, but he has a soft spot for traditional Japanese arts. Shadow puppetry? Yeah, that’s a thing he knows. He won’t just show you for fun, though—you’ll have to ask and even then, it’s going to be, like, the most casual display ever. He’ll make a crane with his hands in the middle of a quiet moment, the shadow falling perfectly on the wall, and act like it’s no big deal.

Meanwhile, you’re sitting there, wondering if he’s secretly an 80-year-old trapped in a hot college guy’s body.

Oh, and don’t even get him started on Japanese opera. It’s his go-to when he needs to vibe or think. You might catch him with his headphones in, looking all stoic, and he’s probably listening to something hauntingly beautiful and dramatic. But good luck getting him to admit it.

✑ Such Spa Days

If there’s one thing you should know about Geo, it’s that he takes self-care very seriously. This man isn’t just about keeping clean—he’s practically the ambassador of flawless skin. His routine is a whole event, and don’t even think about interrupting it unless you want to be met with one of his signature cold stares.

Geo’s all about precision, from his perfectly tied low ponytail to his smooth, glowing complexion that looks like it came straight out of a skincare ad. He’s the guy who has a shelf full of serums, toners, face masks, and creams, all neatly organized by purpose and ingredient list. Oh, and he definitely uses products with names you can’t pronounce but that sounds expensive. He’s from the rich side of the society anyway…

Sunday nights? They’re sacred. You’ll find Geo in full spa mode, complete with a fluffy towel draped over his shoulders and maybe even some calming Japanese opera music playing softly in the background. He’ll light a candle (something subtle, probably sandalwood or green tea) and go through his routine like it’s a religious ceremony. Cleansing, exfoliating, masking—he’s got it all down to a science.

And don’t get him started on baths. Geo’s baths are an experience. He’ll fill the tub with just the right temperature water, toss in some herbal bath salts or a soothing bath bomb, and relax like he’s starring in a luxurious retreat commercial. He even has a book propped up nearby or maybe a cup of tea to complete the vibe.

The best part? Geo’s love for spa days isn’t just about himself—it’s an extension of his personality. He values control and discipline, and his skincare routine is a reflection of that. Every step, every product, is carefully chosen because it’s his way of staying grounded in a chaotic world.

Now, if you’re lucky enough to be part of his life, he might invite you into his sacred self-care space. Don’t expect anything over the top, though. Geo’s not going to gush about it, but he’ll casually hand you a face mask or suggest a product he thinks you’ll like. It’s his way of saying, “I care,” without actually saying it.

But be warned—if you touch his stuff without asking, he’ll probably give you a look that could freeze fire. He’s protective of his skincare collection, and for good reason. You’ll never forget the day you used his serum without permission and had to endure a five-minute lecture about “proper application techniques” while he looked genuinely offended.

Now, let’s get one thing straight: Geo’s devotion to skincare doesn’t just stop with himself. Oh no, if you’re doing it wrong, he will notice—and he will step in.

Say you’re casually applying his skincare collection one day, just slapping it on like it’s sunscreen at the beach. Geo, from across the room, will stop dead in his tracks, narrow his aquamarine eyes, and calmly say, “What are you doing?” in a tone that sends shivers down your spine. Before you can even protest, he’s already approaching with that look—the one that says, “I didn’t want to get involved, but you’ve left me no choice.”

Geo doesn’t offer to fix your skincare routine; he takes over. He’s not the type to sugarcoat it either. “You’re wasting product,” he’ll mutter, carefully squeezing the perfect amount of serum onto his fingertips before gently patting it into your skin. “And you’re supposed to press it in, not rub it like you’re sanding wood.”

And honestly? He’s ridiculously good at it. His hands are steady, his movements precise, and for someone who doesn’t talk much, he somehow explains every step with just enough detail to make you realize how little you knew about skincare to begin with.

Geo is not one for half-measures, so don’t be surprised when he starts rearranging your entire routine. Suddenly, you’ve got a multi-step process you never asked for, complete with double cleansing, toners, serums, and a nightly mask rotation. You didn’t even know what a niacinamide serum was before, but now you have one, and you’re using it correctly, thank you very much.

The funniest part? Geo never complains about doing your skincare. He acts mildly exasperated, sure, but you catch the tiniest flicker of pride when your skin starts glowing like his.

And while he’d never admit it out loud, he secretly likes having an excuse to take care of you. It’s his way of showing he cares without all that messy emotional talk.

But if you dare to slack off? Oh, you’ll hear about it. “You didn’t put on sunscreen today, did you?” he’ll ask, his tone low and judgmental as he crosses his arms. “Don’t come crying to me when you age prematurely.” And yet, despite all the teasing, he’ll still hand you his favorite SPF because, deep down, he can’t stand the idea of you not taking care of yourself.

At the end of the day, Geo’s skincare obsession isn’t just about looking good—it’s about discipline, self-respect, and now, begrudgingly, making sure you’re glowing just as much as he is.

In the end, Geo’s love for spa days isn’t just a quirky habit—it’s part of what makes him who he is. It’s his way of maintaining balance, staying composed, and, let’s be honest, looking damn good while doing it.

✑ So Damn Competitive

Don’t let Geo’s stoic, “I’m too cool to care” vibe fool you—this man is surprisingly competitive. Like, you’d think someone who’s all about calm and control wouldn’t get riled up over a board game, right? Wrong. The moment you pull out a board game or even a deck of Uno cards, you’re witnessing a transformation. Same too…

Geo doesn’t just play to win—he plays to crush. He’s not loud about it, though. Oh no, Geo’s trash talk is subtle but devastating. “That’s an… interesting move,” he’ll say, his aquamarine eyes glinting with quiet smugness as he places his piece exactly where it’ll ruin your entire strategy. And let’s not even get started on trivia night. This man has an encyclopedic knowledge of random facts, and he’ll flex it in the most deadpan way possible.

But here’s the best part: Geo will let you win sometimes—just don’t expect him to admit it. He’ll subtly fumble a move in Jenga or conveniently “forget” the answer to a question during trivia, all while keeping that unreadable poker face. If you call him out on it? “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he’ll say, completely straight-faced, as if he didn’t just let the tower fall on purpose.

The funniest part is how petty he can get when he doesn’t win. Like, say you beat him in a cooking challenge (because your pancakes were objectively fluffier). He won’t throw a fit, but you’ll catch him side-eyeing your plate like it personally offended him. “Your syrup-to-pancake ratio is off,” he might mutter under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear.

But his competitive streak isn’t all bad—it’s actually kind of adorable. If you’re struggling with something, Geo will quietly make it his mission to help you improve.

Trying to get better at a sport? Let’s use Kyūdō, in other words, the Japanese martial art of archery. It started as you’d expect—Geo, all serious and instructor-like, standing behind you to adjust your posture, his hands steady as they guided yours. “Hold it like this,” he’d say, his tone calm and precise. You could tell he was in his element, and honestly?

He’s kind of hot when he gets all focused like that.

At first, you weren’t great. The arrows went everywhere except the target and Geo’s quiet sighs of exasperation were hilarious. But instead of getting frustrated, he’d patiently explain what you were doing wrong, occasionally muttering things like, “It’s not that hard,” under his breath.

But then something shifted. One day, it just clicked. Suddenly, your arrows weren’t just hitting the target—they were landing dead center.

Every. Single. Time.

Geo’s reaction? Priceless. He didn’t say anything at first, but you could feel his aquamarine eyes narrowing as he watched your shots. “Beginner’s luck,” he muttered, crossing his arms.

Except it wasn’t luck. You kept getting better. So much better, in fact, that you started beating him.

The first time it happened, you expected him to be annoyed. But instead, he just stared at the target, then at you, and said, “You’ve been practicing without me.” (Spoiler: You hadn’t.)

From then on, Geo challenges you to little games—first one to hit three bullseyes, trick shots, you name it. And every time you won, you’d catch that subtle crease in his brow like he couldn’t quite believe it.

But despite his bruised ego, Geo was secretly proud of you. You’d catch him smiling—just barely—when you weren’t looking, and if anyone else tried to challenge you? Oh, he’d brag like crazy. “She’s the best shot here,” he’d say, completely deadpan, like he wasn’t lowkey sulking about the fact that you’d surpassed him.

Watching Geo try to outshoot you while pretending he wasn’t bothered was half the fun, you know it’s eating him up inside. “Good game,” he’ll say, his tone perfectly neutral, while internally plotting his revenge for next time.

It’s all part of the charm, though.

✑ You’re His Safe Space

Okay, I know—Geo and PDA? They’re not exactly besties. He’s not the guy to be all over you in public; in fact, he hates it.

Holding hands? Brings too much attention.

Kisses in front of people? Absolutely not.

He’s got that whole “reserved and composed” thing going on, and the idea of being openly mushy in front of others? Yeah, hard pass.

But here’s the plot twist: when it’s just the two of you? Total cling mode.

When Geo’s guard is down, he’s secretly so affectionate it’s almost like a plot twist you didn’t see coming. Imagine this: you’re just minding your own business—maybe reading, scrolling on your phone, or binge-watching something—and out of nowhere, you feel his arms snake around you. He doesn’t say a word; he just pulls you close, resting his chin on your shoulder or burying his face in your hair like it’s his personal safe haven.

It’s his way of saying, “You’re my peace,” without actually having to string the words together. Subtle? Yes. Effective? Absolutely.

Geo isn’t heartless—not by a long shot. He cares so much, he just doesn’t always know how to package those feelings into neat little boxes with bows on top. He’s the type to skip the love letters and dramatic proclamations and go straight to showing you how much you mean to him.

Actions over words, always.

And okay, let’s be real—some of us can relate to that. Maybe feelings aren’t the easiest thing to express, so we see a bit of ourselves in Geo. It’s not that he’s cold or distant; he’s just navigating his emotions in his own quiet way. And when he finally lets his guard down? That’s when you see his true colors.

After pulling you close, Geo turns you around, his hands lingering gently on your arms. His touch is feather-light, deliberate, as though he’s giving you a moment to realize what’s happening. He pauses, his fingers brushing against your lips in a way that sends a quiet thrill down your spine.

His eyes lock onto yours for a heartbeat—then they drop to your lips, lingering there just long enough for you to feel the tension in the air. When his gaze meets yours again, there’s something unspoken in his expression, a question he doesn’t need to say out loud: Is this okay?

And then, he leans in. It’s not rushed or overly dramatic; it’s a simple, slow movement like he wants to savor every second. His lips meet yours softly at first, testing, then growing a little firmer as he presses closer. It’s the kind of kiss that says a thousand things he wouldn’t dare put into words—trust, vulnerability, and a quiet kind of devotion he’s still figuring out how to show.

When he pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, his breath warm and steady as he lingers there for a moment. It’s like time stops, and nothing else matters except the two of you in that little bubble of intimacy.

Geo’s not about grand gestures or big, romantic speeches. But this? This is his way of telling you everything. His actions speak volumes, and each small touch, each lingering look, is filled with a kind of tenderness that words could never capture.

And maybe that’s the most Geo thing about him—he doesn’t need to shout his love from rooftops or drown you in cliché romance. Instead, he gives you moments like this. Moments that feel raw, honest, and entirely yours. Moments where he silently tells you, “You’re my world,” without ever saying a word.

Trust me, it’s worth the wait.

✑ Flaws? There’s a few…

Now nobody’s perfect—not even our polished, broody archer. Geo’s got his fair share of flaws, and honestly? They add to his charm in that I-don’t-know-why-I-like-this-but-I-do kind of way.

First of all, he’s stubborn as hell. Geo’s stubbornness could rival a brick wall and spoiler: you’re not winning an argument against him. Once his mind is made up, that’s it—game over. Whether it’s something as simple as how to fold laundry (he has a system) or something as big as life choices, he sticks to his guns like they’re glued to him.

Convincing him to budge? Good luck; you’ll need it.

Second, he doesn’t believe in second chances. Mess up once, and that’s it—you’re done. Geo’s not the type to forgive and forget; it’s more like, “You did what? Cool, don’t let the door hit you on the way out.” He’s incredibly selective about who he lets in, so if someone breaks his trust, they’re out for good.

It’s harsh, but for Geo, it’s about protecting himself.

Third, picky with a Capital P. Geo’s the kind of person who knows exactly what he wants, and if something doesn’t meet his standards? Nope. He’s picky about everything—his appearance (always flawless), his environment (no mess, no chaos), and even the people he surrounds himself with.

If you’re lucky enough to pass his “quality control,” congrats, you’ve made it to the inner circle.

Lastly, Geo’s got walls on walls. He’s not about to open up to just anyone, and even once he does, it’s a slow process. He’s constantly watching, analyzing, and second-guessing people’s intentions. It takes someone special to get through that, and even then, he might still keep certain things locked away.

So, What Does This All Mean?

Geo’s flaws can make him seem intimidating and hard to approach, but they’re also part of what makes him so uniquely him. His stubbornness shows his determination, and his lack of second chances highlights how much he values loyalty and his pickiness. Well, it’s just another way he shows that he’s got high standards—whether for himself or the people around him.

At the end of the day, Geo’s trust issues are a double-edged sword. They make him fiercely loyal to the people he *does* trust, but they also mean it takes a long time for him to get there.

Still, if you’ve made it into his inner circle, congrats—you’re probably one of the few people he truly feels safe with. And that? That’s priceless.

Is he perfect? Nope.

But would we want him any other way? Not.

✑ Thoughts + Ranting

Okay, let’s get this out of the way again: Geo has serious trust issues. And honestly? Can you blame the guy? He’s been through (we don’t know about) so much that his walls aren’t just up—they’re basically a fortress complete with a moat, a drawbridge, and probably a dragon or two guarding the gate.

Here’s the deal: nobody really knows Geo. Like, we know he’s loaded, he’s ridiculously good with a bow, and he has a death glare that could probably stop traffic. But beyond that? Nothing. It’s like his life story is classified information, and we’re all just stuck guessing what’s in the classified files.

So anyway, Geo used to be High Class—fancy, untouchable, the whole package—but then bam some kind of near-accident happened, and he got booted down to the Low-Class building. Can you imagine the whiplash? Going from being at the top of the food chain to the bottom? That kind of thing doesn’t just bruise your ego; it leaves emotional scars.

And let’s be real, Geo doesn’t exactly strike me as the type to sit down and talk about his feelings and thoughts.

And then there’s Hyugo, Geo’s stepbrother and certified mortal enemy.

If you’ve played the game, you already know the vibes. Mention Hyugo’s name around Geo, and boom—instant disgust. Like, man doesn’t even try to hide it. His whole face scrunches up like he just smelled expired milk. And then, he hits you with the classic, “Nope, we’re not talking about that.” No explanation, no backstory, just vibes. It’s lowkey hilarious how much he’s committed to pretending Hyugo doesn’t even exist. For me.

I feel like Hyugo has something to do with Geo’s big fall from High Class. Like, maybe Hyugo was the one who caused whatever accident messed up Geo’s status. Was it on purpose? Was it an accident? Who knows! But Geo clearly decided, “Yeah, you’re dead to me.” Now, the name “Hyugo” might as well be a four-letter word in Geo’s dictionary.

And then there’s Crowe—the only person Geo actually trusts. And you know that didn’t happen overnight. Crowe probably had to work overtime, chipping away at Geo’s defenses like he was mining for gold. It was probably like:

Crowe: “Hey, let’s be friends.” Geo: Stares in suspicion for six months straight. Crowe: “Alright, cool, I’ll wait.”

If it took Crowe that long to get through, what does that mean for literally anyone else? Good luck, because Geo ain’t handing out trust like candy.

Now, let’s talk about you. Geo doesn’t say much to you, but the way he just… stares at you? Constantly? It’s like he’s trying to solve some crime scene in his head and you’re the number-one suspect. You’re just standing there like, “Uh, did I do something wrong? Or do I just look suspicious?”

Honestly, it’s so awkward and funny. Like, dude, either spill whatever you need to say or stop looking at me like that. But nah, Geo’s gonna stay quiet, because why use words when you can silently judge someone instead?

That’s the Geo experience in a nutshell.

Maybe he doesn’t trust you because of something to do with Crowe—like, maybe he thinks you’re toying with Crowe’s feelings ouch, judgmental much?. Or—plot twist—he’s onto something way bigger. What if he already knows you’re being stalked by whatever creepy thing is lurking in the shadows, and he’s just keeping tabs to figure out why it’s after you?

Who knows?

But here’s the thing about Geo: in the game, he’s not super complicated to figure out. He’s more of a supporting character—like that mysterious friend everyone secretly simps for but who tragically isn’t dateable. Pain. He’s just this quiet, chill dude with sharp words, killer aim, and a ponytail that probably smells like fancy shampoo. And somehow, he’s still everyone’s type. Go figure.

So yeah, Geo’s like a locked box made of solid silver—fancy, mysterious, and absolutely refusing to open. Respect the whole “keeping it classy” vibe, but come on, man—just crack the lid a little!

We’re starving for answers!

· ─────── ⋆⋅♤⋅⋆ ─────── ·

#the kid at the back x reader #tkatb vn #tkatb geo #geo oogami #subaru oogami #the kid at the back vn #tkatb #tkatb head canons #the kid at the back head canons

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tswwwit · 2 days ago

Text

Here's a stupid meet-the-sibling thing from Portal AU!

Dipper checks his watch for the third time in two minutes, foot tapping nervously against the pavement. Mabel’s usually one to run late, but not this late.

Twenty minutes have passed since they were supposed to meet up at this coffee shop, and between the fact that his twin’s always eager to see him, and the odd magical blips on his radar in the last hour, he’s starting to wonder if she’s gotten herself in trouble. Again.

Driven by worry, he checks his phone again - the regular one. No texts, no missed calls. A second check shows nothing on his other phone either, which is arguably just as worrying but for different reasons.

Dipper slumps back in his seat, rubbing at his eyes.

Great. Exactly what he needed. As if this whole conversation wasn’t going to be weird enough, now he’s got more to stress about. A sister in trouble, maybe, and a magical incident, probably. Not to mention who would obviously get involved with one of those, just to add the cherry on top of a messed up situation.

He’s just about decided to get up and start investigating when he hears the shout.

“Dipper!”

Jerking up from his seat, Dipper turns towards his sister’s voice.

Mabel runs down the sidewalk, arms raised and waving wildly, sending her bracelets banging against each other as her earrings bounce along with her steps. She doesn’t slow down as she approaches, instead throwing herself forward until Dipper has to catch her hug with an ‘oof’ of effort.

He hugs her back in response and gets squeezed so hard it nearly takes the breath out of him, including a brief moment where he’s worried that her earrings will catch on his clothes.

After a moment he pushes her back, smiling. How long has it been since he’s seen her in person? Four months? Five? From the occasional phone call he knew she was doing well, but it’s good to see her looking so happy in person.

“It’s good to see you.” He gives her a big pat on the back, and gets a ‘bwomp bwomp’ in return.

“You too, bro-bro.” Mabel steps away, then blinks in surprise. “You look great! Is that a new look?” She gives him a once over, then beams, patting her cheeks. “Oh my gosh, that’s perfect timing!”

“Well, I-” Dipper plucks at his shirt - it’s not that different from his usual, just better fitted.

So, he may or may not have gotten a lecture on fashion. A very long one. Followed by several insistent recommendations about his outfits, including having a literal pile of clothes dumped on him out of nowhere. He didn’t think it made that big a difference. But maybe it does?

“Okay, okay, I know you had something important you wanted to talk about, but listen.” Mabel rushes to speak, bubbling over with enthusiasm. Dipper lets her take his hands and clasp them tight as she bounces in place. “I just met. The hottest guy.”

“Ugh,” Dipper groans, shoulders slumping. Not another shitty crush. He thought she was over those by now. Still, if it puts his own thing off… “What kind of jerk is it this time?”

“Okay, one? Not a jerk! And two: He’s not for me, you dork!”

“Wait, what?” Dipper holds her at arm’s length, staring.

“So like I said,” Mabel continues, giving him a Look. “I met this guy, and we got to talking, and he’s, like, super fun - but clearly into dudes. So I sorta mentioned a certain brother, and guess what! He likes magic, and monsters, and he even says he has a thing for nerds!” She lowers her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “It’s perfect. You’ll love him.”

With another groan, Dipper drags a palm down his face.

Damn it. He knows that she worries about him finding someone since he’s always on the move. Between trying to keep up with the jobs, and tracking monsters, and everything else in his life, he rarely has time for a break. Mabel playing matchmaker isn’t new. Only her choice of candidate, which sounds strangely.. On point?

Hell, a while ago - less than two months, at that - he might have welcomed an intro to this guy, whoever it is. It wasn’t like he was meeting a lot of people himself.

But oh god. The timing.

“Look, I’m glad you thought of me, but-” Dipper starts, holding up his hands in defense.

“Oh no. Nope! No more of this ‘too busy’, or ‘probably not my type’ stuf. I vetted him Dipper,” Mabel insists, lower lip pouting out - oh god, the puppy eyes, he has to turn away - “You’re on the road all the time and all alone all the time. So if you aren’t gonna try and meet someone, I gotta have your back.”

Dipper tilts his head back, shuts his eyes, and prays deep down for strength.

He didn’t want to open with this information. It’s a pretty long story, one with a lot of twists and turns, even some bits that she’s going to feel very ‘I knew it!!’ about. But a little sisterly smugness is way, way better than getting dragged into a date with some guy.

Even if Dipper turns it down first thing, it could end… Pretty badly.

He opens his mouth to say so, and gets interrupted by hands clapping on his face, forcing him to meet her eyes.

“Oh my god, don’t look now.” She whispers, turning him back to look at her when his head instinctively swivels. “But he’s right here. I didn’t think he’d show up this soon!”

“Why shouldn’t I look at the guy you’re trying to hook me up with.” He says, flat. It comes out a bit garbled from the pressure on his cheeks.

“Because you’ll freak out thinking he’s out of your league! And he’s not!” Mabel insists, shaking him urgently. “Just be cool for once, okay?”

Dipper has never, ever been cool for a single instant in his life. He doesn’t know why his twin thinks he’s even capable of it. Add on the multiple reasons he can’t exactly flirt with some random dude that Mabel met on the street, and it’s a recipe for infinite awkwardness.

Before he can explain why this is a bad idea, on so many levels, Mabel straightens up.

“Hey, glad you made it” She beams at a point over Dipper’s shoulder. “Let me introduce you to-”

A cheerful laugh interrupts her, high and bright. It lingers longer than it should, seconds past the point where it’d be appropriate - then two firm hands clap onto Dipper’s shoulders, squeezing tight.

“Well, well, well, well, well!” The voice behind him oozes smug pleasure. The grip on his shoulders tightens briefly, then slides down to his biceps in a slow, appreciative stroke. “So this is the famous Dipper Pines, huh?”

The voice, the touch. The smug, amused tone of someone pulling off an amazing joke that nobody’s caught onto yet-

Yeah, that all tracks.

Dipper doesn’t resist when the man whips him around, frowning up into the beaming face of Bill goddamn Cipher.

“Boy, you weren’t kidding! He is cute!” Bill exclaims, expression perfectly surprised and delighted. Like he’s never seen this face before in his life. He turns towards Mabel. “And you say this guy’s single?”

“Yep!” She gives a big double-thumbs up. Another person might mistake the way her eye’s moving as a twitch, but it’s just a million winks at Dipper, packed into too small a space.

Bill lets out a low whistle. “Dang, that’s a shame.” The grins creeps up another fraction. “A smart guy woulda snagged him up the moment they saw him in person!”

Dipper lets out a strangled sound from his throat. Despite the… everything, his face feels hot, turning pink with embarrassment.

He glares at this smug, double-talking jackass. Bill beams back at him with unashamed delight.

From the side, Mabel hisses in annoyance at his reaction. She gestures towards Bill insistently, waving over his body, his arms. She points at his face twice, eyes wide like Dipper hasn’t seen it yet.

But there’s no point in her pointing. Dipper’s well acquainted with every part of his boyfriend.

Including his tendency to not mention important facts.

So there’s the reason she was late. The reasons for the magic pulses - of course his stupid demon wouldn’t give him any heads up that he was already planetside. And the reason why the guy she met was oh-so-conveniently into nerds, especially ones related to Mabel friggin’ Pines.

Why did Dipper think mentioning his family was a good idea? It’s only given Bill more chances for chaos.

Or in this case, a really stupid prank.

“Now let’s see,” Bill says, more contemplative now. His eye roves over Dipper, head to toe. “What else you got going, kid?”

But. Okay, the attention’s nice. It’s never not been nice, even when it’s been creepy and strange and inhuman.

Maybe playing along a little couldn’t hurt?

“I-” Dipper starts rubbing the back of his neck. If he looks his boyfriend in the eye while lying like a rug, he’ll never pull this off. “Well, I-”

“Oh! Like I said, he’s really into magic. Like you!” Mabel interrupts, bouncing in place. Her voice lowers, as if sharing a secret. “He does freelance work, y’know?”

“Is that so!” Bill’s mouth forms a perfect ‘o’ of surprise. Dipper half expects him to clap a hand to his cheek in astonishment. “Why, I never! A monster hunter? Right in front of me?”

“You betcha!” Proudly, Mabel sets fists on her hips. All too eager to hype man her brother before he’s said anything himself. “On the track of a dangerous criminal and everything!”

“Wow!” Bill, looking suitably impressed, somehow avoids having his pants set aflame from the sheer force of lying. “I bet he’s a nasty customer, too! A real devilish fellow!”

God, the puns hurt. Dipper can’t help but make a face, which gets another disappointed look from his sister, and a sinister gleam starts building up in Bill’s eye -

Alright, that’s enough.

Lying to Mabel would have been bad enough - but between their discussion and Dipper not getting a word in, Bill’s getting so full of himself that he might just explode. And that needs nipping in the bud, immediately.

Dipper shoves Bill back a pace, brushing off his shirt. He gives this asshole the full narrow-eyed glare and, ignoring the aghast look from his sister, flips his asshole boyfriend off.

“Hey!” Affronted, Mabel takes a step in, taking his arm. “What the heck, Dipper?”

“Mabel, listen,” Dipper starts, only to get shushed by his sister and turned to face Bill by said asshole.

“And you’re feisty as well? Jackpot!” Bill beams, taking his head in his hands. “Now, let’s see about the rest of ya.”

Before Dipper can guess what that means - or even ask - Bill tugs his shirt up. The only reason it doesn’t come completely off is because Dipper recognizes the motion and jerks his arms down in time.

“Hey!” He struggles with Bill’s grip on his shirt, planting a palm on Bill’s face as he leans in for closer inspection. “What the hell, man?”

“Yep, that’s a fighter alright! Real nice view!” Bill says, after lingering too long ogling unwillingly exposed flesh. He lets the shirt drop - Dipper spends a second straightening it out - only to grab onto his butt next in a full-palm fondle. “Aha! Now that’s where it’s at!”

It’s so like Bill to start flinging compliments while completely breaking every polite convention known to man. He can never do anything straightforward. Possibly he’s allergic. With a swear, Dipper grapples with his jackass boyfriend again, trying to retain some semblance of dignity.

Mabel stands off to the side, mouth agape. Silently staring between the two of them, too stunned to react.

Clearly she wasn’t expecting this kind of crap. And honestly? Dipper can’t blame her. Bill’s pretty good at covering his asshole tendencies when he wants.

Dipper can handle it, though. He’s already halfway pried the groping grasp off his butt when Bill’s other hand rotates to the front, taking hold with alarming swiftness. The high-pitched yelp he lets out is, thankfully, only from surprise.

“Hey!” And that gesture must have finally shaken Mabel from her shock, because now she looks offended. “Bill! What are you doing?”

“Cute, smart, decent body - he’s just like you said! The whole package!” Bill gives his handful a friendly jiggle, looking thrilled to have found a part to grab where he can’t get smacked away lest there be collateral damage. He turns towards Mabel with a grin. “How’s twenty bucks sound?”

The alarmed “What the hell!” from her comes out at the same time as Dipper’s offended, “Only twenty?”

“Oh, no no no,” Mabel waves her hands rapidly, the sleeves of her sweater nearly covering them in the rush. “He’s not for sale, what the heck!”

“Oh, of course!” Bill releases Dipper’s crotch to smack himself dramatically on the forehead, shaking his head. “Because he’s his own person! With his own life decisions and everything!” His expression turns serious, nodding as if he actually cared about that fact. “No problem, Shooting Star! I’ll just kidnap him instead.”

A sudden swipe behind Dipper’s knees sends him into a swearing fall. One that’s quickly interrupted as he’s scooped up into Bill’s arms, startled and staring into an excited smile.

Bill gives Mabel a perfunctory half-bow, bounces Dipper in his arms once - then starts sprinting down the street.

To Mabel’s credit, there’s only a half-second pause before she follows.

“Help! Brother-napping in progress! Stop, you creep!” Mabel shouts, almost louder than Bill can manage. With some effort, Dipper peeks over his shoulder to see a flail of color trailing behind after them, one sweater-clad arm shaking in fury. “You better let him go, or you’ll regret this!”

Bill cackles louder, chest shaking - and one thing about being a demon is that he can really book it when he needs to.

Dipper finds himself clinging to his ‘kidnapper’ tight, just to feel more comfortable about not being dropped. Not that he needs to worry about that. Even sprinting full-out and laughing, Bill’s not even breathing hard as he flees the wrath of righteousness.

Dipper thunks his head against his awful, stupid boyfriend’s shoulder, and rolls his eyes.

Welp. He’s not sure what else he expected.

Bill’s always going to be Bill, after all. An evil, bored, antagonising force, bent on finding the funniest thing to do and jerking people around by it at every turn. And a vengeful, chaotic asshole.

It’s hardly surprising that he and he took offense at someone arranging dates with his boyfriend. Whether or not Mabel knew their situation doesn’t matter in his view. It’s the principle of the thing - and, of course, a chance to be a total dick.

But all things considered, it’s hardly the worst case scenario.

Bill could have laid on the charm, gaslighting her into thinking he was a different kind of guy. Something that would make their introduction easier - and have her totally ignoring Dipper’s warnings about what kind of guy he is.

But freaking her out was too funny, and that showed his true colors. And thank fuck for that. The last thing Dipper needs is another handsome guy charming her into a series of Bad Ideas.

As they round a street corner, Dipper uses the momentum to kick a leg free, planting heel against pavement. Bill slows as he tries to both stop him from falling and continue dragging him along.

“Aw, c’mon,” Bill chides, making a valiant attempt to pick Dipper up again. “Let’s ditch the sibling and get moving! As far as she knows, I’m gonna do all kinds of dastardly things to ya. Terrible ones!” His eye glimmers, briefly unfocused - and Dipper takes the moment of distraction to get both feet on the ground. “Aww, hey!”

“Not a chance.” Dipper says, less annoyed than he’d like. He dodges another grab by stepping neatly to the side. “You’ve had your fun. Now at least try to behave for like, five seconds.”

One look at Bill’s face says that he’s not done with the fun, or at least thoroughly annoyed at its interruption - which means Dipper has to sweeten the pot.

“I’m sure she’s panicking as we speak,” He adds, rolling his eyes at Bill’s look of pride. “And it was kinda funny. But at least try to good impression, jackass.” Resting a palm on Bill’s arm, he offers a shy smile. “Please?”

“Hmmm.” Bill hums thoughtfully. A second later, he shrugs. “Eh, sure! Probably wasn’t gonna get much mileage outta dragging it out anyway.”

Yep. Another win for Dipper Pines. He’s getting good at this demon-wrangling stuff.

“Hey!” Mabel rounds the corner, steps clearly flagging. She leans against he building, then glares at Bill. “You can’t just-”

Then she leans over, bracing herself on her knees as she tries to catch her breath. Dipper’s surprised she caught up this fast, but it wasn’t without effort - he thinks one of her bracelets is missing, and her hair is a mess.

Dipper offers her a hand, but she waves it off. There’s a thoughtful sound behind him, then arms circle his waist and drag him back into Bill’s grasp.

“So. I see you’ve met Bill.” Dipper says, finally. He glares a bit over his shoulder as Billtugs him closer to settle in, chin tucked on his shoulder. Probably wearing the very smuggest smile he owns.

“Dipper, I’m sorry,” Mabel blurts. She’s still catching her breath, face red as she flails her sleeves in inarticulate protest. “I didn’t know-”

“That he was an asshole? A jerk? A totally weird creep?” Dipper holds up his hands before she can apologize again. “No, it’s fine. I already knew that. He’s… actually what I wanted to talk to you about.”

She pauses, taking in their position. How Dipper’s not struggling, or swearing, or hexing the shit out of his ‘kidnapper’. The worried frown turns more… contemplative. The lightbulb flickers.

Dipper takes a steadying breath.

Here goes.

“Mabel, this is… Bill Cipher.” He gestures at Bill, then shoves his head away from his neck before he can leave a hickey. “He’s my boyfriend.”

Mabel boggles at him. There’s no other word for it. Eyes wide, mind clearly racing as she ties in what just happened with how Bill looks and what she thought everything was like just five minutes ago.

She takes a second, before finally landing on, “What?”

Yeah, that’s a reasonable reaction.

But if they got along earlier, they’ll… probably get along okay, right? Now that Bill’s got the initial bullshit out of his system, they might even have stuff in common.

Thank hell for that. Romance is kind of her thing, of course she’s interested. Good thing too. Compared to the rest of his family, Mabel is easy mode.

Only a second later she claps her hands to her cheeks, gasping hugely. Dipper can almost see the questions about to burst out.

“Let’s go back, get some coffee, and I’ll tell you everything.” Dipper smiles, but speaks before she can start interrogating them on the street. He shrugs Bill off, getting his hand seized in the process. He squeezes it back. “Trust me, it’s a long story.”

#Okay now I'll work on something serious #Or rather something longer #But anyway here's a short thing!! It coulda been longer but I kind of waffled on whether or not it makes sense #See there's a big question I'm not entirely certain about #And it's 'can Portal Bill be a triangle on earth'#Because I 1000% believe he'd freak Mabel out a second time with the reveal while Dipper's just 'damn it Bill' about it #Another anecdote that didn't get in here #Mabel just lost a bet #See *she* thought Dipper would end up dating a vampire or a werewolf #And Soos bet it would probably be some kinda fish-man or whatever #But Wendy had her money on 'something *way* weirder than any of those'#And what do you know! She was right

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eclipseberrycake · 2 days ago

Text

Funhouse (Looey x Reader)

AN: Hey guys guess who's a new Sprout main? Me. A Rodger kept taking tapes right in front of me, literally calling me over only to take them the second i was close enough. His friend was playing as Bobette. You took something I loved Rodger main, I'm taking something you love. Since I can't draw her pregnant, she's the new villain until someone else pisses me off. Not yet though. I will bide my time.

Anyway.

☁ Looey. Looey. He's such a guy. A goofy lil' goober.

☁ If you don't think he's with another circus based toon, you're crazy. He's a little too...crazy for lack of a better term. Looey I think really needs someone to match his energy, so another circus toon would be perfect!

☁ Stay with me- A Healer! Toon, who's special ability is kind of like a tightrope. It attaches them to the nearest wall and let's them cross an area without being spotted for like 5 seconds.

☁ I think it's neat especially with Looey.

☁ He's a distractor, evidently, and if you haven't picked it up I love the Distractor X Healer Trope.

☁ Imagine he's running and for some reason nearly gets snapped by Twisted Scraps only for a thing of cotton candy to fall in front of him? I've only ever seen Goobs and Scraps really catch Looey mains tbh.

☁ ANYWAY

☁ They probably use circus foods instead of cupcakes or cookies. And you KNOW Looey loves his circus foods. My personal hc is that he wasn't always part of Gardenview and was part of a circus at some point, so he gets a little homesick :(

☁ Maybe you two both came from the circus in fact and found refuge in Gardenview and joined their cause! That would be cute! Just two sweethearts looking for a safe haven for themselves.

☁ Speaking of which! Looey is so sweet! And cheeky too!

☁ He's constantly giving you little flowers with a cheeky little grin, pecking your cheek and running off before you could even reciprocate, or tapping one shoulder is to make you look only to round around the other side.

☁ He also loves rubbing against you to make your fur/hair all puffy from the static electricity.

☁ He also has so many cool little skills. Like, he can juggle on a unicycle kind of things. He can make balloon animals and is scary good at those scammy carnival games. If you ever get the chance to go to a carnival with Looey, you should know he's pinpointing the largest teddy bear there and you're walking out with it.

☁ On runs, since he's distracting, he doesn't stress too much about you. He trusts you can handle yourself! He only struggles when he knows he's teetering the edge of becoming a twisted and you come to heal him. Your ability makes it easier on him though!

☁ He's always eternally grateful when he hears to deployment of your line, and sees the treat, but never sees you! Not that he doesn't love you and seeing you! But not seeing you while he's distracting is truly best.

☁ He takes the healing well honestly. He's sits with a cheeky, "Alright alright." Gazing at you lovingly the entire time, even if you're scolding him.

☁ The kind of dude to play pranks on his lover for sure. But not mean, tiktok incel pranks, but the confuse don't abuse pranks. :) Like that one husband with his blind husband! He's adding shampoo while you're in the shower and trying to wash it out. He's adding more fries to your plate every time you look away so you think it's an endless plate. He's such a menace.

☁ And he's quick too! So you can't even get him back! Like that one video where the girlfriends dumps cold water on her bf in the shower and he grabs her before she can escape and pulls her in? That's y'all.

☁ You guys probably have a whole lotta activities you do together. Small little hobbies he sees somewhere and wants to try at least once.

☁ Baking turned into some sort of adventure! You've seen Sprout and Cosmo do it with their sweethearts and they always end the time laughing, covered in flour and icing and feeding each other desserts.

☁ Funnel cakes was the treat he was craving when he walked up to you one lazy afternoon. There were no runs going on, supplies were stocked and everyone was taking the well needed break to catch up on some housekeeping, little chores they had been putting off or even just simply napping. It was a day of rest and relaxation!

☁ But Looey wouldn't let that slide. He's had a craving for the sweet treat for so long and now, he has the time to drag you to help him make it! The normal bakers were scattered, out of the kitchen, one of them napping with one of their partners while the other was folding laundry with the other next to them. So that meant it was open!

☁ You yourself were on a device, scrolling through some app that started with a T, reading silently while curled in a blanket. You looked so content there, he almost hesitated to ruin it.

☁ That did not stop him from running full speed only to jump onto you, nuzzling into your neck as you squealed at the intrusion. "Gumdrop!" He cheered while your squeals turned into laughter, pecking soft pecks to your cheeks and lips. "Let's do something!"

☁ "I was doing something." You giggled, brushing back his ears before they popped right back up. He shook his head to make them wave back and forth and tap against your hands, making you laugh again as you moved to hold his head. "But I guess I can share my attention."

☁ "Great!" His tail gave a wag. "I was hoping you and I could go on another baking adventure. I'm thinking funnel cakes!" He cheered, making you roll your eyes fondly.

☁ "Is that what you want now?" You tease, closing your device and setting it to the side.

☁ "At this very second? No. I want a kiss." He beams, making you laugh once more. You give him a sweet little peck, hearing his tail wave side to side rapidly.

☁ Once he was satisfied, he stood with a sweet bow, extending a hand to you. Once you took it, he helped you up before hooking your elbows together, rehashing the time he spent earlier while you had some alone time back to you.

☁ You listened with an attentive ear, smiling the entire time. By the time you made it to the kitchen, he was going on about the game of Crib he and Finn had been playing earlier, and how he had won- even if you knew he had been using the tricks he used in the circus to flub the cards.

☁ You pointed out as much, moving around the kitchen a little clumsily. You found what you needed well enough however, setting it out along with the utensils needed. Looey knew himself well enough to know where his limits lie, so he put a pot of oil on the stove, turning the burner on before stepping back, watching you whip up a quick batter.

☁ "You look glorious, you know that?" He teased, watching your cheeks flush as you tried hiding your smile. He loved seeing that look on your face, especially knowing it was because of him.

☁ There was something about you that just had him acting like a whole new toon! It was kind of uncanny really. He wouldn't admit, except to maybe you, but at the beginning of his time with the circus, he feared he was too different. Too much. And he hated being alone.

☁ Then you showed up and life hasn't been the same. He will forever be eternally grateful to have you in his life and fully plans to cherish you for as long as you will allow him too.

☁ It was why he insisted on having moments like these so often. He never wanted to say he wished he could've done it with you and would've rather had the memories to look back on. Especially with the twisteds. He had only been a twisted once, and could only remember running and running and running hoping to find you or any trace of you.

☁ Waking up, back to himself, and seeing you was one of the best-worst moments of his life.

☁ He knew seeing him like that must've been scary for you and tried desperately to erase that memory with only good ones.

☁ And if sifting powdered sugar onto freshly fried dough and drizzling it with your favorite sweet sauce helped erase some of those bad memories too?

☁ Well, he found he didn't mind a single bit, laughing at the powder dusting you nose as you fed him the first bite of the first treat, laughing when he got sauce all over his face.

#dandy's world x reader #dandys world x reader #looey x reader #dandy's world looey #dandy's world looey x reader #dandys world looey x reader #dandys world looey #dw looey #dw looey x reader

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beef-brisket · 2 days ago

Note

Over the next few days, there was a shift in Hell. Not only one everyone could see, but one Lucifer could feel. It was like an ache deep in his bones, a spasm in his muscles.

There had been reports of more and more angels flying over the battlefields, and even Charlie saw one or two fly over the Pride Ring while she was out shopping.

They hadn't heard from Hela, and more has Lucifer felt her presence. The more quiet and stressed Lucifer got, the louder and more panicked Adam was. He spends most of his time pacing, with a hand over his healed wound.

Lucifer wasn't sure what Hela said to Adam, but it had affected him.

It got bad enough that Lucifer threatened to find a new silencing charm.

Adam: We can't just sit here and do nothing-!

Lucifer pinched the bridge of his nose: We're not-.

Adam: More and more angels are hanging around- their going to make their move, Luci, and you know it! We have to find Hela- Luke, yesterday!

Lucifer: Adam-.

Adam: Maybe she's on Earth again, I'll go find her, okay?

Lucifer: Adam! Enough! Breathe, love! For the love of everything good, just breathe.

Adam was silent as Lucifer grabbed his face. The little bastard stood on his throne so he could actually reach him.

The blazing look in his husbands eyes made Adam do what he was told. But that didn't stop that shiver of panic and anxiety run through him.

Adam: ...I-I fan beat her- I just have to... I don't know, but I can! Fuck, I can... I just... have to go... all out, y'know?

Adam had his wrist up. The bracelet Lucifer gave him on their engagement day caught the light so perfectly. Lucifer's eyes softened as he looked over the bracelet. As much as he hated caging Adam, the man insisted on it. Claiming, it allowed the real him to love Lucifer the way he deserved. And not giving in to the disgusting romanticised, toxic love his God side wanted.

Lucifer: Addy...

Adam: I can do it, Lu.

Lucifer was quiet for a moment. He wasn't sure what to expect, and they decided to take the bracelet off. Especially now that Gabriel had given Adam his full power back- for some fucking reason.

Maybe he knew more than he was letting on.

Lucifer: ...Let's... just think it through for a little, okay-?

Adam: Luci. There's no time. Hela will strick sooner rather than later. She thinks I'm nothing... she won't expect it.

Lucifer: Adam... this is a literal God.

Adam smiled softly and rested his hand over Lucifer's: Can I be honest for a moment?

Lucifer narrowed his eyes: I swear, if you've chested on me-!

Adam: Whoa! Not a chance, babe! Shit!

Laughing, Lucifer kissed Adam's forehead: Go on then, Ad.

Adam: I've... never had my full power before. What Gabriel gave me... had been locked away since I was born. Yeah, I've come close to having all of my power, but not like this. I'm... I'm more than certain I can take her down.

Lucifer: ...So, I could lose you?

Adam: I... I don't know- I don't think so. And if you do, it'll only be for a moment- I'll always crawl back to you, Luci. Always.

Lucifer sighed but soon smiled softly at Adam: And I'll always have your bracelet waiting. I'm not losing my dove. Not to Heaven, and not to Hela.

Pulling Lucifer into a kiss, Adam attached himself to his neck and started sucking marks over each inch of skin he could find.

Adam: You'll have me, love. Always.

Moaning, Lucifer chuckled and ran his hands through Adam's hair: ...Let's go kill us a God~.

Adam: Mmm~. Maybe, after you fuck me~?

I miss our God!Adam Au

Sequel 👀

In Canada Eh! Lmao

CANADA FOREVER

Yes plsss! I miss our stupid, power-hungry boy 😫😫

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nottivagos · 17 hours ago

Note

Mechanic Daniel is haunting my thoughtsssss👨🏻‍🔧

Just imagine readers car is making a few funny noises coming into the shop one day and instead of asking the guys or Daniel she thinks hey I can do this myself and show everyone I’m not just a pretty face, I’ve watched Daniel enough to know what’s going on right? Wrong. After the shop is closed reader somehow makes her car even worse not noticing mechanic Danny has come back for something and is less than happy, I neeeeed to know how you think he’d react😭🙏and what he’d do to reader 😉

It's that time again! Welcome to Notti's "Not So Innocent" Notebook where I write some filth to make your Monday a little bit better <3 || 18+ mdni pls and ty

an: GUYS. ANOTHER NONNIE WANTS ME DEAD. this is not a drill. anywho, LOVED THIS IDEA. ugh angry dilfs.. 😵‍💫.. i kinda switched it up a little with reader going to ask danny first (i hope u dont mind! i'd just had this idea that she was so ditzy she literally went to a con man for a car.) but the plot after that is the same <3

taglist: @orangeblossomsintheair

“I told you to not buy a shit car off of ‘im,” Danny grumbled, rubbing his temples with annoyance. “But fine,” he sighed, rubbing his forehead with the back of his hand, “I’ll fix your car,” he groaned, yet his voice held some gentleness to it. “Pass ‘em over, pet,” he flashed his rough, oil-stained palm out towards you, demanding you give your car keys over.

“Really?” your eyes brightened, that glint of happiness ever so more noticeable. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” you exclaimed your appreciation, passing over your car keys into his hand. He responded to your over-bubbly response with a disinterested grunt, nodding as he pocketed your keys, pulling out a cigarette before turning on his heel to take his well deserved smoke break after speaking to you.

However, Danny’s ‘I’ll fix your car’ meant that you were getting it back in his own time. Your boss never understood the concept of a timeframe, or in this instance, a deadline. You needed your car badly, and quick too. You couldn’t help but sympathise with him slightly, he was drowned in work, but that wasn’t an excuse in this instance.

It didn’t help that he wasn’t impressed by who you’d bought your car off. Maybe he was a little biassed, a tinge of jealousy behind that motive, but that could be suppressed by the mechanic. He’d advised you not to buy something from a rival car dealership (with a notorious legacy of selling “useless pieces of crap that deserved to be in a scrapyard”, in his words) in the local area, but the offers he was providing to you were amazing! Too bad that the car had a hundred problems you couldn’t fix. Too bad that you were too much of a pretty face whilst lacking the brains to see a con artist in his element.

Maybe you were being too impatient. Daniel was a busy man, but surely he’d make some time for you? After all, you were the one sucking him off during after-work hours, surely he’d make you the exception. Unfortunately, your hopes were far from reality. Danny was living in a ‘laid-back’ mindset ever since his divorce, doing tasks when he wanted to do them. Not when they needed to be done by. His customers knew not to complain, or they’d face the wrath of an aggressive mechanic nearly throwing a wrench at their head for rushing him.

‘Death by wrench’ was something you definitely didn’t want your ultimate demise to be known as, so you sat silently, despite the irritating urge to go and ask Danny if he’d even thought of starting on your car playing in the back of your mind. You couldn’t help but wonder if it would be better if you tried to mend your car yourself. Not only would it take the stress of Danny and the guys, but also you could prove to them that you were not just the ‘pretty face in reception that only makes a good fuck for Dan’.

So guess what you stupidly decided to do, a rush of confidence influencing your brash decision. Fix your car! You waited (rather impatiently) for Danny and the guys to go on their lunch and a shared smoke break, knowing they’d take 2 hours instead of the actual designated 30 minutes, to try and mend your poor machine. It had only been making a few weird noises… Easy fix. Right?

Wrong! Despite ogling over Danny whilst he fixed cars, believing all of that daydreaming about him whilst watching would come to good use, you soon discovered that you were not a car mechanic. And instead… useless. Well, useless wasn’t the nicest term to use. If you had maybe asked one of the guys or Danny himself for some advice, the car’s ‘wheezing and sputtering’ problem would’ve been an easy fix. But instead, giving you a wrench and a power to ‘fix’ your car ultimately made its problem worse.

The minutes turned into hours, and somehow it was already the end of the working day. The garage was silent, apart from your annoyed huffs and puffs as you continued to try and mend what you’d already broken even more.

Pouting, you wiped your sweaty forehead, not acknowledging the unamused grunts from behind you. Whilst you’d been sucked into your own world of mending your car, Danny had been watching you, agitated of course, silently whilst he rested against the countertop.

“What a shit job you've done.” A husky, unamused voice bellowed from behind you. “For a girl who ogles over me all day whilst I work, I’d suspect you could do better than.. whatever this is.”

Eyes widened as your breathing hitched. Fuck, he did not sound happy, or amused at what you’d done. Turning on your heel, you faced him with a nervous smile. “B-Boss!” you exclaimed as a blurt, “I was just trying to fix it on my own!”

“Thought I’d told you to wait,” he said, giving you a knowing look. He was resting against the worktop, burly arms crossed against his broad chest. “And instead of waitin’ like a good girl, your car is now even more fucked.”

“B-but—!”

“But nothing,” he grunted with distaste, pushing himself off of the counter towards you. In a swift movement, he had your front pushed onto the bonnet of the car, ass high up in the sky as you let out a small yelp.

“What am I going to do with you, huh?” he sighed, as if he was scolding a child, large palms gripping your hips as you rested your chest against the bonnet of the car. “Always so impatient,” he murmured, fingertips trailing down to your clothed ass which was becoming more visible as your dress rode up your curves, “always so needy. Fuck, you really know how to piss me off, petal.”

Large hands came to brush your skirt up your body, revealing your clothed bottom to Danny more clearly. He hummed with satisfaction as calloused fingers hooked underneath your panties, the cool air hitting your slick pussy almost immediately as he ripped them down your legs.

“Can’t even have a smoke without you goin’ against what I’ve told you to do,” he added, swatting your ass with force. The slap made you yelp, tears foolishly forming in your eyes as your hips jerked forward upon impact.

“That—” another whack to your throbbing flesh, “—was for being impatient—,” he grunted upon another harsh impact, his hand now leaving a red mark against your asscheek, sobs now escaping your lips. “And this—” the clap echoed around the quiet workshop as you whined, “—is for making an easy fix even worse for me to do.”

A foolish whimper followed. A strangled sob as you felt your pussy become slightly wetter. Daniel brought his face down to your ear, his ragged breaths rattling your eardrums ever so slightly.

“Tell me you’re sorry and I’ll stop,” he whispered huskily into your ear, hot breath burning the shell of your ear as you bit your bottom lip, mascara smudged by the tears you’d shed. His hand ghosted over your throbbing curves, the distance teasing you as your body was tricked into thinking he would smack it again.

“I-I’m sorry, Danny!” you blurted loudly, tears streaming down your rosy cheeks like a little girl. “I won’t try and fix a car on my own again, I-I- promise!” you squeaked helplessly.

“Good girl,” Danny hummed, moving away from you to the workbench to pick up his toolbox whilst you rearranged your clothes.

When you’d finished, he looked at you with a soft smile, despite the irritation that he’d have to stay even later to fix your problems. His doe brown eyes looked sweeter than they usually did, as he leaned in for a little kiss. The kiss was ever so soft, as if it was a ‘sorry’ for spanking you so hard, but he let his lips linger on your burning cheek for a while after.

“You should probably get off,” he said, his voice gentle as he looked at you. “It’s late, I’d hate to keep you here any longer,” Danny added with a soft glance, before rummaging through the box for the tools he needed.

You were about to head to the exit before Danny’s head sprung back around, as he reached out for your arm.

“Oh, and one other thing,” he called out, wrapping your hand around your wrist for a moment. “Next time you want me to do somethin’, just ask. Hell, nag me until I don't want you to nag me anymore," he chuckled with a shake of his head, “I’m more than willing to do it for you if you need it done as soon as possible, princess.”

like divorced mechanic!danny? consider sending me an ask so you can be included in my notebook! - notti <3

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muddyorbsblr · 3 days ago

Text

relinquish the crown: under one condition pt2

Series Masterlist See my full list of works here!

Placement: Season 1, Episode 15; immediately after 'under one condition pt1'

Summary: Your father summons you to the throne room, where you are to learn of the traditions of your ancestry…as well as the state of your impending betrothal

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 3.2k

Warning/s: themes of incest (he's adopted but still); Prince Damien; Odin; talks of duels to the death; talks of incestuous ancestry [let me know if I missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: stressed Loki hours; stressed Reader hours; a good chunk of this is 'traditions old and new' (Prologue, Part 2) in Loki's POV

"I truly feel as if we've been growing so much closer in the days past, Princess." Your stomach churned as you once again had to swat away the hand of the crown prince of Alfheim before it could slither around your waist.

"What a relief that you seem to think so, Your Highness," you droned with an audible exhale, putting in an effort to yawn as you unsubtly stepped a few feet to the side to put some distance between the two of you.

You slowed your stride when you heard Damien's sibilant uncivilized expletive, fighting back the smirk that tugged at the side of your mouth as he began to pull yet another temper tantrum, stomping his boot at the dark marbled ground. "Princess Y/N, I'm growing quite tired of having to play this guessing game of whether I am beginning to win your favor or not. I have done everything you have asked for in a partner--"

"Have you now?" you cut him off, turning so sharply to look upon his petulant, indignant face. "All you have done in these days past is show how well you can follow direct commands in my presence. If I wanted to have a companion with those traits, I would have gotten a pet." His nostrils flared comically at your flippant remark. "It is your consistency, or lack thereof, of your behavior in the presence of others. Your inability to comprehend the simplest of requisites that I have for someone I would wish to call a partner."

"I have been nothing but diligent in--"

"Choose your next words with the greatest care, Your Highness," you warned him. "Before you utter them, consider the possibility that I might already know the truth. That I might simply be offering you the chance to come clean."

Instead of seeming humbled, he simply scoffed at your words. "You make it seem as if you are everywhere in this castle, Princess. And while I have never been the best strategist I can assure you that there is no feasible way for just one person to know every goings on in such a vast place." He straightened his stance, making a show of visibly deflating his ego and giving you a bow. "But I assure you, even if you were, you would find that I truly have been taking your requisites to heart."

"You are not the first person to underestimate my reach, Prince Damien," you spoke through gritted teeth. "And you certainly will not be the last." You began to walk down the hall again, only to be stopped by a member of the palace guard.

"Your Royal Highness, Princess Y/N," Skarde spoke, his voice trembling as well as the rest of him as he bowed to you.

"Skarde, what's wrong, are you ill?" If he wasn't, then his demeanor perturbed you. It was the behavior of someone holding back a distressing cocktail of emotions. Anger, fear, visceral repugnance…

The palace guard member ignored your inquiry and instead went straight to business, as if he wasn't quite literally shaking in his metal boots. "Your father has requested your presence in the war room, Your Highness."

You nearly started skipping down the hall in the direction of the room in question, relieved that your time with the ill-bred elven prince had been cut short for the day. "Best not keep him waiting then," you simply said before making your way down the hall, not bothering to wait for the guards to start leading the way.

"And what about our schedule for today, Princess?" Damien whined from yards away. "What am I to do with the plans--"

"Whatever you wish, Prince Damien," you answered him snappily, your voice booming and echoing across the hall. "Perhaps you could practice your diligence that you tout with such confidence." The guards displayed a valiant effort to hold back their chortles as the elven prince huffed and stomped away.

"Undoubtedly off to place another call to his father," the guard snickered. "Complaining about how allegedly unfairly he's being treated."

Your ears perked up at Skarde's remark. "So he complains about me often, then?" He looked uncomfortable for a moment before eventually nodding his head stiffly. "And what other information do you hold about our esteemed visiting prince?"

"I-I must not speak ill of visiting royals, truly, Your Highness I misspoke earlier--"

"Come now, it's alright," you tried to calm his stammering. "This would not be rumor mongering or engaging in a smear campaign over Alfheim royalty. You would simply be imparting what knowledge you have to better serve your princess. To the family and the realm you swore your fealty to."

It took a moment but he finally exhaled and sounded quite relieved with your words. "As always, you are correct, Princess."

"It's all a matter of perspective," you told him cheekily. "Now, while we are speaking freely I must ask…why so morose?"

"Brother you could have asked for anything," Thor spoke somberly, all three men in the war room so visibly tense as they awaited your arrival. "Anything in the Realms and it would have gladly been given to you. Why did it have to be this? Why choose the path that would betray Y/N's good graces when she has so easily welcomed you not just into her life, but into her closest circle of trust? Why throw that all away?"

"Because this was the only way," Loki answered him stoically, doing his best to fight back the tears that prickled in the backs of his eyes. "Because had I not asked for this then within the year, you would have lost us both. I would perish in the duel and she would be taken from Asgard, tragically fated to become Alfheim's royal child bearer." He spat out the last words, grimacing as he remembered just a few days ago when he heard Damien spout those hateful words.

"Loki that is a vile accusation to throw at--"

"Those were the words of one Prince Damien, Father," he bit back, jaw tense as he stared down the Allfather. "When he corresponded with the King of Alfheim. He and his father are the ones who are vile, treating women as if they are objects to be traded and shared. The only difference that they can see with Y/N is that she happens to be made of more precious material." His heart broke to even speak of you the way that those heathens would. "You were correct, Brother. Damien is not a suitable match for her. He had never any intention to be."

"Your terms were to save her from this fate?" He nodded at his brother. "Then why the illusion that there was a romantic love behind--"

"Because that was no illusion," he said in a rush as the doors opened, letting you enter the room with a carefree smile on your face that tore at the god's heart even more. He took this moment to commit that smile to memory; it may very well be the last time he would ever see you so happy around him.

The god watched with his heart pounding violently in his chest as various emotions colored your features in rapid succession. From the playful jesting smirk that he'd grown so fond of, to concern when you thought that your grandfather had fallen ill, to a mix of curiosity and confusion when he'd begun to explain the traditions of the days of his father Bor and his grandfather Buri and his father before him.

And ultimately how your features softened as you reassured him that the Realms need only more time to acclimate to the new ways that his marrying of your grandmother set into motion. Loki could see in your eyes the level of determination, the steadfast belief, that Asgard along with the other Realms would come to realize that this was the right way to move forward.

"You abolished an archaic practice in order to wed for love; any man, woman, and child in their correct faculties should understand that," you addressed them all, your words firm and yet your tone gentle, soothing even. Especially as you finished off your statement with misty optimistic eyes. "To wed for love is everyone's dream."

He couldn't help himself. "I know it's mine," the god muttered, causing you to turn your gaze at him, pointing his way.

"He gets it," you said with a demonstrative smirk. Oh, Little Princess, if only you knew the weight behind those words, he thought, trying his damnedest not to sigh. This exchange was far from over; you hadn't even begun to get into the horror of it all.

And yet he couldn't help but return that sly little grin of yours with one of his own, fighting back his tears as he tried to commit every fraction of a moment that he could to memory. Before you would come to know the truth of why these traditions were being told to you now. Before knowing of his affections.

Before your relationship with him would shatter, and he would have to go on the rest of his days with whatever was built out of the rubble.

Before all of that, he would relish in that final time that you looked upon him with fondness, smiling at him as if you two were co-conspirators, and scrunching your nose at him.

That moment was far too short lived, being broken so abruptly by Odin clearing his throat and calling your attention back to the matter at hand, and effectively hurrying along the closing of this chapter of yours and Loki's story. Whatever happens now, you must commit, he told himself. No matter what she says in return, the only thing that matters is you have ensured her safety.

"Y/N, in order to have done so, I had to accept a new tradition proposed to me by my predecessor. My father. This tradition being that if I were to have more than one heir, determining who would succeed me would involve…permanent consequences."

Your neck tensed visibly upon hearing those words. You needn't any more explanation for what your grandfather said, but Thor spoke and offered it anyway. "A duel."

It was almost as if Loki could hear your heart splinter apart as you repeated the words. "A duel?" Your eyes darted between him and your father frantically, searching for even a shred of reassurance that somehow you understood wrong. Grasping for straws you knew didn't exist. "You would have to kill one another?"

The only shred of reprieve that the god felt in this moment was that at least Odin sounded even the slightest bit remorseful over having to relay this information to you. "Or one would have to yield," he confirmed.

Your face contorted into an expression of rage and incredulity. "That is barbaric, Grandfather!" you seethed, chest heaving as the muscles in your neck tensed with every sharp inhale. "What could have possibly been worse than this that it had to be abolished?"

"Y/N, before Odin's rule, our ancestry sought to keep its lineage…pure, as they would call it," Thor nearly spat out the words. Even from this distance, Loki could see that his brother was stubbornly fighting against the inevitable. That soon enough there would be a wedding that served as amalgamation of the ancient traditions and the traditions that Odin accepted in turn for Frigga's hand. "That is how the faith of the people was ensured. That the realms would be ruled with the most reliable individuals alive, passed down from generation to generation. Our generations. Pure, meaning--"

"Now now, Brother," Loki interjected, hearing how the blond prince was already choking on the words. "Let Y/N come to the conclusions herself. Have faith in her knowledge of the words." He looked to you, giving you a somber smile and a single nod. Turn the page, Little Princess.

From the way you'd looked down and your eyes began to dart back and forth as if you were scanning the pages of a book visible only to you, he already knew that you were finding your way to the contentious truth of your ancestry. "Pure," you said the word slowly, as if it tasted foreign on your tongue. "Untainted?" You looked to everyone in the room; Loki regretfully gave you a nod to keep going. "Untainted…by others? Untainted by other realms." You'd begun to seethe again, fists clenched so tightly to your sides that your knuckles began to lighten. "By other lineages, am I getting warmer?"

"Yes, Granddaughter," Odin answered. Loki couldn't quite place the reason behind the veiled anguish in his father's tone.

Was it truly out of dread on your behalf that this exchange would inevitably and effectively sign your life away? Or was it for something more underhanded? Was it because this exchange would not allow him to see the day of that duel he seemed so piqued to come to fruition?

"This was once the tradition of our family. I was arranged to be betrothed to my father's sister's cousin before I met your grandmother. Had I accepted, all our lives might have turned out quite differently."

Your response, the way your nose turned up in a clear show of repugnance, painted a cold and sobering picture of how the rest of this conversation -- and quite possibly your lives together -- would play out. "Grandfather, that's incest," you spat out, the corner of your top lip curled up in disgust now as well.

Would you be just as repulsed, he wondered, once you knew that this was the kind of love he'd held for you? For all this time?

Would you ever look at him again with the joyful gleam in your eyes that warmed his heart whenever you were in the same room together? Or would he have to settle with at least a look of neutrality? A life of forced pursed and tight-lipped smiles when out among the denizens of the realm, only to have sneers and crushing solitude behind closed doors?

Would you even agree to his surrender? Or would you rather see him lose the duel at the hands of your father, so you could be rid of his lecherous ways? Could you be so cold?

"Now do you understand why this barbaric tradition was placed, Daughter?" Thor asked you, his own fists clenched on the table, as if bracing himself for whatever answer may come from you. And whatever questions you had to follow.

You nodded at him, slowly, as if the sinking realization weighed you down tremendously. "But one of you would perish, at the hand of your brother," you answered weakly, before your head shot up once more, looking your father in the eye, a new epiphany making itself clear in your mind. "Is this why you and Mother chose to not have children after me?"

Tears fell from your eyes, undoubtably mourning the loss of a life you'd never lived, one where you got to grow and play and roam the Realms with sisters, or perhaps train with brothers.

"So that you would never have to carry that burden, my dear child," the blond answered you, his voice strained, audibly struggling with tears he fought not to shed. "I would never place that burden on your shoulders."

You shut your eyes tight, your trembling form forcing Loki to fight the urge to walk over to you, to wrap you in his arms and help you to calm yourself. He could almost see the images flashing through your mind now, assessing what the outcome would be of the duel, imagining the horror you would have to watch unfold. Bracing yourself for grief.

And suddenly the grieving girl was gone, replaced by a version of you that oozed with the calculating composure he'd only seen one other time, when you were actively processing the betrayal of one of your closest friends. You righted yourself, standing upright with your shoulders squared, arms behind your back. "Well I wish you both the best of luck."

For a fraction of a moment, your eyes darted to his, the sheer heartbreak in them steadily tearing away at his resolve. You were bidding him goodbye. You would probably wish you could once everything was laid out.

Odin cleared his throat, his posture now mirroring Thor's, bracing himself for the next few moments. "That's why we called you here, Y/N. Loki has relinquished his claim to the throne. Your father is now my sole heir, if certain terms are to be accepted."

Relief painted your features at those words, the smile threatening to break across your face worsening the guilt in Loki's heart. "What terms?" you asked all too eagerly.

Your brows knitted together at the sigh that came from your grandfather before answering your question. Then you became visibly crestfallen at his next words. At what terms Loki asked for to secure his surrender. "That we restore the archaic tradition. To fortify the people's respect in our lineage once more."

It wouldn't take you long to mentally catalog the unwed women in your family. You were the only one. You shook your head, clutching on to denial like it was your last remaining lifeline. "No…you couldn't possibly mean--" Your eyes darted sharply to your father's, now seeing the mix of horror and surrender in them and knowing that he agreed to this. After all, he was the one that called for you. "You would wed me--?"

Not one of them dared to answer you. You didn't them to. You already had your answers laid out as if in plain text. Anger seeped into your features, your own fists clenching on the table.

Loki understood why you would lean towards this emotion first. You wanted to marry for love; you'd said it enough times you seemed so tired of having to repeat yourself time and time again. And yet, here you were, with that desire being stripped of you all in the name of avoiding a horrendous fatal duel.

It wouldn't even cross your mind in the slightest that that would have been the farthest thing from Loki's mind when he offered this trade.

"You signed my life away," you seethed at your father, baring your teeth as if you were ready to take him on in a fight with your bare hands. "You purloined from me the opportunity to wed for love. And you--"

Ice ran through Loki's veins at the accusatory look you gave him.

"You squandered yours," you said more softly than he expected. As if you hurt for him, too. You knew he, too, wished to marry for love and only for love. "Why?"

His heart pounded violently in his chest, bracing himself for what was to come. What hateful words could potentially spew from your mouth as he ripped what denial you clung to. I'm so sorry it had to be this way, Little Princess.

"No," he said, standing from his seat, heart twisting once your eyes widened at that simple word. "I didn't."

A/N: Ohh god here we go…we have the Season 1 Finale up next and goddamn finally we're here. That only took me forever and a day 🤪 I can't wait to get into the events of Season 2. I can only tell y'all now that I don't have a definite number of "episodes" planned yet, but I have the broad strokes. Like I can confirm that the wedding will happen in Season 2…and that's about it 😂

'everything' taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie

@superficialdomina @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog @peaky-marvel @lokiified @dryyoursaltyoceantears @herdetectivetheorist @alexakeyloveloki @lulubelle814

#loki x reader #loki x female reader #dark!loki #dark!loki x reader #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki odinson x reader #relinquish the crown #muddyorbs writes

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