#without questioning if it was romantic or not

[imliterallyf7ckin9crazy]

꧁⋆°𝓢𝓺𝓾𝓲𝓭 𝓖𝓪𝓶𝓮 𝓗𝓮𝓪𝓭 𝓒𝓪𝓷𝓷𝓸𝓷𝓼°⋆꧂

Squid game Season 2 men saving you when you almost die in the game

Characters: player 001, 230, 124

Warnings: canon violence, near death experience, toxic relationships, drug use, mention of suicide, romantic tension, f! Reader

A/N: this is no diss to anyone bc I respect the grind, I truly do, but everything I see of squid game is nsfw. I have to HUNT for sfw shit. I just gave up and just read everything anyways. So I’m trying to balance the scales a bit for rn. Again no diss bc yall nsfw writers COOK.

________

ᏢᏝᎯᎽᎬᏒ 001

(Weird ppl attacking you in game)

- ok so for this one I’ll say that you are just a average player in the games he happened upon. You two met because you were on the ‘X’ team, and more specifically in gi- Huns group.

- he normally is pretty resistant to the ‘worthless sob stories of the poor’ as he puts it. But for some odd reason, yours got to him

- thrown out of home, forced to survive and fend for yourself out in the streets, hopping from job to job because you can’t pay rent on time 8/10 and you get evicted. Pulling loan after loan to keep yourself afloat, and even that is starting to fail you. You are at the very end of the road and if you can’t manage to leave here without some money you are 100% fucked. You genuinely think the only way out of the hole you’ve dug is either a miracle in here or checking out of life manually.

- in-ho LOVES sad wet cat type people, he can’t help it. And even though he’s heard basically the same stories from hundreds of people yet somehow you stuck with him

- life was unfair to you, you were cast out. If that didn’t happen, you wouldn’t have to be living “like garbage”. Almost everyone else put themselves in their financial hole, you started in one. Not fair, see? He’s doing so much mental gymnastics and logistical jumping to validate himself. You’re different, you don’t count.

- you really weren’t a extremely strong individual , you didn’t draw attention to yourself like many of the others, you didn’t argue much or ask many questions. You came with a goal. And he respected that.

- after game two though, the marathon, you and many others decided it was time to call it quits. So you voted ‘X’ with gi-hun and everyone else. And surprisingly in-ho, or young-il as he named himself, also picked ‘X’

- you both didn’t really talk much besides maybe a few sentences to each other about how your group was meant to survive. But after the second vote, having a X on your shirt also meant having a target on your back. And being the “minding my own business” type it doubled that factor.

- a group of three people, two guys and one girl approached you. Sorrounding you and pestering you on your vote. It turned to raised voices and getting in your face, to shoving from all three people as you just stood there and took it, unwilling to change votes. Though you might not fight like some others that doesn’t mean you aren’t brave.

- though as soon as young-il (for simplicity) saw those men put hands on you he was already trudging his way cross room, leaving gi-hun mid conversation to aid you.

- you were backed against the bed frame of the stacked sleeping quarters, these three lunatics yelling and shoving you, telling you that you have to vote ‘O’ “or else”. You assumed it implied you leaving this place in a box.

- that’s when young-il made it to you. “That’s quite enough” he says, eyes cold as ice and facial expression locked in stone. His posture was straight and his head was held high. Very intimidating, it’s almost like he had a military commander type vide (hahaha- odd right??)

- the girl was quick to scamper off, giving you a glare as she informs the boys she’ll be waiting by their group. The men however puff their chests out and square up a bit, and you get second hand embarrassment because young-il doesn’t even flinch or break the deadly eye contact. “Are you sure.” Is all he said. It didn’t sound like an actual question, more of a “are you sure you wanna get your ass beat in front of all these people” threat.

- they got the memo from his venomous words and slowly creeped off back to wherever they came from, looking like puppies with their tails tucked as they walked away.

- “thank you so much” you say, bowing slightly in gratitude for his kindness. He gives you a nice chuckle before lifting your shoulders back up.

- “oh no no, it’s nothing. Those boys should know better, I bet their mothers would chew their ears off if they saw their lack of manners” he jokes, earning a giggle from you.

- it makes him feel kinda fuzzy, but he compartmentalizes that feeling for when he’s alone and can process it. In the mean time he just places his hand on your lower back, guiding you back to the group where you will be safe (and in arms reach)

- this just opened a Pandora’s box of possessiveness and lies, and he doesn’t even know how it will end

ᏢᏝᎯᎽᎬᏒ 230

(Mingle)

- for this let’s just say that you met up with thanos for the second game, the marathon one, and yall clicked a bit, leading him to tell you that “you should stay with me and my crew, for safety”

- and so you do. What could be the harm? He’s clearly deranged and a loose cannon, wouldn’t it be better to just go along before he kills you?

- is what you originally thought. Turns out after that conversation and you joined, he really isn’t that bad to be around. When he’s high he always makes you laugh, constantly cracking jokes and making fun of people at their expense to make you smack his shoulder a bit, saying “be nice!”

- you noticed he thrives on attention, and you give it to him freely. It’s hard not to when he’s got bright purple hair, hand tattoos WITH rainbow painted nails, and he’s rapping and dancing like he was in the comfort of his own home. Plus nam gyu, the guy who lowkey bullied the shit out of you the first few days was now told to “chill out man”

- now, you were all standing on a spinning circular floor, a cute little cheery jingle being played from over the speakers. Thanos and nam gyu danced together to the music, high in ways you didn’t even know you could get. It was pretty silly though, acting like kids.

- then the music dropped, and a number was said. You had to run with that number of people into a room to live. Those left behind will die

- the first few rounds were easy, the numbers were quite high and you held onto thanos’ jacket to stay with the group. The sounds of people begging to be let in followed by being punctured with bullets rang in your mind and the number for people in groups got lower and lower, until the number was two.

- you, thanos, nam gyu and min-su all stared at each other for a moment, frozen on who to pick before thanos started throwing his head from side to side before turning and gripping your arm and nam gyus, running full speed and pulling you along, forcing you to leave min-su. Though you felt horrible once you saw his shocked little face, you just kept going. Choosing to save your life instead of feeling bad and dying there.

- thanos shoved nam gyu towards the door next to the one you were about to be tossed in, luckily he saw someone was waiting by themselves in the room, so he was safe with two. Nam gyu gave him a small nod to let him know he was safe and set to survive.

- thanos rushed you in, slamming the door behind him and peering out. This was the last round, you made it. The door beeped behind you and locked, ensuring your victory of the game.

- adrenaline was still pumping through your veins as you gazed up at him from your spot cowering against the wall as gun shots rang. You didn’t even hear the people screaming or the poor souls who were locked from the room right behind you and thanos, damming you to hell for getting to the room first as they die. “Holy shit” you say as you look at him as he smiled back. “We did it.”

- “yup” he says confidently “now let’s see how much money we earned” thanos says as he pulled open the door for the final time. Before he can step out you grab his sleeve “hey- uh thank you” you mumbled

- he could have just left you like min-su and went with nam gyu, but he chose to save you.

- “what? Nah it’s nothing. Don’t worry” he says, patting you on the head and steering you out of the room

ᏢᏝᎯᎽᎬᏒ 124

(Lights out fight)

- there was a obvious tension in the air, one that nearly suffocated you as you sat with nam gyu on a bed… thanos’ bed.

- the vote ended in a tie, meaning the vote was to be redone the following day. After that was announced, your friends thanos and nam gyu went to the bathroom to ‘help even out the votes’. Specifically to talk to that poor min-su they’ve been harassing non stop. Only just nam gyu came back out. Eyes blown wide and covered head to toe in thick splashes of blood. Your heart nearly died when you saw him stumbling dazed out of the bathroom. You knew SOMETHING had happened when no thanos returned safely to you.

- after that, he tried convincing you they didn’t start the fight, which you saw right through. Eventually he dropped that act and told you straight up what went down. How your friend was murdered. Nam gyu tried covering his pain up by insulting thanos and taking two of his pills from the cross he stole from him. Calling him an asshole and an idiot. Again, you saw right through.

- you brought your hand up to his face to wife some blood off with your sleeve. And he leaned right into it, sighing very very deeply as he crushed the drugs between his teeth. He held your hand to his face, which you thought was just him being cute until he started talking about how there needed to be a total blood bath that night. To ensure team ‘O’ wins and you both could keep going. You tried to pull away but his grip kept you like in your spot next to him.

- “no nam gyu, we can’t just kill these people. They are just like us they just need money-“

- “yes! That’s the fucking point. We need that danm money, can’t you see? We won’t fucking win with all those stupid fucking cockroaches leeching our money” he hisses, harsh words contrasting with his hands tracing patterns gently on yours. “We won’t win this vote with them alive, we won’t get more money with them all alive. This is the only way”

- he just kept going and going until you agreed, saying you’d at least let him go out and kill and you’d be his little look out. Only nothing can go smoothly for anyone ever here.

- while there’s lights flashing and people screaming, blood and gore being sprayed from the alive and leaking from the dead, you are trying to make out what is going on around you. You can (faintly) see nam gyu out in the room, grabbing people and ripping them to shreds with his fork, the very fork that killed thanos to be exact.

- while you were looking around for nam gyu, someone had come up behind you, grabbing you by the neck and trying to choke you out. You screamed out nam gyus name as loud as you could as the attackers grip tightened and tightened to the point where you thought your neck was bound to snap. Your vision going out slowly as all you can recognize becomes the sound of the chaos. Until suddenly you were freed, and your assaulter was ripped off you and pinned to the ground by nam gyu.

- he started repeatingly stabbing the person, blood flying onto you and him as he slit the person open. When he stopped you basically flung yourself at him, crying “thank you! Thank you!”. He just saved your life, though You could barely recognize him, he was lost completely in drug fueled blood lust and rage.

- maybe not completely you figured, as he rushed to you and scooped you up. He returned you to a bunk, telling you to hide there and wait for him. Promising you he’ll come back, that he will keep you safe. And he did, as the lights came on and the gun shots rung out, he was alive and on his way back to you

______

Bet yall can’t guess who my favorite is >:3

[anhedoniawrites]

it’s not a date, we just kinda fuck around.

gif by @reidgif

june baby - victoria canal

Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU Reader.

summary: the two youngest BAU agents go on a first date

genre: fluff💌

word count: 8.5k

warnings: no use of y/n, proofread, none! (this is all foreplay for the smut that’s coming)

masterlist!

You never thought Spencer Reid would actually work up the courage to ask you out. Yet here you were, standing in your apartment with only ten minutes to spare, staring at your closet like it held the answer to life itself. Nothing seemed good enough, and you still had no idea what to wear. If you’d had even the slightest inkling that this day would come, you would have pre-planned outfits for every possible scenario—a casual coffee shop, a romantic dinner, even an impromptu museum date. But you hadn’t, because as much as you’d daydreamed about it, you never thought it would happen.

Spencer Reid had always been a harmless work crush. Brilliant, kind, and charming in his uniquely awkward way, he was the type of man you admired from a distance, assuming he was far too shy—or uninterested—to make a move. Yet somehow, against all odds, you were, nervously getting ready to go on a date with him.

The memory of how it all unfolded still made you smile. You’d been in the work kitchen, fixing your usual afternoon coffee, when Spencer had wandered in with his signature blend of distracted focus and nervous energy. You glanced up as he approached, expecting nothing more than a quick hello and maybe some small talk about the latest case. Instead, he surprised you.

“Hi,” he said, his voice softer than usual, almost hesitant. He stood a little too close to the coffee pot, fiddling with the lid as if it held the courage he needed.

“Hey, Spencer,” you replied, smiling warmly.

They chatted about nothing in particular—books, coffee, the endless intricacies of caffeine preferences—until, without warning, he blurted out the question.

“Would you, um… would you ever want to get coffee together? Like, outside of work?”

Your heart skipped a beat. It wasn’t a grand gesture or a sweeping declaration, but it was undeniably Spencer—quiet, earnest, and completely endearing. You’d barely managed to contain your excitement as you said yes, feeling like a teenager with a crush all over again.

Now, standing in your room, you glanced at the clock. Seven minutes. You grabbed a dress—something simple yet flattering—and slipped it on, your mind racing. You’d been waiting for this moment since the day you joined the team, and now that it was yours, you couldn’t help but wonder how the evening would go. Would he be his usual awkward self? Would he surprise you again with something bold and unexpected?

Whatever happened, you knew one thing: Spencer Reid had already managed to surprise you once.

Seven agonising minutes—each second stretched out like an eternity. The silence was suffocating, gnawing at you from the inside out, until the sudden knock at the door broke the tension. Your heart leapt in your chest. He was here. Spencer was finally here, and your nerves threatened to spill over.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, before opening the door with a forced smile. The sight of him standing there, his hands fidgeting nervously, only made your own anxiety rise. He looked just as uneasy, maybe even more so. His usually confident posture was slightly hunched, his eyes darting to the floor, avoiding yours for a moment before he met your gaze.

“Hey, Spence,” you greeted, your voice trembling slightly despite your best efforts to sound calm.

“Hey, I- um…” Spencer hesitated, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. His voice was soft, uncertain. He stepped forward, pulling a bouquet of lilies from behind his figure. The delicate white flowers were a perfect match for your taste, and you couldn’t help but smile, your nerves easing just a little. “These are for you.”

You felt a flutter in your chest, your smile widening. “Spence, you shouldn’t have,” you said, reaching out to take the bouquet, feeling a warmth in your fingertips as you touched the smooth, delicate petals. The scent of the lilies was intoxicating, and for a moment, you were lost in the fragrance.

He shifted awkwardly, his eyes darting around as if searching for something to say. “I, uh… I thought you’d like them.”

You stepped aside, gesturing for him to come in. “You thought right. Come in, Spence.”

He followed you into your apartment, his presence oddly comforting despite the tension still hanging between them. You quickly moved toward the kitchen, trying to focus on something, anything, to distract yourself from the storm of emotions churning inside you.

As you walked, you couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed. The apartment was far from pristine. The cluttered coffee table, the dishes piled up in the sink—it wasn’t the welcoming space you’d imagined showing him. “I’m so sorry the place is a mess,” you said, your cheeks warming with self-consciousness. You carefully set the lilies down on the counter, your hands trembling slightly as you arranged them.

Spencer’s eyes softened as he glanced around, a small, understanding smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “It’s fine,” he reassured you, his voice gentle. “You should see my place.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle, the sound soft and nervous. As you filled a vase with water, you thought back to the little things he had taught you, like how to properly cut the stems of flowers to help them last longer. You carefully angled the scissors and snipped each stem at a diagonal, the sound of the cut echoing in the quiet kitchen. You remembered him telling you that the angled cut would help the flowers drink better, and you did it now without thinking. The thought of him lingered in your mind as you worked, a smile playing on your lips.

The bouquet was finally settled in the vase, its elegant white petals standing out against the cool glass. You stepped back, admiring the flowers, but it was Spencer’s presence in the room that made everything feel just a little bit brighter.

“Much better. Thank you, Spence,” you said, your voice soft with appreciation as you glanced at the flowers on the kitchen counter. Their vibrant white petals stood out against the cool, clear glass of the vase, the room suddenly feeling a little warmer, a little brighter. You grabbed your bag from the chair, the familiar weight of it grounding you. You turned to face him, your nerves still fluttering, but your excitement growing as the moment approached.

“You ready?” you asked, your voice light but with an undercurrent of anticipation.

Spencer hesitated, his gaze flickering to the floor for a split second. He wasn’t sure if he was ever truly ready, especially not when it came to dates. His stomach twisted in knots, but that nervous energy was overshadowed by the excitement of being with you, of sharing a moment like this.

“Yeah, absolutely,” he replied, a nervous but genuine smile tugging at his lips.

With that, they were out the door, stepping into the crisp air of Washington. The city felt alive around them, the hum of the streets, the distant chatter of people, the soft rustling of leaves in the wind. They strolled side by side, both holding their coffee cups, yours an iced concoction with a splash of cream, his steaming hot with a swirl of cinnamon. He wasn’t usually one for aimless wandering, but as he looked over at you, he realized that this moment was worth it.

Your face, illuminated by the golden afternoon sun, was pure contentment. Your eyes sparkled as they took in the world around you, lighting up at every little thing. Whether it was a street performer, a stray cat lazily sunning itself, or the way the city skyline framed the horizon, you had a way of making the mundane seem magical. And he, well, he would do anything to keep seeing that smile on your face, to be the reason your eyes shone with that infectious joy.

As they passed a little street corner, your gaze drifted across the road, and your eyes lit up once again. There, nestled between a café and a bookstore, was a small record store with a neon sign flashing softly in the window.

“Can we go in?” you asked, your voice filled with excitement, your fingers already tugging gently at his sleeve.

Spencer followed your gaze, his heart doing a little flip at the eagerness in your voice. You had that effect on him—the way you made even the simplest moments feel special. “Of course,” he said with a smile, his voice soft but sincere. “Lead the way.”

And just like that, they crossed the street together, the world outside fading into the background as they stepped into the warmth of the record store. The air smelled faintly of old vinyl and coffee, and the soft hum of music played in the background, creating the perfect atmosphere for them to lose themselves in.

“Smell that?” you asked, your nose lifting to the air as you inhaled deeply, a mischievous grin tugging at your lips. “That’s the smell of the best way to listen to music.” The scent of aged vinyl, dust, and nostalgia filled the space, wrapping around them like a cozy blanket. You laughed at yourself, a light, airy sound that seemed to match the atmosphere of the record store perfectly. Spencer couldn’t help but join in, his laugh a little quieter but no less genuine, his eyes softening as he watched you.

“You spend too much time with Rossi,” Spencer teased, his fingers flicking through the rows of records, his gaze scanning the colourful covers. He was looking for something—anything—that caught his attention, but his mind was more on the way you lit up in places like this, surrounded by things you loved.

You raised an eyebrow, feigning offence as you met his gaze, your hand pausing mid-air over a stack of albums. “I am offended by your words, Dr. Reid,” you replied, your tone playful, your eyes sparkling with a teasing edge.

Spencer smiled, the edges of his mouth curling up into something warmer as he continued flipping through the records, pretending to be serious. “You should be. That’s a direct quote from Rossi himself,” he said, holding up a record sleeve and giving it a quick glance before setting it back down.

Your laugh filled the space again, bright and free. You pulled another record from the shelf, this one with a faded cover you recognised from years ago. “Well, if I spend too much time with Rossi, then I guess I’m doomed to become a vinyl snob,” you joked, flipping the record over to check the tracklist. You ran your fingers over the edges of the sleeve, feeling the familiar grooves of the cover, the little imperfections that only came with time.

You glanced over at Spencer, watching him for a moment as he flipped through his own stack. There was something so easy about being with him here, in this small, dimly lit shop filled with memories and melodies. “I mean, how else are you supposed to listen to music?” you asked, raising an eyebrow dramatically as you glanced down at the album in your hands. Then, with a theatrical flair, you placed your free hand on your hip and tilted your head back, doing your best (and rather exaggerated) impersonation of Rossi. “It’s the only way to really appreciate it. The crackle, the warmth… it’s like you can feel the music,” you said, making a show of puffing out an imaginary cigar and letting the smoke trail into the air.

Spencer’s laughter was immediate, loud, and genuine, as he looked over at you, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Oh my God,” he chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. “You are way too good at that.”

You grinned, clearly pleased with yourself. “I’ve been practicing,” you said, striking a mock pose, your hand still poised as if holding the cigar, before you finally broke into another fit of laughter. Spencer couldn’t help but join you, his smile wide and full of affection. “Rossi would be proud,” he teased, his voice light, but there was a fondness in the way he looked at you.

You winked, a mischievous glint in your eyes. “Well, if I’m ever in need of a new career, I think I’ve got this down.”

By the time you reached the end of your long search through the endless rows of records, you had carefully chosen a couple you were willing to splurge on. Cradling the records against your chest, you joined the line at the register, the buzz of the store humming around you.

When your turn came, you placed the records on the counter, chatting casually with the cashier as you fied through your bag for your wallet. Your voice was light, a touch distracted as your fingers rifled through your belongings.

Unbeknownst to you, Spencer had stepped closer, the faintest hint of a mischievous smile on his lips. Without a word, he slipped his card onto the reader. The machine beeped, signalling the completed transaction just as you finally found your wallet and looked up.

Confused, your gaze darted between the cashier and Spencer, who was already sliding his card back into his wallet with an air of nonchalance.

“Spencer!” you gasped, stepping out of line with him as they headed toward the exit. You gave him that look—the one that said he didn’t have to do what he just did. Your lips parted to speak, but he beat you to it.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you said softly, your voice laced with both gratitude and protest. Your hazel eyes darted to the floor for a moment before flicking back to him, catching the warm, self-assured look in his own. You didn’t like people spending money on you when you had plenty of your own. The records weren’t cheap, either.

Spencer, however, shrugged it off with a quiet confidence that surprised even himself. “I wanted to,” he replied simply. His voice was calm but firm, the corners of his mouth quirking up into a gentle smile. “I asked you to come out with me, didn’t I?”

You sighed, your protest melting into a small, affectionate smile as they stepped out into the crisp air. It was such a Spencer thing to do—thoughtful and kind, but completely unnecessary. Yet, as they walked side by side, you couldn’t deny the warmth his gesture left in your chest.

You glanced up at him, your eyes twinkling with a playful edge as you broke the silence. “You’re lucky I agreed,” you teased, a grin tugging at your lips.

Spencer chuckled softly, glancing down at you. “Oh, I know,” he said, his voice low but filled with humor. “Trust me, I’m very lucky.”

They continued to walk aimlessly, the crisp evening air brushing against their faces as they strolled. Spencer was mid-thought, caught up in some internal musing when your voice broke through.

“Oh my God, Chinatown, Spencer!” you exclaimed, your voice brimming with excitement, like a child spotting a candy store.

Your eyes lit up as they landed on the colourful archway marking the entrance to Chinatown. You couldn’t quite explain it, but Chinatowns had always been your favourite places to visit. Maybe it was the vibrant atmosphere, the intricate details of the buildings, or the way everyone seemed to know one another, creating a sense of community that felt warm and welcoming. You loved every bit of it.

Without realizing it, you grabbed Spencer’s hand and tugged him along with you, your excitement bubbling over. Your grip was firm but warm, and Spencer—despite the suddenness—didn’t resist. In fact, he found himself smiling as you led him toward the bustling street.

Your face glowed brighter than he’d ever seen as you took in the sight of the ornately decorated gate ahead, its vivid reds and golds shining under the string lights that crisscrossed above the street. He didn’t know if it was your enthusiasm or the way your joy seemed to radiate outward, but he was utterly mesmerized, trailing behind you like he was under a spell.

“We should get noodles—if you’re okay with that?” you asked, snapping him out of his thoughts.

Spencer blinked, realizing he’d been staring at you with a soft, almost dreamy expression. The way you looked at him then—like he was the best person in the world just for being here with you—made his heart skip.

“Yeah, of course,” he replied, his voice steady but his heart racing. Without thinking, he gave your hand a gentle squeeze.

Your cheeks flushed at the small gesture, and Spencer caught the faintest flicker of a smile as they continued walking hand in hand. The streets were alive with energy, from the scent of freshly steamed buns wafting from carts to the hum of chatter in the air.

Eventually, they stumbled upon a quaint bakery that led to an underground noodle bar tucked just below it. The combination was irresistible. As they waited for a table, your eyes lit up when you spotted cheese-filled mooncakes in the bakery display.

“I have to try one of these,” you said eagerly, placing your order while Spencer watched you with quiet amusement.

Moments later, you held the warm pastry in your hands, your face glowing with anticipation. “This is going to be the best cheese pull you’ve ever seen,” you declared, laughing with a childlike excitement that made Spencer’s chest tighten.

You took a bite, and as you pulled back, the melted cheese stretched from your mouth to the mooncake, just as you had promised. Your eyes widened with delight, and your laughter rang out, light and contagious.

Spencer couldn’t help but laugh too, shaking his head in amazement. You were like a child in the best possible way, unguarded and full of joy.

“You were right,” he said, still chuckling. “That’s definitely the best cheese pull I’ve ever seen.”

Your grin widened, and for a moment, Spencer forgot about the bustling streets around them. All he could see was your—glowing, carefree, and absolutely captivating.

The waiter called out, “Sī bīn sài Ruì dé?” his tone polite and slightly accented as he scanned the small crowd in the restaurant’s waiting area. Spencer Reid’s head lifted, recognizing the sound of his name rendered in Mandarin. He gave a small, sheepish smile, adjusting his scarf as he turned to look at you.

You arched an amused brow, gesturing toward the waiter with a tilt of your head. “That’s you, Dr. Reid.”

Spencer nodded, his hand lightly brushing against your lower back as he led the way down the narrow staircase into the cozy, warmly lit restaurant below. The rich scent of soy sauce, garlic, and sesame oil wafted through the air, mingling with the quiet murmur of diners enjoying their meals.

The waiter guided them to a private booth tucked into the corner of the room, its dark wooden walls offering a sense of intimacy. Spencer gestured for you to slide in first, always the gentleman, before settling across from you.

The two opened their menus, the glossy pages filled with enticing photos and descriptions of diyous written in both Mandarin and English. Spencer scanned the list with the precision of someone cataloging data, while you took a more casual approach, letting your eyes linger on the pictures.

“What are you thinking of getting?” Spencer asked, glancing up at you. His hazel eyes held a mix of curiosity and hesitation, likely calculating the probabilities of making the wrong choice in an unfamiliar culinary landscape.

You smiled, leaning slightly over the menu to point at the dishes you had your eye on. “I was thinking Beef Noodle Soup and maybe a fried rice platter. If you wanted to share?”

Your suggestion was casual, but you knew Spencer well enough to recognise that sharing food might not be his first choice. The germaphobic tendencies you’d seen surface in the past made your offer feel like a gamble. If he declined, you’d simply adjust your order—no harm, no foul.

Spencer’s brow furrowed slightly, his fingers drumming lightly against the edge of the menu. “Sharing…” he began, his tone thoughtful. “It’s not usually my preference, but—” He paused, studying your face as though weighing the pros and cons of stepping out of his comfort zone. “I think I could make an exception. Just… no double-dipping,” he added with a faint smile, his attempt at humour not lost on you.

You chuckled softly, your shoulders relaxing. “Deal. I’ll even promise to use the serving spoon if it helps.”

His smile widened, the corners of his mouth quirking upward in a way that made your heart skip a beat. “That would be appreciated.”

As the waiter returned to take their order, Spencer let you take the lead, quietly observing your interactions. The way you spoke with ease, your smile lighting up the space between them, was something he never grew tired of.

After the waiter left, the two settled into conversation, the hum of the restaurant serving as a comforting backdrop. You caught him glancing at you from time to time, his expression soft and unguarded.

“Two Beef Noodle Soup and fried rice,” he mused after a moment. “Good choices. Did you know Beef Noodle Soup is considered a national dish in Taiwan? There’s even an annual festival where chefs compete to create the best version of it.”

Your eyes sparkled with interest. “I didn’t know that. How do you even know things like that off the top of your head?”

Spencer shrugged, a faint blush creeping up his neck. “I read a lot.”

You laughed, leaning forward slightly. “Of course you do. But that’s one of the things I love about you, you know. You always have the most random, fascinating facts tucked away in that big brain of yours.”

His blush deepened, and he ducked his head slightly, fiddling with the edge of his napkin. “I’m glad you think so,” he murmured.

Their food arrived not long after, the diyous steaming and fragrant, the aroma instantly making your stomach rumble. You reached for your chopsticks, but before you could start serving yourself, Spencer gently took the plate from your side.

“Allow me,” he said, his tone soft but resolute, as though he had been planning this move.

You blinked in surprise, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “Wow, chivalry isn’t dead after all. I was starting to wonder.”

Spencer shot you a mock-offended look as he carefully portioned out some of the sizzling stir-fry onto your plate. “Hey, I can be chivalrous. I just… don’t get much practice. Sharing food isn’t exactly in my top five skills.”

You laughed, nudging his arm. “You don’t say. Should I feel honoured or concerned?”

“Definitely honoured,” he replied, finishing your plate with an exaggerated flourish. “This is a rare occurrence. Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

“Oh, I’m definitely documenting this,” you teased, pulling out your phone and snapping a quick photo of him mid-serve. “The great Dr. Spencer Reid, putting others first. What’s next, you’re going to offer me the last bite?”

Spencer smirked as he served himself. “Let’s not get carried away.”

As they began eating, you picked up a particularly long noodle with your chopsticks and dangled it in front of your face. “Do you think this could double as a jump rope for ants?”

Spencer nearly choked on his bite of rice, laughing. “That is… an incredibly specific visual. Why ants? Why not, I don’t know, mice?”

“Too predictable,” you replied, twirling the noodle like you were considering its durability. “Ants have more finesse. They’d appreciate the artistry.”

“Ah, yes, the ant gymnast community,” Spencer said, adjusting his glasses and leaning forward as though about to deliver a lecture. “You know, ants can actually carry up to fifty times their body weight, so a noodle would be the perfect workout tool.”

You grinned, using your chopsticks to make the noodles “jump” across your plate. “You’re making my case for me. Ant Olympics, here we come.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Thank you,” you said brightly, slurping the noodle up with a playful flourish.

Spencer raised an eyebrow and then, without a word, picked up a dumpling with his chopsticks and held it in front of his mouth. He narrowed his eyes, suddenly serious. “If I were an ant, this would be like carrying a wrecking ball.”

You burst out laughing, nearly dropping your chopsticks. “You’re so weird!”

“Only because you bring it out of me,” he replied, popping the dumpling into his mouth with a small, triumphant smile.

They continued their meal, each taking turns to make the other laugh with increasingly absurd food-related jokes. Spencer even attempted to balance a broccoli floret on his nose, which ended with you snorting and him losing the floret mid-laugh.

By the time they finished, your sides ached from laughing, and Spencer looked more relaxed than you’d seen him in weeks. As he reached for the bill, you caught his hand and grinned.

“See? Sharing isn’t so bad,” you teased.

He smiled back, his eyes warm. “Only with you.”

Once they left Chinatown, the streets of Washington, D.C. buzzed with life, but Spencer and you were lost in their own little world, laughing uncontrollably over the events of the day. Every inside joke and playful jab sent them spiraling into fits of laughter, their shared energy a bright spot in the bustling city. For Spencer, the date had already been perfect, but he wasn’t ready for it to end just yet. He had one last plan to cap off the evening, though it wouldn’t come into play for hours. Until then, he just needed to keep you distracted.

You nudged him playfully as they strolled along. “Alright, something you never got to do as a kid but always wanted to,” you said, your tone suddenly serious despite the twinkle of curiosity in your eyes.

Spencer hesitated, the question catching him off guard. He rubbed the back of his neck, a sheepish smile creeping across his face. “I don’t know,” he began, his voice soft. “I’ve always liked reading books and spending time with my mom.” He glanced at you, embarrassed by how ordinary his answer sounded.

You gave his hand a gentle squeeze, grounding him. “That’s sweet, Spence,” you said softly. “But come on, there’s gotta be something.”

He exhaled a small laugh, his gaze shifting to the pavement as he admitted, “Well, I always wanted to play Laser Tag.”

You stopped in your tracks, your hazel eyes wide with disbelief. “Wait. You’ve never played Laser Tag?”

Spencer shrugged, his hands shoved deep into his coat pockets. “I mean, no, not really. It just never came up.”

You were already shaking your head in mock horror. “That’s unacceptable. We’re fixing this right now.”

“It’s fine. We don’t have to—”

But you were already tugging him along with determined speed. “Nope. This is happening. You’re about to experience the childhood you missed out on, and it’s going to be amazing.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle at your enthusiasm, your energy was contagious. Before he knew it, they were standing at the counter of a nearby arcade, you grinning ear to ear as you requested two tickets for Laser Tag.

Spencer tried one last time to protest. “Really, you don’t have to do this—”

“Consider it my treat,” you interrupted, handing over your card to the cashier. “A thank-you for the best day I’ve had in a long time.”

The sincerity in your voice silenced his objections, and he felt his heart swell. As the cashier handed them their gear, you turned to him with a mischievous glint in your eye.

“Alright, Dr. Reid,” you teased, strapping on your vest. “Let’s see if all that genius-level intellect helps you out on the battlefield.”

Spencer laughed, shaking his head. “You’re going to regret this. I may not have played before, but I’m pretty sure I’m about to win.”

“Bold of you to assume,” you shot back with a smirk, grabbing his hand and pulling him toward the arena.

As they stepped into the dimly lit room filled with neon lights and fog machines, Spencer felt an unexpected rush of excitement. You turned to him, your face illuminated by the glowing lights, and he couldn’t help but smile. Maybe he’d been missing out, but with you by his side, he was more than ready to make up for lost time.

The neon lights flickered, casting an otherworldly glow over the Laser Tag arena. Fog swirled around Spencer and you as they ducked behind barriers and navigated the maze-like layout. The sound of distant footsteps and laser beams zipping through the air made it feel like they’d stepped into a sci-fi movie.

Spencer crouched low, trying to strategize his next move, but your sudden battle cry made him jump. You darted out from behind a glowing pillar, your laughter echoing through the arena as you fired your laser, landing a direct hit on his vest.

“Gotcha!” you shouted triumphantly, your grin wide and uncontainable.

Spencer stumbled back in mock defeat, his hands raised. “Okay, okay, truce! I’m still learning!”

You rolled your eyes, playfully wagging a finger at him. “No mercy, Reid. You’re my bitch now.”

You turned to sprint away, but Spencer surprised you by diving behind a barrier and quickly firing back. The red lights on your vest lit up, signalling a hit.

“Ha! Who’s the genius now?” he teased, standing up with a victorious smirk.

You clutched your chest dramatically, pretending to be mortally wounded. “Betrayed… by my own date!” you gasped, collapsing onto a nearby barrier.

Spencer burst into laughter, his usually reserved demeanor completely melting away. “You’re ridiculous,” he said, shaking his head as he helped your back up.

“And you love it,” you quipped, sticking your tongue out before taking off into the maze again.

The game continued, a back-and-forth of sneak attacks, exaggerated reactions, and endless laughter. Every hit was met with playful banter, and every moment felt like peeling back the layers of their guarded hearts. Spencer, who had always been so serious and calculated, found himself letting go, caught up in the pure, childlike joy of the moment.

At one point, they both ended up crouched behind the same barrier, breathless and laughing so hard their sides hurt. You leaned your head against his shoulder, your face flushed from running. “Okay, I admit it,” you said between giggles. “You’re pretty good for a first-timer.”

Spencer glanced at you, his hazel eyes sparkling in the dim light. “I had a good teacher,” he replied softly.

For a moment, the chaos around them faded. They were just two people, sitting side by side, finding solace in each other’s company.

You nudged him gently. “See? Childhood dream fulfilled. What’s next on your list?”

He chuckled, his gaze dropping to the glowing floor. “Honestly? I think this might be enough for one night.”

“Enough?” you teased. “We’ve barely scratched the surface! Next time, we’re doing bumper cars.”

Spencer laughed, the sound light and genuine. “I think I’m going to need a lot of next times with you,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your expression softened, and you reached out to take his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Then we’ll make that happen,” you promised.

As the game timer buzzed, signalling the end of their session, Spencer and you made their way out of the arena, still laughing and teasing each other. A leaderboard lit up on the screen near the exit, and Spencer froze, his eyes widening.

“No way,” he murmured, stepping closer to the display.

You leaned over his shoulder, squinting at the screen. Your jaw dropped when you saw his name at the top of the list. “You won?!” you exclaimed, grabbing his arm and shaking it excitedly. “Spencer Reid, first-time Laser Tag champion! I’m so proud of you!”

He turned to you, his grin almost bashful but undeniably proud. “Beginner’s luck, maybe?”

“Absolutely not,” you said, your face lighting up with genuine excitement. “You crushed it out there! I mean, I’m a little salty that you beat me, but still—you’re officially a Laser Tag legend.”

Spencer laughed, the sound bubbling out of him with pure joy. “A legend, huh? I’ll take it.”

You playfully bumped your shoulder against his. “You better. This is a big deal! You’ve got bragging rights now.”

As they stepped out of the arcade into the cool night air, you looped your arm through his, your energy still electric. “Okay, next time we’re teaming up. Imagine what we could do together!”

Spencer looked down at you, his heart warm and full. “I think we’d be unstoppable,” he said, his voice soft but confident.

As they walked down the busy streets, still laughing and recounting the best moments of the game, Spencer couldn’t help but feel like he’d won more than just Laser Tag. With you by his side, he’d found something he hadn’t even realized he’d been missing—a piece of joy, of freedom, of connection that made him feel whole again.

As they continued down the lively streets of D.C., Spencer’s smile lingered, a quiet sense of contentment radiating from him. You were still buzzing from the Laser Tag victory, your hand resting comfortably in his as they walked.

“Alright, Dr. Reid,” you said playfully, looking up at him. “What’s next on this magical mystery tour of a date? Because if it’s as fun as Laser Tag, I might actually burst from happiness.”

Spencer chuckled, his hazel eyes glinting with mischief. “Well,” he began, his voice soft but teasing, “I do have one more thing planned. But it’s a surprise.”

Your eyes widened with curiosity. “A surprise? Spencer Reid, you’re full of secrets tonight. What is it?”

He shook his head, his lips curving into a sly smile. “You’ll see. Just trust me.”

“Always,” you said with a grin, letting him guide you down a quieter street.

The hum of the city faded as they walked, replaced by a peaceful stillness. You tilted your head, trying to guess where he was taking you, but Spencer kept quiet, his excitement barely contained. Finally, they rounded a corner, and your breath caught as the grand façade of the National Gallery of Art came into view, illuminated beautifully against the night sky.

“Spencer,” you whispered, awe in your voice. “The art museum? It’s closed right now.”

He smiled, his fingers lacing tighter with yours. “Not for us.”

As if on cue, a side door to the museum opened, and a man in his mid-thirties stepped out, waving at Spencer.

“Dr. Reid!” the man called warmly. “Right on time.”

“Thanks, Jacob,” Spencer said, his voice full of gratitude. He turned to you, his expression soft. “Jacob’s a curator here. He agreed to stay late and let us in. Just us.”

Your jaw dropped as you looked between Spencer and Jacob. “You’re kidding. We get the whole museum to ourselves?”

Spencer nodded, his heart fluttering at the pure joy on your face. “I thought you might like it. I know how much you love art, and, well… I wanted to do something special for you.”

You blinked back a sudden wave of emotion, your chest tightening with affection. “Spencer, this is… this is incredible. Thank you.”

He smiled, a little shyly. “You’re worth it.”

Jacob opened the door wider, gesturing them inside. “Enjoy yourselves. I’ll be in my office if you need anything.”

As they stepped into the museum, the quiet echoed around them, amplifying the beauty of the vast, empty halls. The dim lighting highlighted the paintings and sculptures, making it feel like they’d stepped into another world.

You turned to Spencer, your eyes shining. “This is the most thoughtful thing anyone’s ever done for me.”

He ducked his head, his cheeks tinged pink. “I just wanted to give you something memorable. Something… magical.”

You reached out, taking his hand in yours. “You’ve done more than that, Spence. This is perfect.”

He smiled, his heart swelling at your words. “Come on,” he said softly, leading you toward the first exhibit. “Let’s explore.”

And together, hand in hand, they wandered through the museum, the art and the quiet intimacy of the moment weaving a memory neither of them would ever forget.

The museum was humour, the kind of quiet that invited reverence and reflection. Their footsteps echoed faintly as they moved through the halls, pausing here and there to admire a painting or sculpture. Spencer’s hand lingered at your lower back, a subtle gesture to guide you but also to stay close, as if the intimacy of the space demanded it.

They came to a room filled with sculptures, the soft lighting casting long shadows that danced on the walls. Your attention was immediately drawn to a particular piece—a sculpture of two women, one older, one younger, the younger standing on the shoulders of the older as if reaching for something just out of sight.

You stopped in your tracks, your breath catching slightly. Spencer noticed your stillness and took a step back, letting your take in the piece without interruption. Your expression shifted, your usual brightness giving way to something quieter, deeper.

After a few moments, he couldn’t help but break the silence, his voice soft so as not to disturb the moment. “How does it make you feel?”

You didn’t turn to him right away. Your eyes remained fixed on the sculpture, your hands loosely clasped in front of you. When you finally spoke, your voice was low but steady, carrying the weight of your thoughts.

“Seen,” you said simply, then paused as if to find the right words. “In a weird way. I don’t think I’d be who I am without my mother, and this piece proves it in a way. It makes me feel less alone too, like I’m not the only one who sees myself this way.”

Spencer tilted his head, his gaze flickering between you and the sculpture. He could see it now—the younger woman’s outstretched hands, the older one’s steadying stance. The balance between them spoke volumes about trust, sacrifice, and love.

“You feel like you’re standing on your shoulders,” he said softly, almost to himself.

You nodded, finally glancing at him. “Yeah. Every step I’ve taken has been because you let me stand on your foundation. Even when things weren’t perfect, you were still there, holding me up.” You smiled faintly, a bittersweet curve of your lips. “It’s nice to see it represented like this, you know? It’s like… someone else understands.”

Spencer took a small step closer, his voice gentle. “You’d be proud of you. I don’t think anyone could look at what you’ve built for yourself and feel anything less.”

You turned fully to face him now, your hazel eyes soft but shining. “Thank you, Spence. That means a lot.”

He gave you a small smile, his hands in his pockets as he glanced back at the sculpture. “It’s beautiful. Just like the way you see the world.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “You’re such a charmer, you know that?”

“Not really,” he admitted with a small chuckle, “but I mean it.”

For a while longer, they stayed there, side by side, letting the sculpture’s quiet power wash over them. In that moment, it wasn’t just art—it was a connection, a shared understanding that went deeper.

The weight of the moment lifted as they moved on, wandering into another section of the museum. The air between them felt lighter now, a quiet understanding still lingering but giving way to the playful energy they always seemed to share.

It started with a chuckle from you, your hand covering your mouth as you stopped in front of a sculpture of a stern-looking man with an exaggeratedly large nose. “Okay, tell me that doesn’t look like Hotch when he’s annoyed,” you whispered, your eyes sparkling mischievously.

Spencer glanced at the sculpture and bit back a laugh. “It’s the eyebrows,” he said, nodding in agreement.

You gasped, pointing. “The eyebrows! Yes! It’s like he’s about to say, ‘Reid, stop overexplaining.’"

Spencer laughed, his face lighting up in a way that made your heart skip. “Okay, okay, but look at this one,” he said, leading you to a nearby bust of a man whose face was frozen in a hilariously exaggerated scowl. “Tell me that’s not Rossi after someone forgets to bring him coffee.”

You burst out laughing, clapping a hand over your mouth to muffle the sound. “Oh my God, it’s perfect!” you managed between giggles.

They moved from sculpture to sculpture, pointing out ridiculous expressions and coming up with stories for each one. Spencer, ever the genius, concocted elaborate backstories for the pieces, each one more absurd than the last.

“This one,” he said, gesturing to a marble figure of a man dramatically clutching his chest, “was probably just told that his favorite gelato shop ran out of pistachio.”

You doubled over laughing, your cheeks aching from smiling so much. “Stop, you’re going to get us kicked out!” you said, though your laughter made it clear you didn’t mean it.

“You’re the one who started it,” he teased, his grin wide and unrestrained.

They rounded a corner and found themselves in front of a statue of a cherub with a particularly mischievous expression. Spencer tilted his head. “This one’s definitely plotting something. Probably planning to steal cookies from the other cherubs.”

You wiped a tear from your eyes, still laughing. “You’re too good at this. Have you been secretly practicing?”

He shrugged, a playful glint in his eye. “What can I say? I’m a natural.”

As they continued exploring, their laughter echoed softly through the empty halls, their joy filling the quiet space. For a little while, they let themselves be kids again—carefree, silly, and completely immersed in the moment.

Spencer, usually so reserved and composed, felt freer than he had in years. And you, watching him let loose, felt your heart swell with happiness. It wasn’t just about the art or the laughter—it was about being together, sharing a moment that was uniquely theirs.

When they finally paused to catch their breath, leaning against a wall in between fits of giggles, Spencer looked at you with a soft smile. “This might be the most fun I’ve ever had in a museum.”

You grinned, your eyes shining. “I told you, you just needed the right partner in crime.”

He nodded, his expression warm. “I think I found them.”

And with that, they set off again, hand in hand, ready to see what other treasures—and laughs—the museum had to offer.

As they wandered back toward the grand central hall of the museum, the playful energy between them began to settle into something softer, quieter. The warm lighting of the space casts a golden glow over the room, highlighting the details of the sculptures and paintings around them. You paused by a large marble statue of a couple intertwined in an eternal embrace, your gaze lingering on the delicate way the sculptor had captured the curve of their hands and the tilt of their heads.

Spencer stopped beside you, his eyes following yours to the statue. He said nothing, but the air between them shifted, heavy with unspoken thoughts. The laughter from earlier seemed to hang in the distance, replaced by a gentle stillness.

You turned your head to look at him, your expression soft, your lips parted slightly as if you wanted to say something but couldn’t quite find the words. Spencer’s gaze flickered from the statue to you, his heart stuttering as he caught the way the golden light played on your features.

Neityour of them spoke. They didn’t need to.

Spencer’s hand reached out, slow and hesitant, his fingertips brushing against yours. The touch was featyour-light, but it sent a ripple through both of them, grounding them in the moment.

Your eyes searched his, questioning, yet trusting. He took a step closer, the space between them shrinking until it was almost nonexistent.

Your breath hitched, your heart racing as his face hovered close to yours. The world around them seemed to blur, the art and the quiet fading into the background as the only thing that mattered was him—his eyes, his presence, the warmth of him so close.

Spencer hesitated, his gaze flicking to your lips and back to your eyes, as if silently asking for permission. You gave him the faintest nod, your lips curving into a soft, encouraging smile.

It was painfully slow, the kind of moment that stretched on forever, but neither of them rushed it. Their foreheads brushed first, a tentative, intimate touch that sent shivers down your spine. His nose bumped yours lightly, their breaths mingling in the small space between them.

And then, finally, achingly, his lips met yours.

The kiss was soft, and unhurried, a perfect balance of tenderness and curiosity. His hand cupped your cheek gently, his thumb brushing your skin as if you were something fragile, something to be cherished You leaned into him, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt to steady yourself as your heart soared.

Time seemed to stop entirely. There was no overthinking, no second-guessing—just the quiet certainty that this was exactly where they were meant to be.

When they finally pulled back, their faces still close, neither of them spoke right away. Spencer’s eyes searched yours, his expression a mix of wonder and disbelief, as if he couldn’t quite believe what had just happened.

You smiled softly, your thumb brushing over the back of his hand. “That felt… right,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Spencer nodded, his lips curving into the faintest smile. “It did,” he agreed, his voice equally quiet.

And as they stood there, bathed in the golden light of the museum, they both knew they’d just shared a moment they’d carry with them forever.

Hand in hand, they made their way back toward the main entrance of the museum, their fingers still entwined as they shared quiet smiles and the lingering warmth of the kiss. The halls, now empty of their playful laughter, seemed to hum with the remnants of the night’s magic, a soft kind of peace wrapping around them.

When they reached the front, they were met by Jacob, who was standing by the gift shop, a welcoming grin on his face.

“Did you two enjoy the private tour?” he asked, clearly amused by the soft glow in their expressions.

“It was perfect,” You replied, your voice light with contentment. “We couldn’t have asked for a better night.”

Spencer gave Jacob a small nod of thanks, and they made their way toward the gift shop. Of course, you, ever the curious soul, immediately started scanning the shelves, your eyes lighting up as you spotted a section of artist books and unique prints.

Spencer stood back a little, letting you take it all in. It was clear from the way you were absorbed in the display that you were in your element. Your fingers traced the spines of the books, your eyes lingering on the vibrant art, the words, and the stories behind them. It was a rare thing to see you so lost in admiration, and he couldn’t help but smile as he watched you, appreciating the way you connected with the world through art.

You picked up one of the books, flipping it open to the first page. “Spence,” you called softly, turning to him with a gentle smile. “Which artist was it who made that sculpture of the two women?”

Spencer walked over to you, his gaze following yours to the shelf where the artist’s work was displayed. He didn’t need to think twice. “Julie Rrap,” he replied.

You nodded, your fingers brushing the cover of the book titled Body Double. You seemed almost hesitant at first, as if deciding whether or not to pick it up. But then, with a quiet sense of reverence, you carefully opened the book and placed it in your hands, holding it close to your chest for a moment before glancing back at Spencer.

“Thank you,” you said softly, your voice filled with gratitude. There was something in your eyes—something that said this moment meant more to you than you could express.

Spencer smiled warmly, his heart swelling a little. “I’m glad you like it.”

You ran your thumb along the edges of the book, your gaze still soft as you flipped through the pages, your eyes drinking in the art and the words. It was as if the world had slowed down again, and they were both wrapped in the quiet, intimate moment of shared appreciation.

“I think I’m going to get this,” you said, your voice thoughtful, almost to yourself. “It’s… I don’t know. It feels important.”

Spencer nodded, his gaze still on you as you carefully placed the book in your arms, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “It’s yours. You deserve it.”

Spencer reached into his pocket as they approached the counter, his hand finding yours once more, giving it a reassuring squeeze. He placed the book and a few other items you had picked out onto the counter. Jacob, who had been standing nearby, gave them both a knowing smile as he rang up the items.

“You two seem like you had a good time,” Jacob said, his tone light and friendly.

Spencer smiled, pulling out his wallet. “It was a perfect night, thanks to you.”

You turned to Jacob with a grateful expression, your eyes bright. “Thank you for letting us stay after hours. It really made the evening special.”

Jacob nodded, giving you a small wink. “Anytime. Glad you enjoyed it. You two have a good rest of the night.”

After Spencer finished paying, he gathered the items and handed them to you, who accepted them with a soft smile. “Thanks again,” you said, your voice warm.

With a final wave to Jacob, they left the gift shop and stepped into the cool night air. The city was quieter now, the streets bathed in the soft glow of streetlights. As they walked toward Spencer’s apartment, the evening felt like a perfect bookend to a day full of laughter, art, and unexpected moments of connection.

Spencer, his arm casually draped over your shoulder, pulled you closer as they walked. “So, what do you think? A quiet night in to wrap things up?” he asked, a playful note in his voice.

You smiled, your eyes glinting with excitement. “Sounds perfect.”

They continued down the sidewalk, their footsteps in sync, the world around them fading away as they looked forward to whatever came next—together.

thank you for reading!

please like & reblog if you enjoyed!

part two!

masterlist!

[thewitchblue]

"You know, in the animal kingdom, this rock would be a proposal."

Tim mused as he took it from your hands. Don't ask how he knows penguins and otters give rocks to show affection and also mate for life. He was in a rabbit hole after the first rock you gave him. You said slowly,

"Tim... humans propose with rocks."

Tim gave a distracted hum as he eyed the rock you gave him. You found a rock that you said was "pretty like his eyes." A beautiful blue agate you found near a lake when you went swimming a few days ago.

It didn't even register in his brain what you said. He was too distracted by the rock you gave him. He turned it over in his hand and marvelled at the beautiful shimmer it produced.

"Yeah, but this is a rock rock. Not a diamond."

He said. His eyes turned to you again. You looked incredibly amused. A rock rock? You wanted to laugh. You've been giving him rocks for the entirety of your friendship. It's become your thing to randomly hand him a rock.

You're hoping one day he'll realise that the rock means you are interested in him romantically, but you were starting to doubt it will ever happen, or maybe he's simply ignoring the message.

"Give it back if it's just a rock then."

You knew he wouldn't give you the rock. He hoarded everything you gave him like a squirrel hoarding its nuts for the winter.

"No take backs."

He replied as he held the stone closer to his chest. You laughed at his suddenly very protective stance. It's adorable seeing him turn into a pouty toddler.

"Stop being cute or I'm going to vomit."

Jason said as he passed into the kitchen. He says that as if he doesn't internally smile at the cute duo. He can't help his romantic heart from its love for love, as much as it annoys him.

You were so amused by Tim's fascination. It's like this every time you give him a rock. He has a full rock collection at this point, all gifted from you. He never stopped to think about why you give him all the pretty and rare stones. He accepts every stone with as much love and adoration, even the plain ones that you grabbed while hanging out with him.

Tim smiled as he said,

"I might turn this into a ring."

He really loved your rock giving. He wanted to memorialise your special gift giving. He's grown to love rocks because of you.

"Are you saying you would say yes if I proposed right here, right now?"

You asked. It was a bold move to ask him such a question, but a necessary one at this point.

"Yes."

He said confidently. Jason shook his head and sighed at his oblivious brother. He's stupid not to see how obvious you were. Where is his brain when it comes to personal relationships? Jason started eating the granola bar he stole when Alfred wasn't looking. He wanted to watch the show about to happen.

You shrugged and casually said,

"We're engaged then."

It took Tim a minute to comprehend what you said. Did he hear you correctly? What just happened? Are you skipping straight to marriage without dating him? He was extremely confused.

Jason was also confused, but more about why you decided it would be a good idea to propose, especially so casually. He knew you were smitten, but now is kind of a bad time to randomly propose. You completely skipped the romantic build-up. Tim asked,

"Wait, what?"

You smiled fondly at him. You knew he'd be confused, but you were getting annoyed with him not taking the hint. You repeated,

"We're engaged now."

It took a minute for him to realise how serious you actually were. You stared at each other as his brain tried to catch up with what had just happened.

"You're not joking?"

He said in a mystified tone. You shook your head.

"Nope."

What does he even say to something like that? It came out of nowhere, in his eyes. He stated plainly,

"You skipped dating me."

You shrugged. You've had a crush on him for well over two years. You've done all the couple things aside from kissing. Why not propose? The dating was never going to happen at the rate of which you were going. You said,

"I don't care. Do you?"

He looked at you with a serious expression for a moment. You weren't kidding about this proposal in the slightest. His eyes turned back to the rock. He supposes an agate is a gemstone, which he could definitely turn into a pair of engagement rings.

He decided he didn't care about skipping the dating phase. It saves him the effort of planning a proposal further down the line anyway. He shrugged and said,

"Okay."

Jason didn't know what just happened. Did Tim seriously get engaged before his eyes? And accept? Is the wedding going to be as equally unusual? What did he just witness? His brother is an anomaly. Jason said,

"I'm telling Dick."

It sounded like a threat, but Tim didn't care. He knew the future him was going to care when Dick dramatically announced the engagement, but that's not a problem for now.

You kissed him for the first time and almost laughed at the ridiculousness of the situation. You're engaged! You never thought this would happen!

Jason gagged and left, but you could make out the tiny smile on his face. He was happy for his brother. Finally.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU GOT ENGAGED?!"

Dick screamed when he found out the news. Poor Bruce was trying to take a nap in the background. Tim made it to the doorway before Dick was on him like a shark in the water.

Tim was still holding his engagement rock and cradled the rock closer to his chest. If Dick is going to get mad, he's going down protecting this rock. He said offhandedly,

"Don't make it a big deal. We haven't even turned our rock into rings yet."

Tim and you had both decided to use the agate as your matching rings. It was a large enough gemstone after you both researched how big a rock had to be to become a ring, and Tim found a shop in Gotham who could do it. You were moving fast, sure, but he was certain he wanted to spend forever with you.

Dick was floored. He couldn't believe how casual Tim is about getting engaged. There was seemingly no thought put behind getting engaged. Dick said,

"Don't make it a big deal? Tim, you are about to get married! This is a huge deal!"

Tim smiled fondly. He's going to get married! The reality hit him in that moment. He's excited. He had not even thought you could feel the same way he did despite all the signs. All the rocks, all the hugs, all the times you held his hand and cuddled with him but nobody else. You could not have been more obvious.

"What's this about an engagement?"

Bruce asked groggily. He was used to waking up to screaming, but certainly not to an engagement. Who got engaged? Probably Jason. He definitely would hide a relationship from Bruce and get married before ever showing them.

"Timothy Jackson Drake got engaged without telling anyone! I had to find out through Jason!"

Dick sounded accusatory. He was hurt. Jason found out about it before he did. He's supposed to be the best big brother of all time. Tim quickly defended his actions,

"We've been engaged for an hour!"

Bruce muttered, about to fall asleep again,

"That's nice."

The words set in a moment later. He hesitantly opened his eyes and turned his head to face the bickering duo. He didn't sit up from his position on the couch, however.

"Wait. Tim? Not Jason?"

Dick looked at Bruce in pure confusion. Jason isn't even dating anybody. How would he get engaged? Then again, neither was Tim. Tim just skipped straight to marriage.

"Yeah. Tim."

Bruce eyed Tim for a long while. He asked,

"When did you start dating?"

What did he miss? He's Batman. He misses nothing. Dick was the only one freaking out about this engagement. How was Bruce so calm?

"They never dated!"

Bruce sighed. He just wanted to nap in peace. He needed this twenty minute nap. He grumbled,

"Don't make me a grandpa yet. I'm still too young."

Tim blushed. You would be laughing so hard if you were here. You loved making him flustered, and it's even better if it's from family drama.

"You are in SO much trouble, Timothy."

Dick was still fuming. Is it a friends-with-benefits turned lovers situation or what? Everybody with eyes could see the pining, but he never thought Tim would actually get married. Tim immediately threw Jason to the wolves by pointing and saying,

"Jason witnessed it all."

Dick paused his scolding. His gaze turned to Jason, who was rapidly retreating into the kitchen. The kitchen has a back door that he can escape out of if he's fast enough. Dick immediately began chasing him.

"Jason Peter Todd, get back here! I have questions for you!"

Tim slipped out the front door in the midst of the chaos and began his walk to the ring store. Dick will calm down by the time he's back. Probably. Hopefully.

[moonlight-joy]

Wolves Mate for Life

Fandom: House of Dragon

Summary: You and Cregan have been married for years, ruling Winterfell together. On your anniversary, he surprises you with a rare display of affection, proving that even the stern Lord of Winterfell can be a romantic at heart.

Pairing: Reader/Cregan Stark

Winterfell’s stone walls stood tall and unwavering, a fortress of strength against the harsh northern winds. Snowflakes drifted gently from the sky, settling on the castle’s towers and battlements, blanketing the world in a quiet, serene stillness. But within those ancient walls, warmth and love thrived—a testament to the bond you shared with Cregan Stark.

You had ruled Winterfell by his side for years, enduring both harsh winters and fleeting summers. Your marriage, like the North itself, was built on resilience and loyalty. Though Cregan was known to the realm as a stern and formidable lord, to you, he was something more. He was your partner, your love, your home.

Tonight marked your anniversary—another year spent together as husband and wife, as Lord and Lady of Winterfell. The day had passed quietly, as most days in Winterfell did. But as evening fell, you noticed Cregan’s absence from the hall, a rare occurrence given his unwavering sense of duty.

Curiosity piqued, you wrapped yourself in a thick cloak and ventured through the winding corridors of the castle. The air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of pine and snow. The flickering torchlight cast shadows on the stone walls as you made your way to the courtyard, where you finally found him.

Cregan stood near the training yard, his broad shoulders dusted with snow. He turned at the sound of your footsteps, a rare smile tugging at the corners of his lips as his eyes met yours.

“You’re supposed to be inside,” you chided gently, stepping closer. “It’s freezing out here.”

“And yet you came looking for me,” he teased, his voice low and warm. “Couldn’t bear to be without me for long, could you?”

You rolled your eyes, though a smile tugged at your lips. “Someone has to make sure you don’t catch your death out here.”

Cregan chuckled, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. He closed the distance between you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close. His cloak smelled of woodsmoke and the wild northern air, a scent that had become as comforting to you as the warmth of a hearth.

“Do you know what today is?” he asked softly, his breath misting in the cold air.

“Of course,” you replied, resting your head against his chest. “How could I forget?”

“I’ve been thinking about something,” he murmured, his voice thoughtful. “About wolves.”

You pulled back slightly to look up at him, curiosity shining in your eyes. “Wolves?”

He nodded, his gaze steady and intense. “Do you know why wolves mate for life?”

The question caught you off guard, but you shook your head. “Tell me.”

Cregan’s hand came up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing softly against your skin. “Because they know that loyalty is the foundation of everything. They find their mate, and they never let go. They fight for each other, protect each other, and build a future together. It’s in their nature.”

Your heart swelled at his words, warmth spreading through you despite the cold night air. “Do wolves mate for life?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper.

“Aye,” Cregan said, his gaze never wavering. “And so do I.”

Tears pricked at your eyes, and you reached up to press a kiss to his lips. “Then you’re stuck with me forever,” you whispered against his mouth.

“Gladly,” he murmured, kissing you deeply, his arms tightening around you as though he never wanted to let go.

When you finally pulled away, breathless and flushed, Cregan took your hand and led you toward the kennels. “Come. There’s something I want to show you.”

Your curiosity grew with each step, and when he opened the door to the kennels, you were met with the soft sounds of pups yipping and the scent of fresh straw. But it was one pup in particular that caught your eye.

A small direwolf, its fur as white as freshly fallen snow, padded toward you on unsteady legs. Its bright, intelligent eyes locked onto yours, and you knelt down, your heart melting at the sight.

“She’s beautiful,” you breathed, reaching out to let the pup sniff your hand. The little wolf nuzzled your fingers, her tail wagging happily.

“She’s yours,” Cregan said softly. “A symbol of our future. Of the family we’re building together. She’ll grow alongside us, protect us, just as we protect each other.”

Tears filled your eyes as you scooped the pup into your arms, cradling her against your chest. “She’s perfect.”

Cregan smiled, his expression softening as he watched you with the pup. “I thought it was time to show you that I can be more than the stern lord everyone sees. You’ve always seen the man behind the title. I wanted to give you something to show how much you mean to me.”

“You do, every day,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “But this… this means everything.”

He stepped closer, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You’ve given me everything. You’ve given me love, a home, a family. This is just a small way of showing you that I’ll spend the rest of my life giving that back to you.”

You smiled through your tears, leaning into his embrace. “I love you, Cregan.”

“And I love you,” he replied, his voice steady and sure. “Always.”

The next morning, you woke to find the little direwolf pup curled at your feet, her soft fur blending in with the blankets. Cregan was already up, standing by the window as he gazed out at the snow-covered lands of the North. The sight of him bathed in the morning light made your heart swell with love.

“You’re awake,” he said, turning to you with a soft smile.

“I am,” you replied, stretching your arms above your head. “And so is she.”

Cregan chuckled as the pup yawned and padded over to him, her tiny paws making soft sounds against the floor. He bent down to scoop her up, holding her close to his chest. “She’s a fighter, just like you.”

You got out of bed and walked over to them, wrapping your arms around Cregan from behind. “We’ll raise her well. She’ll be strong and loyal, just like her pack.”

He turned in your embrace, his gaze locking onto yours. “Our pack.”

The words sent a shiver down your spine, not from the cold, but from the sheer intensity of his love. In that moment, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them together. You and Cregan were bound by something stronger than any vow or promise. You were bound by the same loyalty that wolves carried in their blood.

Days turned into weeks, and the little direwolf grew quickly. She followed you everywhere, her bright eyes always alert, her presence a constant reminder of the bond you shared with Cregan. The people of Winterfell took notice, murmuring about the direwolf pup that never left the side of her lady.

One evening, as you sat by the hearth with Cregan, the pup curled at your feet, he took your hand in his. “I’ve been thinking about our future.”

You tilted your head, curiosity lighting your gaze. “Oh?”

Cregan nodded, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “I want to ensure that Winterfell thrives long after we’re gone. Our legacy, our children—they’ll carry on our name and our strength.”

Your heart swelled at his words. “And they’ll have the loyalty of a wolf’s pack.”

“Aye,” Cregan said with a smile. “Wolves mate for life, and so do we.”

As the years passed, your love only grew stronger. The direwolf pup became a fierce protector, a symbol of your enduring bond. And no matter what storms came your way, you faced them together, knowing that your love was as unbreakable as the pack you had built.

Because like the wolves of the North, you and Cregan were meant to be together forever. Wolves mate for life—and so did you.

Please support my work with like and comment

[echo-riot]

Sevika/Ellie/Abby Valentine’s Day Headcanons

Warnings: Nothing, just fluff <3

Don’t ask why i created these before valentines day.

Sevika

• Sevika isn’t one for grand gestures or public displays of affection. She prefers a quiet, intimate evening with just the two of you. A dimly lit room, a bottle of expensive liquor, and her favorite jazz record playing softly in the background set the perfect mood.

• Sevika doesn’t do cheesy. Instead, she gifts you something practical but meaningful. Maybe it’s a piece of jewelry she noticed you eyeing weeks ago, or a custom-made weapon if you’re a fighter like her. She’ll hand it to you with a casual “Don’t make a big deal about it” but secretly loves seeing your reaction.

• Valentine’s Day in Zaun isn’t exactly safe, but Sevika makes sure no one bothers you. She’ll keep a hand on your lower back or her arm draped over your shoulder whenever you’re out together. If anyone so much as looks at you wrong, they’ll regret it.

• If you’re lucky, Sevika might attempt to cook dinner for you. She’ll act confident, but halfway through, the kitchen might start to resemble a war zone. Even if it’s borderline inedible, you appreciate the effort, and she’ll grumble when you laugh at her frustration.

• Sevika’s love language is all about touch. On Valentine’s Day, she’s extra attentive, holding your hand, pulling you into her lap, and planting soft kisses on your temple. When she thinks no one is watching, she might even brush her fingers through your hair or kiss your knuckles.

• She loves unwinding with a good cigar and a card game, and Valentine’s Day is no exception. She’ll invite you to play, but the stakes will be playful—loser has to give the winner a kiss or let them choose the next activity.

• As much as she pretends she’s indifferent about Valentine’s Day, Sevika has a soft, romantic streak. She might surprise you with fresh flowers (smuggled in from Piltover), a handwritten note, or an old photograph of the two of you that she had framed.

• After a few drinks, Sevika lets her guard down. She’ll pull you close and murmur things she’d never say in the daylight—how much you mean to her, how she’d do anything to keep you safe, and how she can’t imagine life without you.

• The night ends with you curled up in her arms, her prosthetic resting on your waist as she traces lazy patterns on your skin. She’s at her most vulnerable here, holding you like you’re her anchor in the chaotic world of Zaun.

Ellie

• Ellie doesn’t make a huge deal out of Valentine’s Day but secretly looks forward to it, wanting to make you smile. She pretends it’s “just another day” but absolutely has a stash of plans up her sleeve.

• She’s not great with words, but she spends way too much time making you a card. It’s covered in silly doodles, random jokes, and a cheesy line like, “You’re the fungus to my Joel.” She gets embarrassed handing it over, muttering, “Don’t laugh, okay?”

• Since resources are limited, Ellie gets creative with her gift. She’ll leave little notes or arrows leading you to a hidden treasure she found or crafted, like a cool comic, a barely used book, or a mixtape she made with scraps of old music.

• All day, Ellie bombards you with goofy, Valentine-themed pickup lines. “Are you a clicker? Because you’ve got me clicking with you,” or “Are you immune too? Because you’re infecting my heart.” She cracks herself up more than you do.

• Instead of a quiet evening, Ellie plans an “adventure” date. It could be exploring an abandoned building to find cool trinkets, sledding on an old piece of scrap metal, or watching the stars together. She loves the thrill of doing something unique with you.

• Ellie insists on making you a meal, which might involve some questionable apocalypse cooking techniques. Burnt rations or an oddly cooked rabbit aside, you love the effort, and she playfully demands a “5-star review.”

• After dinner, she grabs her guitar and plays you a song. It’s something heartfelt but rough around the edges, and she might even mix in some silly lyrics to make you laugh. She’ll get flustered if you tell her how much you loved it.

• Ellie thrives on teasing you, especially on Valentine’s Day. She might jokingly challenge you to a snowball fight or wrestle you over who loves the other more. She grins ear to ear when you play along.

• Despite all the jokes and casual attitude, Ellie pours her heart into the day. She doesn’t always know how to express her feelings, but she makes sure you know how much you mean to her through small, meaningful gestures.

• At the end of the day, Ellie pulls you into a cozy spot, maybe by a campfire or under a worn blanket. She wraps her arms around you, rests her chin on your shoulder, and murmurs, “Happy Valentine’s Day, idiot,” in the softest, most loving voice.

Abby Anderson

• Abby isn’t the type for over-the-top romantic gestures, but she puts genuine thought into making the day special. She plans something meaningful and personal, knowing you’ll appreciate her effort more than flashy displays.

• Abby isn’t one to waste resources, so she makes you something by hand. Whether it’s carving a small trinket out of wood, sewing a patch onto your jacket, or crafting a bracelet from scavenged materials, it’s clear she put time and love into it.

• She’s an early riser and uses the quiet hours to set up a surprise for you. Maybe it’s breakfast (even if it’s just rationed eggs and stale bread) or a small bouquet of wildflowers she found during a patrol.

• Abby loves physical activity, so she might suggest spending the day doing something active together, like sparring, jogging along a scenic route, or even teaching you self-defense. She insists it’s romantic because “nothing says love like staying alive together.”

• Abby takes Valentine’s Day as an opportunity to remind you how deeply she cares. She’s more attentive than usual, always checking on you and subtly positioning herself between you and any potential danger during patrols or outings.

• If you’re not in the middle of a crisis, Abby will try to cook a special meal for you. She’ll be super focused, brows furrowed as she works, and will pretend not to care about your opinion—but she lights up when you compliment her cooking.

• Throughout the day, Abby shows her love through actions. She’ll sharpen your weapons, fix your gear, or give you an impromptu massage after a long day. It’s her way of saying, “I’ve got your back.”

• Abby isn’t the best with words, but she thrives in quiet, intimate moments. Sitting beside you, sharing stories, or just leaning against each other while watching the sunset makes her feel at peace.

• She’ll surprise you with small, cheesy gestures, like nervously handing you a clumsily written love note or trying to draw a heart on the dusty mirror of an old building. It’s rare, but when it happens, it melts your heart.

• Abby’s love language is physical touch. She spends the day holding your hand, pulling you into her lap, or giving you bear hugs that lift you off the ground. Her kisses are soft and lingering, and she’ll mutter, “You’re everything to me,” when no one else is around.

• As the day winds down, Abby makes sure you feel safe and loved. She’ll hold you close, fingers tracing gentle patterns on your back, and promise, “No matter what happens, I’ll always be here for you.”

[vibelladonna]

✑ 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!

· ─────── ⋆⋅♤⋅⋆ ─────── ·

[planet-hwa]

୨୧  the remedy to resistance – 우영

   ↳   chapter 1 ; immunity to my charms

  ୨୧  summary     without regret — the last thought before falling asleep next to your best friend after finally giving into temptations, so why did you feel so strange the next morning? it wasn’t regret but an unknown emotion; unexplainable and underlying with anxious thoughts and over thought questions… maybe you should’ve stayed in your content state of immunity and denial, then you wouldn’t be fighting yourself to avoid him.

pairing     fratboy!wooyoung x reader genre     angsty best friends to lovers… and of course with smut *kiss kiss* word count    6.5k

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

warnings     MDNI !!  overthinking/anxiety, mentions of a hangover, mentions of jealousy, hickeys/marking, dry humping, nipple/breast play, fingering, cunnilingus, orgasm denial, overstimulation, one line of degrading but mostly praising, begging, blowjob, hair pulling, gagging/choking, slight cockwarming, unprotected sex [no go irl], cowgirl and missionary, slight ruined orgasm

   ↳   navigation  ◦  full masterlist  ◦  wooyoung masterlist  ◦  requests

the look of love, the rush of blood now playing   no. 1 party anthem ; arctic monkeys ⇄  ◁  II  ▷  ↺

⋮≡  in queue     ◦  champagne coast ; blood orange     ◦  i wanna be yours ; arctic monkeys     ◦  friends ; chase atlantic     ◦  the beach ; the neighbourhood     ◦  you get me so high ; the neighbourhood

Without regret.

After all the years of avoiding flirtatious remarks, repressing your non-platonic feelings and staying content in a complete state of denial, you finally fell into temptation — all because Wooyoung threatened to hook up with a girl you didn’t like, the jealousy of it boiling over you. You never thought it would happen, holding a remaining belief of it. And yet, here you were, a week into avoiding him for no apparent reason. Multiple texts ignored, missed phone calls piling up in your voicemail, all from one very confused person.

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

Saturday morning

The morning after the party was quiet, not filled with the usual morning rustles of the frat house. The sunlight glimmered through the cracks of the curtains, setting the room with an orange tinge. You swivelled your head and peaked over your shoulder at the digital clock on his night stand: 8:59 which quickly flicked to 9:00. Considering the exciting night you had last, you expected yourself to be waking up closer to noon.

The sheets shuffled next to you, turning your head to watch as Wooyoung had flipped to his side and was now facing you, still in a deep slumber and softly snoring. His hair fell across his face and his expression was peaceful. You observed as his facial muscles slightly twitched every few minutes, similar to how a cat does when they’re dreaming. A soft smile grew on your face as you thought about the events of last night, not the party but what happened once the two of you left.

You finally gave in to your temptations for Wooyoung, after always being so adamant that you would never hook up with your best friend, or even admit that you had feelings for him to him. But when he reciprocated those feelings? It was like fireworks burst in your heart, every ounce of love you had for him — platonic and romantic — exploded and shot through your entire body. No man had ever made you feel like that, no matter how much you were interested in them.

The peaceful state of mind was ruined as sudden thoughts of anxiety began flooding your brain, conversations that were blurred by the hangover and unknown to you if they were real or not. 

“Is that why you looked so mad just now? Because I was hooking up with her?” Wooyoung scoffed, pushing his hair back with his hand just for the front strands to fall back to covering his face. The emphasis on the last word proved he already knew the answer. He knew how you felt about her and how she felt about you. He knew that you usually didn’t care about his hookups, but because it was with her; you cared. He knew that you being upset wasn’t just because of her.

“Why would you even go for her when you could get any girl you want?”

“Because the girl I want doesn’t seem to want me back.” He slowly drifted towards you, settling himself in between your knees and resting his hands on your thighs. “Don’t you?”

Did this actually happen, was I dreaming it?

“You know,” He purred, petaling kisses from your chest and down to your belly, falling lower and lower until he sat between your legs. “I’ve always dreamt about this; how you’d look… how you’d feel… how you’d taste.”

Did he actually say that, or was I blinded by orgasmic bliss?

A nausea swelled in the pit of your stomach, fueled by anxiety and the lingering effects of alcohol in your system. You needed to get out of there, right now, before you mentally broke down. Quickly gathering your clothes and throwing them on, but still wearing the shirt Wooyoung gave you to sleep in, you silently left his room and tip-toed down the stairs into a pitiful escape.

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

Thursday midday

Your exam results sat on the table next to you, staring at you in torment. San sat across from you, stuffing a sub into his mouth whilst watching as you glared at the unopened papers, his brows furrowed in confusion to your hesitation. This was one of the things you had been thinking about all week, not particularly excited for it. 

The other thing on your mind? 

Jung Wooyoung.

Wooyoung who has been your best friend since the start of college. Wooyoung who you would never have feelings that exceeded your friendship. Wooyoung who you gave in to and hooked up with, only to leave in a hurry in the morning out of sheer anxiety, embarrassment, disgust in yourself, guilt. Wooyoung who you had successfully, but with extreme challenge, managed to avoid all week — leading you to be glued to San and your girlfriends all week. He didn’t mind of course, he adored being around you, but he was definitely curious. He noticed how any time Wooyoung would walk by, your eyes would shift. It was even more obvious when you would turn away after noticing him walking in your direction. San even tried talking to him, asking what the tension between the two of you was, but Wooyoung would brush it off as a small disagreement and swiftly change the subject — because he too was unsure of the tension between you.

San watched your eyes burn holes through the paper, frankly getting sick of the silent until he plucked up the courage to break it. “Can I ask you a question-”

“I’m gonna open it.” The rope of anxiety and slight anger snapped within you, causing your tone to be more aggressive than intended which you noticed and hurriedly apologised for.

“I wasn’t gonna ask that, but that’s okay.” A light chuckle left him as he took another bite of his sandwich before continuing. “What’s going on with you and Wooyoung?”

The mention of the name caused your eyes to widen and shoot up at him, a look of slight shock sat on San’s face at your expression. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I just noticed that you guys have sort of… avoided each other, all week.” Taking a final bite of his sandwich and violently chewing the big piece, almost choking on it. “I mean, the last time I saw you guys talk was at the party, so did something happen there?”

“Did you guys hook up or something?” He let out a small laugh at the ridiculous idea, it immediately dropped as he noticed your face glow a bright red. “Oh my god, you did.”

You began to shuffle in your seat, avoiding all eye contact and feeling your face grow more flushed by the second, the exam papers suddenly becoming of extreme interest to you.

“About damn time.”

“Wait…what?” Confusion furrowed between your eyebrows as you stared at the boy, him only looking at you with an innocent face as if he didn’t just drop the most open-ended statement. He rolled his eyes as he realised you weren’t playing dumb, you were actually dumb. Dumb enough to not notice the obvious looks of love from Wooyoung all these years, the remarks of flirtatious with evident intent, the physical touches that were held for longer amounts of time to be just friends.

You were completely oblivious to all of it.

Well… you chose to be.

Because in reality: you did notice all of these things. But you had pushed down your own feelings from the day you met due to insecurity and uncertainty. Of course, there was always the hope of Wooyoung’s intent to be true, but what if it was just pure friendship and you made a move causing the awkward end of it. Dealing with rejection was hard enough, but losing a best friend in the process of it? That would be unbearable.

“Wow, you really are an oblivious idiot.” San laughed, your lips curling into a small pout. “He talks about you all the time, it’s actually a little annoying.” You kick him lightly under the table, his eyes turning into crescent moons while he’s giggling.

“I mean, I was never truly sure until the first time we hooked up. After you left, he kept questioning me on it and I could tell he was jealous even when he denied it. And it happened after every time we hung out.”

A small smile curled at the corners of your lips, the thought of Wooyoung being jealous over you sending soft flutters to your heart. San also mentioned how one time Wooyoung had gotten so bitter over you spending time together that he almost fought San over it, the information increasing the butterflies that grew within your stomach.

“Come to the movie night tonight, he’ll be there and maybe you guys can talk.” San suggested as he began to pack his stuff in his bag and ready to go to his next lecture.

Even with the newly discovered information on Wooyoung’s thoughts on you, anxiety still bubbled inside you at the possibility of rejection. “I don’t know, what if he doesn’t want to talk to me?”

“He will want to, he’s been trying to. You’re the one that has been avoiding him, remember?”

The sudden reality check hit you like a bus. It truly was all in your head, Wooyoung avoiding you, when it was your fault the entire time. Before you can give him a definite answer, your phone buzzes to alarm you of your class in five minutes.

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

The living room was filled with bean bags and pillows — a setup made by the oldest frat member, Seonghwa — a variety of snacks and drinks lay on the coffee table in the middle. Yunho and Mingi sat on the floor, attempting to throw popcorn and catch it in their mouths, ultimately getting scolded by Seonghwa every time they missed and how he was not cleaning up their mess again. He was snuggled into a bean bag since you and San stole the couch, his arm flung comfortably over your shoulders, the rest of the frat members being out: including Wooyoung.

Although it took some convincing, San eventually managed to persuade you to join the movie nights like you usually would. This was also his attempt to break some of the tension between you and Wooyoung, hoping that you would go off somewhere and talk. But fortunately for you: he wasn’t there, though you held some hope that he would be. You did want to talk to him, to confide in him like you usually would when you were stuck in a cycle of overthinking, but it was hard since he was the reason for it. But due to him not being there, it would have to wait until another time.

The night had grown darker as the tv continued flipping through action scenes, the light setting a dim glow across the room. Mingi, now passed out, was lightly snoring into Yunho’s shoulder, the tallest boy being used to the younger boy’s clinginess and it not bothering him. Seonghwa was immersed in the movie, it being his favourite from the Star Wars franchise, whilst stuffing his face with cold pizza. Your head now rested on San’s lap, his fingers intertwined and playing with your hair softly, his other hand occupied by silent scrolling through tiktok. He didn’t have much interest in Star Wars but still paid attention by glancing up for a few minutes and right back down to his phone.

The click of the front door sounded through the room, opening with a slight squeak. The tv was blocking your vision so you couldn’t exactly tell who it was-

“Wooyoung!” Yunho cheered, accidentally jolting a sleepy Mingi awake.

A small smile grew on your face as you look up at the boy who walks in, soon followed by a blonde girl. 

Her.

The one he left at the party to be with you was now standing next to him, hands interlinked with each other. Wooyoung sends a quick hello through the room, as does she when she catches your eye, a sly smirk growing on her face as she pulls him up the stairs in a haste. Before he was ushered away, he caught a glimpse of familiar saddened eyes that rested on San’s lap, his eyes widening slightly at the sight of you. A feeling of regret fell over him. He hadn’t seen you in almost a week, noticing how you avoided the glances he’d send your way or how you’d walked around corners after noticing him in your line of travel. All he wanted to do was talk to you and hug you deeply. And now here he was: willingly taking the girl who you hated and who inevitably was the cause for the two of you to hookup, upstairs to his room for the same thing right in front of you.

And god did it hurt you.

“Wooyoung, come dance with me again!” She whined pathetically. Her gaze — turned to a glare — went to your connected hands, face screwing at the sight. 

“Not interested sweetheart.” Wooyoung dismissed and continued up the stairs, ignoring her scoffs.

“You’re not seriously gonna hook up with this whore, are you? She wouldn’t be as good as me and you know it-”

“I said fuck off, didn’t I?”

The girl came bolting down the stairs ten minutes later, sending curses throughout the house before swiftly leaving. Wooyoung was quick to follow her down, instantly met with curious looks from the rest of the group. Seonghwa grabbed the remote and paused the movie to watch the boy, a slightly distressed mask sat upon his face.

“Damn, couldn’t get it up?” Yunho chuckled but was quickly silenced by the sharp daggers that Wooyoung shot at him. His gaze moved around the room, noticing the absence of someone.

“Where’s Y/N?” His eyebrows were furrowed, concern lacing his voice.

“She left about ten minutes ago.” San sighed and shook his head, a look of disappointment sent towards Wooyoung’s direction. Without hesitation, Wooyoung grabbed his car keys and sped off down the road towards the university dorms, pushing through the speed limits to get to you.

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

Curled up under your covers, tears stained your cheeks as you sobbed into the pillow. The thought that he had already moved on, and with his original hook up plan, was too much. It hurt more than any argument you had between each other, your heart aching hopelessly in your chest. But what did you expect, really? You guys made a huge mistake by pushing the friendship boundaries to more, now suffering the consequences of unresolved feelings. Even if you were ready to talk about it, you were too late.

As soon as he was upstairs and out of sight, you got up and left in a hurry. San tried to calm you down but ultimately let you go once your eyes met and he saw the waterworks begin to well up in them. If you had stayed just a little longer, you would’ve realised that the girl left shortly after arriving, that Wooyoung looked for you as soon as she left and when realising you were gone, rushed towards you as fast as he possibly could. But if you had stayed, he wouldn’t be knocking desperately on your dorm door right now.

Wiping your burning cheeks of any reminiscence of tears, you shuffled towards the door, eyes blowing in shock to see the man standing in front of you. Panting heavily and leaning his hand against the door frame, his eyes met yours which caused his breath to ease back to normal, just by the small amount of eye contact. Moving out of the way, you let him in, instantly taking his usual spot on your bed as you got him some water from your mini fridge, which he gulped down in no more than a few seconds.

“Did you run here or something?” A soft chuckle leaving you as you watch the boy choke down the liquid.

“Only up the stairs.” He panted through the water bottle breaks. “Why is that elevator always broken-”

“Why are you here, Wooyoung?”

His attempt at breaking any awkward tension was quickly shut down, a serious look masking your face as he looked up at you. The first thing he noticed was your tear-stained face, the puffiness of your cheeks and the red rim in your eyes. His heart broke thinking he was the reason that made you cry. His hands cupped your face gently as he stood up, finger tips tracing the tears, saddened puppy eyes looking down at you.

“I’m sorry.” He spoke no higher than a whisper, almost inaudible. You weren’t really sure why he was apologising considering you were the avoidant one. “I think we need to talk about what happened…” You moved his hands from your face before leading him over to sit on your bed. An awkward silence fell between the two of you, both of you unsure of how to start the conversation before Wooyoung spoke.

“Why have you been avoiding me all week?” He muttered, surprising you with his straightforwardness, but he couldn’t wait any longer — desperate for answers. “Do you… regret it?”

“What? No, of course not.”

“Then why avoid me?” The silence was deafening, the mumble of ‘I don’t know’ floating in the air. Your brain racked through every possible explanation but couldn’t find one, maybe because you weren’t entirely sure why you were avoiding him. He hadn’t given you any reason to, it was just your overthinking and anxious thoughts on the situation that caused you to be distant from Wooyoung, without true meaning behind it. Everytime you tried to explain yourself, the words would get stuck in your throat, leaving you to sit in an extended silence. He was sick of it.

“Look Y/N, I know how you get with stuff like this, how you overthink everything,” He held your hands in his lap, the gentle touch causing butterflies to form in your stomach as your eyes caught each other. 

“I love you, as a friend and as more. As soon as she entered my room, I knew it wasn’t what I wanted… who I wanted. Because, truthfully, all I want is you. All I’ve ever wanted is you, and I was always too scared to tell you because I didn’t want to ruin-”

His sentence was cut short by connecting your lips with his in a soft and gentle kiss. The sparks of built up tension over the years burst between you as you melted into each other’s touch, his hand moving to the nape of your neck. Pulling away, you watched as his gaze softened in yours, cupping his cheek with a delicate touch.

“I love you too.” You breathed in the broken kiss before he hastily reconnected your lips, feeling the smirk on his face whilst his tongue swiped at the bottom of your lip. Your lips parted and his tongue slipped in, the kiss firing with passion the moment your muscles danced together.

Lips pashing together and hands lingering had pushed your back to the bed, Wooyoung now hovering over you with the look of love filtered in his eyes. His tongue traced every part of your mouth, tangling itself between your teeth. His lips were plump and glistened in a coat of saliva, as did yours. As the kiss grew more lustful, you felt your core become more tense, a wet patch growing within your panties. He pulled away, a string of saliva connecting your lips, watching as your face flushed a rosy pink and your eyes grew darker. He was losing all sense of control at the sight, leaning down to place soft kisses on your jawline and neck. You turned to grant his easier access to your neck, his lips finding that sweet sensitive spot within seconds and beginning to suckle lightly on it, eliciting a soft moan to fall from your parted lips. His pants tightened around him at the sound, holding in a groan of his own as he sucked harsh enough to begin to leave a pretty purple mark: one that, next morning, would let everyone know you were his.

Kissing his way back up your jawline, his breath hovered over your lips before attaching them back to yours. The kiss was filled with fire, tongues swirling and teeth clashing as you groaned hopelessly into each other’s mouths. Unconsciously, you rolled your hips upwards to feel friction at your wanting core, eliciting a deep moan from the back of Wooyoung’s throat as you grinded into the hardening bulge in his pants. Desperate for more friction, he slowly began rutting his hips into you, deliciously hitting the heat in your pants. You whined at the feeling, your hips matching his movements and begging for more. You tugged at the hem of his shirt, your lips breaking as he removed it then moving to remove your own. To his glad surprise, your breasts bounced out of your top and showed the lack of coverage, only returned with a sly smirk from Wooyoung.

He lent down and curled his tongue around your hardened nipple, his fingers pinching the other one. He sucked harshly on the bud, tongue swirling around it and nipping it between his teeth. A painful pleasure surged through your nerves, throwing your head back with a whine. His other hand palmed at the soft skin, rolling the bud between his fingers and sending shivers through your body. The teasing motions were expected by him, but he was agonisingly slow with them. He wanted to savour every moment with you, but the wetness growing within your pants was begging him to be inside of you. Almost as if he could read your body like a book, he kissed his way down your stomach and tugged your sweatpants off quickly. His eyes were instantly drawn to the visible wet patch that coated your panties, dragging his finger over it and watching as your body jolted to his touch.

“So wet for me, love.” He placed a soft kiss over your covered clit, you bit your lip to hold the moan that tried to escape you. A devious smirk curled at the corners of his lips as he continued to pepper delicate kisses over your heated core. Your hips moved upwards to chase more friction, but were met with a teasing laugh at your desperation.

“Please Woo… I need you…” You begged pathetically, but he was even more desperate to hear the pretty noises you were trying to contain.

Hooking his fingers underneath the band of your panties, he slowly pulled them down to reveal your glittering soaked folds. He dipped his tongue out to wet his lips as he looked at you, your face flushed with a crimson red and painted with a begging expression. He kissed your upper thighs and around your core, never making contact with where you wanted him most — until he had you begging for it.

Sliding his tongue slowly through your folds, flicking up on your sensitive bud, your arousal collecting on the tip of his tongue. He watched as your body shivered under his touch, soft moans falling through parted lips as he swirled his muscle around your clit. Hungry eyes stared up from between your legs, pupils blown with lust and desire, you didn’t think you could get any wetter but he just proved you wrong. Twisting and twirling his tongue through your heated core, your quiet moans morphing to louder whimpers as his actions increased in speed. It shocked you the way he could drive you so close to the edge of bliss so quickly, feeling your stomach pulse in pleasure and your orgasm getting ready to crash. He watched as your breaths grew hitched and your hips began to lightly grind into his mouth, feeling how close you were to falling off the edge.

“Woo… ‘gonna cum- ahh” You looked down at him as your orgasm was torn away, a smug smirk and hooded eyes glared back at you. A pout turned at your lips, eyebrows furrowed in confusion at the loss of sensation, your hips attempting to chase it but being held down by a rough hand.

“You didn’t think I’d let you go that easy, did you?” A condescending laugh left him as he watched you. “You ignore me all week and think you’re not getting any punishment for it? Wow, you spoiled little slut.”

He ran the pad of his thumb over your extra sensitive bundle of nerves, your body instantly reacting with a jolt and a whine leaving your lips. Waiting for your breath to return to normal, chest bouncing less than before, he reconnected his swollen lips to your clit. Without warning, he began harshly sucking at it, your hand running to grip into his hair which returned you with a moan vibrating through your core and adding extra sensations to the overstimulation. One hand was pushed gently on your lower stomach as his other preoccupied itself with two fingers, toying with your clenching hole before slowly pushing them in. The sensation of his two fingers pumping deep within you had your gummy walls hopelessly constricting, the curling of them pushing against that special spongy spot was driving you closer to another high.

“P-please Woo, I’m so close.” You believed you would never beg a man for anything, but here you were, pathetically whining for Wooyoung to let you cum as your high grew closer. He smirked into your heat, pumping his digits deeper and earning a loud moan to vibrate through the air. The clench was immediate and he knew you were close again. He swirled his tongue at immense speeds, lewd slurping noises filled the room as he hungrily devoured your juicy folds like it was his last meal, your voice forming incoherent words that turned to moans. 

But again, just before the band in your stomach snapped, Wooyoung pulled himself away and laughed as you growled in annoyance.

“Stop teasing me!” You huffed out, exasperation lacing your voice as you caught your breath back. Wooyoung couldn’t help but find you adorable: your flushed cheeks, your swollen lips from biting them, the death glare you sent his way.

“Come on love, don’t be so greedy.” He chuckled, his body moving up yours until he hovered over you once more. You hadn’t noticed that he removed his hands, but the prominent bulge in his boxers that poked at your thigh made you well aware.

He began peppering your face and jawline with delicate kisses, the soft demeanor change started turning your brain to fog. His lips moved over your jawline and neck, tracing the already formed hickeys from earlier.

“Beg for it.” He seductively whispered in your ear before nibbling on the lobe. Lifting his head from your neck, his eye contact was instant, intense and filled with taunting desire.

“Please…” A breathy whine spilled from your lips. “I’m begging… please”

Unhesitating, Wooyoung crawled back down your body and swiftly rekindled his way between your legs, the sharp sting of his tongue hitting your overstimulated bud coursed pleasure through your veins. He pushed your legs up and ordered you to hold yourself by the knees, giving his easier access. The sponginess of his tongue was quickly met with your gummy walls, pumping his muscle in and out and covering it in your built up arousal. Your moans filtered his ears and encouraged him for more, digging his nose into your clit whilst his tongue continued to pound your tight hole.

You could already feel your orgasm about to burst once more, disordered moans and begs purified the air, praying that Wooyoung would finally finish you. Your legs started to shake, even with your hands holding them and knuckles growing white from the intense grip. He groans deeply into your seeping core as you clenched around his tongue once more, your orgasm snapping in your stomach and spilling out — more intensely than expected. Wooyoung drank up every ounce of arousal that leaked out of you, the taste becoming his new favourite beverage.

As you rode out your high, your hips slowly stopped any grinded movements and breath returned to normal, you looked between your legs and eyes widened in shock. Wooyoung’s face was dripping wet, the front strands of his hair slightly sticking to his forehead and not from sweat. You saw the soaked patch that sat between you on your sheets, a wave of embarrassment crashing over you. He only chuckled lowly, licking his lips of your essence and wiping the droplets escaping his chin. Climbing back up your body, he uncovered your hands from your face and placed a gentle yet lustful kiss on your swollen lips, the taste of your arousal mixed in both your mouths as your tongues danced.

He gripped your hips tightly before flipping you over, with you now straddling his waist and lips still connected. You wanted to return the favour, kissing down his neck and chest to meet with the hard-on beneath his boxers. Pulling them down, his dick bounced out and lightly hit his abdomen, the tip swollen and red and leaking with pre-cum. He pulled his hands behind his bed, cockily watching you as you stared at his very hard, very large cock, a large smirk claiming his face.

All of his arrogance was gone the moment your hand wrapped around the base and slowly pumped, your tongue tracing the underside vein. Your lips wrapped around his swollen tip, tongue swiping over the slit and sending chills through his entire body.

You began to gather your hair, holding it up with your free hand before it was replaced with Wooyoung’s grip. He sent you a small wink as you looked up at him, encouraging and assuring you to keep going. He had never seen a hotter sight than your pretty mouth wrapped around his length. You steadily started to bob your head up and down, swirling your tongue over the tip every few bobs, your hand pumping the length you couldn’t fit in your mouth. He growled deeply at the sensation, throwing his head back against the wall and tightening the grip on your hair. The pull at your head made you dizzy with pleasure once more, a moan trembling within your voice and down Wooyoung’s cock. His hips began to buck upwards and match your rhythm, chasing more friction as you continued to pump.

“Fuuck love, you’re doing so good.” He groaned, his voice had a gravelly accent to it.

You could feel his body tensing underneath you, showing you he was about to crack. You slowed down the bobbing of your head, stopping at the tip and suckling it lightly before pushing your mouth down his entire length, the tip hitting the back of your throat. Wooyoung moaned louder than before, the grip on your hair tightening before pulling you up and watching you pant softly.

“Y/N baby, do that again…” Practically whining your name, his dick twitching in your hands, more pre-cum desperately dripping out of it and mixing with your saliva coating. 

And you did exactly what he asked, wrapping your lips around him once again and deep throating the length with every nod.

His moans grew higher with every motion, his abs tensing every time his cock smacked at the back of your throat. Orgasm just sitting on the edge, he clasped your hair with force and encouraged your motions to speed up. Your hand’s grip tensed around his base as his high crashed into him like a tidal wave, his hand holding you down on him causing you to gag around his length — ultimately sending extra sensations for him. His white ropes spilled out into your mouth, leaking from the sides and down your chin as he held you in place, milking him of every string drop. After the final spur of his high calmed, his grip ceased and you lifted your head, swallowing his juice as he watched with a smirk.

A smirk that told you, you weren’t finished.

He grabbed you by the wrist, guiding you up to straddle his waist before watching as you lined yourself up with him. You ran his — still extremely hard — cock through your folds, flinching as the tip hit your clit. Lining yourself up, his hands moved to your hips and helped lower yourself on him, both moaning in unison as the burning sensation. Your walls constricted around him like a python, the feeling of him hitting your gummy spot as he bottomed out was delectable. You started to move your hips before the grip on them tightened.

“Wait love,” Concern instantly washed over your face, only answered by a small hoarse chuckle. “If you move, it’ll be over too quickly.”

You could only giggle in response, leaning down to place a gentle kiss on his lips. There was no time before gentle kisses turned into a passionate makeout, whimpering into each other’s mouths as your tongues twirled together. His hands moved around your entire body, grasping and pinching every inch he could reach. The simple passion quickly escalated once more to pure desire. Wooyoung began to buck his hips upwards, a moan falling through you at the sudden penetration, causing you to disconnect your lips. Desperate for more friction, you sat up and began to rise and fall on him, his hands finding their place on your hips once more.

He guided your motions with a hard grip, hard enough to bruise, but you didn’t care. The pleasure of him was all that mattered to you. You threw your head back as your moans grew higher and bounces became sloppier. How he could get you so close to an orgasm so quickly was beyond you, yet you felt the similar band prepare itself to snap. 

The room was mixing with the scent of sex and the sound of hopeless moans and slaps of skin, both bodies glistened with a sheen of sweat. People who lived in the dorms were certainly aware of the ceremony happening…

Wooyoung watched as you jumped up and down like a bunny, your belly tightening as your orgasm neared. Releasing his grip on one side of your hips, his hand hastily moved you where you were joint, the pad of his thumb rubbing against your over sensitive bud. Within seconds, your hips jolted and walls clenched as your orgasm hit you like bricks. He halted his own high to follow yours, overstimulating your clit with his finger, the restriction around him cursing him to finish himself. Through hooded eyes he watched as you came down from waves of pleasure, waiting for you to calm before his hand quickly circled your waist and flipped you over in seconds. He buried his head in your neck, low groans filtering your ears as he thrusted sloppy and hopelessly into you, biting down on your shoulder. It was seconds before his white ropes spilled into you and filled you up with warmth, his dick twitching as your over sensitive walls clenched around him, bleeding him dry.

Both panting as you calmed from your highs, he started kissing his way back up to your face, peppering your lips with fragile and soft kisses. You wrapped your arms around him and cuddled into his neck, breathing in the cologne scent that drove you insane. Sitting in a comfortable silence, the setting was tranquil and undisturbed as you enjoyed the solidarity of each other’s company before cleaning yourself up and falling asleep.

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

The morning warmth spat through the small window in your dormitory, an orange glow overlaying the room and reflecting off the mirror on the back of your door — directing in your line of vision. Your eyes flickered open attempting to adjust to the bright sensation. In a state of semi-wake, you began to stretch your body before an arm tightened around your waist, followed by an annoyed groan.

“Don’t move, I’m comfortable.” He breathed into your ear, the air warm against your skin as he nestled his head back into your shoulder, lips resting against it.

“You… stayed?” You whispered, slightly turning your head to look at the boy in your bed.

“Of course,” Lifting his head to meet your eyes, a soft smile curled at his lips before he placed a delicate kiss on your cheek. “I don’t just pack up my stuff and leave.”

The not-so-subtle dig earned him a slap to the shoulder, sheepishly giggling before littering your face with kisses. Compared to the intensity of the previous night, he was so soft and full of love in the morning — not expecting any extra pleasure but just enjoying the morning bliss of affection. He wrapped his arms around your waist securely, not wanting to let go before pulling you into his chest. Wrapping a leg around his waist, one hand rested on your thigh whilst the other played with your hair almost sending you back to sleep.

The morning was nice: peaceful.

No guilt or regret travelled from the night before, instead filtered with love and adoration.

However, overthinking still sat in the back of your mind.

“So, what do we do now?” You whispered into his chest, the silence that followed made you unsure if he heard you.

“I’m not sure.” Wooyoung finally breathed out, the calm pattern of his chest rising and falling doing little to calm you.

“I don’t think we can go back to… just being friends.” Mumbling quieter this time, uncertainty laced within your voice. Wooyoung could sense that you were nervous, overthinking the situation like you usually would.

More silence followed, the atmosphere growing slightly awkward.

“I don’t want to go back to that.”

You looked up at him, instantly met with the eye contact he sent down through a sleepy haze. Although you were an abid overthinker, you could see through his hooded eyes that he was genuine.

“Y/N love, I want to be yours: only yours. And I want you to be only mine.” He cupped your face lightly with his cheek, the instant flush to your cheeks obvious to him and causing a small chuckle to fall through his lips before continuing. 

“We should try being together, and if that doesn’t work — even though I’m certain it will — we can go back to being friends and laugh about this whole situation in the future when we’re old and decrepit.”

His humoured seriousness caused you to laugh, hiding yourself in his neck and he ran his fingers through your hair once more.

“Let’s try it.” You whispered into his neck, the instant validation causing Wooyoung to grab your face and stare at you in a shocked bliss: he definitely expected you to distant yourself again and say no. He smiled brightly before pulling you into a tight kiss, hands tangled in your hair and around your body so you wouldn’t disappear.

Without the knowledge of each other’s wishes for a romance, you both granted them together.

author's note hey lovelies !! i hope you enjoy chapter two, sorry it took me so long i had writers block for a bit on this. hopefully it's alright ('>.<') ୨୧ san x reader side will be in the works but probably won't be posted for a while since i have requests and other drafts to catch up on

୨୧ taglist @morethingsfandom @dreamsoffanfics @butterflydemons @youmeandwords @hwascutewife @e3ellie @hoe4kpop @moonlight-hwa @dawn-iscozy @chososho3 @dejatiny @betda @woozit @mystery-girl227 @likeathunderoverflow @santineez @rachs-words @imlonelydontsendhelp @wooyoungjung99 @anonn0n

[ye4gerism]

what do you think are some thinks curly and reader like to do together as a couple. Also how do you think it was in the early stages of them not dating but yk just getting there and then the early stages of oh were official. Also if reader and curly did actually have like the whole big wedding instead of just going to the court house do you think curly would like cry big ass tears or would you say in general of how they get married he would be crying big ass tears.

𝑹𝑬𝑳𝑨𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵𝑺𝑯𝑰𝑷 𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑫𝑪𝑨𝑵𝑶𝑵𝑺 - 𝑪𝑨𝑷𝑻𝑨𝑰𝑵 𝑪𝑼𝑹𝑳𝒀 𝑿 𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑫𝑬𝑹

author’s note these past few hours omg 😩 thank you for the ask. i’m going to go ahead and connect this to the curly headcanons i’ve been meaning to post. and, ugh, isn’t simon baker the perfect curly??😩

* answering this ask with good luck, captain in mind but can be read without it!

content warnings suggestive, black reader friendly

• you meet curly abroad in london and befriend him (and jimmy, i guess). your friendship only fostered because you were lonely in the city and curly had made an effort to hang out with you

• so things like going out for brunch or sightseeing. you’d have late-night conversations over the phone or you’d just sit in the car and talk. nothing romantic, just pure friendship.

• however, the attraction was clearly there. the both of you just didn’t want to make a move just yet. you had learned that he lived further away from you and so you even wondered if it was worth pursuing a relationship with curly at all. you were fine with being future pen pals

• curly just thought he was out your league - you’re beautiful, smart, a great conversationalist. he didn’t want to screw you over.

• eventually he confesses:

“I just wasn’t confortable leaving without telling you how I felt. You’re a great girl and anyone would be lucky to have you,” he told you.

• you propose you try long distance and it works.

• the two of you take turns visiting each other and you fall even more in love with him each visit

• one time he proposed you go hiking and you were absolutely dreading it. going hiking with this man you just met?? you were hot and it started raining but as crazy as it was, having your first kiss in the rain made up for it

• six months into dating and you two have your first time together. curly gentle and cautious of your body. he wants to show you how much me respects you. the morning after he’s so so touchy (1:48 and beyond does not matter unless you want it to lol)

• and curly is so crazy when it comes to you and intimacy. he’s over here painting your toes and teasing you all at the same time. he paints one nail and then leaves kisses up your leg and stops when he knows he’s getting close to your hot spot.

• he’s just a big tease in general. also…didn’t know where to put this but…👀

• not only does curly taking you hiking but he takes you to a mountains to ski and do a bunch of snow shit. a lot of his dates are outdoors but you like him, so you roll with it. A lot the dates you plan are dinner dates, going to the movies, just city stuff. you’ve both learned to have a mutual respect for your differences.

• but curly loves when he’s with you. he appreciates mini home dates and just being alone with you

• then he pops the question 6 months later. and you say yes. and you have a courthouse wedding bc you two enjoy your privacy. in good luck, captain, reader and curly do have a big wedding. it’s referred to briefly in ‘rest of your lives’. i would actually argue that curly was a bit more emotional during your courthouse wedding - he read vows that he wrote and he got to be with you. there was no one there to destroy the peace. your big wedding was more of a family gathering and appeasing to your families.

• now domestic stuff…i would say that you and curly are pretty decent cooks but you’re a little better than he is. curly likes to learn though! so he’s picked up a lot of your cooking skills.

• curly’s not the cleanest but he’s not a slob either. his office space is just a bunch of papers but when he’s not busy, he does get his act together and organizes his desk. you are a stickler for organization, so the house doesn’t get too busy bc you’re always one step ahead.

• you like to shower alone but Curly always hops in when you’re ready to get out

• i feel like reader and curly would be a family of three. you’d end up having one baby, a little girl bc curly’s a girl dad (convince me otherwise).

• but you’d definitely consider adoption if you wanted a second child.

• a family of four actually sounds fitting - a daughter and a son

• curly’s big on sports, so the minute your kids learn how to walk, he’s taking them to the rec center.

• kids also mean leaving you at home when he wants to go hiking. he recognizes you need a break and encourages you to have the day to yourself as he takes the kids out

• surprisingly enough, curly’s the stricter parent. he has the hard talks with the kids when they’re disrespectful. he doesn’t hesitate when it comes to time out or taking away devices.

• you like packing lunches for the kids. you like to leave little notes for them and organize everything neatly inside

• and most importantly, you guys live happily ever after. at least, within this post.

[hannahssimblr]

Astrid, 

Hope you got my postcard from Phuket, and that the Bangkok one shows up, eventually. Maybe it is actually lost, like maybe I’m doing something wrong at the post office. It’s fine if they all go into the abyss. I am writing just to write, because it feels romantic or whatever. You probably hate the idea of this. I could just text you. I texted you forty-five minutes ago. Still miss you. 

We’re in Phi Phi now. Islands, very beautiful. I bet you already know about them, but I’d never heard about this place before I came here. The landscape is kind of mental, like giants made it. Weird to look at. We went out on a little boat yesterday to see the sights. Jonas jumped off and swam, and I did not. My tattoo is still healing. Stupid fucking thing. I waved over a boat of girls and told them Jonas was saying he fancied them, and then he got annoyed with me, because he wasn’t saying that, and he was embarrassed. I think he should learn to talk to women without wanting to die, and he says I think about women too much, that I’m too invested and I should think about something else. History, philosophy, whatever. Why would I when there are women like you on the earth?

At night, instead of going out and drinking, we go to bed early, in our bunks, him on the top, me below like always, and he tells me all this shit about the Suez canal, or what the Falklands war was all about, since I was stupid enough to ask a follow up question once. Then I fall asleep to escape the boredom. We get up at six and do activities, then. Lots of walking. My body hurts. 

Jonas finally tried those scorpions he was banging on about, and now he’s sick, btw. Food poisoning. I don’t really know how to take care of him, except coming back to the hostel every few hours, making sure he has water. Until he’s better, I guess I’m just wandering around on my own. Luckily, it’s nice to look at. Maybe today I’ll swim with my arm out of the water. Running out of space. Love and miss you can't wait to see you.

xxx Jude. 

I snap open the lid of a bottle of water and carry it into the hostel room. It smells bad there, but I’ve stopped saying it, because it makes Jonas look like he’s about to cry. He’s curled up on his bunk, a complexion like curdled yoghurt, as a chink of morning light spills through the blinds and over his shivering body. Mostly naked. Too hot, then too cold, then sipping water, then throwing it up. I hover in the doorway. 

“I’ve water,” I say, and he just stares. Resigned, half-dead, maybe. “Should you go to hospital or something, do you think?”

“No, I feel slightly better.”

“Oh, okay. Do you want the water, or?”

“Yes. Bring it to me.”

I approach him like a leper, not sure why, as I’m fully aware he’s not contagious, but it’s been ten days since I’ve thrown up, and I’d like to maintain my healthy aura. He regards me with bleary eyes as I back away. “It is good you are an artist and not a nurse.”

“Yeah, I don’t know. I’m not so good with illness.”

“Even though you are always ill.” A tentative sip from the bottle. “You went out this morning?”

“To the post office.”

“Another postcard to Astrid.”

“Yes.”

I can tell he wants to laugh but lacks strength, managing only a feeble wheeze. “Is she missing you as much as you are missing her?”

“No, I don’t think so. She’s much better at distance.”

“She’s an independent person.”

“Yeah.”

“Tell me what she is doing today.”

“It’s Wednesday, so probably going to reformer pilates. Then she’s supposed to meet a friend from university for lunch. After that, I don’t know. Something spontaneous and thrilling, probably.”

“And you?”

“What about me?”

He manages a watery smile. “You’ll be doing nothing again today? Missing her?”

“I was thinking I might wade into the sea, actually. Keep walking out until I disappear, wailing after Astrid like the pathetic little freak I am.”

“It’s Wednesday?”

“Yes, Wednesday.”

“I signed up for something today.”

“Well, I don’t think you’ll be going, by the cut of you.”

“No,” giving up on the water for now, he rolls onto his back, watching insects congregate around the plastic light fixture. “You could go in my place. It’s a… meditation thing.”

I pull a face. “Meditation? That thing where you sit cross-legged and go like ‘om’?” I demonstrate, but feel bad for making him laugh. Apparently a bit painful for him. 

“Yes,” he says. “Kind of. You might find value in it.”

“Is that the kind of guy you think I am? With like, dirty feet and harem pants?”

“Since I am the one who signed up, is it the kind of person you think I am?”

“Not far off.”

“Well, meditation has many benefits. It’s not just for the dirty-feet-squad. It’s good for people who suffer with various mental health concerns, and people who have racing thoughts they cannot stop and such things. Maybe it will inspire you to stop thinking about women’s breasts.”

I scoff. “Why would I do a thing like that?”

“So you can think of more productive things that will inform you, and grow your mind rather than rotting it away.”

“Like the Falklands war, for instance.”

“Yes, like the Falklands war,” he says, suddenly animated. “Thank you for saying that. Or the targeting of Libyan migrant workers on suspicion of being mercenaries by—”

I take a brisk and decisive step out of the room. “Well! Glad you’re feeling better, Jonas. See you later. Keep drinking that water, et cetera.” I swing the door shut and amble away, down the hostel hallway and back to the beach, rearing for another day of nothing, bored senseless by the edge of a lonely ocean.

Beginning // Prev // Next

[aziraphales-library]

May be an odd request, but do you have any fic recs where Anathema is characterized really well?

I don't see much of her, and when I do, she tends to be there to fulfill a role that may be lacking for what I'm after

I went through my bookmarks and picked fics I remember Anathema from, not just as a prop to get Aziraphale and Crowley together, but as a full character with her own stuff going on...

Friendship is Demonic Magic by Shadow0kana, whtbout2ndbrkfst (T)

After Crowley interrupts Aziraphale and Anathema’s phone conversations one too many times, Aziraphale suggests the two have their own meetups to discuss what they have in common. Cue monthly coffee dates between a witch and a demon who can passionately discuss (debate) anything from Halloween to Astronomy to Hamlet… while also conspiring to form a book swap aimed at getting Aziraphale to read anything written after 1950.

Reluctant Hospitality by brionypoisoned (G)

Anathema Device comes to stay at Aziraphale's book shop after breaking up with Newt. She doesn't know that Aziraphale and Crowley are romantically involved, and Aziraphale attempts to keep it that way. Everything goes very badly.

It's Not The Journey by cosmya (T)

It had been going so well. They’d averted the apocalypse, averted their punishments, averted further investigation or attention by their respective organizations. They were left with little to do but bask in the happy ending. Therein had been the problem. Another champagne, sir?” interrupted the flight attendant. Aziraphale’s eyes snapped open. Oh, I shouldn’t, he thought. “Yes, please,” he said. “Thank you.” Anathema and Newt are getting married, and two of their wedding guests are in a bit of an awkward place. An all-inclusive resort with unlimited alcohol is precisely what they need to re-break the ice.

Do I wanna know? by KissMyAsthma (M)

Aziraphale and Anathema are both closeted queer people, and they decide to do what any sensible closeted queer people do - they form a fake relationship, to shut the mouths of their families and shoo away unwanted suitors. Their comfortable arrangement is put into question when a school reunion makes Aziraphale reconnect - or connect, really - with his school crush, Anthony Crowley. But past is past, and now that they’re both adults, Aziraphale is just glad to make a friend. If the friend finds himself interested in Aziraphale… Well, there’s nothing for him to do since Aziraphale is taken, right?

what the water gave me (we'll watch the sun kiss the sea) by sabraneadaz (T)

“What’s your name?” Pepper asked, jumping to crest the next wave. She’d drifted further out to join Adam where he stood between the Them and the stranger. “All these questions,” the man said, “next you’ll be asking me if I’m an animal, vegetable, or mineral.” “Go on then,” said Adam. “Which one?” (The Them find their summer holidays spoiled by fly-tipping. A woman struggles with life without prophecy. A bookshop owner learns to love, and a mysterious man navigates 21st century courtship. In other words, it's the selkie au no-one asked for.)

Married at First Sight by Aracloptia (T)

“Well, that was a thing,” Crowley said once they were out of earshot. Without talking about it, they were both heading down the field, towards the lake where the photographer (and likely a few more people from the TV crew) was waiting. “That was a wedding,” Aziraphale replied, surprised at his own annoyance that somebody called a wedding a ‘thing’. “Yeah, obviously, didn’t miss that part,” Crowley said with a shrug, and waved abruptly in Aziraphale’s general direction. “Neither did you, from the looks of it, since you’re dressed like a wedding bride and everything.” “Excuse me, I am a—“ Aziraphale stopped himself, and started over. In which Aziraphale ends up marrying a rude stranger who wears sunglasses.

- Mod D

[ozwriterchick]

Back to Us - Chapter 8

Summary: Y/n wakes after an accident to her Avengers team-mates. But something isn't quite right and only Steve and Tony can see it.

Characters/Relationships: Steve Rogers x Reader; Tony Stark; Natasha Romanoff; Other Avengers Characters

Content warnings: Mentions of an accident (no details yet); If I missed any, let me know

A/N: If you want to be tagged, let me know.

Not beta'd so any mistakes are my own. I don't write smut, but there are allusions to smut in my stories.

Back to Us Masterlist

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Word count: 1201 (approx.)

GIF by dazedandkaitfused

Another month passes by with the Avengers going on more missions.  Some with you, some without you.

Steve walked into the lab to talk to Bruce and was surprised to see you there.

“Y/n” he exclaimed. “It’s good to see you, does this mean you have your full memory back?”

“Sorry to disappoint you, or maybe not, but I’m no further along in my memory recall than I was at the Romania mission.  I decided to come back to see if Bruce can help with the Flashback program he created.”

“Sure” Bruce responded.  “It’s still experimental so I can’t guarantee anything, but we can try for sure”

Bucky walked into the lab at that moment.  “Hey Y/n, what’s shaking.”

“Hey Buck, I’ve missed you” you say to him with a huge smile. “Fancy going drinking tonight?”

Steve frowns at the 2 of you.  “Oh can it Captain.  Why don’t you go back to your fiancé, or did she find out about you and dump your sorry ass already?”

Steve walked out of the room, shaking his head and headed to the gym to vent some frustration on the poor punching bags.  Tony was sure he’d be forking out for some new ones in the not too distant future.

Bucky looked at you. “That was a bit harsh Sweets.”

“No lectures Barnes” you said.  “Just drinking, before I start this flashback program with Bruce tomorrow.”

Later that night, Bucky takes you to the local bar on his bike.  You love the freeing feeling of the wind in your face, your arms wrapped around Bucky’s abs, even though there was no romantic spark between you.  A few of the others joined in on the party, happy to have you back and wanting to celebrate.

“Cap not joining us?” you question nobody in particular. “Typical..”

“Sweets.  Harsh” Bucky reiterated his comment from earlier.

“I don’t get why you’re jumping to his defence so much, Buck.  I mean I know he’s your friend and all, but you know what he did.”

“All I’m saying is there is more to the story than you know Y/n.  So just be careful what you say without all the facts.  You wouldn’t want to say something that you can’t take back.”

You blow him a raspberry. “Whatever, come dance with me Barnes.”

You and Bucky are having fun on the dance floor, dancing and singing along to the songs when Steve walks in.

“Hey Steve, How’s Noah?” Nat enquires of him.

“He’s doing as well as can be expected, missing Y/n of course.  He’s with Pepper, so I know he’s safe but I wish things were back to normal already.  What’s going on there” he asks, pointing to Bucky and Y/n.

“Nothing serious, she’s just blowing off some steam” Nat tells him.  “You know Buck would never.”

“I’m done with this” Steve declares.  “If things don’t move along with this flashback program Bruce is going to try, I’m either just going to tell her, or I’m leaving and moving on with mine and Noah’s lives.”

“Well that’s a bit dramatic, but whatever you think is fair Cap.” Nat replied.

NEXT DAY IN THE LAB

You’re laying on a bed, all wired up and ready to go.  Bruce starts the program, which basically sends you to sleep, allowing you to access memories that your brain is subconsciously stopping you from remembering.

You see more missions and they all make sense.  Some are successful, some not so much.

You wake, realising you’ve been “under” for about 3 hours.

“How was that kid?” Tony asked genuinely curious as this was the first time they’d put Bruce’s theories to a physical test.

“Meh, I saw a heap of missions, some went well, some didn’t.  Nothing earth-shattering.  Is that all my life has been the last 4 years?” you asked sounding a little disheartened with the fact that there’d been nothing other than the missions coming through.

Your brain was struggling to reconcile that you’d had no significant relationships or even good hook-ups to remember this whole time.

Tony looked apprehensive, in truth, he was weighing up in his mind how much to tell you. “Well, no it isn’t, but you got a heap of memories back today, so we should try again tomorrow, see what more comes back.”

“Ok. Yeah, I am super tired after that so I think I’m going to go rest for a while.  I’ll see you for dinner later tonight” you responded.

You get back to your room, turn on the shower and jump in.  You always felt soothed in your muscles and soul when you’re under the running water.

You’re glad to be getting your memories back but you still feel like there’s so much missing. 

You’re startled as you hear a cough at the bathroom door, turning to see Steve standing there, leaning against the door frame.

“Rogers, you can’t be in here, we are not picking up where we were when I left.  You shouldn’t see me like this.”

“I’m sure I’ve seen it all before, but ok, I’ll wait in here for you.”  He said, moving into the bedroom.

You yell after him “No, you’ll leave, I’m not doing this with you Rogers.  Seriously, have some respect for me if you don’t have any for anyone else, even yourself.”

You take your time, going through your skincare routine and a few other things that were unnecessary.  If he is waiting in the bedroom for you, you’re going to make him sweat, or get fed up and leave.

You wrap your hair and put a towel around your body and saunter into the bedroom.

You see that Steve is lying on the bed, eyes closed.  Thankful that he seems to be asleep, you start getting dressed. 

“Well, isn’t that a great view to open your eyes to”

You shriek and grab the towel covering yourself.  “Geez Rogers, you about gave me a heart attack.  I thought I told you to leave.”

“Sweetheart, I just want to talk to you.  That’s all I’ve wanted this whole time.”

“Don’t call me sweetheart, Captain.  Save that for your fiancé, if she’ll even talk to you after I work out who she is and let her know what you’ve been doing.”

“Dammit Y/n, just give me a chance.  Sometimes things have simple explanations.”

“Listen Steve, I’ve already told you, no explanation can fix the fact that you cheated on your fiancé with me, when I had no idea.  You took advantage of my lack of memory for your own gain.  One day I might forgive you but I don’t think I can ever forget it.  I just hope you’ve come clean with her.”

Steve sighed “Honestly, I haven’t, I keep trying, but each time she shuts me down.”

Steve gets up off the bed, kisses you on the forehead and says “Just know that when you’re ready for the truth, I’ll be here” and with that, he leaves the room.

You thought you’d got him out of your system but that kiss left you a bit flustered.  You sat there for a while wondering what he meant and what truth he could possible tell you that would change anything.

Tag List: @wolfbeanpotion @vioplay19 @jason-todd-fangirl-14 @crazyunsexycool @zaraomarrogers @bitchy-bi-trash @mrsnikstan @harrysnovia

[sundrop-writes]

Trouble Is...

Thomas (The Maze Runner) x Fem!Reader

All that I know is I just can’t say ‘no’ to you,

Funny how things never change.

All that I wanted was just to get over you.

Trouble is - I can’t find a way.

You’re part of me.

Trouble Is - you’re part of me.

Summary:

Now out of The Maze, everyone is enjoying their newfound sense of safety. Everyone except for Thomas.

He can’t enjoy the soft beds or the clean clothes or the food, because he’s too worried about you. You’re quarantined off somewhere else (presumably with other girls), and he hasn't seen you in days.

When he finally sees you, he’s too thankful to question why the two of you are put in a room alone together. Too thankful to question the mysterious smoke that’s pumped into the room. Too thankful to question why the door is locked.

Thomas (TMR) x Fem!Reader. Friends to Lovers. Smut/PWP. Sex Pollen. Set during The Scorch Trials. 

Word Count: 7,900

The Maze Runner Masterlist | AO3 Link

Full list of warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: general warning that any and all TMR fics I write will be based on the movies and not the books, so any lore inaccuracies can be blamed on that; also this is a YA series, but DoB was in his 20s when he played Thomas, so for our purpose, these characters are aged up to at least 19 or 20; often sex pollen comes with a dubcon warning, but I’m not sure that applies here - these characters have a great deal of pre-existing affection for each other (I might even go so far as to say that they are in love), and they would have intensely enthusiastic consent, even without chemical enhancement; the reader does have some mental hesitation when she feels the pollen taking effect, but it’s not because she doesn’t want to have sex with Thomas, it’s because of PTSD from WCKD and feeling suspicious towards them (and when Thomas assures her that he will ‘take care of her’, she enthusiastically consents to having sex); warnings for unethical science because our characters do not know that they are part of a science experiment and have not consented to have these chemicals used on them (but that is just the canon of WCKD); the reader character has a vagina and uses she/her pronouns; this fic DOES USE Y/N; this fic uses the beautiful age old trope that the reader character was the only girl in The Maze; mentions of the mental and emotional effects of isolation - the reader has been isolated from everyone else since leaving The Maze and Thomas is the first of her friends that she sees in days; this is mostly just smut with very little plot; because of the canon, both characters have had their memories erased and theoretically might be virgins or might not be virgins (yes, in the book, they were put into the Maze as ‘children’, but as I said, for my purposes, everyone is aged up) - so I am not explicitly stating if this is their first sexual experience or not, but this is their first sexual experience as a couple/first sexual experience with each other; as mentioned before, the main point of this is sex pollen - in the form of a mysterious sci-fi chemical compound that is injected into a locked room by WCKD as a part of a random experiment; scent kink - Thomas loves the way Reader smells (and has since long before being dosed with sex pollen); orgasm from clit stimulation through clothing; oral sex - reader receiving; hair pulling - Thomas receiving; unprotected penis in vagina sex; there is NO breeding kink here (the characters aren’t motivated or turned on by the idea of having a baby); there is creampie kink - Thomas does not pull out, and the characters are turned on by the idea of him cumming inside of her; Thomas is very possessive in this fic (but it’s almost unconscious, as a need to keep the reader safe, not in a jealous or romantic way); cockwarming - they fall sleeping while Thomas’s cock is still inside of the reader; the ending is slightly bittersweet (it’s implied that the reader is kidnapped/hurt by WCKD, but not explicitly stated). I believe that’s all for this short fic.

A/N: I am genuinely surprised that it took me this long to write and post a sex pollen fic, because it's absolutely one of my favourite tropes ever to read. WCKD is such a perfect backdrop for a sex pollen fic - shady unethical company that does weird science experiments - it's just too fitting. I have a few more sex pollen fics in my drafts that are yet to be finished, but I can definitely see myself writing a lot more of this trope because it was so much damn fun lmao. I will squeeze it into any fic universe that I possibly can. I love tropes that make things hornier than they should be - sex pollen, fuck or die, hate sex. All of it. Anyway - I hope you enjoy the fic, especially those of you who have been waiting for this fic in particular!!

...

Thomas was going insane. 

At least - that’s what it felt like. Sure, escaping The Maze had been a victory. Being rescued by the military and being taken to a (supposedly) safe place was, for all intents and purposes - a victory. 

But there was one detail that Thomas was hung up on that nobody else seemed to care about. While everybody else seemed content to go about their ‘new’ everyday lives - sleeping in the dorms, eating in the cafeteria, going through the barrage of medical tests without question - you were missing. And apparently, Thomas was the only one who seemed to care. 

Perhaps that was an exaggeration, seeing as the other boys from the Glade had known you longer, and they were likely worried about you silently because you were a dear friend to them. But it certainly felt like Thomas was the only one who was anxiously awaiting your return. 

When Thomas had come out of the Box, terrified, clueless, panicked - you had been the first person to be truly kind to him, rather than laughing at his blundering confusion. Every single time there had been an argument, you had stepped between him and Gally, making yourself known as a calm, motherly force that the other boys listened to - more out of habit than fear. 

You were a kind leader in the Glade that everyone respected, because you had earned their respect. Not because you bullied them into following you or even because you wielded some kind of natural seniority over them like Alby had. You were kind and sweet, and all the boys responded to that. 

Thomas had been surprised to learn that you had been one of the first people ever to come out of the Box. The second ever, according to Alby. You had such a strong, long-standing friendship with Alby, such a close bond with him. When Thomas saw the tears that streaked your face when you thought that Minho and Alby weren’t going to make it back before the doors closed was likely the number one thing that motivated Thomas to go dashing inside. He had wanted to rescue your closest friend for you. Some signal, some blaring siren inside him that screamed that he would do anything for you, that he needed to protect you. 

It was the same thing that caused him to hold you tight when you saw Alby slowly dying from the poison of the Griever’s sting, letting you cry on his shoulder. The same thing that drove him back into The Maze, looking for a way out. A deep longing to escape, to find a better home for you. 

And now, he was going more insane with each passing minute that you weren’t in front of his eyes. He was being driven out of his mind with each moment that your hand wasn’t grasped tightly within his own. Each moment that he couldn’t see you, feel you, hear your voice and know for certain that you were okay - it was slowly driving him mad. 

When the group had first arrived at this facility, this supposedly safe place - you had been ushered away from the rest of the group, viciously torn out of Thomas’s arms. His grasp on your hand the whole time had been bordering on melting his flesh into your own, and he was surprised when you had been the one to relax your hand out of that grip and give him that same soothing voice you did when he got into fights with Gally - telling him that it would be okay, that you would ‘catch up with them’ later. 

Thomas had wanted to kick and scream - he had wanted to yell, complain, protest about you being separated from everyone. He wanted to put up a fight about you being separated from him. But Minho clamped a hand on his shoulder and advised him to ‘shut the hell up’, clearly not wanting to upset the fragile peace they had established. Not wanting to disrupt the safety they had so freshly claimed. 

So Thomas kept his mouth shut - for now. It was for the greater good of the group. Everyone was bathed, clothed, fed, sleeping in warm beds. But he couldn’t help but to feel strange that he was the only one worried about you when they hadn’t seen you in days now. 

Minho simply assumed that girls weren’t allowed to co-mingle with guys in this new facility - and maybe he was right about that. But something about the whole thing just felt off to Thomas. It kept him on edge and kept him from sleeping more than an hour or so most nights while the other boys slumbered peacefully around him. 

On this particular day, Thomas was in the middle of picking at his meal, scoping out the area, theorizing if he could sneak past the guards somehow. If he could get past them, he could venture down any number of the hallways that they hadn’t been to before in order to look for you. He had all this romping through his mind at a break-rate pace when someone came up behind him - tapping on his shoulder and breaking him from these thoughts in a way that utterly startled him. 

Thomas whipped his head around to find one of those anonymous masked soldiers standing behind him. 

“Thomas?” 

He nodded in response.  

“Come with me.” 

Thomas wanted to question it, and when he looked back across the table, he saw Minho, Newt, and Fry looking at him with concern - but he gave them a gentle nod and rose from his seat to follow the man. Something in his gut told him that this might finally lead him to you - that his patience would finally pay off. And he wouldn’t risk that by throwing an emotional fit now. 

He followed the man through a door he had never been allowed to touch before, down a long hallway, through another set of doors, and down several more long hallways - Thomas memorized the twists and turns as he had done with The Maze. First left, then right, then another left. It felt like they had been walking for too long, and Thomas had to wonder just how large this building was. 

Just as Thomas was starting to feel truly on edge, the man came to a stop in front of a seemingly random door - one with a number on it. 708. He reached out, turned the handle, and opened the door. Then he nodded toward it. 

“In.” He said, giving Thomas a simple, brute instruction to get inside. 

Thomas was anxious and hesitant, but he pushed back those feelings - and he ended up being so glad that he did. 

When he stepped inside, he was overjoyed to see you. 

You were sitting on the edge of the bed (it was a room that, upon closer inspection was more like a one room prison cell - with a single bed, a single a toilet in the corner, and a small metal desk with a chair in the other corner) - you looked up when you saw movement in the doorway, having no clue what was coming next. 

Your entire face lit up with intense joy when you saw Thomas. 

“Thomas!” You cried out his name with intense relief, emotional tears quickly springing up in the corners of your eyes as you jumped off the bed and rushed to greet him.

“Y/N,” He breathed out your name like a prayer, his arms opening wide for you as they had been many times before. 

You were quick to fall into the hug, tightly wrapping your arms around his strong torso, not wanting to let him go anytime soon. You had just been escorted back from your daily shower and your fresh clothes were still clinging to you with wetness, but he definitely didn’t mind the feeling of your damp skin under his hands. He didn’t care if you were getting his clothes wet because it was you. 

It only truly hit you now how utterly terrifying the past few days had been. Going from your home in the Glade to such a strange new place, being ripped away from everything you had ever known. Alby’s death, Chuck’s death, Gally’s death - your friends dropping like flies. Being brought here and being ripped away from the safety of your friends, ripped away from the last people you knew and being completely isolated from them, not knowing when you would get to see them again. 

Thomas’s tight hold around you - the familiarity of his body surrounding you, making you feel safe, it was something that made you realize how truly alone and scared you had been over the past few days. It made you realize that you had been swallowing down all of your emotions in an effort to protect yourself. It made you realize how much you truly cherished his hugs. How much you truly cherished him. 

“I was so worried about you.” Thomas breathed out, clearly making a heaving effort not to cry himself. 

You let out a gentle sob into his chest and he rubbed your back, trying his best to comfort you. 

“It’s okay.” He assured you. “It’s okay - I’m here now. I’ve got you. I’m not gonna let you go ever again. I’m not gonna let anything happen to you, Y/N - I swear.” 

Unconsciously, he was promising these things more to himself. He felt like a failure for letting you out of his sight in the first place. He had no clue what they had done to you that had made you so upset, and he cursed himself for not being with you in order to protect you from it. Even though he didn’t know what ‘it’ was, it was stupid for letting anything bad happen to you. 

If either of you had been paying more attention, less caught up in the heightened emotions of the reunion, then you would have noticed the door sealing shut behind Thomas. You would have noticed the heavy ‘click’ of the lock as both of you became trapped there. But you had each other back now, and you couldn’t exactly care where you were in those moments - as long as you were in each others’ arms. 

“What happened?” Thomas demanded sharply, pulling away from the hug slightly in order to put a hand on your chin, forcing your tear-streaked gaze toward his, hoping to get the truth out of you. “What did they do? What did they do to you?” 

His energy increased in franticness the longer he went without an answer, staring at the sadness in your eyes with a knot forming in his stomach. 

“Nothing.” You quickly replied, feeling as though this was the truth. 

They hadn’t done anything to you. At least not anything that was outwardly malicious. 

They had let you shower, given you fresh clothes, fed you three healthy meals a day. And other than the medical appointments that you didn’t fully understand the point of (some of which were slightly more invasive than you would have liked), none of it was dangerous or painful. You had simply been kept in this room the whole time. You had been scared from being under-informed and lonely from not being allowed to see your friends. 

But none of that seemed like a crime. Especially compared to the treacherous deadly Grievers in The Maze. 

“Please don’t lie to me.” Thomas said quietly, his throat choked off by the intensity of the emotions - the grief he felt for your sadness, the anger he was holding back toward whoever had hurt you. (And towards himself for not better protecting you.) 

“Look, it’s nothing.” 

You assured him, reaching up and grabbing his hand, soothingly petting your fingers over his knuckles in a gesture almost too affectionate for someone you called ‘friend’. 

“Just - I was lonely. And I was scared because they wouldn’t let me see you. I was probably stuck in here, feeling all the same things you felt-” 

Thomas cut off your words by pulling you back into another crushing hug, which you eagerly leaned into, cuddling your cheek into his chest, enjoying the warmth and the safety you felt from having his arms around you again. 

“Yeah.” He easily agreed to this sentiment. And then he wondered: “Where have you been the whole time?” 

“Just here.” You told him honestly. 

You didn’t feel the need to tell him about the doctor’s appointments - even the unpleasant ones. Especially because you assumed that he and the other boys had been through the same, likely with a different doctor. 

This caused another knot in Thomas’s gut. They had been keeping you in the same tiny room, not letting you see any other people? So - Minho’s theory about you being off in some other dorm making friends with a bunch of girls had been completely wrong. 

It wasn’t outright cruel, but it made alarms go off in Thomas’s head. It made his protective instincts toward you act up again. 

“I won’t let that happen to you again.” Thomas said firmly, trying his best to be assuring, even though he knew that he had no real authority over the decision. 

He cradled your head soothingly, petting a hand over your hair in a sweet, protective way. 

“Thomas-” 

You were about to remind him of the fact that he held no power over this when a very strange sound caused your voice to shrink back into your throat as you became distracted. 

You and Thomas both became drawn to the sound, both of your heads whipping up to look at it. Immediately, you saw that some of the tiles lining the ceiling had shrunk back, making way for small metal tubes that protruded out of the walls all around the room, creating a high-pitched hissing noise as they sprayed some kind of white mist into the air. This went on for about twenty seconds before it stopped, and then the tubes retracted back into the walls and the tiles slid back into their usual place. 

… 

“Chemical compound LI69 has been distributed.”

“How long until the subjects feel the effects?” 

“Effects will be immediate. Symptoms should be noticeable in ten to twenty minutes. Desired outcome will be inevitable within twenty four hours.” 

“Good. Keep bi-hourly notes. I want a full report.” 

… 

“What - what the hell was that?” Thomas wondered aloud, frantically looking around the room where the tubes had disappeared into the walls. 

“I don’t know.” You replied honestly. “I mean - that’s never happened before. It - it was probably a disinfectant or something,” You shrugged, trying to rationalize it, trying not to jump to the conclusion that it was something poisonous or harmful. 

Thomas let go of you and whipped around to the door - panic flooded him when he turned the handle and found it locked. 

“Hello?!” He screamed, banging on the door and fruitlessly jiggling the handle. “Hello?! Assholes! You can let us out now!” 

“Thomas,” You scolded him gently - his panic naturally unsettling to you. 

You wanted him to calm down - his nervous energy was making you nervous. And you had spent far too much time over the past few days cramped up inside of this room being nervous. You wanted to simply be able to enjoy the pleasant fact of his presence after missing him for what felt like decades of loneliness. But Thomas wasn’t going to lay down and make that easy on you. 

He rushed to the other end of the room, stepping up onto the desk chair and then the desk, peering into the vent as though he would be able to find a way out through there. 

“Thomas, please - just calm down. I’m sure it was nothing.” You continued, trying to get him to calm down. 

“Nothing?” He scoffed. “It’s never just ‘nothing’ with these people.” 

This was the last thing he said to you before his mind locked in on the task, and he focused on trying to find a way out of the small room. 

He spent a few minutes trying to loosen the bolts on the vent (which wouldn’t have been large enough for either of you to crawl out even if he did get the vent cover off). So all he did was make his fingers sore fighting against the welded metal. And then he moved on to brute force - he picked up the chair and tried to simply beat the doorknob clean off. 

But again, it was something that was very well made, seemingly bulletproof. And by the time he had taken a few good swings, he was heaving with sweat, breathless, and he found it to be way too hot in the small space. 

Surely his body was boiling over from the efforts of swinging the chair around in such a small, closed space. So he placed it down and moved to take off his shirt, surprised by just how damp the fabric was, seeped with sweat already in such a short time. He balled up the fabric and began patting himself down with it, trying to get some relief on his overly heated skin. 

And then, his entire system became utterly distracted by a single, tiny sound. 

A whimper. 

He whipped his head around at lightning speed, realizing that it had been you who had made that sound - it had been your whimper. And suddenly, everything in Thomas’s body, every single one of his senses became utterly overwhelmed by you. 

The sight of you on the bed, sitting patiently, waiting for him to fetter away at whatever plan he came up with next - you looked so stunning, so breath-taking. You were covered in a sheen of sweat, obviously warmer than before - so it wasn’t just Thomas. It wasn’t just because of his exertion in trying to break out of here. 

Were they turning up the temperature in the room? Were they planning to cook the two of you as some kind of punishment? 

Yet - that thought quickly dissolved off into Thomas’s mind as a distant worry the more he looked at you; the more he drank in your slightly parted, bitten lips - so pretty, so kissable. The more he looked at the way stray hairs stuck to your flushed, sticky skin, wanting to gently wipe them out of the way. The more he admired your breasts gently heaving with each breath, your nipples sticking off through your shirt and thin bra. 

He wasn’t sure how he hadn’t noticed it before, but he could even smell you in the air. 

Your natural smell was something so prominent in the air, something so perfect he could suffocate in tight in the small space. Shamefully, that scent was something he knew so damn well, something he had memorized and treasured close when his memories of life had still been so few and his head had still been so empty. 

Hugging you those first few times, he had tucked his nose into your hair and greedily whiffed deep breaths of your scent, absolutely loving how you were sweet, soapy. Even if you were slightly sweaty from a long day of work, your natural scent was so damn perfect to him. 

It was a smell that he loved so dearly - on top of everything else that he loved about you. 

This time that wonderful scent that he knew as yours had something else underlying with it - something needy and pungent that he wouldn’t quite know yet was arousal. Your arousal. But it was bringing back that feeling of anxious insanity that he had been boiling with earlier that day. The feeling that made him practically crawl out of his own skin, feeling like he needed to get to you. Feeling like he needed to save you from some big, unseen danger. 

Here, now, being in this room with you - he still didn’t feel close enough. He wasn’t close enough to you. He still didn’t feel as though that anxious thing inside of him, calling out for you had been answered. Not yet. 

Thomas had the urge to reach out and pull you close, hold you in his arms again, but he had a feeling that he would squeeze you tight and not want to let go - and then he would lose focus on getting you out of this room and to a safe place. And that just wouldn’t do. 

“Thomas - you-your shirt…” You whispered the words on the edge of your breath, as though you were breaking some terrible secret by speaking it aloud. 

He had almost forgotten that he had stripped off his shirt in such a haste. The fabric was now clutched tightly in his shaking fist. Unconsciously, he was directing all of his energy to that point, furiously focusing on his grip to help himself resist the urge to reach out and grab you. 

He hadn’t yet noticed the way you were looking at him. 

Your eyes hungrily raking over his bare torso, scanning over every inch of him. From the muscles that bulged in his biceps while he moved, to the veins protruding in his forearms, to the trail of delicious dark hair down from his belly button that disappeared into his pants. It was a way you had never looked at him before. You had never truly noticed how Thomas - your strong, comforting Thomas - was so utterly, carnally sexy. 

He thought nothing of taking off his shirt in front of you, because it was something he had done plenty of times before. He had done it while working in the gardens with you (as a leader in the Glade, you had rotated jobs a lot, going wherever a spare hand was needed). And you certainly hadn’t looked at him with anything resembling hunger in your eyes back then. 

At least, he thought you hadn’t. 

“Sorry.” He mumbled out, worried that he had made you uncomfortable by stripping so casually in front of you. “I just find it really warm in here, too warm, it’s hot - do you find it hot?” 

He had to ask, hating that nagging heat, almost as if it was crawling under his skin - something so much different from the pleasantly warm sun of the Glade. This was a heat bubbling up from his very core, pin-pricking all over his skin from the inside out. He wondered if this was what a fever felt like. 

Was he getting sick? Was he going to get you sick?

He felt another thick bead of sweat roll down his face and he used his balled up shirt to wipe it off. 

“I guess?” You huffed out, seeming irritated. “Maybe.” 

You squirmed on the spot and let out a pained sound, something that had Thomas on high alert once again. 

“What’s wrong?” Thomas asked, purposefully locking his knees to keep himself from jumping toward you. 

If he was getting sick, then invading your personal space wouldn’t be a good idea. In fact - he made it a point to take a step back, putting distance between himself and you. But he kept his eyes locked on you, keeping a protective watch over you while his back became flush with the metal of the door. It was a pleasantly cooling sensation for a moment before the fever inside of him overpowered it - reminding him just how boiling hot he was. 

“It hurts.” You told him, your voice dissolving into a shaky, pained whine. 

Shamefully, the sound rocked Thomas, and flooded him with something that could have only been described as arousal. 

Fuck. 

The way you looked up at him with glassy-eyes, tears barely edging your waterline, clearly hot and overwhelmed yourself, squirming against the bed - trying to get some friction against your… oh. Oh wow. That realization rocked him like a ton of bricks to the head, and even more heat swelled up inside of his gut. 

You must have been feeling all the same things that he was. 

Dizzy, hot, overwhelmed - having an intense need to hold you and to be held. Brain thumping with nothing but thoughts of you, mind littered with nothing but your smell, nothing but thoughts of your skin. Willing to do anything for you at a moment’s notice. 

Thomas finally let himself flex to those needs, and raced across the room toward you - literally falling on his knees in front of you. 

If you had pain, he would fix it. He would do anything for you. 

“What hurts?” He asked, realizing that the desperation throttling his throat made it sound more like he was begging. But he was too far gone to care. “What hurts? What’s wrong? Come on, tell me. Please.” 

You were almost too incoherent to put the feeling into words so quickly, as quickly as he needed you too. You were too distracted by the sight of his big soft brown eyes staring up at you with utter worship in them - along with his pink cheeks and bits of his dark hair stuck to his face with sweat, that softness contrasted by the broad hardness of his shoulders spread across your lap. 

“Thomas-” You gasped out, cut off by his next action. 

“Y/N, please.” 

He grabbed up both of your hands, clutching them tightly in his own - and that, the first skin-to-skin contact you had felt since becoming this overwhelmed with the heat and the need - it set something off inside of you. It sent sharp shocks up your spine and made your pussy clench around nothing, sending a flood of wetness soaking into your underwear. And it made you feel too weak for your own good in that moment. 

If you lingered there for too long, you would tumble into the abyss. You would simply give into every instinct screaming inside of your body and beg for him to fuck you until you didn’t know your own name. 

And even though that was everything you had ever wanted, all you could remember wanting right then and there, especially from Thomas, the small remaining sense in your brain said that it was a bad idea. 

You let out a sharp gasp, and raced to escape the touch - you knocked your hands out of his and squirmed away from him, jumping up off the bed. Thomas let out a whine of disappointment and crumbled tighter onto his knees, wondering what he could have done to disappoint you. Knowing that he needed to do anything he could to make up for disappointing you. 

But something inside of his skull was chanting: 

She’s in pain. Make it stop. Make her pain go away. 

You know the answer. 

And while you panicked, hoping to fight against what your body wanted, hoping to delay the inevitable, the thing that Thomas already knew he wanted, Thomas picked himself up off the floor. 

All too soon, he crowded into your personal space from behind. You let out another shocked gasp as he pressed his body into yours from behind, the firm, intensely heated muscle like wall of lava engulfing you. 

This time, not letting you get away, he secured you there with a hand around your chest that was oddly comforting, making sure to pull you close and keep you close. He forced you to feel every single inch of his boiling hot body pressed right up against yours. Sweat gently sticking against you through your clothes, his hot breath huffing against your neck, and what must have been the hard bulge of his cock pressing against the roundness of your ass. 

It was all too perfect. And still, something nagged in the back of your mind that you couldn’t have that perfection all to yourself. Something must have been wrong in order for this to be happening to you. 

“Thomas,” You whined out - unsure if you wanted to tell him to get off or wanted to beg him for more. 

Instinctively, you reached up and gripped at his forearm, sinking into the security of his touch. It was soothing, in a sense, and at the same time - it drove your body mad and made the pain in your cunt so much worse. 

Any mental clarity you previously had was quickly fading. 

So much so that neither of you had the mind to piece together that this was happening to you because of the chemicals that had been sprayed into the room earlier. Not that you could do much about it now. 

Thomas leaned over your shoulder, stuffing his nose into your neck, taking in a purposeful, thick whiff of your scent. He drank you in so shamelessly now, so happy to have you in his arms, right where he wanted you - right where he needed you. He held your body so tight to his, almost crushing you in his grip in the most perfect way - as if worried you might escape if he let you move even an inch. 

Between desperate pants, he laid slick, open-mouthed kisses along your forehead, down the side of your face - lavishing you with affection, grateful and greedy now that he had you in his arms, now that he had caught you. Grateful that he had taken you from those bastards who had stolen you from him. Grateful that he had won. 

His actions left you panting wildly into the air as the heat surged within your body - this attention on your skin not being enough, but yet, your mind was too muddled with the overwhelming heat to ask for more. 

He continued kissing your skin, even nosing along your cheek before he finally gathered enough of his mind to speak. 

“I’ll help. I’ll help you, Y/N.” 

He huffed out, heaving more of his dense beautiful breath across your skin, making you whine again in return. 

“I’ll fix it. Just tell me. Just tell me what hurts. Please, tell me. I promise I’ll fix it. I can fix it.” 

His utter dedication to you was sewn into every word, clutching you tighter across the chest in a way that almost crushed your windpipe - something that made you gasp for air and nearly thank him for it, wanting to dissolve back into his hot muscles and live there, somehow still not close enough. 

“I’ll do anything for you, Y/N, I will. I’ll help you. Just tell me, please.” 

You found the fire of that dedication more enlightening than the one slowly boiling you to death from inside, and it was that - that sacred promise that had you finally giving in. It was Thomas’s sacred affection for you that finally made you feel safe to give into your body’s needs. 

You reached out and grabbed Thomas’s hand - the one hovering by his side that wasn’t keeping you trapped tightly against his chest. His fingers locked tightly in a fist without the fabric of his shirt to keep his knuckles from popping under the fury of his own grip this time. You rubbed soothingly on the back of his palm, loosening the muscles there before you guided that hand between your thighs, guiding him to touch you on your still clothed pussy, through your pants. 

“Here, Tommy.” You breathed out, your tongue feeling so fat and useless in your mouth. “It hurts here. Need your help. Need you.” 

Without a moment of hesitation, instantly understanding what you needed, sparked with even more desperation by the nickname on your lips, Thomas sprung into action. 

He began frantically rubbing your pussy through your pants - inadvertently pushing the zipper at the front of your trousers right up against your clit with the heavy weight of his palm. A sensation that made you keen out and arch back into him as though you had been possessed, harsh, amazing tingles zapping through your body from that tiny point. You threw your head back against his shoulder and relied even more on the strength of his body and the will of his grip across your shoulders not to fall down as ravenous pleasure overtook you. 

“I’ll fix it.” He huffed into your ear. 

His voice barely registered to you past the shocking beautiful pleasure he was causing between your thighs as he continued to rub your clothed clit. 

“I’ll make it better. I’ll make it all better.” 

He laid more hot, sloppy kisses against your neck and your cheek, and you could do little more than moan out loudly and squirm against him, becoming utterly lost in the sensations. You accidentally humped your ass against his cock in a way that made him growl and rub your clit even harder, even faster. It made you absolutely alight with pleasure, filling all of your senses with nothing but him. Nothing but the feeling of his strong arm working between your thighs, nothing but the scent of his sweat in the air, nothing but his quiet growls against your ear. 

“Oh, Tommy!” You moaned out. “I’m gonna-” 

Before you knew it, your body had been overtaken by the intense wave of an orgasm, something that had you crying out loudly and shaking in his arms, your body beautifully dizzy in seconds. You reached out to grip his forearm, leaving claw marks in his skin while you let out a stream of incoherent sounds as the sensations rocked you. 

“Hey, shh. I got you. I got you,” He was nothing but a sweet assurance in your ear - his dick still throbbing and utterly needy in his pants, but forgotten in favor of pleasing you. For now. 

After a few moments, he lifted his hand from between your thighs, causing a sharp whine of disappointment from you. He used this touch to force your jaw toward him, twisting your neck awkwardly to meet him in a kiss over your shoulder. It caused an ache in your neck, but you delighted in the feeling of his lips desperately clinging to your own, the chance to steal his breath.

You had thought about kissing Thomas many times before - but you had never imagined that it would be like this. 

When it was over, there was one thing that both of you knew for certain: you both needed more.

“Please, Tommy.” You breathed against his mouth as you pulled away from the kiss. “I need more. Please.” 

Every single instinct inside of him screamed to follow this order - that this was the divine answer to his existence. This was everything his life had been leading up to from the moment he had seen your sweet face after he had been pulled out of that fucking Box. 

“I got you.” He assured you. 

He then guided you back to the bed and - very hesitantly - separated his grip from you in order to make sure that you could comfortably lay down on your back. Within seconds, he was on you again, absorbing your mouth into a hot, desperate kiss while he laid flush on top of you. 

You couldn’t help but to moan into that kiss, fisting your hands into his hair, holding him tightly to you as though he was your only source of oxygen - welcoming it when his tongue forced its way into your mouth. You sucked on it and moaned around him, becoming dizzier with the heat. 

When you felt his hard cock against your thigh, feeling him jutting his hips forward to try and find some relief against you - it caused a deeper pain in your pussy, a distinct feeling of emptiness and you knew that you needed more. You knew exactly what you needed - what that ‘more’ was. 

You pulled back from the kiss to whimper against his lips. 

“More.” You pleaded gently. “Please, Tommy.” 

“Yes.” He huffed back in return. “Anything - anything for you.” 

Naturally, his hands went back between your legs, and you guided him up to the button of your pants, both of you working frantically in tandem to get your pants off this time. That nagging heat only building inside of you, something telling you that you would go insane if you didn’t get your clothes off soon. While Thomas ripped your pants down over your thighs, pulling your underwear with them, you sat up slightly and ditched your shirt, leaving you wearing only the thin cotton bra that had come with this set of new clothes. 

Thomas let out a growl when more of your delicious scent hit him. With your pants around your ankles, it was more pungent now, ripe in the air, smacking him in the face in the most perfect way. And he felt another wave of crippling heat punch him in the gut as it fogged his brain over. It was so pungent that it was ripe on his tongue and he needed more. Something in his brain was chanting at him that he needed to taste it - he needed to devour that delicious scent, the essence of you, right from the fucking source. 

With his tongue lapping at the air like a fucking dog, Thomas let out more thick, heavy breaths while he desperately tried to untangle the fabric from your ankles, trying to free you so that he could have better access to you. After a moment too long of struggle for both of your liking, he was finally able to toss it all carelessly behind him, leaving you almost naked beneath him. 

But he didn’t have a moment to marvel at the beauty of your bare body. A sight that he had imagined so many times before in his mind’s eye, snuck away into the privacy of the woods with a hand tight around his cock thinking about this exact sight - no, he couldn’t sit back and simply drink it in. 

He was a man on a mission - a man living through a years long drought and finally met with the glorious fountain that would eternally quench his thirst. 

He didn’t even question the need to put his mouth on your pussy, didn’t wonder why the thought was so prominently at the forefront of his mind. Instead, he simply pinned your legs open against the bed with his palms flat on your inner thighs and did it, chased the urge that rang through his mind so damn clearly. 

“Oh, Thomas!” 

In seconds, it was the most divine thing he had ever experienced. 

With you moaning above his head, gasping out his name, with your taste so pungent on his tongue, with your heat beating under his mouth - it was too fucking perfect to let go of. 

Thomas moaned into your pussy, pure fuzzy pleasure melting his brain between his ears, making it impossible for him to think of anything but you. His mind filled with nothing but feed me, feed me, keep me alive, you are my life. 

The thick taste of your wetness on his tongue was all he needed, all he needed to live from now on, nothing more. He could feel you squirming and fighting against him; he could feel your thighs jolting and jumping under his hands as your nerves were overstimulated. He could feel your hips bucking up into his face, smearing more of that perfect wetness across his chin and cheeks, smothering him in it - perfect, how perfect. 

He could feel the sting of you tugging on his hair but it only added to the perfect sensation of dumb dizziness that pumped through him, that made him so fucking ravenous for you. It only made him moan into your cunt louder and shove his tongue into you deeper, looking for more. 

“Oh, ugh! Tommy! Tommy!” 

You felt like you were burning alive. 

His tongue against you was horrible and perfect - doing nothing to relieve the ache deep inside of you, one that demanded to be filled. 

His tongue lapping at you so hungrily only added more terrible, sweltering heat, causing more shocks of pleasure stinging up your body with each deep pass of his tongue that he swept over you, trying to devour you whole. 

The more he moaned against you, the more he vibrated your already sore clit, making you cry out, the more he caused your body to be consumed by that deep, uncomfortable he. The more he made it near impossible for you to breathe past the moans fighting out of your lungs. 

You desperately tugged on his hair, but only got his attention when you finally fought hard enough to get words out. 

“Tommy, please!” You begged, tears spilling out of your eyes now. “Please, stop! It hurts!” 

Those words - those painful words shocked Thomas back to reality. 

Had he been selfish, drinking from your essence to satisfy his thirst without considering your own? 

He pulled back from your pussy with a wet smack that made you whimper, taking his hands off your thighs, finally freeing your legs from the tight, stretched out position. Somehow, he looked even better staring you down with those needy, wide eyes while his face was covered in your juices. 

“Sorry, I’m sorry, I-” 

“Please, just - I need you.” You choked out in reply, reaching a shaking hand toward his pants. “I need you inside me, Tommy. I need you to fix it.” 

“Yes, yes, yes.” Thomas replied, chanting to you as though answering a prayer in a place of worship, fully prepared to worship you as the goddess you were to him. “Yes, I’ll fix it.” 

He rushed to get his pants and underwear off with just as much frantic struggle, and soon he was naked on top of you. Meanwhile, you ripped off the stupid bra in order to feel the satisfying press of his bare skin on yours, something impossibly boiling hot. A feeling that had you moaning into his shoulder while you hooked your leg around his hip, urgent to get closer to him. 

Without a second of hesitation, Thomas sunk his cock inside of you. 

His cock was a searing hot rod pressing into your well-slicked entrance, making both of you white-out with the feeling for a few moments while the need and satisfaction rattled through your insides. It was what you had both been waiting for, desperately needing from the moment that mystery chemical had hit your systems. And now that you had it - Thomas’s cock deep inside of you, the perfect satisfaction of being joined, being as close as possible, your body sang with perfect relief. 

But there was still that nagging for something more. 

Neither of you would be satisfied - it wouldn’t fully be out of your systems until you both came from this. 

It was that nagging that had him gripping onto your hips, holding you still so that he could begin hammering into you, desperate to answer that nagging in the back of his skull: fuck her, take her, fill her up - she’s yours. She is yours. 

It was a feeling so utterly perfect that you instantly relaxed against him - all of your muscles melting into the feeling of his cock fucking into you so rapidly, filling you up so well. You gripped tightly at his back, determined to hold him close, just as he had done to you before. You needed to keep him absolutely close, so tight to your body while his cock filled you up so perfectly. 

“Tommy, please. Oh, oh, Tommy!” You moaned into his neck, your pussy fluttering around him as his hips stuttered. 

Overwhelmed and dizzy with the heat, from the tips of his ears to the space where his cock sunk deep into your warm pussy, drowning in wetness, he could only focus on one thing. One single mission rattling between his ears. 

Fill her up. Make her yours. 

“Gonna fill you up.” He growled back, not even entirely realizing that he was speaking these words aloud - a sacred promise to him now, the only driving force of his entire life, the thing that his entire existence hinged on. “Gonna make you so full of me. So perfect, so full of me.” 

Getting lost in your warm pussy, filling you up, making your pain go away, worshiping you. He wasn’t going to lose you again, he was going to keep you safe. He was going to keep you in his arms forever, was going to keep you safe, wrapped around his cock - forever. He fucked his hips forward harder, making a loud, wet smack continually resonate throughout the room as he tried his hardest to deliver on these promises. 

“Gonna make you mine,” He growled, his voice reaching a deep tone that you had only ever heard when he had argued with Gally - ticked off, full of rage. “Gonna keep you safe. Forever.” 

But somehow - this was different. It was a rage that was twinged with passion. 

With love. 

It was a sound that made all the hair on your body stand on end, forced a sharp gasp from your lips as it utterly rocked your body. 

You dug your nails into his back, possessively gripping the flesh, holding him tightly, trying to keep him close. Forcing him to keep his promises. 

“Yours.” You echoed back, your voice half-breath, half pure need. 

“You are mine.” He groaned in return. “Mine, mine, mine, mine-” 

He chanted this as a mantra, fucking into you harder with each utterance of the sacred word before he cut himself off with a harsh gasp, his hips stilling suddenly. 

And then - perfection. 

He pressed into you as deeply as possible, filling you up with perfect warmth, delivering on his promise. Your gut curled with a nearly painful orgasm in response, causing you to bite down tightly on the flesh of his shoulder as you moaned wildly against him. Tears leaked from your eyes as you were nearly blinded with euphoria. 

“Mine.” Thomas hummed again, almost quietly to himself, leaving a small peak on the side of your neck to compliment his point. 

Once again, just as he had done when he first entered the room, he cradled your head so softly, petting your hair soothingly. It was a deep contrast to the near rabid man who had been fucking you only a minute ago. And he gently humped his hips against you, something unconscious telling him to make sure that he fucked his cum deeper into you - nice and deep. 

The two of you stayed tangled like this, instinctively not wanting to pull away from each other, an intense need to stay locked so close. Needing to be close to the person you needed most. In an effort not to crush you with his body weight, Thomas rolled onto his side, with you still holding him tightly, with your leg still hooked over his hip, with his softening cock slightly falling out of your now messy cunt - much to the disappointment of both of you. 

(Thomas surprised himself when he shoved his hips forward, trying to get closer, trying to get back inside of you.) 

But you both felt much more at ease now. And tangled together like that, with your arms wrapped around each other, with Thomas gently kissing over your forehead and your shoulders - you both dozed off into a gentle sleep. 

… 

Thomas woke up cold and alone. 

He dressed frantically, and surprisingly, he found the door unlocked. 

He had too many questions, and had one singular mission on his mind: 

Find you, and kill anybody who had laid their hands on you without his permission.

...

A/N: Please keep in mind, this is a oneshot, and there will not be a continuation or a 'Part 2'. If you liked this fic, please consider showing me that by reblogging or commenting, but if you are going to comment, please comment about the body of work that has been written instead of asking for more. If you want to see more fics from this fandom, I will be posting more in the future, and if you want to see more things that I have already posted, I have over one million words worth of work between my AO3 (linked in my pinned post) and my Masterlist for you to enjoy. Happy reading, and I hope you have a great day!!

[writing-nothing-but-spilled-ink]

Anyways this thought came to my head now I'm obligated to share

This is an au where Selina Kyle and Bruce actually get married and are in the process of like sharing a life together

Anyways this is a thing I think would be funny if it happened

Bruce is just excited to tell his friend the good news but his friend isn't exactly thrilled it's 2 am and while Gotham never sleeps Harvey dent aka two face is fucking horrified by the. Text he just received from fucking Bruce Wayne, how he got his number he doesn't fucking know the text in question

JUST GOT MARRIED!!!! 🥳🍾🍻🎉 Also totally off topic but I did not sign a prenup btw any idea of what my shares are Selina is asked for some so I gave her some but I don't actually know what they are

Two face just immediately starts blowing up Bruce's phone trying to get that man to answer is a fucking nightmare especially whenever he gets a new partner to spend time with it's like he can't see behind the pretty girl in front of him, he may be the world's greatest detective but when it comes to romantic partners he's the world's biggest idiot especially when he's in love

Finally two face starts falling Bruce and when he finally does answer he's on speaker with Selina in the room

"Bruce for the love of God tell me you had her sign a goddamn prenup, did you even discuss custody arrangements, HOW AND WHY ARE YOU GIVING HER YOUR SHARES WITHOUT KNOWING WHAT IT IS THAT YOU HAVE TELL ME THAT THIS IS A JOKE".

Bruce: I think your jealous of what I have with Selina, I trust her completely there's no need for a prenup, as for the kids they won't be a problem, and that's precisely why I texted you afterall you were one of my closest advisors for years also I thought you'd be happy for me, ya know it's not my fault yo-"

Two face: BRUCE I AM NOT JEALOUS I AM CONCERNED SELINA IS INFAMOUS FOR BEING INTERESTED IN HER OWN POCKETS AND ANYTHING SHINY, AND NEED I REMIND YOU THAT WE AREN'T FRIENDS WE HAVENT BEEN FRIENDS FOR YEARS IDK IF YOUR DRUNK OR STUPID BUT KNOWING YOU ITS PROBABLY BOTH, YOU NEED TO SEND ME ALL THE PAPERWORK REGARDING YOUR NEW MARRIAGE IMMEDIATELY SO I CAN FIX THIS GODDAMN MESS CAUSE I WILL NOT LISTEN TO YOU CRY AND WHINE WHEN THIS BLOWS UP IN YOUR STUPID ASS FACE DOES ALFRED EVEN ONOW OF YOUR STUPIDITY BECAUSE THIS IS A NEW KIND OF STUPID EVEN FOR YOU WORLDS GREATEST DETECTIVE MY ASS

Bruce merely smiles and says you wouldn't be nearly this worked up if you didn't care I knew you were still in there harv I just wanted the proof that my friend still exists I'd like for you to be my second best man at my wedding also you should come to dinner some time the kids they all miss you, and some of them have started to take an interest in the law you were at the top of your field maybe you could point them in the right direction, as for me and Selina while we did elope it has not get been made official so if you really want me to do all this paperwork you must come over for a family meal Bruce then promptly hangs up leaving Harvey absolutely flabbergasted because wtf just happened and how the fuck, wait did he just get fucking adopted by Bruce Wayne, he's a fucking supervillain and he got roped into attending a family dinner..

A moment later his phone dings and he opens it to see a big list of various foods drinks appetizers and deserts with a text at the bottom that says choose three of your favorites from each category and just dress casual or whatever's most comfortable to you it's only a small family dinner please email Alfred a list of any diet restrictions or food allergies you may have it'll be nice to have you over and don't worry Selina has agreed to play nice I know the two of you haven't always gotten along, his phone lights up again with a Gmail account to Alfred pennyworth two face can't argue so he just sighs exasperated and just RSVPs everything and goes in to see the gotham seamstress for something a bit more fancy for this get together and one extra nice suit for the wedding

[echo-riot]

Texting loser!Ellie

An: I really love these tbh-

•|||——————————————————————|||•

1:29 am

Ellie: Hey, uh… you busy?

You: Not really. Why?

Ellie: Oh, uh, no reason. Just… thinking about you. Like, not in a weird way. Or maybe a little weird? But not creepy weird. Just normal weird. You know what I mean?

You: Ellie, breathe. What’s on your mind?

Ellie: Okay, so, like… you know how I said I wasn’t gonna be all clingy? Yeah, I lied. I miss you. A lot. It’s pathetic. Please don’t make fun of me.

You: Aw, you’re cute. I miss you too. What are you doing right now?

Ellie: Thinking about your thighs. Uh—I MEAN. Playing guitar. Totally just playing guitar. Haha.

You: Ellie… are you serious right now?

Ellie: My brain is broken. Ignore me.

You: Nope. Too late. So, what exactly are you thinking about my thighs?

Ellie: STOP. I can’t handle this kind of pressure. I’m already sweating.

You: Sounds like a “you” problem. But I kinda like knowing you’re flustered over me.

Ellie: Oh, I’m beyond flustered. I’m like… short-circuiting. Can you just, like, show up at my place and sit on my face so I stop embarrassing myself?

You: Bold of you to assume I’d let you off the hook that easily.

Ellie: PLEASE, I’M BEGGING YOU. I’ll do anything. Wash your car? Carry your groceries? Worship the ground you walk on? Actually, I already do that

You: Yeah, I know you do. Loser.

Ellie: Rude, but accurate. Anyway, I gotta go. Gonna play guitar and pretend I didn’t just admit that I’m obsessed with you.

You: Obsessed, huh? Good to know. Maybe I’ll reward you later

Ellie: DON’T TEASE ME LIKE THAT. My heart can’t handle it.

You: Guess you’ll have to wait and find out. Bye, loser.

Ellie: I love you, okay? I LOVE YOU. There, I said it. Bye.

•|||——————————————————————|||•

2:20 pm

Ellie: Hey, so, uh… question.

You: Here we go. What’s up?

Ellie: Hypothetically… if I were to, like, write a song about you, would you think that’s cool or kinda cringe?

You: Depends. How many times does the word “thighs” show up in the lyrics?

Ellie: Why are you like this? I’m trying to be romantic, and you’re bullying me.

You: Oh, I’m the bully? Says the girl who stared at me for five minutes straight last night and then said, “Sorry, you’re just really distracting.”

Ellie: IT WAS A COMPLIMENT. Also, you were wearing those shorts. What was I supposed to do?

You: Be normal?

Ellie: Impossible. I saw your legs and forgot how to act. You’re lucky I didn’t pass out.

You: Wow, I’m flattered. So where’s this hypothetical song?

Ellie: …It’s not done yet. But I might’ve rhymed “perfect” with “I’m not worth it.” Thoughts?

You: Ellie, you’re such a loser, but I love you.

Ellie: Yeah? Say it again. Slowly this time.

You: Nice try. Not happening.

Ellie: Fine. Guess I’ll just sit here and suffer in silence, replaying it in my head.

•|||——————————————————————|||•

12:30 am

Ellie: Hey.

You: Hi. What now?

Ellie: What do you think it would take to convince you to marry me? Like, is there a specific snack you like? Or should I just propose while holding your dog hostage?

You: Ellie, we’ve been dating for three months.

Ellie: Okay, but, counterpoint: you’re perfect, and I don’t want to wait. I’d propose tomorrow if I wasn’t afraid of passing out mid-speech.

You: Big words for someone who forgets to text back for three days.

Ellie: HEY. That’s a creative process issue, not a love issue.

You: So what I’m hearing is… you’re madly in love with me and bad at time management.

Ellie: Exactly. See? You get me.

•|||——————————————————————|||•

3:30 pm

Ellie: Okay, I’m officially spiraling. Can I just tell you something without you making fun of me?

You: No promises. Go on.

Ellie: Sometimes I sit around and think about how lucky I am that you actually like me. Like, I’m a disaster, and you’re… you’re you. It doesn’t make sense, but I’m not questioning it. I just—thank you for putting up with me.

You: Ellie, you’re my favorite disaster. And if you keep being cute, I might actually have to show up at your place and kiss you right now.

Ellie: DO IT. PLEASE. I’LL PAY FOR YOUR GAS. I’LL—

You: Relax, loser. I’m already outside.

Ellie: Wait, what?! Hold on, I gotta brush my hair—

You: Too late. I’m coming in.

•|||——————————————————————|||•

10:30 am

Ellie: Hey.

You: Hi, Ellie. What’s up?

Ellie: Can I say something without you laughing at me?

You: You’ve already asked this today, and it was hilarious. Go ahead.

Ellie: Okay, so like… I’m trying really hard not to think about the way your ass looked in those jeans earlier.

You: Ellie.

Ellie: What? I’m being honest. It’s a problem. I almost walked into a pole because of you.

You: It’s not my fault you have no self-control.

Ellie: Self-control? With you? Yeah, right. You literally walked by me, and I stopped functioning.

You: Good to know I have that effect on you.

Ellie: Oh, you know. You definitely know. You’re evil for it, by the way.

•|||——————————————————————|||•

4:40 pm

Ellie: Hey. Are you busy?

You: Not really. Why?

Ellie: Because I was thinking… you should come over. Like, now.

You:Why?

Ellie: Because I miss you. And because I really need to kiss you. Maybe more than kiss you. But, uh… yeah.

You: You’re bold today.

Ellie: You’re hot every day, so I figured I’d stop pretending to be cool about it.

You: Ellie, you’re such a dork.

Ellie: Okay, but I’m YOUR dork. Come over so I can prove it.

•|||——————————————————————|||•

2:28 pm

Ellie: I just saw your Instagram story. I’m losing my mind over here.

You: Why? It’s just a selfie.

Ellie: Just a selfie?? You looked so good, I almost dropped my guitar. What are you trying to do to me?

You: Ellie, calm down.

Ellie: Calm down? You’re out here looking like THAT, and I’m supposed to act normal? No chance.

You: So dramatic.

Ellie: You think it’s funny, but I’m literally sitting here like, “Wow, that’s my girlfriend. I’m the luckiest loser alive.”

•|||——————————————————————|||•

9:34 pm

Ellie: I can’t stop thinking about you.

You: What else is new?

Ellie: No, but like… it’s bad. I’m at the store, and everything reminds me of you. I saw strawberries and thought about how you taste like them when you wear that lip gloss. It’s driving me insane.

You: Ellie, get it together.

Ellie: Can’t. Don’t wanna. I’d rather think about you.

You: You’re so thirsty.

Ellie: Yeah, for YOU. And I’m not sorry about it.

You: You’re ridiculous.

Ellie: But you love it. And you love me. Soooo… can I come over?

You: You’re lucky I love you.

Ellie: I know. Be ready when I get there.

[wynnshxfts]

hello!

i found ur page and wanted to ask more about aizawa if u dont mind!! like what does he look like and whats he like and does he have a gf omg what was that

ֺ ۪ 　　𝜗𝜚⠀　come into the water ..

━ aizawa in my dr !!

ֺ ۪ APPEARANCE : He has dark brown eyes with hazel highlights. When his quirk is activated, they glow yellow. You can't see the glow with his goggles on, but I think It's beautiful. His eyelashes are really pretty, It's something that always stood out to me about him. He has a nice facial structure. There are bags under his eyes, I wish he'd let himself rest more. Actually, I'm surprised Mic doesn't have bags under his eyes too with all the work he does. He doesn't care much for his appearance, which is a shocker because he looks so.. anyways. His hair is usually messy, but he does in fact comb it - It's just thick (if that makes sense). His eyes are tired and cold. I'm not sure if anyone else notices, but I love when they soften. His lips are dry, and Mic will leave chap stick on his desk sometimes. He has no clue who's doing it and sees it as an insult. He's always wearing his scarf - and he looks naked without it. One time I blew on his neck while It wasn't on and he freaked the fuck out. He likes wearing black, but he isn't restricted to it. Mic and me try and take him out to shop but he absolutely hates shopping. Cannot blame him because I do too. Mic on the other hand loves it. He also has horrible taste in shoes, sorry bud. He smells comforting. That's the best way I can describe that. When we drifted apart briefly after high school, I had a hoodie of his and I kept it. Very sad day when it stopped smelling like him. He has big hands, at least, bigger than mine.

ֺ ۪ HABITS : He scratches at the scar under his eye a lot. I can never tell if It's actually itchy or a nervous habit. One time I caught him doing a grounding exercise, tapping his fingers against his thumb and counting back and forth. I notice he scratches a lot - his hand, his palm, his neck, his head. He doesn't have long fingernails. Odd detail I wanted to add. When he's annoyed he taps his heel like an angry bunny. If you point it out, he'll stop.

ֺ ۪ ABOUT : He's very sweet, don't let his tough exterior fool you. He's so caring. He doesn't let himself get close to people, so his relationships mostly consist of those who do put in that effort. He has a big heart, he always has. Sometimes I wonder what it'd be like if quirks didn't exist, would he let others in? Anyways, he is single. I don't think he's ever been in a relationship, actually. He tried dating someone once in high school, but I don't think that counts. He's very unsure when it comes to that stuff. He's always to the point and doesn't stand for any nonsense. It's funny, because in high school he wasn't much of the voice of reason. He usually got just as caught up in shenanigans as others. He does small acts to show he cares, like letting people he's comfortable with fall asleep on his shoulder (which isn't as romantic as it seems. it hurts like hell afterwards.) and .. well, It's hard to explain when you don't experience it in the moment. But he has a softer look to his gaze when he does acts of kindness. He also is actually very bad with eye contact on occasion. Like when he's doing something sweet he'll keep his gaze off of me. Unsure if he does this with others.

ֺ ۪ He isn't much different than canon. But then again, I might be forgetting to add stuff because I already view that as apart of him that everyone knows. If you have any more questions, ask away! Also a small note, but him being single is a running joke Midnight always brings up. She also likes joke shipping him with others he's even slightly kind to together. Bi icon, ily Midnight. Oh, he also has some scars on his chest. Do not ask how I know this.

[linddzz]

Hello, I wanted to ask you a question since I love the way you answer. The other day I saw a discussion that was generated by the scene in the council of Jayce and Mel in chapter 8 and many of them did not understand Jayce's reaction (they basically destroyed him). I particularly understand, and other people do, that Jayce is acting according to the consequences of the trauma he lived in the other dimension (obviously it does not justify the mistreatment). I think that he is carrying a lot of guilt and pain for his past actions, and he needs to unload that. In addition to that in the case with Mel, their intimate bond is broken by the manipulation he suffered from her (although he also had his things). But people say that he is an exaggerator, an impulsive fool, Mel also went through horrible situations (I do not deny it) and yet she did not treat him badly at that time. Well, I would like to know your opinion regarding this scene that generates debate.

It is always wild to me when I hear of or see glimpses of Arcane discourse that can be summed up with "we missed the point of the show that's heavily themed on how trauma and emotional upheaval can cause people to act in ways we may not agree with, but can understand" :)))

Also wild that people expect Jayce to be perfectly rational and emotionally competent here after we just saw him staggering around Viktor's commune with terrifying hallucinations, screaming as he blasts a hole in Viktor's chest. Not to mention that we just saw the actual hell he went through that left him in that state?? Is Jayce, who has shown that he reacts with brash anger when he's frightened and in over his head, maybe going to not be the most level headed??

One thing that I really like about the scene is that he DOES apologize to Mel afterwards. He recognizes that he acted out, apologizes for being an asshole, and recognizes that Mel is hurting as well. Yeah his actions weren't great (tho to me seeing him acting physically aggressive was another sign of just how fucked up Jayce was) but damn in the context of how everyone else in this show responds to emotional trauma, he's pretty mild.

I'll also argue that neither of them are wrong in this scene, and you can pretty clearly see why he escalated so quick. Even without an in depth analysis that looks further back, his reactions are pretty understandable (for said analysis, @avelera has some great posts on this as a breakup scene for Jayce and Mel, pointing out that his auditory flashbacks in the pit focused a lot on realizing that Mel was using them) Let's break it down:

Scene opens with Jayce already reminiscing on the traumatic event that started all this. He's standing in the place where Viktor died, where Jayce made the decisions that created whatever Viktor is now. When you rewatch it, you have the added context that he's likely grappling with what Mage Viktor has told him. It's important to note that at this point, he doesn't know that Mel has arcane powers until his hammer and arcane corrupted mind spidey-sense her arrival.

We already know he was dealing with a ton of survivors guilt for being untouched by the blast while everyone else was grievously injured, and while Viktor specifically mortally wounded. This is probably the worst place and the worst time for him to learn that Mel has arcane powers and that she's the reason they were unharmed. And that sucks. Because he's closing Mel off even harder than he already would have, while he's the one Mel learned to be more emotionally vulnerable with.

Something happened to her too, and she reaches out for that connection. She doesn't need to be a strong Noxian with Jayce, so she tries to connect on the fact that they both obviously went through something, but unfortunately it's just when he thinks his worst suspicions about her are confirmed. 

Because hey let's ALSO talk about Jayce realizing Mel has been using him and why he's gonna take that hard! Jayce is pretty obviously a romantic person in season 1. It's almost a comedy beat when he snuggles up in her lap and she looks startled with the realization that her boytoy is a puppy. That is so obviously a lad who does not see sex as something casual, and he's very emotionally vulnerable with Mel very quickly.

Now, we, the viewers, have been able to see Mel allowing herself more vulnerability with Jayce in return. We've seen that she views her political manipulation as a way to benefit everyone. We've seen that she really came to care about Jayce, that sleeping with him became more than another way to influence him. But Jayce has only now realized he WAS being used. Who WOULD respond nicely to that? 

So you have that, on top of suddenly learning there is a reason he was fine while Viktor wasn't. Yes it's unfair to immediately blame her for it, but as soon as he says "because you used me!" I had a moment of "OH...yeah actually he's right tho. he's not out of pocket there"

(Also we can see him shutting that emotional vulnerability down. He tells Mel "it doesn't matter" because he's seen how his openness with her made him easy to manipulate. Again, she has opened herself up in return, but he has no way of knowing how much was sincere or not and is in no state to be rational about any of it.)

It doesn't help that she pretty much confirms that she used him. To Mel, it's not an insult to be seen as an investment by her, so she justifies herself for it, and I'm gonna read her a bit for this; when someone is feeling some sort of way about being used as an investment, explaining why they were a great investment isn't the best move!

And then. Yaknow. His brain is all jacked up from Arcane corruption and he's got Mel already setting that off with her powers, then Viktor's making them go extra wild by creeping around with his freaky little cuntbot. I didn't like him getting physically intimidating but it's also pretty obvious that he was seeing her as an active threat until Viktor showed up.

And again. He pretty quickly apologized and gave her an opening to talk about what happened to her. It's not perfect, but no one on this show IS. That's the point of the show! The fact that he quickly apologizes both times we see him lash out at people he cares about shows a pretty substantial amount of emotional intelligence in comparison to everyone else in this "Hurt People Hurt People" show.

So. yeah. I also had the emotional journey of "hey Jayce that's not fair, she pretty obviously said she couldn't control it, what the hell are you stalking at her with that hammer for- OH. I mean. YEAH she did use you that....hey that part's fair...also Mel back up girl, he's super obviously Not Okay." But I think acting like Jayce is some sort of unique asshole in THIS SHOW is quite a stretch.