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thecharacterchronicler · 6 months ago

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Bloodline (Part 1) || Ominis Gaunt x Reader || Smut

Outline: Your family arranged for you to marry Marvolo Gaunt. Fortunately, your best friend Ominis steps up and makes sure to save you from such a fate.

Word count: 4’515

Warnings: English isn’t my first language so possible misspelled or misplaced words, arranged marriage, abusive families (mentioned), first time s*x, friends to lovers and explicit smut.

(( Part 2 - Please )) - (( Part 3 - Heirloom )) - (( Masterlist ))

The familiar flip-flap of owls entering the great hall through the windows resounded in Ominis’ ears, excited chatter rising from the students sitting at the tables as, one by one, they received their mail. The sound of paper falling on a wooden surface nearby piqued his curiosity, he didn’t receive letters often, nor did you or Sebastian but an envelope had unmistakably landed in front of one of you.

Your clothes rustled as you moved to take the paper in your hand, tearing apart the top of the envelope as your owl took flight again, its wings almost grazing Ominis’s hair on its way back to the owlery.

Despite the noise of other students all around, Ominis distinctly heard you take a sharp inhale of air, your silence as you read the letter addressed to you feeling somewhat tense.

“Is everything alright ?” He asked you, but you didn’t reply right away, too focused on whatever you were reading.

He waited a few more minutes, noticing the way your legs grew restless and your movements became agitated. You were sitting at the opposite side of the table from him and your foot bumped into his a few times as you nervously readjusted your posture.

He was too polite to insist and didn’t want to push you to share something you might want to keep for yourself, so even though he was dying to question you about the mysterious letter you had received and why its content seemed to upset you, he simply cleared his throat to remind you that he was waiting for an answer to his question.

“It’s a letter from my family.” You explained, with a slight tremble in your voice. “They say that they arranged a partnership for me, effective immediately after graduation.”

“A partnership ? You mean some kind of professional training ?” Sebastian asked, before biting into an apple.

“That would be an internship.” Ominis corrected him, shaking his head. “I think she meant something more intimate than that.”

“Like… A relationship ?” Sebastian inquired, still munching on his fruit.

“A marriage.” You stated, defeated.

“I didn’t know you were dating someone.”

“I am not.”

“It’s common for wealthy and powerful families such as hers to arrange weddings, especially if it’s a matter of keeping their bloodline alive and pure.” Ominis explained, a shiver running down his spine. That was something his family did too, they were obsessed with maintaining the quality of their bloodline, suitable matches were carefully chosen, sometimes within their own family members.

“It’s more of a business contract than a marriage.” You added, with a sigh. “And my parents are making it very clear that I don’t have any say in the matter.”

“Do you know who’s the lucky fiancé, though ?” Sebastian asked, seemingly taking such terrible news lightly. Way too lightly. It was a tragedy, really. You deserved better than to be forced into a loveless marriage under the pretense of keeping a bloodline going, securing the pride and superiority of the worst kind of wizards to exist. Maybe Sebastian couldn’t quite grasp the gravity of what you had been asked to do but Ominis knew all too well how you must feel, being robbed of your free will and freedom by a controlling and corrupted family.

“It’s Marvolo Gaunt.” You answered, bluntly, before getting up from your seat on the bench and leaving the great hall in a rush. Although Ominis couldn’t see, he felt the intensity of your gaze piercing right through him, until you were no longer in the room.

His chest tightened and his body tensed at the sound of his older brother’s name. Marvolo probably was the most cruel wizard he knew, aside from their father. Although they shared the same blood, the same family and the same education, Ominis wasn’t afraid to say that his brother was immensely deranged and should have been locked up in Azkaban a long time ago, like the rest of his family actually. The only reason rules didn’t apply to them and they were free to commit the most vile and cruel crimes without facing punishment was because they were Gaunts, descendants of the great Salazar Slytherin and held more power and wealth than any other family of wizards in the country.

And now you were going to be one of them.

He couldn’t imagine you, taking part in the cruel acts his family committed for fun. And if you didn’t, they would find a way to punish you for it, just like they had punished him in the past. The Gaunts were dangerous, and you needed to stay away from them, no matter what.

Ominis stood up, reaching for his wand to guide his steps through the corridors and halls of the castle. He needed to find you and he knew his wand would know exactly where to take him. He was racking his brain, trying to find a solution to save you from such a doomed fate as he followed mindlessly the path his wand indicated. Eventually, he found himself outside, in a narrow courtyard. Wind rustled through the leaves of a nearby tree and caressed his face, sending a cold shiver through his body. He couldn’t feel any rays of sunshine warming his skin, meaning it must be a rather cloudy afternoon. He could hear the sound of water moving in the fountain at the center of the courtyard, birds singing in the sky… And soft muffled sobs. His wand twitched, tugging him in your direction.

“I’m sorry this is happening to you.” Ominis told you, once he was standing in front of you. He could hear the sobs shaking your body as clear as day but still felt compelled to bring his hand to your face, wiping the warm teardrops away from your cheeks with his thumb. “Marvolo really isn’t a suitable match for you.”

“It’s alright, I knew this day would come eventually. I was just hoping my parents wouldn’t force me into this as soon as I was done with school.” You replied, another teardrop falling from your lashes and rolling down your cheek..

“There must be something we can do about it.” Ominis said, instinctively brushing off the fresh tear from your face. “What if you were engaged to someone else ?”

You laughed although you didn’t find anything amusing about the situation.

“During my seven years here, no one ever courted me, no one attempted to ask me on a date, I have no other prospects. And you know as well as I do that my parents shouldn’t risk angering the Gaunts.”

Ominis furrowed his brows. You were right, if your parents broke their promise to marry you off to one of his siblings, they might not make it out alive. If his parents had arranged for you to be wed to Marvolo, it meant they considered your blood pure enough to perpetuate their dignified bloodline. It was a rare occurrence, usually no one was deemed worthy enough so chances were that they’d do everything in their power to ensure that you’d become a Gaunt now that they had approved of you.

If you broke the arrangement to be with someone else, a wizard of lower class and reputation, his father would take it as an offense and you’d have to pay for such a daring act. If you married Marvolo, then surely he would take advantage of you and of your obligation to satisfy your family and his, he’d be cruel and violent, he wouldn’t care about you and would never treat you with the respect you deserved… There was only one option left.

“Marry me.” Ominis stated, determined.

“What ? What are you saying ?” You spoke, dumbstruck by the sudden suggestion.

“My parents want you to ensure the purity of our bloodline, your parents want you to earn the status and power that come with my last name… So marry me instead.”

“Ominis, you don’t have to. I can’t ask you to do that for me, that’s…” You argued, shaking your head.

“It’s a matter of time before my parents arrange a wedding for me too. I think I’d much rather be married to someone I consider a friend than a stranger they would have picked for me. So really, you’d be the one doing me a favor.” Ominis continued, his heart beating faster as he spoke. He knew it was a good idea, it would save you from Marvolo, from his family and, despite being a Gaunt himself, he would do his best to treat you well. He would never hurt you, never mock you, never give you any reason to regret choosing him instead of his brother…

So please, say yes.

His mother adjusted his tie. She told him that the all black suit she had gotten tailored made for him suited him better than anything he ever wore. She said it brought his blue eyes out, and that everyone would be able to tell that he was one of the heirs of the Gaunt name. Ominis wasn’t sure what was meant to be a compliment and what was meant as a jab, but he simply nodded at everything she said.

By the time he walked down to the garden of the imposing manor, his mother’s arm looped in his, he felt dizzy with anxiety. His heart was pounding in his chest, threatening to burst out at any minute. His ribcage felt so tight around his lungs that he could barely breathe correctly, and the more time went by, the more sweaty his hands became.

He could hear the chatter of the numerous guests his parents had invited as they took place around the lectern that had been placed at the very center of the garden. The familiar smell of roses tickled his nose, meaning the white rose bushes must be in full bloom in this season. He could feel the sunshine on his face and the warm summer air on his skin. It was a beautiful day on the gloomy manor.

His mother let go of his arm, leaving him standing on his own in front of what he imagined was an impressive audience of grumpy wizards. He still couldn’t quite catch his breath and, the moment the ambient chatter died down, his throat instantly felt constricted and his body tensed up.

He heard the whispers among the crowd and the footsteps approaching in his direction. It was unmistakably the way of walking of a man, confident and determined while the lighter steps next to his were more hesitant. In the past seven years, Ominis had memorized the sound of your steps. He also could recognize your smell in a crowd and knew exactly how soft your skin felt under his fingers. He could tell if your hair was up or let down from the way you touched and played with it and he knew that the quiet, almost imperceptible breaths you let out meant that you felt nervous. He knew all of this and more yet, he had no idea what it felt like to kiss your lips or hold you in his arms and that felt awfully wrong, considering what you both were about to do.

The man that had accompanied you walked away, leaving you standing with Ominis in front of prying, curious eyes. You didn’t say anything to each other, too busy trying to not pass out from how anxious you both felt. The contract was written and placed on the pupil in front of you, its tricky clauses oozing with dark magic.

It wasn’t just any contract. It was a cursed one, meant to bind you together forever. The words til death do us part took a different meaning as you signed your name at the bottom of the page, knowing that if you ever tried to leave him, you’d most likely be instantly killed by some kind of dark spell that probably was forbidden to cast. The promises you made by signing this contract were definitive and the consequences if you failed to hold them were deadly. At the very least, you both could feel thankful that you weren’t making such vows to a complete stranger.

Ominis signed the parchment too, the ink dripping from the quill dark red like blood. The contract was sealed with applause and illegal magic, making you his wife. For the rest of your lives.

The dinner that followed the ceremony was dull and mostly boring, a display of Mister Gaunt’s power and a lecture on his narrow views about muggles and mudblood wizards, as the guests listened quietly to his speech, nodding in agreement every once in a while. Eventually, Ominis took his leave, pretending that he was exhausted from the events of the day. You excused yourself too, glad to find him waiting for you in the hallway.

He knew the manor he grew up in in details and could navigate it without the help of his wand. He guided you upstairs, through the dark corridor that led to his bedroom. He opened the door for you, letting you step inside first before following you in and shutting the door behind him. He had never had any guest in his bedroom before and that realization made him feel uneasy. He knew that the servants kept his room neat and tidy - just how he liked it - but he wasn’t sure of what you were going to think about the ancient desk he sat at to write his letters to Sebastian, or the books that lined the shelves of bookcases that reached the ceiling. And what about the four poster bed he slept in, he had always found it large and comfortable but suddenly he worried it might be too small to share with you.

“Once we move into our own home we’ll be able to sleep in separate rooms. But for now, I think it’s better if we share mine.” He said, hoping that you wouldn’t feel too uncomfortable here until then.

To convince his parents to let him marry you instead of his brother, he had pretended he was madly, irredeemably in love with you. At first, they didn’t like it, saying that love made men foolish and pushed them to their demise but, eventually, they came to the realization that him wanting you so badly would serve the purpose of continuing their bloodline. Many heirs could be born from such desires.

Now that you were here, in the intimacy of his bedroom, he couldn’t help but think about it. How amazing it would be to kiss you, touch you, make you his as everybody expected him to. But he wouldn’t do it. Mainly because he was a gentleman and had promised himself that he would never, ever, disrespect you. And also because he was determined to not give his parents the satisfaction of having any heirs from him. The Gaunt bloodline was poison, corrupted with dark practices and immorality. Sooner or later, one of them would cause unforgivable chaos in the world, so he was determined to prevent it from happening anyway he could.

“I’m sorry that you had to do this.” You told him, taking a closer look at the books on his nightstand. You sounded sincere, as if you felt guilty that he now had the privilege of calling you his wife. “You should have been able to marry someone you love.”

Ominis had never felt anything remotely close to what was described in the books he read for someone, nor did he experience the crushes Sebastian so often had on a random person every once in a while. The only woman that had somehow interested him was you. He cared about you. And maybe it was an acceptable foundation for a marriage.

“You should have been able to do that too.” You sat on his bed, your wedding dress crunching up above your legs. He approached, heart hammering in his chest. “But for what it’s worth, I consider myself lucky to call you my wife.”

You smiled and reached out to take his hand in yours. His palms were sweaty, as per usual when you were around, but you didn’t seem bothered by that, pulling him so that he’d sit on the bed next to you.

“Do you mind if I try something ?” You asked him, a bit hesitantly. He took a sharp inhale of air, his body straightening up with sudden tension. In appearance, he seemed quite uncomfortable to be sitting so close to you, and even more now that you had asked him such a question, but he nodded despite hating being unsure of what to expect.

You moved closer, slowly. Your scent tickled his nose, he knew it by heart, he had fell asleep more than once to the faint perfume you left on the common room’s couch pillows, usually prompting him to dream of you. He felt your soft, warm breath caress his skin, indicating that your face was inching impossibly close towards his. He held his breath as you pressed your delicate lips to his, giving him a chaste kiss to seal your union, far from prying eyes.

He kept his eyes closed when you moved away, conflicted emotions passing on his face. He wasn’t expecting to feel so many tingles in his stomach after such a light and short kiss, yet even now that you had moved away, he still felt millions of butterflies tingling under his skin. He left out the breath he had been holding, taking just enough air to say your name, softly.

“I’m sorry, I just wanted to know what it felt like.” You apologized, and he knew from the sound of your voice that you must be blushing.

He had wondered what it would feel like to kiss you too, more than he’d like to admit. A friend shouldn’t be curious about such things, it felt wrong to him, like he was betraying you by having such intimate thoughts about you. He hated how conflicted he felt whenever he woke up with an erection because he had spent the night dreaming of you touching him, and he hated how his primal instinct sometimes took over and he’d end up brushing against your chest or your back under the pretense that he couldn’t see what he was doing. He shouldn’t feel so desperate for his friend to kiss him again, and surely he shouldn’t want to be given permission to explore the body of his friend in details… But perhaps, if such desires weren’t acceptable between friends, they could be considered reasonable ones to have for his wife…

“Don’t apologize, we’re married now after all.” He gulped, feeling the temperature of his body rising. “Kissing is one of the many things that will be expected from us.”

You moved, suddenly growing agitated next to him. He could hear the rustle of the fabric of your wedding dress, the sound of clasps being opened and knots getting untied. He didn’t dare to move, not even breathe, as he carefully listened for a clue as to what you were up to. Then, he felt your hands on his chest, slowly undoing the buttons of his vest, one by one.

“What are you doing ?” He asked, his breath catching in his throat when his hands, resting on his lap, brushed against your bare thighs.

“Another thing that is expected of us.” You simply replied, now dragging his vest down his shoulders, before repeating the same actions to remove his shirt. He heard your surprised, yet quiet, gasp and the way your breathing became labored at the sight of his chest. He felt your fingers tracing the lines of his abs, brushing against the blond hair under his navel and grazing the elastic of his pants.

He said your name in a whisper, wanting it to be a warning but coming out like a desperate plea. You shouldn’t be touching him like this, not because it was what your families required of you. You should only do it because you wanted to. So he knew he had to stop you before it went too far, before he wouldn’t be able to refuse, before his body was set ablaze by his repressed lust for yours otherwise, there would be no way of stopping him anymore. He would consume you. Worship you. Devour you. And his promise to never disrespect you would be just a distant memory already, because none of the things he wanted to do to you were respectable.

But you weren’t making it easy for him to keep his word. Your hand was still tracing the lines of his chest like he was some kind of sculpture you were admiring, taking in every detail like he would. And when you moved to sit on his lap, straddling him and trapping him between you and the bed, he tensed up and groaned.

He brought his hands to your hips, telling himself that he’d gently guide you off of him so that he’d be able to remain a gentleman and not take advantage of the admirable loyalty you had for your family with your determination to complete your marital duties right away, but when he felt nothing but your warm skin under his fingers, when you leaned forward to press your naked chest against his and plant another soft kiss on his lips, the remaining of his will power to resist you dissolved.

“We shouldn’t be doing this, we’re friends.” He said, because that was what he usually told himself whenever he thought about you while rubbing himself in the shower. Except he wasn’t the one gripping on his erection this time. You had easily opened up his pants and now the evidence of his desire for you was held tightly in your hand. Your thumb stroked the tip of his erection, spreading the clear drop of precum that had escaped from it over the sensitive pink skin.

“We’re not friends anymore, Ominis. We’re married.” You corrected him, your words destroying the only argument he had to convince himself to not behave like some kind of wild animal as he couldn’t seem to stop his hands from exploring your naked body. “I wasn’t allowed to organize my wedding, chose my dress or invite my friends… Don’t rob me from having a beautiful wedding night. Please.”

His erection twitched in your hand. You were asking so nicely, so politely, for something so intense and passionate, it made him even harder. He put his arm around your waist, securely holding you as he removed you from his lap and laid you down on his bed with a strength you never expected him to have.

“Are you sure this is what you want ?” He inquired, holding himself above you with his hands gripping the headboard, his pants and underwear down to his knees.

“Absolutely.” You confirmed, with a shudder of excitement.

“Very well.” His voice was low, revealing just how badly he wanted this too. He placed a hand on your knee and followed the path all the way up to your core. He could feel the wetness and warmth coming from your center, begging for his attention. He traced the slit between your legs a few times, making you gasp with anticipation. Then, he pushed a finger passed your entrance, your whimper resounding in his ears. He moved his hand in a back and forth motion, not really aiming to pleasure you this way but trying to memorize a path he couldn’t see.

He took his finger out, bringing his hand back to his impatient cock. He wiped your wetness over his tip, mixing it with the fresh drops of precum that coated his skin. Once most of his hard length was slick and sticky, he brought his tip exactly where his finger had been, rubbing it between your wet folds to gather even more moisture before finally pushing it inside you. He heard you gasp loudly and he did too, the tightness of your cunt taking him by surprise.

He easlily managed to slide even deeper, burying his entire length inside of you with a satisfied sigh. He could hear your panting breaths, your soft cries in reaction to his movements inside you and the way you moaned his name, encouraging him to rock his hips against yours a few times.

It was nothing like he had thought it would be. His hand had never made him feel as good as you did, your warmth, wetness and tightness around him were intoxicating. The most wonderful thing he had ever experienced.

He slowly pulled himself almost all the way out, only to shove himself back in with more force. He could feel his tip hitting deep inside you, pleasure building in his abdomen with each of his quick pushes.

The sounds you made were music to his ears, the way you reacted to each of his thrusts was delightful, better than what he had imagined in his most vivid fantasies. He never expected you to be so loud, perfectly showing him how good he was making you feel. He increased his speed and you moaned even louder, practically crying out his name.

He felt your legs closing around his waist, keeping him close while your nails dug into his back, the whole bed shaking in rythym with his movements. Was he too rough ? How could he not be ? It was impossible to be more gentle when the pleasure he felt with each thrust kept intensifying, he was going to lose his mind, chasing the feeling, building it up until he couldn’t take it anymore.

You cried out one more time and your body tensed up, tightening around him so viciously that he finally reached his climax, instantly filling you up with his release. You kept your legs around him, your body spasming with intense pleasure as he struggled to catch his breath for a moment, his thoughts slowly coming back into order.

He waited until your body stopped twitching to remove himself, feeling your shudder as he pulled his spent erection out of you. You still were softly panting, your chest rising and falling under his hand while the other still clasped tightly the headboard. He leaned over, easily finding your lips from which breathless gasps still escaped. He kissed you, gently, as a way to apologize for losing control of himself and felt relieved when you returned his kiss even more fervently.

He moved to his side, lying down next to you to give you enough space to catch your breath but you inched closer, nuzzling your naked body against his in a cuddle that felt even more intimate than what he had just did to you.

“Thank you.” You said softly, sounding truly happy. Ominis smiled, his fingers absently caressing your back, playing with strands of your now messy hair. “I’m glad to have you as my husband.”

Husband. The word turned in his head, reminding him that you now were officially a couple. Mrs Ominis Gaunt; his best friend, his wife, his lover… His.

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unearthly-doting · 8 months ago

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finding their soulmate: genshin edition.

a/n: i haven't made a post here in a hot second and i honestly apologize about that lol. the motivation to write just hasn't been there but!! here's a small lil genshin post for now. i just spun a wheel to pick who i write but if u want me to write for some of the others then just lmk!!

includes: xiao, kaeya, kujou sara, albedo, tartaglia, and ayato.

warnings: mdni, yandere content, not edited, gn reader, kidnapping, forced relationships, arranged marriage, manipulation, reader injury in both kujou sara's, albedo's and tartaglia's parts, childe stabs you :peace sign:, canon is a very vague concept in my writing more often than not btw, this is kinda cringey </3, the yandere content in albedo's part is actually very mild bc i was restraining myself bc there was a lot i wanted to do w it.

XIAO — never really cared much about finding his soulmate. His entire existence was dedicated to protecting Liyue, even if the nation no longer needed his protection. Besides, with how long he's been around, he just assumed his soulmate was long dead and that he'd never meet them. Though, a small part of him wondered... what was his soulmate like?

And, almost as if the universe had been listening, he ends up meeting you. His soulmate. It wasn't a classic, romantic meeting. He didn't save your life or anything like that. You were just a traveler who decided to stay at the inn.

He didn't think much of you until his eyes met yours and suddenly color was flooding into his world. It made him dizzy, and it stunned him into absolute silence because all he could so was stare at you with wide eyes.

You were clearly going through it as well, because obviously. You just met your fucking soulmate on a damn business trip. What the hell were you supposed to do now? It would be awkward to just... ignore what had happened, right? I mean, he's staring right at you and this was all just very overwhelming.

It was an awkward first meeting, that's for sure.

But during your time at the inn, whenever you were free from work, you spent it with Xiao. He was closed off, clearly keeping his guard up and not letting you get too close. You didn't know the reasons, but you didn't expect him to tell you his entire life story just because you two were apparently bound by the universe.

Honestly, you just assumed he didn't want to be with his soulmate. This didn't upset you. It wouldn't work out, anyway. You're only staying for a few weeks before heading home.

But archons, did Xiao want you. Behind his typical, distant behavior, Xiao was taking note of everything about you. Your interests, your habits, your sleep schedule, your favorite foods and desserts... everything you told him or subconsciously revealed, Xiao was tucking it away in his mind.

He wanted you. He wanted you to stay here, in Liyue, with him. Where you belong. But he didn't know how to express that. He's never been in love before, and it's not like he'll just suddenly become an expert at romance after meeting you.

When it was time for you to leave, he was crushed. He needed you to stay. He needed you by his side. Letters wouldn't be enough to fill the emptiness in your wake if you left. You had to stay.

You will stay.

And when you wake up to find yourself no longer in the inn, and instead in some small home deep within the mountains of Liyue, you're distraught.

Xiao looks genuinely guilty, robbing you of your freedom but... you understand, don't you? You have to understand. He just couldn't let you go. You're his soulmate, you were destined to be with him! You'll love it here, he'll make sure of it.

Just stay.

KAEYA — had always wondered what his soulmate was like ever since he was a child. He would spend hours just staring at the small crescent moon forever stained on his wrist, wondering if and when he'll meet the person with a matching mark.

Of course, as he got older he spent less time thinking about such things, though he did always hold out hope that he might be able to one day meet his soulmate. Little did he know, he's met his soulmate already. Multiple times.

You took over Sara's shifts at the Good Hunter whenever she had other things she needed to focus on, so Kaeya has spoken with you on numerous occasions, he's just never realized you were his soulmate because you keep your wrists covered. He's not one to judge, his wrists aren't visible either.

Him finding out was an accident. You had been handing him his order when your sleeves rolled up a bit, and his gaze just so happened to look at your wrists and he saw the very same crescent moon that was on his.

And for a moment, he froze. He just stared. Long enough that you were starting to feel a little uncomfortable. But before you could awkwardly send him on his way, he was showing you the crescent moon on his wrist as well and thus began your love story.

Or... well... it's what Kaeya had hoped for, but you didn't seem interested in soulmates at all. You didn't want the universe to decide who you were meant to be with, you wanted to make that decision yourself, so you had, to put it simply, bluntly rejected him.

And he gets it! It hurts, sure. He spent his entire life dreaming of this day, and it's not turning out the way he had hoped, but... you guys can be friends, at least, right? No strings attached?

For a while, Kaeya was fine with that. You and he had a really strong friendship. He cared about you, and you cared about him. Though your feelings were platonic, he was holding on to the hope that maybe one day, you'll realize you two were meant to be together.

But it was starting to seem as though that day might never come, because almost a year into your friendship with him, you had told Kaeya that you were thinking about entering the dating scene. He was... not too pleased about that, honestly. It was pretty obvious too, the way his entire mood soured the moment you brought the topic up.

He didn't stand by idly while this happened. Any person he saw you chatting up with romantic intentions would suddenly avoid you like the plague the next time you saw them. Any blind dates would end with you being ghosted. Hell, even some of your friends, the ones who were helping you get dates, were starting to avoid you too. It was so confusing.

But not Kaeya. No, Kaeya was always by your side.

Whenever you needed him, he was there. He always seemed to be able to make time for you. He listened to you vent your frustrations out, never once judging you or telling you that you were being dramatic. He was the only constant in your life these days.

Of course, you were completely oblivious to the fact that he was the cause of all of this. It's not that hard to blackmail people, he's learned. But they didn't deserve you anyway, seeing how easily they gave up on you the moment he approached them.

Maybe... maybe dating Kaeya wouldn't be so bad... I mean, you're the one deciding this, right? The universe isn't having any play in it. This is your decision. Isn't it?

KUJOU SARA — never cared about her soulmate. She knew she had one, you were in every dream she had. She found it to be more of a nuisance than anything else.

Her entire life was dedicated to her training, and to the Raiden Shogun. She neither had the time, nor the interest in searching for her soulmate. Besides, it didn't seem as if you resided in Inazuma. Your clothing was similar what people in Fontaine wear, and Fontaine was far away from Inazuma.

She was confident that she wouldn't be meeting you any time soon, so she never gave you any thought when she was awake. She never made any plans on what she would do if she did, by any chance, meet you. It didn't matter.

And she can't help but regret that, now that you're standing in front of her. If she had known that meeting her soulmate would make her feel like this, as if everything in the world suddenly made sense, then... well... she doesn't know what she would've done, to be honest.

No matter, Sara had no time to entertain you. Your stay in Inazuma was only temporary, so she saw no point in trying to form a bond with you. You, however, seemed to have different plans. She was used to seeing you in her dreams every night, but she was not used to seeing you in her waking moments.

Whenever she wasn't preoccupied with something, you were there to offer her company. It was annoying, and she's sent you away more than once, but that didn't seem to deter you. If anything, you seemed to become more determined each time she brushed you off.

At some point, she had given up on avoiding you. It was easier to just let you stick around. And, the more time she spent with you, the more attached she was becoming. It wasn't smart, she knew that, but could you blame her? You're so... irrevocably you.

Her fondness for you didn't go unnoticed.

Many people in Inazuma treated you with the same respect they treated Sara. You were her soulmate, after all. Should someone insult you, they would in turn be insulting her. Nobody wanted to get on her bad side.

There were, however, a few bad apples.

It should come as no surprise that a target was placed on your back the moment people took notice of Sara's attachment to you. She didn't think she'd have to worry much, because no one would be idiotic enough to actually try and harm you under her watch, but she should've known better.

It happened a few days before you were set to leave Inazuma to return home. A disturbance was going on within the city so Sara wasn't with you when you went on your daily walk just outside of it. It was supposed to be safe, but it wasn't.

Some vagrants had got the jump on you, and you nearly lost your life. You were lucky enough to have been found by some bystanders, but Sara was less than pleased when she heard about this. She had never taken pleasure in killing anyone before, but there was a deep-rooted sense of satisfaction deep within her chest when she watched the lives of those who hurt you fade away.

And as she sat by your side, waiting for you to wake up, she came to a decision. You can't be alone. If you are, you'll get hurt, and she won't be able to protect you. She can't let you leave Inazuma. She knows you'll more than likely hate her for making this decision for you, but if it means she can keep you safe, keep you alive and by her side, then... that hatred is something she'll be willing to bear.

ALBEDO — doesn't have a soulmate. At least, he's not supposed to. He's an artificial being, so it wouldn't make sense for him to have a soulmate. Of course, he does find the concept of soulmates to be intriguing. Who, or what, decides who people are destined to be with? It's a question he hopes to find an answer to.

So he wasn't surprised when he found you passed out in the snow, deep within Dragonspine. He's seen this countless times before, travelers who don't take precautions before trying to brave the deadly cold that comes with being here. He assumed he would just nurse you back to health and you would go on your merry way.

That changed, however, when he was cleaning your wounds and he saw his name inked on your skin, right on your collarbone. In his handwriting, at that. It confused him, because... that would mean that he's your soulmate. But he can't be. And yet, it didn't come off when he tried wiping it off. It was a part of your skin.

This left him with many questions, though none of them got answered when you woke up. You couldn't remember much about yourself, other than your name and a few other details. You didn't even know why you were in Dragonspine, or where you were from. You did hit your head pretty badly, judging from the headwound, so that would explain the amnesia, though he's not sure if it was going to be something temporary or not.

You both decided it would be best to just have you stay here until you were able to recover some of your memories and although Albedo wasn't eager to make friends with you, he was grateful for the company. He was incredibly patient with you too, answering any questions you may have had ranging from a multitude of different topics.

And in return, you helped out as much as you could without overexerting yourself and making your injuries worse. You'd make sure to keep his little lab tidy when he was away. You'd help out with some of his experiments too, if he knew you wouldn't get hurt doing so.

All while trying to figure out how he could possibly be your soulmate. He checked over himself. Four times. Your name was nowhere on his body. So why? Why was his name on yours? As much as he hates to admit it, he thinks he may never get an answer to this mystery.

Though... that's not such a bad thing, he thinks. He finds himself enjoying your company more and more with each passing day, the whole soulmate thing rarely even crossed his mind. At least, until you had asked him why his name was permanently etched into your skin. It was fairly easy to explain everything to you, though he was unable to answer a few of your questions, sadly. Soulmates were still a mystery, after all.

And when you asked if you could write your name on him so you two could match, he found himself unable to say no. He found himself unable to speak at all, actually, as you wrote your name on his shoulder. You even added a little heart next to it.

But no, Albedo was too busy coming to terms with the feelings he has for you. They weren't new. He's been aware of them for a week or so now, he just never gave it much thought until now. Now, with you so close to him, it was simply impossible to ignore.

And once you pull away, you smile at him and say, "There! Now I'm your soulmate too, right?" And oh.

Oh.

There was no way Albedo was going to let you leave Dragonspine now.

TARTAGLIA — feels a little bad for his soulmate, whoever they are. They can feel his pain, and he can feel theirs. So... they probably hate his guts, considering he's not the most careful person in the world. He pushes himself to his limits and beyond, and his soulmate has no doubt felt every single second of it.

Don't get him wrong, he would love to meet his soulmate. It's been a dream of his since he was a child, always eager to hear the story of how his mom and dad found out they were soulmates. Even as he grew older, the desire never went away. It was just... buried.

And his soulmate just so happened to be you, the significant other of a man who owed the Northland Bank a lot of money. He doesn't normally partake in debt collections, but he didn't have anything better to do so he decided to take this one on. He was going to use you as an example to your husband, though the moment his blade stabbed you, he froze.

He felt the pain. He stabbed you, and he could feel it. Oh fuck, he just stabbed his soulmate. That's definitely not the picturesque first meeting he was hoping for. Probably wouldn't be a good idea to tell his family this either...

Stabbing aside, he was utterly delighted. You, on the other hand, were terrified. Not only did this man just fucking stab you, his expression went from bored to something akin to crazed glee. He stared at you with a hunger that made you want to shy away from his gaze.

He doesn't care that you're already in a relationship with someone else. Not anymore, you're not. You're his, destined by the stars or however the story goes. And if your lover tries to get you back, he'll just kill them. Easy as that. Absolutely nothing will get in the way of him having you.

And he likes that you fight back against him. He especially loves it when you manage to escape. Hell, sometimes he'll even let you go just so he can chase you down again. It sends a thrill through him like no other when he catches you, and you stare at him teary-eyed and out of breath.

You're always so scared that he'll hurt you, but he would never do such a thing. He treats you like you're royalty, spoiling you with a seemingly endless amount of gifts. You're not quite sure how he knows what you like, and you're too hesitant to ask.

Honestly... he'd probably let you stab him. Y'know, he stabbed you, so it's only fair that you get to stab him in turn, right?

You think not. You're very hesitant, staring at him as though he were insane for even proposing such an idea. A part of him was disappointed. He wanted one of the many scars on his body to be from you. But a much larger part can't help but go soft at the sight of you shaking your head, sternly refusing to hurt him.

If he wasn't obsessed with you before, he certainly was now. You're too good. Too kind. He's holding you captive (lovingly, of course) and you refuse to hurt him? You don't even want to pinch him? How adorable.

Why, if he didn't know any better, he'd think that you might care about him.

He was nothing if not stubborn, of course. You might not care about him now, but you will in the future. He'll make sure of it.

After all, he's spent his whole life waiting for you.

AYATO — never had the time to think of his soulmate. He was blessed (or cursed, depending on who you ask) with the ability to see the red strings that tied people together. When he was younger, before having to take on the duties of the Kamisato name, he would always stare at the one tied to his pinkie.

He even has the habit of twirling the red string around his finger whenever he gets stressed. Only behind closed doors, of course. It would probably appear strange to others if they saw.

Meeting his soulmate was something he had always planned out in his head as a child, and when he finally did meet you, it was so... simple. There was nothing magical about it, you had just bumped into him one day when he was out in the city and that's what started all of this.

For you, it was a forgettable encounter, one that would never cross your mind again. For him, it was everything he had been waiting for. Thoma thought it was a bit strange, but he dutifully gathered information about you when Ayato asked it of him. He needed to know everything there was to know about you.

He already knew what he was going to do when he met his soulmate, the only thing left was to actually do it. And you were definitely shocked when Kamisato Ayato himself showed up at your home and asked you to marry him.

You said no, obviously, because why the hell would you agree to marry someone you didn't know? Ayato had planned for this, of course. That's why he had Thoma learn everything about you, so the moment you declined his offer, he just smiled and made a comment about your family. It was very obvious what he was implying.

And even if you aren't close with your family, you can't live with blood on your hands. You were pretty much forced into accepting Ayato's marriage proposal. He was pleased with this outcome, promising to take care of everything himself.

Marrying him meant that you would, unfortunately, have to leave your home and instead live at the Kamisato Estate. Everyone was under the impression that this marriage was one of love and not coercion. You highly doubt that anyone would believe you if you told them the truth, and you were too concerned about what the consequences would be if you did.

Everyone at the estate was nice to you, at least, though the only people allowed to actually get close to you were Ayaka and Thoma.

And when the wedding was over, it was time for your honeymoon. You were not excited about that, but it seemed Celestia itself was on your side during that time because he was too busy to spend time with you.

If he wasn't threatening the lives of your family, you would have made numerous escape attempts by now. Still, you've made it very clear that you hate his guts.

Your hatred is something he detests, though he can't fault you for it. He understands that what he's forced you into is wrong, but in his mind, it was something that had to be done. He's sure that given enough time and space, you'll grow to understand why he did what he did.

And even though you scorn his existence, Ayato looks at you as if you've placed the stars in the sky.

Your strings are forever tied together, so there's no getting out of this. He doesn't plan on ever letting you go. He'd be a terrible husband if he didn't keep you close, wouldn't he?

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lunarw0rks · 1 year ago

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I feel like Graves would end up with a really soft and innocent s/o just because he loves being the 'strong man' lol and even though they're maybe even smaller than him all sweet and shy- he is absolutely whipped for them! Especially if they can cook and be a lil housemaker for him??

♡♡♡ warning(s): nsfw + sfw, fem!reader

─── graves and his homemaker s/o ❤︎₊ ⊹

there's no one on earth more loved and adored by him, despite the stigma surrounding the dynamic you two have. he doesn't pay any mind to their judgements. in his heart, he knows how tender he is with you behind closed doors. and in yours, he hopes.

you never pictured it to end up this way. before, you were like any adult. busting your ass at work, ending each week exhausted and struggling to buy yourself groceries.

and then you met him. chivalrous and borderline self-obsessed. but you weren't being patronized when he acted with traditional courtesy. you weren't a body to be claimed or a trophy to hang on his arm.

you were merely his. all his within months of meeting, and that meant you were to be taken care of. spoiled rotten, some would say. what better way to have it? compared to your old life of hardship, it was paradise.

everything paid for, without a second of hesitation. what little savings you had idle in your bank account, untouched when he's around.

he can and will take care of you — in every way. it's in graves' nature to provide.

no different than he does for his men, only you've been appointed the privilege of seeing the gentler side of him, when the uniform of a commander is rid of his scarred body.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈nsfw under the cut!

˖⁺｡˚⋆˙˖⁺₊˚⊹♡ it's only fair, to be taken care of in every way possible. you've been so good to him, so good for him, right? there's no quicker way to his heart, than someone who enjoys being smothered with his praise.

what better sight, than opening the door and seeing you concerning with such trivial things. he spent the day making life or death decisions, and you're there; concerned with which centerpiece looks best on the dining table. some men would see it as a means for competition, or a degrade — but graves finds it irresistible.

the house smells divine; your scented candles, the fragrance you spritz, and whatever you have baking in the oven. he can practically feel the tension leave his shoulders, how his senses come alive when greeted with the comfort of your shared home.

you've dressed nice for him again, though he always gave no pressure for you to do so. clothes to match the summer heat, hair styled and pinned back to stay out of the way.

you, in your domestic, relaxed state — the one thing better than all the trivial pleasures in life, better than the house you were both standing in.

though you usual greet him, you're immersed in the centerpiece debate. you hold the two pieces up to him, "do you think I should go with the silver candle candleholders? or how about the brass ones?" it's a genuine question, but it's only met with an amused scoff — a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

graves sets aside his luggage, stepping closer to you and your very concentrated gaze. "why do you ask me, sweetheart? it's up to you. and if you don't like 'em, we'll go buy more." he examines the decor in your hands briefly, but his eyes end up back on you permanently.

"just want it to look nice in here," you sigh at his dismissal, turning away to resume contemplation. "we have that supper planned in a few weeks, don't we?" you add, setting the options back on the oak table.

as if the place could be more meticulously decorated. there was barely a trace of him in this house, except for his nightstand and office. you had free reign to adjust the home to your taste, considering you were the one who spent most of your time there.

a gentle chuckle rang from him, followed by a click of his tongue, "don't think it can get much nicer in here, darlin'. i reckon you've left a touch on just about every inch of place, haven't you?" you shoot a flustered look, even though his words are truthful.

it was a silly dilemma, considering not a soul would be criticizing your centerpiece decision. "oh, c'mon, don't do that face... my guys will eat anything you slide in front of them, you know that? could host the damn supper in the closet and you'd charm the daylights out of 'em." he says, soothing every worry down to a simmer rather than a hard boil.

he's definitely good at shutting you up. only, in the most embellished of ways. without fail, a charmed smile spread on your face — as did a surge of warmth. graves cupped one of your cheeks, running his thumb along it, "see? much better than a scowl. now, tell me, what's cooking?"

"you know the rules. i can't tell you until the timer beeps. besides, it's supposed to be a surprise." you replied, making a meek escape from his gentle grasp. displayed on the small screen; eight minutes remained.

with a hasty yank and then a stumble on your end, your back was against his chest. "i don't like surprises, do i?" you felt the sensation of his teeth nibbling along the side of your neck, all in the midst of his patterned kisses. when he was this close, he got deep whiffs of your intoxicating perfume, the freshly shampooed hair on your head, the detergent you insisted he buy. heart-stopping — like it was every time he pulled you close.

it was true, he hated them. the tickle of his lips made you squirm — a futile attempt to slip away and leave him hanging. that never worked, and you knew it. "we're down to five, time's a-wastin'."

somehow, someway, neither of you made it up the stairs this time. all he did to prepare was send the stacks of mail flying from the island; the one you found yourself sitting on. graves stood between your legs, his caressing fingers your means of preparation. though, by the times your legs were exposed to the breeze — you and your body were eager enough for him.

the minutes decreased no matter how hurriedly he moved, and he always stuck to his rules. if there was a time limit, he'd get it done before zero.

"been thinking about you all day," he breathes. "by the looks of it, you have too, sweetheart." his tip prodded at your slick entrance, while the other hand hooked around your thigh to keep it hiked up with ease. wasn't the first time he ravished you on the kitchen counters, it certainly wouldn't be the last. slowly at first, then all at once — he thrusted inside of you.

once he got situated, there was no stopping him. every rock of his hips was purposeful and deep, yet his kisses remained delicate and tender. your moans muffled against his mouth, his lips pinkish and coated with saliva as it roamed your warmed face.

soon, your back was flat against the island with your legs still hanging off and in his grip. with every methodical movement, your walls tightened around his length and edged him closer to a finish. by now, you were certain your appearance was faulty; either ruined by sweat or the constant hands graves had on you.

despite being close within the first few minutes, he had gotten carried away ogling you. your gasps, your squinted eyes, the teeth indents on your bottom lip from how harshly you sunk into it. however, now there wasn't any restraint left in him. the tight coil in his abdomen begged for release, no matter how much stamina that remained in his body.

as the clock struck zero, he bottomed out with the force of his whole body — spilling every last drop inside of you. the oven beeped three times, as if on cue.

a string of curses against your lips as he leaned down to kiss you, sneaking in a few sloppy thrusts afterward. "i'll make it up to you later, make it worth your while." he pecked along your jaw, adjusting the strap of your top that had slid down your arm.

"it was worth my while." you replied between catching your breath, voice still quivering slightly.

he chuckled, fingers still playing with the fabric, "so, what's cooking? have i earned my right to know?" he was right; you always told him once the meal was ready, and that's what it was right now. the aroma hit your nostrils, as intoxicating as he found yours.

your eyes flicked over to the digital screen, still flashing and urging you to remove the pan, then it beeped for a second round as a reminder. "just a roast your mom taught me. thought you would've recognized the smell by now." you uttered, tracing your fingers along his blond stubble.

"hm, something must've distracted me, darlin'," he ran a tongue along his bottom lip, now gazing with admiration rather than hunger.

then, his brow raised with interest. both in humor and intense dread he added, "you've been calling my mother?"

#mw2 #call of duty #task force 141 #phillip graves #phillip graves x reader #phillip graves smut #phillip graves cod #graves x you #graves smut #graves x reader #graves headcanons #commander graves #shadow company #task force 141 x reader #141 headcanons #cod headcanons #philip graves

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ckret2 · 4 months ago

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Chapter 60 of human Bill Cipher almost wasn't the Mystery Shack's prisoner but he's back here for some reason:

Everything you never even imagined about how Bill survived his execution.

(warning for cultists doing cultish activities in this chapter. and i don't mean "fantastical Blind Eye Society hijinks," i mean "discussing how to indoctrinate & isolate new recruits.)

####

"Hiya, Stan!" Bill Cipher beamed brilliantly. His gold tooth matched his new coat. "Didja miss me yet?"

Stan punched Bill in the nose.

Bill tumbled on his back, hand over his face. Voice tight with pain, he said, "Just so you know, I let you do that."

Stan's voice hit a pitch he hadn't been able to reach since puberty. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING ALIVE!"

Bill sat up gingerly. "Well, funny story—"

"NO! Nuh-uh, I'm finishing you properly this time!" Fists raised, Stan lunged at Bill.

Ford grabbed Stan from behind, one arm around his neck and one hooked up under his armpit. (Bill took the opportunity to scoot backward and get to his feet.) "Stanley! Stand down!"

"YOU!" Stan flung Ford's hands off and whirled around, pointing accusatorially at him. "You gave me your word! Tell me you didn't let Bill out."

"I didn't let Bill out."

Stan grabbed Ford's turtleneck. "Don't you lie to me!"

"I didn't let Bill out!" Ford ripped Stan's hands off his turtleneck. "He was already gone when I went into the kids' room."

"Then who— Who else would've known—"

Stan whirled around at a creak on the stairs. Dipper, halfway down the stairs, jumped when Stan saw him.

"DIPPER!" Stan stormed up to the stairs. "Did you help the demon escape?!"

"What, no!" Dipper took a step back up. "I don't even know how he got out! All I did was not say anything!"

"Well, who's left that could've helped him?!"

"BIIILL!" Mabel barreled down the stairs. "YOU CAME BACK!" She climbed on the stair railing, jumped off, and Bill—who'd crept inside behind Stan—was once more tackled to the ground.

Stan's hands twisted in the air like he wasn't sure whether he wanted to strangle someone, punch something, or pull out his own hair. He finally settled on curling them into fists and shaking them at God. "AM I THE ONLY ONE WHO DIDN'T KNOW THE DEMON'S ALIVE?!"

Soos, still sitting in the living room by himself, staring into space, voice hushed with horror, asked, "So who did I sweep into the flower vase..."

"Okay, family meeting!" Stan pointed at the living room, "Right now! You," he pointed at Bill, "upstairs! I don't wanna look at you and your—your stupid Las Vegas magician sequined coat!"

Bill sat up with a wince and grinned, "Oh, do you like it?" He took off his backpack and checked to see if its contents had been crushed when he was knocked down twice.

"You look like a circus clown!"

"I liked the Vegas magician thing better."

"GO!" Stan pointed up the stairs.

Bill raised his hands, rolling his eye as he started up the stairs. "Fine, fine—"

Stan grabbed Bill's wrist, making him drop his backpack. "STOP!"

"Make up your mind!"

Stan yanked one half of the enchanted friendship bracelets down over Bill's wrist. "You're not getting out again. Not on my watch."

Bill jerked his arm free, shot Stan a dirty look, and stomped up the stairs, umbrella clutched angrily in one hand and backpack in the other. Stan pulled the other half of the bracelet on.

In the living room, Ford, Dipper, and Mabel were lined up shamefacedly on the couch, like three students waiting to be lectured by the principal. Stan glowered at them each, fists on his hips. "Now, I wanna know why my own family all joined in some big secret conspiracy to help Cipher escape! Is it alien mind control?! Did you join a cult?!"

Mabel took a deep breath. "I saved him because he's my friend and I don't want him to die and he really is getting better and you'd all see it if you just gave him a chance to prove it and you just don't understand how he thinks like I do"—she took another breath—"and I promise he won't try to take over the world again just give him a chance!"

Stan's glare melted into something close to guilt. "You're... you're fine, pumpkin. I know you wouldn't have let your friend get hurt." He shot a glare at the other two conspirators. "Which is why we weren't going to tell her."

"Listen," Dipper said, "I still hate him and I don't trust him, but—but I heard part of a poem about Bill that I'm sure is a prophecy; which means he's important, we'll probably need him to save the town or something! So we can't let him die before then! He's already passed up chances to kill us and even saved Grunkle Ford and me, that proves he can restrain himself enough to be useful!" He winced, "Plus... I didn't wanna make Mabel sad. I have seen a future where she loses a friend, and it is not pretty."

Mabel leaned against Dipper. "Thanks, bro-bro."

Stan screwed up his face, but just muttered angrily under his breath about stupid prophecies and stupid life saving, and turned his glare on Ford. "Well? What's your excuse?"

Ford didn't answer, staring down at his hands, grimacing as he searched for an answer.

Stan pressed, "You told me that if you couldn't pull the trigger, you'd give me the gun. Why didn't you?"

"Because I could have pulled it! The situation was different, I—I only changed my mind because he wasn't there. If he had been, I'd have done it—"

"Would you? If you couldn't even tell me that he wasn't dead, do you really think that if he'd been right there, looking you in the eyes, you'd have done it?"

In his mind's eye, Ford could see Bill, hiding under a towel, grinning up at him with one bright eye. And Bill, collapsed beside the lake, shaking all over, sobbing so hard he didn't even notice he was clinging to Ford's stupid borrowed t-shirt like a lifeline. And Bill, staring tiredly across a chess board, telling Ford that the black king was taking the whole board down with him. And Bill, lighting up the room as he taught Ford's niece about his own long-extinct alien civilization.

And Bill, glowing golden, lighting up Ford's dream as he taught him about fifth-dimensional calculus.

Ford didn't answer.

Stan asked, "Why didn't you tell me?"

Softly, Ford said, "Because I don't want him to die."

Stan spread his arms in disbelief. "Well, why the hell not?!"

"Because—I'm—beginning to think that there might be a chance that Bill could..." he winced, "change. Maybe."

Stan's silence was deafening. Mabel leaned forward to stare around Dipper at Ford.

Ford rubbed his forehead. "I—it made sense yesterday, but it sounds stupid out loud."

Stan slowly shook his head. "Have you all lost your minds? You think he can change? You think he's part of some prophecy?! Y—Mabel, honey, you're the sweetest girl in the world, but you could do way better for friends than him."

Mabel sorta shrugged, sorta shook her head, sorta grimaced, and sorta nodded. "Yeah, but, I like him."

"WHY?!" Stan roared, making Mabel and Dipper both jump. "Why, why are any of you wasting your time on him?! Guys like him don't change! He's a dangerous, self-centered crook, and that's all he'll ever be. He's a rotten, greedy, lazy loser, he's only gotten as far as he has by conning guys smarter than him, he's got no regard for anybody but himself, all he does is cheat and lie, and if you let him stay in our lives he'll just ruin them! The best thing he could do for our family is—" Stan choked on a lump in his throat. "Is d-die."

The room was silent. Dipper and Mabel, leaning back into the sofa to get away from the rant, stared at him with wide eyes. Soos, over in an armchair bearing silent witness to this family drama, had his hands steepled in front of his face.

Stan couldn't look at Ford. He didn't know why Ford looked so sorrowful. Thickly, Stan asked, "All I want is to get rid of him—why don't you?"

He could hear Soos wince. "Oof."

Stan pointed at him. "Not a word. Not one word," he growled. "Fine—if none of you will deal with him properly," he cracked his knuckles, "I will."

Mabel flinched. Dipper moved to stand, "Grunkle Stan—" but stopped when Ford put a hand on his shoulder.

Stan stomped up the stairs. He'd wring that monster's stupid neck, and if it started the apocalypse then so be it—

He stopped halfway up the stairs. Bill was sitting on the steps, just around the landing corner, leaning against the wall, backpack in his lap. His soaked pant legs were dripping rainwater on the steps. "You," Stan snarled. "What are you doing?"

"What's it look like, genius? I'm trying to eavesdrop," Bill said. "So what'd they say?"

"What? What did who say about what?"

"About leaving me alive. Why did they say they don't want me dead?"

He asked like he was genuinely curious. Like he didn't know.

Stan stared at Bill.

"I have a good idea for Shooting Star, but the other two...?" Bill made an uncertain gesture with his hand. "I've got my top guesses, but I want to know what clinched the deal."

Stan couldn't kill him, either.

He'd already lost this fight. Pathetic lonely dead con artist who'd rather lose a tooth than look scared, how could Stan take him out? He understood too well. "Just—shut your stupid mouth, take off that stupid circus outfit, and get out of my sight, Cipher."

Bill bristled. "Hey." He stood. "What's that for? It's not like I did anything wrong. Sure, I got your whole family in on a conspiracy, but that's their mistake! I was just doing what I had to! You can't blame me for—"

"I don't blame you," Stan said.

"You d— You don't." Cautiously, Bill asked, "You... don't?"

"How can I?" He shrugged heavily. "It was self-defense. Ford should've known better—but I can't blame you. I'm not an idiot, I don't expect you to just lay down and die for us."

"Oh." Bill squinted at Stan, like he thought this was a trick and he was waiting for the other shoe to drop. "Oh. Okay." After a pause, voice uncharacteristically small and confused, he asked, "So I'm... not in trouble?"

Stan's face did a gymnastics routine. "Heck," he muttered. "No! I guess not! I don't like it, but I'm not gonna punish a guy for saving his own miserable worthless hide! Just... stay out of my way, I don't wanna see your stupid face."

"I'm just minding my own business," Bill said. He sat again and leaned on the wall, arms crossed, staring into space thoughtfully. (He didn't know what to do with a reality where he'd done something everyone hated, but nobody blamed him for it.)

Stan trudged back downstairs. Everyone was where he'd left them. He glowered at his family. They quietly waited. "Well," Stan said. "We're stuck with him now. Since somebody wasted the only bit of fuel we had that could kill him. Is everyone happy."

Nobody seemed particularly happy. Ford shifted on his seat. "Kids... you should go to bed. Stan and I need to talk."

Dipper and Mabel quickly took the opportunity to slide off the sofa and escape the room.

"Oh! Oh you bet we need to talk! You have no idea how much we need to talk—"

"Downstairs," Ford said firmly.

"What, you don't want everyone else to hear exactly what I think of your crazy stunt?"

Ford lowered his voice. "Downstairs where he can't overhear. It's important."

Stan's face twitched with the effort of suppressing more shouting; but then he growled, "Fine! But this had better be worth it. Lemme get my bathrobe, your stupid underground office is like a freezer..." He trudged from the room, grumbling. "Hey, demon! Take off your bracelet, I'm done being tied to your sorry hide." After a moment, the thread reappeared on the stair steps as they both took their ends off.

Dipper glared at Bill as he and Mabel passed him going up the stairs. Bill gave him a tiny, cheery wave. Dipper grumbled, "I can't believe you finally escaped like you wanted just to come right back."

"Hey, it wasn't my idea! Blame your sister!"

Mabel hugged him again. "Thanks for coming back."

Bill said, "Thanks for absorbing Stan's wrath for me!" He laughed.

The kids ran upstairs.

And Bill placed the tip of his broken umbrella on the stair step and quietly walked back down, winding the enchanted bracelets' thread into loops as he went.

####

Soos looked at Ford and shyly raised a hand. "So... when you said the kids should go to bed, did that include..."

"Yes, Soos," Ford said. "You should go too."

"Yes." He quietly pumped a fist. "One of the kids." As he left, he said, "Hey, Bill. Sweet coat."

Ford looked over. Hovering in the shadows of the entryway, almost glowing gold from the living room's light, Bill peered into the room. He was by the coat rack, hanging the bracelets back up. Bill said, "Fancy meeting you here."

Ford sighed irritably. "I'm not in the mood to talk, Cipher."

"Don't flatter yourself, I'm not down here for you." Bill gestured at the sofa Ford was on. "I want my bed back."

Right. Ford stood so Bill could retrieve the cushions.

As he grabbed the first cushion, Bill smirked at Ford. "So..." (Not here for you. Sure.) "What was it that swayed you?"

Ford just glowered at Bill.

Bill pressed, "Was it that handy list of starter spells I gave you? I doubt it was my chess prowess, that wasn't my best playing." He laughed, "What am I asking for! You humans are suckers for a life debt. You can consider it paid off—a life for a life, fair and square—"

"It wasn't any of those."

Bill's smile disappeared. "Then what?" he asked. "Don't tell me you did it out of the goodness of your heart, I've seen enough of yours not to buy that—"

"It was Mabel."

Bill dropped his first cushion on top of the second and awkwardly tried to get his arms around both. "What'd she say about me?"

"Nothing." Nothing that had changed Ford's mind, anyway. "It's how you treat her."

"How I—?" Bill was so baffled that he almost looked offended. "What are you talking about? I haven't been treating her any way at all! I'm just... just goofing around with her. She's a fun kid."

"Exactly," Ford said. "If you can treat just one odd little girl with kindness, for no reason—then maybe, just maybe, there's hope for you." He sighed; he felt the sternness in his face slacken. He felt tired. "At least... I want to hope there is."

There was a flash of something Ford couldn't recognize in Bill's face. Something like pain; something nearly like guilt. It was gone almost as soon as he saw it.

"Well, sure," Bill said flatly, glancing away like Ford had lost his interest. "Why wouldn't I be nice to her? I like weird freaks." He managed to stand with his awkward armload and turned away, cutting the conversation off. "Anyway. It's been a long night. I'm going to bed. You should too," he shot back over his shoulder from the bottom of the stairs, "when's the last time you got decent sleep? Your eye bags are more... bag than... eye." Bill cringed at himself. "Don— Don't say anything. I'm tired." He headed up the stairs, his umbrella hooked over his left elbow. They'd have to get that umbrella back.

Tomorrow. Ford couldn't be bothered tonight. Bill wasn't killing anybody before morning.

Ford leaned on the doorframe where he could still see Bill. "I hid your hoodie in the box of spare bedding in the loft. Under the spare pillows."

Bill stopped halfway up the stairs and turned back toward Ford. "You didn't incinerate it?"

"No."

"Why?"

"I assumed you'd be back here eventually. I thought you'd want it."

Bill's face was unreadable.

He turned away from Ford and continued upstairs without saying a word.

Mabel's crayon drawing of Bill—"YOU CAN CHANGE. I BELIEVE IN YOU!"—felt like it was burning a hole in Ford's pocket.

####

Saturday, 7:52 a.m.

Bill stole a handful of loose change out of a tip jar and timed his exit so he walked out of the Triple Digit Truck Stop just as a man walked in and kindly held the door for him.

Gravity Falls really was a charming little town. Behind the times. The Triple Digit Truck Stop had expanded significantly in the past decades to add a convenience store and additional amenities for travelers, but the diner that made up the heart of it had barely changed. Same patchy grassy parking lot, same giant lumberjack sculpture watching over the cars... same public pay phones around the left side of the building.

He put in a few coins, punched in the number he'd memorized, and leaned against the wall while he waited to be answered. "Hey, Sue! Guess who?" A smile curled across his face. "That's right. Hey, how many people can say they've been personally called by god?" He laughed. "My Star Boy told you what preparations to make, right? Good. It's time. Midnight. Just north of the county line. I'll see you there."

Then he hung up the phone, left the clearing around the diner, and vanished into the trees.

Unless something dramatically changed, he'd be meeting his dear devotee that night.

####

9:30 p.m.

Something had dramatically changed.

His disloyal devotee had saved him.

It was a long walk to the county line. If Bill wanted to make his midnight meeting with his cultist, he had to leave before sunset.

He was still up on the cliff when the last of the light left the valley, pacing restlessly back and forth—first toward the side of the cliff overlooking the town (he could see the Mystery Shack's roof through the trees), then toward the side aimed away from the valley, toward the county line.

He should go. He needed to go. He needed to go now. He needed to go two hours ago.

He'd spent three out of the last four days hiking all over this town's forests and caves. In the last thirty-six hours he'd barely gotten a quick nap. (In the morning, when Mabel heard that Ford had covered for Bill, she'd come straight here.) He told himself he didn't have the energy for the hike to the county line. (What if Mabel got here and couldn't find him?)

If he didn't show up tonight, surely his cultist would try again tomorrow night. He'd go tomorrow.

It was fine. Everything would work out for him. Everything always worked out for him.

####

Sunday, 4:10 p.m.

He'd been right. Mabel had come straight here. As the platform lifted him back up, Bill watched her wheel her bike through the trees, slowly heading toward the main road back into town.

For a midsummer day, it was chilly in the rain.

Don't you wanna be in the shack with your only friend on Earth? Would you really rather spend the rest of summer in some dumb old busted alien ship?

Interesting question.

####

8:30 p.m.

It was a long walk to the county line. Bill packed his supplies—he didn't have that much to pack, he'd only ever needed enough food and shelter to last him a couple of days. He flung one backpack over each shoulder, closed and concealed the alien ship fragment, and shrunk his floating platform with the height-altering flashlight so he could wrap it in a shirt and stuff it in his second backpack.

And then, under the cover of the rain and the falling night, he began the hike north.

####

10:45 p.m.

Even to Bill's eyes, the weirdness barrier around Gravity Falls was typically invisible. He could only see it where something touched it or passed through it, making waves travel out in circles from the point of contact. The circles glowed a dull coppery color at their peaks. Tonight, with the rain falling, the barrier rippled as though the rain were falling on the surface of a lake, and the whole thing glowed a faint filmy orange.

Precisely in the middle of the barrier was a sign marking the border of Roadkill County.

Ten feet beyond the barrier, just off the edge of the road, headlights and engine off and lurking beneath the trees, was a black car.

Bill walked straight through the weirdness barrier as though it wasn't even there. He didn't feel a thing.

The car engine started and the headlights turned on. Bill didn't even blink. The driver's door flew open and Sue popped out, fumbling to open an umbrella as she did. "Bill Cipher?"

"Hiya, Sue! You made it early."

"Oh, thank goodness." She hurried up to him. "I was so worried—I didn't know if I'd come to the wrong place, or if something had happened... And when I didn't hear anything from you the next day, and Gideon didn't know anything..." (Great, she'd gotten Gideon involved?) She started to offer Bill her umbrella, realized he was already holding a closed umbrella as a cane, looked up as she registered that no rain was falling on him, then stared at him in wonder.

"Yeah, sorry about that—an unavoidable emergency came up, I couldn't get out and couldn't call." And he'd gotten a pretty good night's sleep. "But look at you, loyal enough to come try again the next night! You're a rare sort of human soul, you know that? This world could use more people like you."

Sue flushed with pleasure. "Oh... thank you, I..."

Bill tilted his head toward the car. "Let's not talk out in the rain, huh? Another car's coming by in about a minute, I think we shouldn't be seen."

"Right! Of course, my lord." She hurried back to the car.

"There's a terrific diner just a few minutes up the road. We can talk there, it's safe enough. Cute decor, too—have you ever seen a twenty foot tall lumberjack...?" He paused uncertainly by the car. "Hey, Sue? This'll sound silly—but I'm gonna need you to get the passenger door."

The car's interior lights flashed on as Sue opened the passenger door, long enough to catch the glittery purple nail polish on Bill's fingers. Sue gave it a curious look. Even though they'd just gotten painted three days ago, the polish was already scuffed again from his escape; but a few tiny flower stickers were still sticking to his nails.

Bill grinned. "There's a thirteen-year-old staying in the shack. Sweetest thing. She's a real artist."

"Oh! I see." A smile stretched across Sue's face. Bill suspected it wasn't for Mabel. That's right, your god's good with children. He lets little girls give him goofy manicures and proudly shows them off. Chicks dig that kind of thing.

When they were both buckled in, Sue hesitated, holding the steering wheel. "Lord Cipher... I wanted to say... if my... actions the last time we met were out of line in any way, I want to apologize—"

Bill placed a finger under her chin, turned her face toward him, and kissed her lightly. (He was so smooth. He mentally congratulated himself.) "Sorry if you got confused. I had to keep the outsider from getting suspicious, get it?"

She sucked in a small breath. "I... yes. Yes, of course."

"Don't trust anything I say or do when unbelievers are listening. The only time you can be sure I'm telling the truth..." his voice dropped to a near whisper, "is when we're alone."

He could see the goosebumps raise on her arms. "Yes, my lord."

He was so good—and his worshipers were so, so stupid. That was why they followed him. "Now, let's get to that diner, huh?"

As they got on the road, he studied his nails; to a normal human it was too dark to see, but to Bill's eyes they still glittered bright purple. The question Mabel had asked him earlier had been playing over and over in his mind all afternoon: Would you really rather spend the rest of summer in some dumb old busted alien ship?

Naive, trusting kid.

She really thought she was his best option.

######

"... And then, as if directly launching a psychic attack on my ethereal essence and forcing me into a mortal fleshly form wasn't bad enough," Bill said, "they imprisoned me! And get this: just to rub salt in the wound, they thought it would be funny to take a divine muse who's spent an eternity helping mortals build doorways between dimensions—and curse it so it can't open doors. I have to ask my kidnappers to open the fridge for me. Have you ever heard something so condescending?"

"Insane. That's just sadistic," Sue said. "After all you tried to do for them."

"You don't know what a comfort it is to hear a human say that."

They fell silent as someone approached. A waitress stopped next to their table. "Hey, I—Goldie!"

"Dani Miranda! Hey, how's it going! I see you found the treasure map I left you."

Dani was wearing two large gold earrings, two heavy gold necklaces each with a large gem-encrusted pendant, and four rings. "Yes, oh my gosh. I cannot believe you knew where a whole treasure chest was and you just gave it to me? That's the nicest thing ever?"

That's right, it was. "What are you doing working here! You can retire on that kind of money. Unless you want to rebury all that gold yourself?" He'd respect that.

"I'm still getting it appraised. Besides, I like talking to the late night travelers."

Bill ordered a strawberry banana shake, the monthly pancake special—which meant three quarters of the pile covered in stripes of strawberry sauce and cream cheese frosting and one quarter covered in a big puddle of blueberry sauce—floppy bacon, three eggs prepared "any way except scrambled," a cup of bleu cheese dressing, a cup of salsa, and a bottle of hot sauce. Sue ordered a water and a small grilled chicken salad.

(Bill tried to remember whether the Death Valley girls were one of his "purify the flesh by practicing harsh asceticism" cults or his "hedonistically revel in the pleasures of the senses" cults, in case he needed to make up a justification for why god was ordering pancakes instead of practicing what he preached—something something a human body containing a divine soul burns through much more energy, maybe—but no, he had the Death Valley girls on psychedelics, that was a hedonism cult. He kept them controlled through drugs, exhaustion, and poor air conditioning, not starvation. Small grilled chicken salad, indeed. The only thing stronger than cult brainwashing was diet industry brainwashing.)

When Dani was safely out of earshot, Sue lowered her voice and asked, "'Goldie'?"

"My captors decided to keep my identity secret so an angry mob won't execute me before they get the chance," Bill said. "The entire town's against the All-Seeing Eye named Bill; but only a handful know there's anything unusual about the handsome human in the Mystery Shack they've been calling Goldie."

She looked taken aback at the angry mob comment. "The entire town's against you?" Her gaze roved around the Triple Digit Truck Stop, taking in a lone trucker several tables away and a bored waiter scrolling on his phone behind the counter. "Is there anyone we can trust?"

"Gideon's on our side, of course—good kid—but, well... he isn't completely reliable. You know what happens with child celebrities. The fame and fortune spoils 'em a bit."

"I never would have guessed from his television appearances. He seems so... gracious."

Bill choked back a laugh. "He'll grow up all right—he's just going through a phase. But I'd rather not trust him with more involvement than necessary until he... matures a little."

"I understand." Sue sighed. "It's too bad the dawn of the new age didn't begin closer to us, where we could have assisted your work."

She didn't have the guts to question her god, but Bill heard the implicit question: why here? Why in some tiny tourist town that didn't even like tourists, buried in a forest in the middle of nowhere, amongst the ignorant ungrateful masses? "Yeah—too bad," Bill agreed with a shrug. "But hey, I didn't choose where the veil between worlds would be thinnest! There's energy in this town like nowhere else on your planet. It's the only place where a machine built with modern human technology is strong enough to punch through dimensions—and that's with the help of extraterrestrial equipment."

Besides, he didn't like Death Valley.

Dani returned from the kitchen. "One chicken salad, and one breakfast combo with the pancakes of the month."

"Great! I'm starving." Bill picked up the little plastic cup of salsa and dumped it into his shake. Sue choked on her water.

Dani's brows shot up. "Is—is that good?"

"What can I say, I've got the palate of an alien." (Sue choked on the sip she'd taken to recover from her first sip of water.) Bill poured the bleu cheese over his eggs, then started drizzling hot sauce on his pancakes. "Anyway, it keeps people from stealing my food."

"I guess so!" Dani laughed. She hovered near their table a little too long; and then she said, "Okay, I've got to ask: how did you know where to find buried treasure? I mean...!"

"I know lots of things." He fought down a smirk. "I happen to be psychic."

"No way." But she looked curious. She wanted to believe.

Bill had had a hunch that giving her that treasure would pay off. Nice to know his understanding of human nature was still sharp, even when he couldn't double-check the far future to see how his meddling would turn out. "If I wasn't psychic, would I have known your last name? Or where that treasure chest was?" he asked. "Or that you keep three pictures of tarantulas and a Canadian twenty in your wallet? Or that you have recurring dreams of trying to hide in sewer manholes from a fire-breathing dragon?" While he waited for her to process that, he triumphantly dug into his pancakes. He had a feeling he wouldn't be eating much more before his food got cold.

Dani's smile had disappeared. The blood drained from her face. "How...?"

"I'm... let's say, connected to a higher plain. I can see dimensions most humans can't."

"It's true," Sue piped up. (Bill took the opportunity to dig into an egg. Oh, the bleu cheese was a great choice.) "The insights h—she's offered me and so many others have been... life-changing. World-changing." Good girl.

"Insights?" Dani asked weakly.

Bill shrugged modestly. "You could call me a 'spiritual teacher,' I suppose, but that makes it sound like I'm preaching some kind of religion! All I do is teach people what I know and tell people what I see if I think it'll help 'em. Like if I see a bunch of buried gold that could change the life of a nice kid working minimum wage."

Dani reflexively touched one of her necklaces.

"You didn't think going to parties in togas was my full-time job, did you?" Bill laughed.

Dani laughed feebly too. She hadn't moved away. She was closer now, her thigh leaning against the edge of the table. "That's... wow. I've never met an actual psychic before. I mean—I went to one of Lil Gideon's live shows, but that was before the big scandal and his arrest."

"You hate to see a pillar of the community go down like that, don't you?"

"What..." Dani swallowed hard, lowered her voice, and asked, "What kinds of things does a psychic 'teach'?"

Got her. "It depends! Everyone's got different lessons they need to learn, right?" He slid out of his seat, nodded toward Sue, and said, "Excuse me ladies—I'd love to elaborate, but I'm afraid I need to hit the restroom. Sue, why don't you tell her what you've learned about, give her a concrete idea of what I do."

"It would be my honor."

As Bill passed Sue, he leaned over and whispered, "Don't mention triangles." And then he got out of her way, to let Sue do what his Death Valley girls did best.

####

When he returned to his seat, Sue leaned over the table and murmured, "I got her phone number and email."

"Good work. I bet she'd be an easy recruit."

"I bet. She's already asking how much lessons cost."

"What'd you say?"

"You offer your help to others for free, but cover your living expenses and travel costs with donations."

"Attagirl." It had been easier to use that line when he was a triangle—of course our great mentor and muse doesn't need money, he's above such earthly concerns; his mortal devotees who spread his word, though, subsist on donations... It was better for his image. They'd just have to modify their fundraising pitch for a while. "This is exactly what I hoped would happen when I invited you to this diner. I knew you wouldn't let me down."

The ghost of a smile flitted across Sue's face. "I'll follow up with her by phone. It's a pity we don't have enough time to really put the pressure on her in person."

"Why not? I bet we'd win her over in less than a week."

"I've already contacted the main compound in Death Valley. We've got plane tickets for first thing in the morning."

(Bill's blood ran cold. Somehow, it hadn't dawned on him until that moment that escaping Gravity Falls meant leaving Gravity Falls.)

"I have a motel room a few towns over, it was the closest I could find to Gravity Falls," Sue went on. "It's a straight shot to the Portland airport in the morning. Everyone's so excited—"

"Hold on," Bill said, figuring out what he was about to say next as he went. "There's been a last minute change of plans. I'm staying in Gravity Falls."

Sue stared at him. "But—my lord! You're a prisoner here, why wouldn't you come home to the people who love you?"

Love you, love you, love you. The word love alone was nearly enough to make him change his mind again. How he missed being revered. He could picture them now, these zealots who adored him so much they'd willingly bend their bodies into a throne to lift him up—and he didn't even need to turn them to stone first. It would be so easy to get away from all his human enemies forever...

Don't you wanna be in the shack with your only friend on Earth?

He shook his head. "Two reasons," he said. "One: no matter what, eventually I'll have to come back. The Age of the Triangle can only dawn in Gravity Falls. Staying makes it that much easier to get things started again. And two... I'm—working on a couple of potential recruits." He was? Wow. He was impressed at himself.

"You mean Gideon, or...?"

"No, others. One's the girl who helped me escape." He drummed his fingers on the table, calling attention to his purple fingernails. "She's a good kid. Lots of potential. Could be a real leader someday—she's a natural fit for our new world. She's got a few strings, but I'm working on helping her untie 'em."

Strings was a term that Mary, the leader of the Death Valley compound, had come up with and spread to the other girls: it meant petty mortal concerns that could tangle and tie you up, dragging you away from pursuing true spiritual growth and preparing for a better, liberated world. Your childhood religious beliefs were a string. The misguided ideas about morality you learned from the secular world were a string. Your job was a string. Your spouse was a string. Your family was a lot of strings. The intervention where your friends sat you down and told you they were worried about how much you'd changed lately and they were afraid you'd joined some kind of cult was a string. You had to cut them all.

And then Bill could tie on his puppet strings in their place.

"How old is she?"

"Thirteen. Fourteen at the end of the summer."

"Oh, wow—younger than I thought. That's great, kids are more open-minded," Sue said. "Though if she decides to join, it'll be hard to get her away from her family without a kidnapping charge..."

"Ugh, you don't need to remind me. I remember how we almost lost Karen and Jennifer. The legal system in this country is a mess." Bill had needed to torture that divorce court judge with nightmares for weeks before he caved and awarded Jennifer's mother sole custody so they could move to the Death Valley compound together. "But hey, got some good news: the other potential recruit. You remember the 'ex-cultist' who gave you gals my location. He turned on the humans who are pushing to execute me. He's almost back on our side. And he just so happens to be the girl's great-uncle. The family trusts him. If we can get 'em to pass her to him as her guardian, then she's ours. We can work out how to get her to the compound later." That was a lie. Bill was never handing Mabel to the Death Valley girls. She was better than them.

Sue looked less enthusiastic for this ex-cultist than she had for the girl. "Is he one of your captors...?"

Bill waved off her concerns, frowning. "Look. He's obviously been corrupted by the outside world. I lost contact with him for thirty years and he came back with more strings than a mop head. But I don't think he's beyond purification. He's already shown major improvement, now that he's once again under the shining light of my influence."

"But, this town..." Sue shook her head doubtfully. "Cipher, my lord, they nearly killed you once. You'd risk staying just to try to recruit two people? One who's already betrayed you—?"

"Yes!" Bill snapped. Sue flinched. "They're worth it." (He didn't question his own vehemence, his own anger at their value being doubted. He rarely questioned himself. If he asked questions, he might get answers.) "Don't you dare let this face fool you—I'm still your all-seeing god and I know what I'm doing better than you do. These two are perfect. The Age of the Triangle needs them. The traitor will repent. He WILL worship me again."

Sue stared at him with wide eyes; for a split second her breath froze in fear. She gave him a tiny nod. "Of course, my lord. My apologies."

Dani appeared at their table again. "Hey, how was everything?"

And Bill was immediately all good cheer. "Terrific, thanks!"

"Great!"

As Sue reached for her wallet, Dani waved her off. "Oh, don't worry about it—it's on the house." She winked. "I think I can afford to cover it."

Already making donations to the cause. Pretty soon all the profits from her treasure chest would be in one of Bill's bank accounts.

As they headed back out into the rain, Sue said, "So, we're staying in town at least long enough to pick up another three recruits?"

"Maybe four," Bill said. "There's another kid in town I think needs some help finding a direction."

"Another? Is this one old enough to leave home alone?"

"Not for a couple more years—but she's dying to get out just as fast as she can," Bill said. "I think you can handle her."

####

They parked just up the road from the Mystery Shack and turned the headlights off.

"Here's everything Gideon said you wanted," Sue said, handing over a paper bag. "Candles, matchbook, knife, pens, spare notebooks, five thousand dollars, a burner phone, new clothes..."

Bill pulled out a flashy golden sequin-covered coat. "Oooh!" He dug around until he also found a button-up shirt and a pair of black opera gloves. He shrugged on the shirt.

"That's... what Gideon said you requested, right?" Sue eyed the tacky, gaudy coat uncertainly.

"As long as I'm in this body, I don't have the benefit of showing up glowing in people's dreams when I have something they need to hear! I need to make them pay attention any way I can." Also, normal people had boring tastes and sequins were fantastic. He buttoned up the shirt.

"I also brought—I—thought you might want..." She held out a large pendant on a thin chain. It was an eye inscribed inside a triangle inscribed inside a circle; rays radiated out from the eye, as though it were the sun. Bill's heart leaped into his throat at the sight of it.

He realized this was the first time since his death that he'd seen his own face in any form other than a thirteen-year-old's artwork—and his own corpse. His face was ubiquitous on this planet; it was plastered on everything from money to buildings to common consumer goods. Its conspicuous absence in Gravity Falls was uncanny.

"I'm not sure if it's inappropriate—"

"It's perfect." Bill snatched the necklace from her and fiddled with the clasp until he got it on. "Exactly what I need. What did I always say about your intuition?" He considered the gloves, decided he wasn't ready to pull them on quite yet, and shrugged on the coat instead.

She restrained a pleased smile at the flattery. "Thank you, my lord."

She looked out the windshield. Just up the road was a flock of wooden signs and arrows pointing which way to turn to reach the Mystery Shack. Bill wondered whether Sue's eyes had adjusted enough to the dark that she could see their silhouettes. Sue said, "If you're not coming back to us yet, then I suppose it's time to..."

"Hold on a minute," Bill said. "You've been a bigger help tonight than you know. If it weren't for your loyalty and diligence, I wouldn't have been able to consider escaping." Blah blah blah. The truth was he'd been soaking in her reverence for the past hour and a half, like a dehydrated cactus under a cloudburst, and he wasn't leaving until he'd sucked every drop from her. "There isn't a lot I can do for you right now, trapped in this form, but you deserve a reward." He leaned toward her, his elbow against her car seat, hand on the headrest. "Let me express my gratitude the way I would have if we hadn't been interrupted during our last meeting." He tilted his head toward the back seat.

She froze as she processed the offer; and then she leaned in to kiss him hungrily.

####

"The tide's changing in this town," Bill said, pulling on his gloves, smoothing his hair back into place, putting his new coat back on. "The dawn is coming. You should stay in town now that our enemies are losing their teeth."

"Yes, Lord Cipher," she said breathlessly, still trying to get her wits about her.

(From what Bill had eavesdropped between her and Dani while he was pretending to be in the restroom, he was right that she'd been one of his "dissatisfied housewife" converts. This was probably the first time she'd ever been touched by somebody who understood anatomy. Unfortunately, she didn't know how to return the favor. But he'd been touched by reverent hands, he'd tasted tears, he'd heard a voice whine "Bill, my god, my god, my god—" That would have to hold him for a while.)

"And ditch the rental. Buy a used car," Bill said. "There's a place in town called Gleeful Auto Sales. Ask Bud for the best car on the lot, pay whatever he asks—and tell him Mr. Locke sent you."

"'Gleeful' as in...?"

"His father. My Star Boy was the only person in town who supported me—and the town's turned on his family for it. They could use our help."

Sue pursed her lips in displeasure. "Of course."

Bill gestured toward his door. "I think we've put this off long enough."

While he waited for her to get his door, he slung his two backpacks over each shoulder. Under his breath, he muttered, "'Coffee break's over; back on your heads.'"

Sue opened the door; he picked up his umbrella and stepped out into the rain.

As he walked back to his prison, he tucked his necklace beneath his shirt.

Bill reminded himself that he didn't have anything to be afraid of. Ford had thrown away the one shot that could have killed him. He was safe.

####

1:20 a.m.

As Stan followed Ford into his underground study, he shot a glance at the barren far end of the room. He grumbled, "Nice to see you haven't started putting triangle posters back up."

"I'm not..." Ford sighed in irritation. "Never mind."

"So what's so important that you had to drag me down to your nerd cave? If this isn't good—"

"I didn't waste our shot."

"What?"

At his metal worktable, Ford unlatched the Quantum Destabilizer's carrying case and opened it. "You said I wasted the only fuel we had. I didn't." He detached the NowUSeeitNowUDontium's fuel tank and held it out. The needle on the side indicated it was about a quarter full—nowhere near its full capacity, but enough for one shot, and just as much as they'd brought home from Fiddleford's.

Stan gaped. "But... hold on—we saw that shot through the walls. How the heck did you fake...?"

"Before he started developing a process to generate Dontium, Fiddleford came up with a power adaptor that could plug into the town's electricity." Ford picked up the power cord wound up in the carrying case. "He determined that it only gave the Destabilizer enough power to operate like a laser, not destroy matter and energy, so we still needed to develop the Dontium... but, I still had the cord on hand."

####

Saturday, 12:07 p.m.

Ford looked at the dummy. Looked at the note.

And then he lay the note on the dummy, knelt by the edge of the loft, opened his case, and removed the Quantum Destabilizer.

He slid out its fuel tank, returned it to the case, and pulled out the cord.

He climbed down to the bedroom; unplugged the room's air conditioning unit from its dedicated higher voltage wall socket; and plugged in the Quantum Destabilizer's cord.

In the loft, trying to figure out how to plug the other end of the cord into the Quantum Destabilizer, he was suddenly struck by the hair-raising feeling that someone was watching him. He whipped around; the eye on Bill's hood stared at him resentfully.

Ford stared back at it a moment; then he stood, pulled the hoodie off the dummy, and stuffed it into a nearby box.

He knelt. He plugged in the cable. He carefully lined up the shot with the dummy.

He fired.

####

12:09 p.m.

The atmosphere abruptly grew eerily quiet and still as the unplugged air conditioning unit fell silent. There was a shrill, whistling shriek and a blast of blue-white light so brilliant it pierced the cracks of the wooden boards in the attic bedroom's walls.

Every light in the house went out as the Quantum Destabilizer's power adapter drained every drop of electricity in town.

####

12:10 p.m.

The air was hot, stagnant, and stuffy. There was a pile of ashes three feet in front of Ford's knees.

Ford heard Dipper and Stan come into the bedroom and climb the ladder. He was seized by an urge to sweep away the ashes and the evidence of his trick before they could realize what he'd done:

The Quantum Destabilizer, at full power, completely destroyed all matter and energy.

It didn't leave behind ashes.

####

Monday, 1:23 a.m.

Ford said, "Bill left a letter in the attic asking me to help cover his getaway. If I didn't fire the gun, Bill would have known I'd told you he escaped. But if he could see the Quantum Destabilizer firing, he'd think I'd chosen his side. The only way to lure him back to the shack was by making him think I'd used up the only substance we have that could destroy him." He muttered, "Granted, I'd assumed he'd try to contact me secretly rather than knock on the door in the middle of the night, but..."

Stan gaped at Ford. Then he burst into loud laughter. "Sixer, you tricky sonova! I don't believe it!" He socked his arm. "I oughta retire from the conning business and hand it over to you!"

A smile slowly crept up Ford's face.

Stan pointed with his thumb over his shoulder at the elevator. "So we can go up there and finish him off now, right? Just wait for him to fall asleep, and...?"

Ford's smile disappeared. "No."

"N—What do you mean, 'no'?"

"I..." He took a deep breath as he chose his words. "I was serious, earlier, when I... said I want to give him a chance."

"Wh—? Still? Ford, come on, you can't think he deserves it?"

"No. Of course not. Not even close." Ford didn't hesitate. "But... does he need to deserve a chance to get one? I wonder if maybe Mabel's on to something. If he could be better, he can't show us unless we give him the second chance—before he's earned it." He sounded like a lunatic. "He can't earn it if he's dead."

Stan looked for a moment like he wanted to argue; and then something painful flashed through his eyes; and then he looked away from Ford, scowling to himself as he thought. He sighed heavily. "Yeah. Okay. Fine. Darn it, I don't wanna do it either. The creep's actually starting to grow on me. Like some kind of foot fungus."

Ford huffed. "What's important is, if we give him a chance and he throws it away, I haven't left us unarmed." He gestured to the unplugged fuel tank.

Stan looked at the tank; then looked at Ford. "You could've told us about the power cord trick yesterday, and you didn't." Stan crossed his arms. "Be honest. Do you really think, if it came down to it, you'd be able to pull the trigger now?"

"No." And again Ford didn't hesitate. "I want to believe I could; but I... don't trust myself. Yesterday morning, I never would have thought I'd decide against executing him for any reason. I know Bill's playing games with me, and yet I'm still playing along—so what else might I do?" He shrugged helplessly. He hated that Bill could still take control of his mind—even when he couldn't physically get inside it. "To some extent, he's gotten into all our heads."

Stan grimaced, but he didn't argue.

"That's why I think Fiddleford should keep the Quantum Destabilizer. He's never been taken in by Bill's tricks. If it becomes necessary, he won't hesitate."

"You know the situation's bad when Old Man McGucket's the voice of reason," Stan muttered. "But, I like that idea. We can drop it off with him in the morning."

Ford sighed. "He's probably spent the last two days thinking Bill's dead. He won't be happy to see us."

As they walked back to the elevator, Stan said, "Maybe leaving Bill alive isn't an end-of-the-world bad idea. How much trouble can he get in when he can't escape that magic barrier around town?"

"That's true," Ford said. "He's essentially harmless—at least to the rest of the universe."

Ford didn't have anything to be afraid of. Bill was trapped in the weirdness barrier; and he couldn't even leave the shack without help. They were safe.

####

As fancy as his new coat looked, Bill was was grateful to crawl back into the comfortingly formless body-obscuring shelter of his hoodie. He pulled his hood over his face, curled up on his usual cushions (sigh) in his usual spot (sigh), and quickly fell asleep.

And began to dream.

And, in his dream, saw through his nearby eyes.

In his sleep, he could see the attic from where he lay on his cushions. He sat up, realized his vision was crooked, straightened out his hood, and stood; and he began sleepwalking.

He crept silently downstairs. He walked backwards into the gift shop. He walked up to a spinning rack of keychains that Soos had set up on the display case, took off his necklace, and hung it from one of the hooks.

He pulled aside the curtain hiding the ladder to the roof.

Bill was very good at lying. Bill was very good at lying to himself. No, that wasn't true—Bill had never lied to himself in his life, and he was willing to kill anyone who tried to say he had. Bill didn't tell himself lies; he told himself what should be the truth. Believing in a new reality was the first step toward making it real. All you had to do was lie until you weren't lying anymore—and then, you'd never lied at all. It was very simple.

He'd spent billions of years swimming in and out of dreams, until he was more comfortable with how reality worked in dreams than he was with how reality worked in actual reality; and there was no other state of existence where the line between truth and lie was blurriest. Unlike the physical world, where altering reality tended to require a little more actual work, in a dream, lying until it came true really was as simple as thinking about your new truth.

That was all it took. One bright, lucid thought to shine order through the confused fog of the subconscious.

Bill was getting good at lucid dreaming.

Bill was dreaming now.

A couple of weeks ago, Bill had heard Wendy called the trap doors in the ceiling "roof lids."

No, that wasn't true. A couple of weeks ago, Bill had heard Wendy call the roof lids "roof lids," because that was what they were. Bill couldn't open doors, didn't have the first idea of what to do with a door, but he could open lids. Jar lids. Pot lids. Toilet lids. He'd practiced with toilet lids—they had hinges, that made them the most similar to roof lids. If he could open all those lids, he could open these lids.

As he stared, the trap doors changed, in the way that dream images had of swimming and shifting dizzily before your eyes, into roof lids.

He climbed the ladder, pushed up the roof lid, climbed through; and then opened the second one that led onto the roof. He moved so silently. The rickety rungs and old wooden boards didn't even creak beneath his footsteps. He climbed out, sleepwalked his way to the roof hangout spot, and jumped off the roof.

He descended, slow as a feather, to land lightly on the ground, as though gravity hardly touched him.

Almost a month ago, on his birthday, Stan had taken off his gold chain and chucked it off into the forest so he could put on his birthday gift instead. Bill had watched enviously from the window. Now, triumphantly, he scooped up the long-coveted chain and wrapped it several times around his wrist.

And then he went to the tree where he'd hung up his second backpack full of contraband and retrieved it.

There were several pine trees right next to the shack. As near-weightless as Bill was in his dream, it was easy for him to climb one of the trees and get back on the roof.

In the gift shop, the vending machine swung open as Stan and Ford returned to the house level. They went into the living room, heading toward bed. The All-Seeing Eye hanging on the keychain rack watched as the door swung shut behind them. After waiting a few more seconds to ensure they were gone, Bill slid down onto the ladder, shut the roof lid, and jumped noiselessly to the floor. He retrieved his necklace from the keychain rack.

This was a vending machine. It wasn't a door. It clearly wasn't a door. Bill punched in the vending machine's code and stepped back as it swung aside for him. He crept down the stairs.

This was an elevator. The elevator had doors, and he didn't know how to open them, but he wasn't worrying about those. The doors would sort themselves out somehow. All he cared about was the elevator. He was NOT trying to open the doors. He wasn't even thinking about opening the doors. He pushed the button to call the elevator.

The elevator doors slid open. See, just like he'd thought: the doors took care of themselves.

He pushed the button for the lowest floor. The doors slid shut.

As he rode down, he wove his new necklace's thin chain between the links of Stan's much thicker chain. Oh yeah. That looked much better.

The doors opened again into the interdimensional portal's control room.

He put on his necklace and stepped out. It was about time he made it back here. Bill really should have taken more time to check this place out at the start of summer. Why had he been in such a rush to kill the Pines? He'd had time travel. He could have rebuilt the entire portal by himself, won the lotto in Texas, spent a week in a seven star hotel, watched the Titanic sink, become President Trembley's First Lady, gotten Mysterious Mo's autograph, planted a NASA rocket in an Aztec temple just to give those ancient alien morons an undeserved but funny win, and then come back to finish the job.

Well, hindsight, whatever. At least he had a list of things to do if he ever got his hands on that time tape again. Anyway, he was back now.

He didn't think he'd need to be asleep to get back into the gift shop, and he probably needed his full brain turned on for the task ahead. He pulled his hood off, opened his eyes, and woke up.

The world looked so much less malleable.

He fished a notebook and red and black pens from his backpack, picked his way through the rubble of the portal, and began taking notes in Plaintext on how many parts were salvageable. Every few minutes, he flipped a page forward to begin work on blueprints for a new portal.

####

(And that concludes... season 1. idk out of how many seasons, but it sure feels like a season finale, don't it?

Next week's The Book Of Bill y'all! I'll be posting a chapter, but which chapter depends on TBOB. If TBOB is either compatible with the backstory I've got for Bill, or so wildly incompatible that there's no way I can reconcile my backstory so don't bother trying, I'll be posting a flashback chapter! But if TBOB is compatible enough that i MIGHT be able to reconcile it with my backstory with a lot of editing, I'll be posting the first chapter of "season 2" to give me time to edit the flashback. We'll find out next Tuesday!

In the meantime, a whole lot happened in this chapter, and I can't wait to hear what y'all think—about this chapter, about everything that's happened so far, about what's coming up, whatever!)

#bill cipher #human bill cipher #grunkle ford #grunkle stan #mabel pines #dipper pines #soos ramirez #(tagged mostly for the art but like they're in the chapter too lmao)#gravity falls #gravity falls fic #gravity falls fanart #fanart #my art #my writing #bill goldilocks cipher

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aamircoeur · 5 months ago

Note

Can I request Headcanons about Kenji Sato is dating a Volleyball Player! (Y/n) :3

If you have free time 👉👈

Ken Sato with a volleyball player lover ー hcs.

omg baby as someone who plays vball for our school this means sm to me HAHAH tysm 4 the req

sfw. fluff, imagines, hcs. enjoy reading! 🤍UNEDITED

he is so expressive when he comes to your games

his eyes would always be on you and shouts whenever you're in contact with a ball

doing a perfect dig against the enemy's spikes? he's shouting

you set the ball as a save? he's screaming

you can't even imagine how loud he shouts when you spike a ball

"YEAH THAT'S MY BABY!" embarrassing.

but cute tbh

you and him have matching jersey numbers

he keeps saying that soon enough both of you would be known as player number 7: sato

sometimes you guys watch baseball and volleyball tournaments as dates

and during vball ones he'd be so expressive without even knowing what it meant

"what! why couldn't the small guy push it over?"

"only three touches are allowed, baby."

"she could've reached that if she jumped, love!"

"liberos can't jump if they hit the ball, baby."

"oh, she touched the net. that's bad right? that's gotta be bad."

"yes, kenji, it's bad."

the two of you do conditioning together

he helps you with plyos and you guys work on lengthening your stamina together

he prefers working out alone with you and without a trainer

gym dates with him !! and he insists on matching color outfits with you

your team and his mingle sometimes !

there was a day that you both had a game and held the after party for both of your teams at your home

his team liked you a lot, some being fans, and you being fans of others too

but you can never ever say that out loud

kenji would kill the guy that you're a fan of and then himself afterwards

he's so dramatic i love him

you've played volleyball with him before, teaching him the basics and all that u know

he likes playing as a middle blocker, taking advantage of his height

you guys joined an open play that was held near your place and he was everyone's favourite because he kept blocking good hits, w people asking him to play at their team after every set

or maybe it's because he's ken sato

you on the other hand had your own group of 6

you went against his team and it was a tight match

you didn't miss the look that kenji had whenever you thanked and up fived the setter for a great set

you guys went home right after that set, as per his request

#ultraman rising #ultraman netflix #ultraman #ken sato hcs #ken sato headcanons #ken sato imagines #ken sato x reader #ken sato #kenji sato

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cherie-doll · 5 months ago

Text

𓆩♡𓆪 Headcanon: Summer With Them

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ- Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Alejandro, Phillip Graves, Keegan, König, Horangi, Nikto

ׂׂૢ Y’all have no idea how much i hate summer i defrost from vampire to weird nerd -1000 aura points or whatever they’re saying on the clock app

Anyways i finished this while at the laundromat

Ghost

Prefers summer nights to summer days or evenings

Sits on the porch at night with you listening to the cicadas sing

And during this time you can’t take showers together bc he won’t let you adjust the temperature, he takes his showers ice cold

Don’t ask me where I get this from but he vibes with that one Type O Negative song bc according to him it gives “summer” (iykyk)

Prob has sun sensitivity

Cannot leave the house without his sunglasses

And he avoids driving when the sun’s too bright

Soap

Bastard who enjoys summer #1

He likes summer because it means going down to the beach and showing off his muscles that stay clothed under uniform throughout the year

Wants to buy swimming trunks that’ll match your swimwear

He likes joining teens in volleyball and flying kites with kids

Loves going on walks on the beach at dawn and dusk

He once gave you a bad scare when making you think the dolphin fin in the water was a shark

Even if you’re at home he’ll drag you out of bed to join his morning walk and evening walks after dinner

Gaz

He’s content with summer

Will come up with tons of things to do

Picnics he prepares every weekend

Cloud watching

Catching fireflies in a jar and setting them free all at once to see them glow

Running his fingers through your hair as the breeze blows

Making lemonade together to stay cool outside

Buys a vintage camera to take lots of pics of you

On every evening walk you take together he picks something small like a leaf or flower and saves it

At the end of the season he gets everything together and creates a page in his scrapbook

Alejandro

Bastard who enjoys summer #2

He likes the feel of summer breeze on his bare skin and you look forward to seeing that ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Likes to sleep with the windows open at night

Blasts music

Carne asadas

Frequents the local ice cream shops to buy mangonadas

Throughout the entire summer your kitchen has fruits of all kind that he eats with tajin

Will take you for a drive around in his truck and then find a quiet little spot like a lake or mountain to park and sit on the truck bed watching the sky

Phillip Graves

Sits outside with sunglasses on and beer in hand

Calls for you to come out and sit with him to watch the sunset

Cookouts

Anytime you complain of the heat you better hope he’s not around to yap your ear off about some anecdote from when he was a child

“It’s hot” “Ain’t that hot” he responds whilst his face is sunburned bc he refuses to wear sunscreen

Will only wear sunscreen if you are able to catch him before he goes outside and apply it for him

Keegan

It seems like summer evenings are the perfect time to do stuff

For some reason likes to do things shirtless in summer: yard/garden work, mowing the lawn, washing the car..

You set up a chair on the porch to watch him

Falling asleep on a soft patch of grass under the shade of a tree

Will start a bonfire and sit around it with you for hours into the late hours of the night

Sometimes you’ll stay out so late with him that both of you fall asleep

König

He’s not fond of summer

Would prefer to stay inside but if you want to he’ll go out as well

Sprawls on the floor with the fan on

He’ll drive where you want to go and then sit in the car watching you

Prob keeps ice packs in a cooler to keep cool when going outside for a long time

He’d rather be outside when the sun starts to set and the sky turns orange

Sets up a hammock

Afternoon naps on the hammock with the gentle sway of the wind

Horangi

He likes summer and prepares for it

Just imagine him getting out a little backpack with a sunhat, sunglasses, sunscreen, water bottle, umbrella, cooling sleeves, etc…

That’s not for him tho that’s for you he puts on sunglasses and is good to go

During summer he loves going to markets and buying fruit bc that’s when it’s best

Lots of strawberries, grapes and tangerines

Constantly reminds you to wear sun protection

He likes being outside a lot actually and will take you to his favorite parks and places to hike

Nikto

The change of seasons does not affect him much

He’ll notice the change of weather one day and mention how much warmer it is

“It’s summer” “Oh, we should go camping soon…”

He’ll take you camping whether you like it or not insisting that you will like it

Sets a tent near the river to catch fish

He also likes to plant vegetables during the nice weather and bring them to you, proudly showing off his hard work rewarded

He likes to cook meals together and eat outside

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bluesidez · 7 months ago

Text

GymRat!Miguel Part 8

content warning: fluff, a little bit of hurt/comfort, some mentions of food, 18+ so MDNI, thigh riding 😙, thigh fucking 🤪, public indecency??? exhibitionism???, katoptronophilia aka mirror sexy time (thanks for the word jelly 🪼), just overall a really good time

word count: 4.4k, not proofread (we're only gearing up to what I assume will be another giant chapter 😷)

Prev | Next ✩°｡ ⋆⸜ 🎧✮ Masterlist

GymRat!Miguel who does some sets of push-ups, sit-ups, and leg raises in place of the gym. You watch him while you wait for room service, encouraging him from the side. Your presence was especially needed during the sit-ups when you sit at his feet, holding them down and giving him kisses when sits up.

GymRat!Miguel who sings loudly in the shower after his workout. You have to answer the door with an apology as the server laughs at Miguel belting out Britany Spears.

GymRat!Miguel who finally decides to respond to his texts. He’s had enough time to cool off and your presence was like a calm breeze, kissing away at his skin.

He discards his empty plate, placing it back on the cart. You’re still chewing away at some fluffy pancakes, enjoying the views of the high-rise hotel as the default channel played soft jazz.

GymRat!Miguel who lays in your lap while you eat some fruit. He has his phone in his hands ready to type, but he opens his mouth, silently begging for you to feed him grapes and pineapple chunks.

He hums to himself happily when you comply, combing a hand through his hair. He felt so peaceful like this. Serene.

GymRat!Miguel who sighs as he opens the message app. Here we go.

Abuela 💕:

“Abuela I’ll call you tonight”

“And there will be no babies. Not now”

“There better not be!”

Pa:

“Gracias pa”

“I’m glad you were able to meet her”

“She means a lot to me”

“I can tell”

“Mijo you pack a big punch!”

“Uno más!!!”

“You got that from me 👍🏽”

“Sure did pa 😭”

Gabri 🤡🤏🏽:

“You’re such an instigator”

“It’s not instigating. It’s reporting 😌”

“‘It’s reporting ☝🏽🥸’”

“Shaddap”

“You think I’m letting a member of the robotics team bully me?”

“You have perfect pitch and play the saxophone”

“You’re not winning this battle”

“Aren’t you supposed to be entertaining my girl? 🤨”

“Direct this clown act to her”

“Not sure how she puts up with it but I’ll free her soon”

“Stfu”

“A real man would be doing OTHER things but I digress”

“Did you really have to send a pic”

“You hate me”

“It’s clear to me now”

“Anyway what’s this about Tyler punching things”

“OHHHHH”

“He got him good”

“Square in the face”

“A bloody mouth to match his nose”

“TWINEM”

“Good”

"Pa said he granted me the ability to punch"

“He can dream on about that”

“Because where tf is my strength 😒”

"He punched Tyler before"

"Your time will be soon"

"😕"

"Also Ik about Nancy cheating already"

"Tyler told me in high school"

"I didn't want to be the one to tell Kron"

"Ur better than me"

"I would have told him that after that punch"

"YOUR MOM IS A HOMEWRECKER!"

"That's not what that means but ok"

Dana:

“Does your bf know you’re lusting after others?”

“Not if you don’t tell 😙”

“….I don’t think I want to give you her number”

“You’re perfect for Gabri”

“You’re both unbearable”

“What’s unbearable is I’m not talking to your gf rn”

“It’s too many O’Haras”

“Too much testosterone”

“SAVE ME MIG’S GF”

“MIG’S GF SAVE ME!!!”

Dad….Tyler:

“It’s ok. For what it’s worth, I can tell that you had good intentions.”

“Gabri told me what happened”

“I apologize for acting out of order and punching your son, but I couldn’t let him disrespect my girlfriend and my mom. No matter how difficult she may be, I’m the one who should tell her about it. Not him.”

"I completely understand that. You did what you thought was right, and that's far more admirable than what Kron did."

"In another reality, you and Kron could get along. For now, I will aim for cordial. I will make sure that he apologizes to you, your girlfriend, and Conchata."

"I don't want an apology if it's not genuine."

"Let's move on from that. You said you wanted to make it up to me? I saw that you added more dates to the hotel. Thank you for that, you didn't have to."

"Yes! If you are willing, I would love for you and your girlfriend to meet with me. I actually arranged something for you, Gabriel, and your girlfriends. I want to hear your input before I finalize the details."

"Sure thing. Is this afternoon ok?"

"That's perfect. I'll see you then."

Ma:

Read: 11:10 AM ✓✓

“Ugh,” Miguel groans, shutting his phone off and closing his eyes.

You stop rubbing his hair and look down, “What’s wrong?”

Miguel grunts as he moves your hand to continue, “My mom wants me to come home. Not sure if I want to do that right now. Not unless I know she’s ready to be accountable for once, which I highly doubt.”

You hum in understanding, “She’s still your mom, though. You’ll have to see her eventually.”

“My mom or not, she had no right to talk to you the way she did,” Miguel said reaching his hand up to your face. “It was cruel and…strange coming towards you. She doesn’t know you. Not yet, anyway.”

It’s not like she was trying to know you, either. Miguel seemed to understand this in your silence.

“I have to go grab some clothes so she might just get her wish,” Miguel says, turning his head towards your stomach.

You look down at him, “You don’t have to. Today is my last day here.”

“Well, lucky for us, Tyler extended the stay for a few more days,” he grinned. He started to move your shirt to fondle your skin.

Your stomach twitched as his breath brushed your skin. He started to kiss along your front, head disappearing under your sweater. He hummed as he started to tug at your underwear with his teeth.

“Hey,” you say, watching his head moving around through the material. “Stop that and finish talking.”

You pulled your sweater up to reveal him, his teeth still holding the band of your panties and eyes like a cat that got caught.

He let the band go close to your stomach so it wouldn’t snap, “This visual is making me forget everything.” His eyes are heavy and wandering.

You look to where he’s looking to see that you’re essentially flashing him.

You drop your shirt in embarrassment, letting out a sound of panic.

“No, no, baby let me see.”

“No, you’re at such a weird angle.”

“All art must be viewed up close and personal.”

Miguel sat up from your lap. He watched as you huffed and pinched the neckline of your sweater, moving it for air.

"You're so confident from afar, but when I'm near you like this, you get so shy. Even in public, you can be so bold. It's just you and me here."

"It's just," you watch Miguel as he crowds your space. His mouth goes behind your ear to press his lips into your skin. "I don't know. It feels like...more when it's just us. More real."

"Does it not feel real when we're in public?"

Miguel sits back, eyes wondering to yours. There's a pinch in his eyebrows, so faint you almost miss it.

"It does! That's not what I mean."

"Then, what is it? Tell me. Talk to me."

"I want to do more with you."

"But?" Miguel holds your hands in his, stopping you from picking at the loose threads of the sweater. He rubs them with his thumbs, itching to pull you closer.

"But, when you look at me like that, I feel like I could pass out. I get overwhelmed and nervous. I don't want to say or do anything stupid. It gets harder to control myself. I feel crazy."

Oh.

"Then there are moments when my brain fools me into thinking that you don't like me in the way that I like you. Moments when that girl from not so long ago comes back, ashamed of herself and her body. A small part of me that thinks you could date anyone else and you're settling."

Miguel takes a moment to process your words.

He takes a breath, then opens his mouth.

"You really don't understand how much you affect me, do you?"

Miguel pulled you in his lap, fed up with this charade.

You grip his shoulders, steadying your balance with how fast he grabbed you.

"Miguel-"

"I don't know everything that your last boyfriend did to you and I don't know everything that you've experienced because of your body. Baby, I don't even know what you've seen all this time to make you think you're not worthy of love and respect, but I'm here to squash it."

"I meant it when I said that I love you. I'll learn it in a hundred languages just to remind you. I'll even tattoo it on my forehead for you to be reminded of it every single time you see me."

"I don't think you need to go that far," you say, eyes warm.

"No, I think I should. Anything for you to understand me. Anything for you to see you like how I see you."

"Letting out my deepest darkest secrets here, but do you know what I did when we first met?"

You shake your head, curious.

"I had a dream about you that was so good, I fell out of my bed. Peter never lets me live it down."

"A sweet dream?"

"Now, you and I both know it was more than that. Two cold showers should answer your questions."

You hide your face in his neck, heartbeat drumming through you, "Did you really?"

"Hand to heart. I understand your feelings. I acknowledge them too, but I need you to understand mine as well. Trust me when I say that you are unbelievably sexy. I love you and your body. My eyes caught your appearance before I came to know your personality. Anybody would be lucky to have you, but I'm the luckiest because you chose me."

Miguel hugged you close and kissed your head.

"Now let's rewind. You said you feel crazy when you're close to me?"

You groan in his neck.

"Uncontrollable? Heated?"

"Miggy, stop."

"My girlfriend is head over heels for me," Miguel hummed as he rubbed his hands down your naked legs. "She wants to ruin me."

"No, I don't."

"She's still wearing my clothes with nothing underneath but her panties and is leaning all over me. Her thighs are around my waist and she just told me that she wants me."

"You put me here," you lean up and stare at him. Your cheeks were hot and your eyes were dewey.

"She's looking at me like she's upset, but now I know that her heart is going crazy. I want to kiss her."

"Then do it," you whisper.

The kiss is sweet, the taste of fruit and syrup still on your lips. You finally relax in his arms, body melted against his. His hands slip under your sweater, dancing over your back. Your skin is soft and warm, a blanket over Miguel's figure.

The time where you two connect extends deeper and longer. You let your hands venture further than the nape of his neck, roaming until you brush across his chest. Miguel's breath hitched as your nails raked his nipple, chest jumping at the impact.

You break for a second, wanting to get air, but Miguel leans back in, desperate. He's whining, groping your body all over. His noises go straight to your core, twitching above him. He matches your pace, dragging your hips across his, reveling in how fast your body was reacting to him.

When he leans back, there's a string of saliva connecting you two. He's breathing hard as he watches you.

"Can I take this off? Please," Miguel grips the bottom of your sweater, eyes pleading.

You bite your lip and slide the sweater over your head, dropping it to the bed. You bring your hands over the top of your chest, arms framing your breasts.

You can't look Miguel in the eyes, too shy, "Is this fine?"

Miguel's eyes almost turn as he watches you, so shy but so seductive. He reaches out to cup your breasts in his hands, groaning when they plush through his fingers.

"You're so," Miguel rubs his thumbs across your nipples, enjoying you twitching and gasping in his hold. "Fuck."

His gaze burned into you, hungry as you lapped his tongue around your nipples. You let out a whimper when you feel him pull your skin in, mouth hot. It doesn't beat his pleased hum, voice like a man finally getting relief.

He massages your vacant breast, movements getting harsher. His grip is like a vice making it harder for you to second-guess yourself.

You hiss and rake your hands through his hair, "B-baby, be careful."

"Lo siento, mi amor," Miguel says, kissing across your areolas. "'M sorry."

You find your breath, fighting to steady your voice, "You're on me like we didn't just do something earlier."

Miguel paused and placed his cheek on your chest, "Baby, I'm a virgin and a man, not a prude. With practice, I could go all day."

The thought of that has you tightening your legs around him, hips stuttering. Miguel shifts to pull you over his left thigh.

"Does that excite you, baby?" Miguel smirks.

You close your eyes and nod, hips rolling over his thigh, keening high as he hikes his thigh closer to your sex and grips your waist. His muscles feel so good against you, the sounds getting wetter and wetter with each swipe.

"God, you're so pretty like this," Miguel sighs. "My gorgeous girl."

Your movements are becoming more frantic, Migiuel's voice in your ears spurring you on. He was sucking into your neck, growling as you scratched against his shoulder blades.

"That's right, baby. Keep going. Use me to get off," Miguel helped your hips keep a steady pace, pulling at your briefs to a makeshift thong. The tightness of your underwear combined with his thigh and his voice sends you into overdrive.

"Miguel!" you sob, hands gripping his hair. Your body trembles as you squeeze your thighs around him, cunt pulsating around nothing but your underwear, release leaking onto his leg.

Miguel cooed as you dropped your weight against him, body limp and hips fluttering with aftershocks. You panted as you kept your head on his shoulder, willing yourself to calm down.

"Are you ok?" Miguel asks, kissing your temple, your ear, your cheek. He feels you nod into his skin, blissed out.

"I like how you called me the needy one and you're the one who came three times today," Miguel mumbled, laughing as you swatted at his pec.

"I already confessed what you do to me. This shouldn't be shocking."

"Didn't say that. 'M just happy you feel more comfortable around me. It's what I want." One last kiss to your face seals his joy.

You lift up on shaky knees, hands holding onto Miguel for dear life. Your thighs were still shaking and your underwear was ruined. Miguel's cock twitched at the essence that seeped onto his leg, watching as sticky lines dragged from his skin to yours.

He grabbed you by the waist with one hand and wiped at your slick with another.

He's about to swipe at it with his tongue until you stop him.

"Miguel! Don't do that," you say, flustered.

"What? I'm just enjoying the fruits of my labor," he pouts as you grab some napkins and clean off his hands and thigh.

"So close to eating you, yet so far," he sighs miserably. "One day."

You ignore him and look down at his erection, taking a knuckle and lining the side. It was your first time really paying attention to him down there, now that you weren't distracted by his advances.

"What about you?"

He twitched as you walked along his clothed shaft, pre-come leaking through the fabric.

"As much as I want you to continue, we have to get ready for today," Miguel jerks as you continue your ministrations with a pout on your face. "And, I need condoms if you want to take this any further."

"Not even a blowjob?" you peer at him with your deer eyes again.

Miguel took a deep breath, "I was right. You are trying to ruin me."

GymRat!Miguel who lets you know that Tyler wants to meet you both after you both have changed clothes for the day. Something about a surprise.

"I love surprises!" you say turning to Miguel with a smile on your face. "As long as it's nothing like last night. I think it'll be ok."

Miguel matches your smile and presses his lips to yours.

GymRat!Miguel who stops at his home briefly, trying to get in and get out. He manages to fill up his travel bag, drop off his laundry, and give Gabriel a heart attack all before his mom notices he's there.

"Where are you going?" Gabriel asks with his hand over his heart, headphones lopsided around his neck.

"None of your business, nosy."

"Uh, it kind of is my business. You think you're grown when you're really not."

Miguel rolls his eyes. He didn't really want to tell Gabriel, but sometimes he couldn't say no to him.

"We're going out to see Tyler. He has a surprise for us. He also said he arranged something for us including you and Dana."

"Oh shit! Ok. And if mom asks where you are?"

"Tell her I'll come by tomorrow. I'm spending the next few days with my girlfriend."

"Alrighty," Gabriel sing-songs, placing his headphones back on his head. "You kids be safe. Don't scare my girl away."

Miguel smacks Gabriel across the head and runs out the door before he can catch up.

GymRat!Miguel who just laughs at your face while you frantically unlock the car to let him in.

"Baby, what's wrong?" you ask, voice in a panic.

"A string bean is trying to attack me," he responds, giggling as Gabriel runs out of the house.

"I'm getting you back for that you oaf!" Gabriel yells as Miguel backs out of the driveway. He stops his anger to wave at you, which you return with a sweet smile.

"Baby, you're encouraging him."

GymRat!Miguel who guides you through the doors of a cafe that Tyler recommended. He sticks out like a sore thumb with his stark white hair and light clothing. The only semblance of color on him was his silver jewelry.

He sat there, typing away at his phone, oblivious to the people around him who found familiarity in his form.

"Dad," Miguel said, the word funny on his tongue. He tried to make an effort to refer to him as his father in public, something Tyler appreciated greatly.

"Son!" he got up and engulfed him in a hug, giving you a softer version afterward. "It's good to see you both."

"It's lovely to see you again as well, Mr. Stone," you say, giving Miguel a smile when he pulls your chair out for you. "Thank you so much for thinking of us after all that's happened. Thank you for paying for my stay as well, the hotel is very lovely."

"Anything for Miguel's loved ones," he smiles in a way that has a hint of Miguel. You feel better going into the rest of this meal.

GymRat!Miguel who almost chokes on his coffee before Tyler can finish his sentence.

"A yacht?!"

"Is it too much? I can do something else to your liking," Tyler frets, wiping his hands on his slacks. "I'm not sure what all kids your age like nowadays."

"I've never been on a yacht. so I don't even know how to react," Miguel responds.

The two of them are sporting the same deer-in-headlights look.

"I'm sure it would be a great experience for all of us. If everyone doesn't mind, I'm sure we can get together and have a great time," you say, helping the two of them out. "Something nice to start the summer off."

"That's great! I will have everything ready by the beginning of next month then," Tyler says, mood lifting immediately. He was a lot like a golden retriever. "With that in order, I'd like to grant you this."

He takes his wallet out, reaching in to grab a card.

As he slides it across the table, your eyes grow big.

It's a black card with T. Stone pressed across the bottom.

"What's this for?" Miguel asks, staring at the card with building curiosity.

"You all need clothes for the trip, don't you?" Tyler asks. "And I'm sure you need more clothes to wear this week. Please take this, I don't mind. I trust you not to go overboard. I'll let you know when to give it back."

Miguel took the card in his hands, the weight of it heavier than any of his own.

"I guess it's time for a shopping spree," Miguel said, a smile growing on his face.

GymRat!Miguel who drives you straight to the mall. The windows are down as you both laugh and sing to the song on the radio. Miguel wishes he could record this moment, but for now, he dials it back to replay in his memory.

GymRat!Miguel who is happy to carry your bags and encourages you to buy more. Whenever you start to feel like you've gone overboard, he just whispers "black card" in your ear like a devil on your shoulder.

GymRat!Miguel who convinces you to walk around the name-brand stores. He did have Tyler's card, but he was also thoroughly watching what you gravitated towards. He locked away so many gift ideas for later.

GymRat!Miguel who joins you in the mirror of a shades shop. The both of you take pictures with coordinating glasses and you giggle as Miguel makes silly faces in some of them.

GymRat!Miguel who becomes your doll as you pick out outfits for him. He's smiling down at you as you put different shirts up to his body, mumbling to yourself as you make decisions. So pretty.

GymRat!Miguel who waits while you try on some clothes, giddy whenever you show him a new outfit. You managed to find clothes that coordinated with his and you're super excited about it.

"Close your eyes!" you yell through the door.

He does so and listens for you to walk out. After you take a while, he opens his eyes a little.

"Baby, no peeking," you chastise.

He huffs and waits a little longer.

"Ok. 1, 2, 3, open!"

His eyes land on you in a dress that hugs your curves like no other. Your chest fills out the top perfectly and seeing your stomach through the front is driving him mad.

"Do you like it?" you turned around, giving Miguel a grand view of how your ass was sitting in the dress.

"Do the dressing rooms have a time limit?"

You blink at him owlishly, "No? Why?"

GymRat!Miguel who drags all of your bags and you back inside of the dressing room with lightning speed. As soon as he locks the door, he's attached to your lips, kneading at your ass and hips.

You gasp in his mouth, shocked at how fast he's moving.

"Miguel, what- oh," you sigh as he leans down and pulls your dress up, face buried in your neck.

"You look so good, mi amor. I can't help it."

GymRat!Miguel who almost cums when you pull his dick out. Your eyes grow along with his erection, watching as he twitches in your hold. You've never taken anyone this big and from your hesitance, Miguel can gather this much.

"We don't have to do anything. In fact, you don't have to do that here," he pants.

"You mean take you down my throat?" you ask, running your thumb over his head, watching in awe as liquid seeped out. Miguel bit his hand to quiet his moans. "I'll wait until we're somewhere more private and less noticeable that I'm on my knees for you."

Miguel looks at the open space under the dressing room door, "Yeah that's probably for the best."

GymRat!Miguel who places you in front of him, both of you facing the mirror. Your dress is bunched up and Miguel is rocking his cock in between your thighs.

He's bent down, biting lightly on your shoulder so that he doesn't shout. Your thighs were so warm and plush against him and his pre-cum was spewing out of him like a fountain.

"You feel so fucking good, baby," he moans a little too loud after a few minutes.

GymRat!Miguel who watches you in the mirror. Your tits were so close to slipping from the top of your dress, the impact from his hips jerking your entire body. He grabbed at both of them, watching as you moan at the contact. His slaps got louder and louder, milky fluid running down your legs.

GymRat!Miguel who is overcome with need when you turn and run your tongue across his earlobe. He convulses as his release spurts across the room, landing on the mirror. He grips your hips and breathes hard into your skin, the tempo of his heart moving quick.

You pat his head and praise him, heavy eyes following your hand as you rub his tip that's still rubbing through your thighs. He whines, sensitive, but not moving away from you.

GymRat!Miguel who wipes you down carefully with some wipes you have in your purse. Luckily you both haven't ruined yet another pair of underwear.

He kisses you softly when he finishes, little confessions of love traveling from his lips to yours.

GymRat!Miguel who checks the dressing room one last time, making sure he's gotten any evidence of his removed from the area. Your green dress is in his arms and you've changed back to your outfit.

The area is clean, but there are fresh hickeys on your neck, something he got carried away with.

GymRat!Miguel who walks out like nothing happened. You on the other hand, hand over some extra clothes you didn't like to a worker in slight embarrassment. He eyes you both with a look of horror.

GymRat!Miguel who feeds you Auntie Anne's in the crowded food court. You hum happily after each bite. He dusts cinnamon off the corner of your lips with a smile.

GymRat!Miguel who moves from dusting to leaning across the table to lick the crumbs off when a table full of guys keeps eying you.

"What was that for?" you asked, oblivious to the hound dogs around you.

"Nothing. I just love you, baby."

dividers by: @plutism 🩵

a/n: I got a very useful lesson on condoms and BJs while writing this chapter. It won't ever be applied to this fic, BUT it was still kinda fun nonetheless.

HOPE YOU ENJOYED!! Leave a like, a reblog, and COMMENTS if you did!!! 🩵

taglist: @ghost-lantern @miguelhugger2099 @slushycoookie @emelie-s-h @lake-lili

@obsessed-with-miguels-ass @scaleniusrm @superiorspiderass @lexluvswriting

@flordelalunas @froggygal @vmpz8sauceee @famouscattale @nixinluv02

@jada-of-arcadia @spideykid22 @what-the-jams @julia4today @tojishugetiddies

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woso-dreamzzz · 8 months ago

Text

Mimic II

McFoord x Baby!Reader

Beth England x Baby!Reader

Summary: You're scrappy

The day that it first happens is the match against United.

It's a home game and you're very familiar with the layout as you sit by one of the girls on the bench on your leash and watch.

Mam, predictably, gets a yellow card and you screech your outrage at the ref no matter how much nice Lotte tries to calm you down.

You think Lotte is an alright babysitter but she's very easy to get to do what you want and you know Mummy doesn't like that sometimes. You think she's told Lotte that too because she's got a tight grip on your leash and doesn't let you wander into Jonas' box to scream like you can usually get her to do.

So, you have to amuse yourself by tearing up grass and getting your hands all dirty.

The game ends with a narrow win for Arsenal and Mummy comes to get you very quickly.

You tug at the buckles of your leash. "Off! Off, Mummy!"

"Sorry, gremlin," Mummy laughs," But you have to be on the leash. You know why."

You stamp your foot as Mummy cleans your hands.

"Mam not on leash!" You say finally," Mam was naughty! Yellow rectangle for Mam!"

You're making a good point. Caitlin doesn't want to quite admit that though. You're on the leash because you're naughty sometimes and Katie definitely did get a yellow card today.

She sighs.

It's not the same at all but, for the sake of fairness, Caitlin lets you win this round.

Begrudgingly and definitely to avoid a tantrum, she unclips your leash.

You look positively delighted and she catches your arm before you go running off.

"Stay where me or Mam can see you," She says," And no biting people."

You nod. "I not bite."

"Alright," She says," Go on, run wild."

You giggle hysterically as you run off. You've not quite mastered running though because you trip a few times before pulling yourself up again.

You wander through the crowd of players until you spot the United keeper that saved Mummy's goal.

That's kind of naughty, you think. Saving Mummy's goal shouldn't be allowed.

The girl's kind of tall and she looks strong. She's wearing a different coloured shirt to the other United girls so you can easily track her through the crowd.

She's talking to Leah too and you know how to recognise Leah.

When people are naughty, you usually like to bite them but Mummy told you that you're not allowed to bite today so you choose the next best thing.

Mam says you're scrappy sometimes. You don't know what that means but you think it applies to this situation.

You creep up behind the girl before slamming the top of your head into the back of her knee.

She crumbles to the ground instantly, folding over like the pieces of paper that Mam uses to make paper planes.

"Mary!" Leah shrieks as the girl rolls onto her back.

"What the fuck?!"

You stand over her and wiggle your finger right in front of her face. You stamp your foot for good measure. "No save Mummy goal! Is naughty!"

"What-? Who are you?!"

Leah's hand pulls you further away. "This is Katie and Caitlin's kid," She says," Gremlin, say sorry."

"No! Say sorry first! Save Mummy's goal!"

Thankfully, this United girl (once she's recovered from her sudden fall) takes it in her stride.

"I'm sorry, kid," She laughs," It was only doing my job."

"Naughty job!" You insist," Not happen again!"

It's not exactly an isolated incident either. It seems after every match, you find some player to fight with.

It freaks most of them out, you think, because they're big and strong and you're tiny but still very capable of getting them to the grounds.

You surprise lots of people like Auntie Macca and Auntie Lanni, who find it all so funny that they send you off to do it to their teammates too.

Mummy doesn't like it though. She says that she's raising a delinquent and Mam says it's the McCabe genes, whatever that means.

You're not stingy in who you attack. Everyone is free game but there's one person that you really enjoy fighting with.

Her name's Beth. Beth England, to be exact because there's already a Beth at Arsenal and this one plays for Spurs instead.

Mam says that Spurs is Arsenal's number one rival and you have to hate them because they play in white and white is a colour you can never keep clean.

Beth England wears the armband that Captain Kim wears so you can easily recognise her in a crowd.

She's your nemesis.

That's a big word that Mummy taught you when you were watching Phineas and Ferb a few days ago.

"You need to be very good if I let you off," She says to you and you nod even though you're lying," I mean it. No fighting with Spurs players."

You lie again and nod.

"Alright, give me a kiss first and I'll let you go."

You give Mummy a big wet kiss and immediately, you're on your way.

Mam joins you on your journey and she demonstrates how to hold your fist if you're going to fight someone. She thinks your rivalry with Beth England is funny.

Mummy doesn't like her encouraging it but she does.

"Nem-sis!" You screech when Mam guides you over.

Beth England looks confused. "Nem-sis?"

"She means nemesis," Mam explains," It's her word of the week."

"Oh, right."

"Nem-sis!" You screech again to regain her attention. "Fight me!"

Beth England clears her throat before mimicking your position and putting up her fists.

You run at her.

You don't think she expects that. You think she thinks you were going to punch her but Mam says the element of surprise is important so you crash into her legs and try to topple her over.

She stays standing and you're unable to move her but you don't stop trying.

Behind your head, Katie smothers a laugh and gives Beth a pointed look.

She nods and very carefully lays on the ground like you've forced her over.

You look triumphant and sit on her stomach to stop her from getting up again.

You poke her right between her eyes. "Arsenal best!" You proclaim," Say!"

"Never!"

"Arsenal best!" You bounce on her stomach to show that she's not going anywhere. "Say!"

"You can't make me!"

"Say or! Or go on leash for being naughty!"

That's it. You've got her trembling under your might now and she goes limp.

"Arsenal's the best!" She proclaims," Arsenal's the best! Don't put me on the leash!"

"Good!" You stand up and wiggle your finger at her. "London red! Not dirty white!"

You run back over to Mam and take her hand.

"I beat Beth England!"

"You did!" Mam says," I'm so proud of you."

"'Cause London red!"

#woso x reader #mcfoord x reader #katie mccabe x reader #katie mccabe #caitlin foord x reader #caitlin foord #beth england x reader #beth england #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso

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hellsitegenetics · 10 months ago

Note

(if this is too long please feel free to just do the "upset? I'm not upset" paragraph lol. The warrior cats fandom will thank you!)

"Your quarrel with Brambleclaw has to stop. Too many moons have passed. You have to accept that I'm Brambleclaw's mate, not yours. You can't keep trying to punish Brambleclaw for something that was always meant to be."

"I couldn't care less about Brambleclaw. It's not his fault he fell for a faithless she-cat. I know you think I've never forgiven Brambleclaw for stealing you from me, but you're wrong, and so is every cat that thinks so. My quarrel is with you, Squirrelflight. It always has been."

"All this was moons ago. Ashfur, I had no idea you were still upset."

"Upset? I'm not upset. You have no idea how much pain I'm in. It's like being cut open every day, bleeding onto the stones. I can't understand how any of you failed to see the blood... […] Stay there! I can't believe you didn't know how much you hurt me. You are the blind one, not Jayfeather. Who do you think sent Firestar the message to go down to the lake, where the fox trap was? I wanted him to die, to take your father away so you'd know the real meaning of pain. [...] Brambleclaw saved Firestar then. But he's not here now. He's not here—but your kits are."

"Enough, Ashfur. Your quarrel is with me. These young cats have done nothing to hurt you. Do what you like with me, but let them out of the fire."

"You don't understand. This is the only way to make you feel the same pain that you caused me. You tore my heart out when you chose Brambleclaw over me. Anything I did to you would never hurt as much. But your kits...If you watch them die, then you'll know the pain I felt."

"Kill them, then. You won't hurt me that way. If you really want to hurt me, you'll have to find a better way than that. They are not my kits."

String identified:

" a t aca a t t. T a a a. a t acct tat ' aca' at, t . ca't tg t aca tg tat a aa at t ."

" c't ca at aca. t' t at a at -cat. t ' g aca tag , t ' g, a cat tat t . a t , gt. t aa a ."

"A t a ag. A, a a t t."

"t? ' t t. a a c a ' . t' g ct a, g t t t. ca't ta a a t t … […] ta t! ca't 't c t . a t , t aat. t t ta t ag t g t t a, t ta a? at t , t ta at aa ' t a ag a. […] aca a ta t. t ' t . ' t —t t a."

"g, A. a t . T g cat a tg t t . at t , t t t t t ."

" 't ta. T t a t a t a a tat ca . t at t c aca . Atg t t a c. t t… atc t , t ' t a t."

" t, t. 't t tat a. a at t t , ' a t a tt a ta tat. T a t t."

Closest match: Eimeria praecox genome assembly, chromosome: 4 Common name: The parasite which causes coccidiosis

#tumblr genetics #genetics #asks #requests #sent to me #warrior cats #brambleclaw #ashfur #squirrelflight #warrior cats spoilers #<- ???#thats our second pathogen!#this one causes illness in chickens #parasites

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tomriddleslove · 9 months ago

Text

The Black Lake, a shared blunt, and realisations.

✩Mattheo Riddle x Reader

Summary: The one where Mattheo has had enough. Everyone and everything seems to be agitating him, and he feels as though he can’t catch a break. Then you come along. Alternatively: You may just be his saving grace, hidden in plain sight.

Slight? Angst but mainly fluff

A/N: I get all my fic ideas when listening to music so bear with me when I say there’s a very certain vibe to this and you have to know the song to understand it.

Songs: Tek it - Cafuné

The clock strikes noon, and Mattheo couldn’t be more than relieved to finally leave the stuffy clasroom. Tossing his bag over his shoulder, he swiftly makes his way out of the classroom, ignoring the agitated glares of the other students he had so rudely shoved past.

Now Mattheo wishes he could say he wasn’t this rude that often. He didn’t really go out of his way to fight people per se, but it just so happened to be that he was quite confrontational and rather good at resolving things with his fists. However these past few days he had been more on edge than usual, snapping at almost everyone for reasons that were far beyond him.

Everything seemed to agitate him immensely, from the way lessons seemed to drag on, to his deskmates who all seemed to have a penchant for being the most agitating, infuriating people possible.

I mean, seriously? What could compel a person to chomp down on a beef sandwich in the middle of class at 10 in the morning? The professor may not have noticed but Mattheo most certainly did, having to spend the last hour with a raging headache trying to ignore the obnoxious chewing sounds and the revolting smell of beef.

He all but almost cries as he collapses down onto the sofa in the common room, grateful for the fact that everyone else seemed to have lessons currently. He closes his eyes for a millisecond, letting out a small sigh of frustration.

He feels the sofa dip beside him and that same frustration returns. He opens his eyes, ready to snap at whatever poor person had decided to sit next to him, but his gaze immediately softens when he realises it was you.

“Oh,” He murmurs, and a lazy grin tugs at your lips as you look over at him, raising a brow.

It’s remarkable just how quickly his mood seems to lighten when he sees you.

“Oh?” You repeat, amused.

“Mhmm. Just not in the mood for it recently and thought you were Belby or some other git. I was ready to hex you.” He murmurs, and you roll your eyes in mock admonishment as you reach for your book, leaning back into the sofa as you thumb through the pages.

“Charming, Riddle. Really, I feel flattered.” You say sarcastically, and the corners of Mattheo's mouth quirk upwards.

You and Mattheo were part of the same extended friend group. You weren’t the closest with him, yet you weren’t absolute strangers. You didn’t talk that much to one another, but got along surprisingly well. Mattheo was one of the only people (bar Blaise) who could match your wit and dry humour, and you were one of the few (if not only) people who didn't seem to annoy him.

You pay him no mind as you read your book, and with any other person, Mattheo would have been largely grateful for that. But for some bizarre reason, he wants you to speak to him.

He glances over at you for a second, admiring the way the gentle glow from the fireplace illuminates your face as you read.

How oblivious could one get?

You break the silence, peering down at your book as you speak.

“Do you have a double free period?”

Mattheo hums, looking over at you. He wants you to look up at him so badly, and he can’t tell why. It seemed as though he’d need a slap in the face to make him realise why he craved so much attention from you.

He shifts on the sofa, trying to appear nonchalant as he replies, "Yeah, luckily. No classes for the rest of the day. What about you?"

You glance up from your book, meeting his gaze with a faint smile. "Same here. Wanna come walk around with me?” You ask, and Mattheo nods, albeit a bit confused as to why you’d want to wander around in such cold weather aimlessly.

You reach into your robe pocket, producing a neatly rolled joint with a cheeky wag of your eyebrows. A grin spreads across Mattheo's face as he looks at you, and he raises a brow in mock disappointment.

“Am I seeing correctly, or has the academic prodigy of Hogwarts just suggested we use our valuable study time to get high?”Mattheo taunts, and you scoff, getting up.

“Piss off, Riddle. Are you coming or not?” You retort, glancing back at him.

He looks up at you, and his gaze lingers far too long on the way your eyes light up, your mouth forming a gentle curve as you smile at him and-

Oh god, Mattheo never really stood a chance, did he?

He nods, getting up as he grabs his robe and follows you. You both meander aimlessly through the empty corridors of Hogwarts, poking fun at the unfortunate students who still had lessons. As you walk past a classroom you catch a glimpse of Theodore, chin resting atop his palm as he sleepily gazes at the board. You snicker, nudging Mattheo as you both hide at the side of the doorway, peering into the class. Mattheo wraps an arm around your waist, moving you behind him and you ignore the way you reel at his touch, dazed for a second.

It doesn’t last long, however, for you're drawn out of your short-lived crisis when you spot Mattheo pulling his wand out from his pocket, discreetly pointing it in Theodore’s direction. It was rather astounding seeing how no other students in the class noticed you, but Professor Binn had a rather uncanny knack for getting people to fall into a zombie-like state of fatigue whenever they were in his class. You were convinced it had to be some sort of superpower.

With a short flick of his wand, Theodore's eyes widened as he yelped, hand shooting up to clasp over his upper arm.

As Theodore's yelp echoes through the classroom, everyone snaps out of their daze, their attention immediately drawn to the source of the disturbance. Theodore grimaces, sheepishly looking down as he tries to play it off. Unable to contain your laughter anymore, you snort, and the sound has everyone turning to look outside the classroom.

Mattheo grabs your hand, pulling you along as the two of you run down the corridor, laughter bubbling up from deep within you.

As you round a corner, out of sight from the classroom, you finally come to a stop, breathless from both the running and the laughter. Mattheo leans against the wall, trying to catch his breath as he looks at you with sparkling eyes.

It was amazing how he had gone from being so irate to so…. Carefree. He felt alive with you, like he could forget about the countless burdens that weighed down on him day in and day out.

“That was bloody brilliant,” You wheeze, clutching your ribs as you laugh. Mattheo grins, panting as he nods.

“Theodore’s hilarious. Can’t wait to hear him complain about that later on,” He muses and you snort, straightening up. You jerk your head to the side, motioning for him to join you as you slip out of the castle onto the school grounds. You leisurely walk down the fields, heading towards the Black Lake.

You stop at a large cluster of rocks near the surface of the water, plopping down on the slightly damp grass. Mattheo joins you, long legs stretched out in front of him as you fish around your pocket. His arm presses against yours and you’re immediately warmed by the heat coming off his body, trying to ignore the intoxicating aroma of his cologne filling your senses.

You hit Mattheo's thigh with your hand, nudging him to get the lighter as you place the blunt between your lips. He obliges, cupping his hand around the flame as you lean down to light the tip, taking a few drags. You pass it over to Mattheo, tilting your head back as you exhale with a sigh. Mattheo mimics your actions, letting out a low groan as he passes the blunt back to you.

“Shit, this is fucking good.” He murmurs, eyes flickering over to you as you take another drag.

You speak, blunt dangling between those perfect lips of yours that Mattheo can’t seem to tear his eyes off of.

“Should be,” You muse, handing it over to Matteho as he takes another long drag. “I sucked dick for it.” You comment offhandedly and Mattheo splutters, coughing as he smacks his fist against his chest, looking over at you in disbelief. You look at him with a lazy grin, a hint of amusement in your eyes.

“Relax, of course I didn’t. But with the price it came at I may as well have.” You murmur, shaking your head.

“So ladylike” He teases and you roll your eyes for what must be the umpteenth time, slapping his thigh as you snatch the blunt back.

You remain silent for a while, and it's oddly comforting. Just you and Mattheo, passing the blunt back and forth between one another as you overlook the black lake. The setting sun is reflected in the ripple of the water, golden rays dancing along the small waves that give the illusion of the lake being made of pure gold.

Mattheo leans back on his elbows, exhaling a cloud of smoke into the crisp air. You're reclined beside him, the gentle lapping of the water providing a soothing backdrop to your conversation.

"So, Riddle, what's been bothering you lately?" you ask casually, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between you.

Mattheo hesitates for a moment, his gaze fixed on the horizon as he considers his response. He's never been one to open up easily, but there's something about the softness in your voice that makes him want to confide in you.

"Just...everything, I guess," he admits finally, his tone uncharacteristically vulnerable. "I feel like I'm constantly on edge, and I'm not sure why.”

Your gaze remains on the lake, a pensive expression on your face as you hum.

“I get it. I suppose for all their goodwill it's a bit hard for the boys to understand that.” You murmur and Mattheo chuckles, looking down at the long strands of grass he was fiddling with.

“Tell me about it”

You remain silent for a second longer, before turning to face Mattheo. He looks up at you and feels as though he's pinned down under your gaze. It’s as though you were dissecting his very being, staring at him with a calculating look before you speak once again, your voice low and soft.

“You don’t always have to be a hardhead. You don’t need to dismiss how you’re feeling. We aren’t meant to have this figured out yet. We’re still young, with so much to learn. What’s the point of life if we know it all now?”

Mattheo listens to your words, feeling as though you've peered straight into his soul and laid bare all his insecurities. There's a wisdom in your words that resonates deeply with him. It's as though you possess a wisdom beyond your years, a rare insight that he finds both intimidating and captivating.

"Thank you," he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper.

That god-forsaken smile appears on your face again, and you look over at Mattheo.

“Don’t. Someone has to tell you this, right? I love Nott to bits but I doubt he has anything but quidditch on his mind.” You joke, and Mattheo laughs.

You seamlessly lighten the mood, and Mattheo is eternally grateful for that. Really, he’s grateful for you. He can't think of the last time he's laughed so much. Or felt so free. Perhaps it was the weed, that had lowered his inhibitions and relieved him of his stresses.

But no, it was a drug far worse than that. He had just gotten a taste of it and he knew he would be hooked on it. It came in the form of you, and gods was it dangerous.

There's a heavy silence between the two of you, broken by the sound of rustling as Mattheo sits up abruptly, a grin spreading across his face.

"Hey, wanna go closer to the edge of the lake? I think I saw something cool over there," he suggests, his tone playful as he nudges you with his elbow.

"What, are you trying to pull some sort of prank on me, Riddle?" You ask, your tone sceptical as you raise an eyebrow.

Mattheo feigns innocence, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "Who, me? Never," he replies with a smirk, his eyes dancing with mischief.

Despite your reservations, you can't help but be intrigued by Mattheo's suggestion, and with a shrug, you agree to accompany him to the water's edge.

You walk a few steps to the surface of the black lake, peering down at your own reflection for a second. You turn to Mattheo, caught off guard when he gives you a playful shove.

You yelp, reaching out instinctively to grab onto Mattheo as you lose your balance. Instead of regaining your footing, you find yourself slipping on the dampened grass near the edge of the lake and falling backwards into the water with Mattheo.

The icy cold water seems to seep into your body, eradicating any hint of warmth. You resurface with a gasp, brushing your wet hair away from your face as you tread water, your robe floating around you in the water.

Mattheo resurfaces moments after you, his curly brown hair now plastered against his forehead, droplets of water glistening in the fading light. He blinks the water from his eyes and looks at you with a playful grin.

“Why did you do that!” He gasps, though his tone is lighthearted and playful.

You roll your eyes, splashing him in retaliation. “You practically threw me in there! I just needed to find my footing!” You retort, indignified.

Mattheo chuckles, the sound echoing across the stillness of the lake. “Fair point.” He concedes.

Not a second later, however, he splashes you with water, somehow drenching you even further.

“Mattheo!” You gasp, sending a wave of water back at him. The two of you playfully fight in the water, and you laugh, head tilted back. It's a scene straight out of a childhood fantasy, the cares and worries of the world melting away beneath the warm glow of the setting sun.

Mattheo pauses, and his heart pounds against his sternum as he hears your laugh. It’s loud and it's unabashed, and it's the most perfect thing ever. You smile, and he feels as though he can't breathe, you had to have stolen his breath.

The golden rays of the sun illuminate your skin, catching in the droplets of water that cling to the wet tendrils of your hair. You looked like an image out of a Renaissance painting, and Mattheo is sure the sun must hide itself in shame, for on its brightest day it couldn’t compete with your radiance.

He takes in the way the fading sunlight casts a warm glow on your features, highlighting the curve of your cheekbones and the sparkle in your eyes. He’s sure the image must be etched into his mind, permanently engraved. He knows when he closes his eyes, all he will see is the image of you, and he doesn’t mind it one bit.

In fact, he welcomes it.

In your presence, he feels alive in a way he never has before. He will wake up tomorrow and face all the trials and tribulations the universe has to throw at him. For now, however, the sun is shining. The water is cold, but you make him feel warmer. The gentle sound of water sloshing about fills the silence, the horizon is beautiful.

Everything was alright.

@mildlyuninformative @chgrch @gillyweeds @anti-hero03 @schaebickel @lillywildly @multifandom-worlds

#slytherin #slytherin boys #tom riddle #harry potter #draco malfoy #lorenzo berkshire #slytherin boys fic #theodore nott #blaise zabini #pansy parkinson #mattheo x you #mattheo riddle x reader comfort #mattheoxreader #mattheo x y/n #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle fluff

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brideads · 1 month ago

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CHAPTER ONE: wonder2

m.list | main page

9:48 PM | celebrity crushes

"that's not a celebrity crush, yuta. where else have you even seen maki besides class and scamming old men on tinder—" nobara’s cut off mid-sentence by maki slapping her hand over her mouth, fake-smiling like she's totally calm.

"that’s enough from you," maki says with a forced laugh. "who’s next?"

her eyes scan the room like she’s hunting for her next victim. panda shoots his hand up, grinning like he’s about to drop the best answer of all time.

"johnny sins!" he proudly declares.

dead silence. everyone just stares at him. the room feels like it’s frozen in time.

panda looks around, his smile fading into a frown. "what? i thought this was a judgment-free zone."

yuji quickly jumps in to save the moment. "okayyy, who hasn’t gone yet?" his gaze lands on you, eyebrow raised, silently asking you the same question everyone's been asked, 'who's your celebrity crush?'

"uhh..." you shift awkwardly, looking away. but before you can answer, nobara answers for you.

"it’s spider-man," she says, and you immediately shoot her a glare.

"hey! i could’ve said that myself," you grumble, crossing your arms.

"spider-man? really?" maki raises an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. "literally no one knows who's under the mask."

"yeah, well... i don’t care about that. he’s just... cool, y’know?" you shrug, cheeks turning pink as you try not to look too embarrassed.

yuji, ever the backup, nods. "i’m with y/n on this."

maki raises a brow. "i thought you had a thing for jennifer lawrence?"

"what? no, i just mean i also think spider-man’s cool. like, how often do you see a vigilante swinging around?" yuji shrugs, trying to keep it casual.

before anyone can reply, the door clicks open, and everyone turns to see megumi stumbling in, looking all kinds of roughed up with a skateboard in hand. his eyes dart to the group, clearly confused by all the stares.

"what?" he asks, looking around at everyone.

"what happened to you?" nobara smirks, nodding toward his bruises.

"probably went skating again," yuta guesses, causing nobara to grin.

"what kind of idiot goes skating at night?" nobara says, turning back to megumi with a teasing look.

"i wasn’t ska—" megumi stops mid-sentence, catching yuji shaking his head just enough for him to notice. megumi sighs, dropping it. "nevermind."

he walks off toward the room he shares with yuji, leaving everyone else to exchange glances.

"moody," maki mutters under her breath, which earns a chuckle from panda.

11:12 PM | nobara & panda's karaoke session

"what the hell is this?" yuji mutters under his breath, eyebrow raised as he watches nobara belting into the mic.

"it’s called singing, yuji. you’re just jealous!" nobara shoots him a glare before jumping right back into her off-key performance with panda. yuji just frowns and goes back to his phone, clearly over it.

you, maki, and yuta are all lounging on the couch, with yuta snuggled up against maki. maki sighs, sitting up as she nudges yuji with her foot.

"yuji, it's freezing in here." she complains, turning her head towards him.

yuji grunts, not even looking up from his phone. classic.

"y/n, can you grab a blanket or two? i’m freezing my tits off." maki says, giving you a pleading look.

you just blink at her before letting out a sigh and standing up. "yuji, where’re the blankets?"

yuji doesn’t respond right away, eyes glued to his screen.

"hold on, i’m clutching this clash royale match," he mumbles, way too into whatever battle’s going on in his game. the room goes awkwardly silent (except for nobara and panda’s singing, which isn’t exactly quiet).

after what feels like forever, yuji finally points towards his room, still absorbed in his phone. you roll your eyes and make your way to his room, giving a light knock before the door swings open.

"what?" megumi’s standing there, eyebrow raised, looking as grumpy as ever.

before you ask for the blankets, you notice the bandage wrapped around his forehead—something you definitely didn’t see earlier. your eyes narrow in suspicion.

"what’s going on with you? you're, like, always bruised up. you know that's not normal, right?" you cross your arms, waiting for an answer.

"i guess." he shrugs, like it's no big deal, expression totally unreadable.

"are you running a fight club or something?"

he just stares at you, unamused.

"seriously?" he deadpans, eyebrow twitching.

"i mean, what else could it be?" you press, genuinely curious now.

there’s a brief pause before megumi sighs, clearly not interested in explaining his whole life to you. "is that what you came here for?"

"oh, right. do you have any spare blankets?"

megumi rolls his eyes and disappears into the room, returning with two blankets that he tosses at you before shutting the door. you head back to the couch, where maki's waiting with an impatient look.

"what took you so long?" she tilts her head, eyeing you suspiciously.

you just shrug and toss her a blanket, trying to act like nothing happened.

after a few moments of scrolling on your phone, you lean over to yuji. "hey, yuji... do you know what megumi’s doing to get all banged up like that?"

yuji’s eyes stay fixed on the wall for a second before he simply mutters, "i dunno," and goes right back to his game.

you sigh, leaning back into the couch as you pull out your phone again, scrolling through social media like nothing’s wrong, but you can’t quite shake the thought of megumi and his constant bruises.

extras!

panda u freak (guys he was just joking) maki at first thought yuji also had a celebrity(? if hes even counted as one) crush on spider-man... now is skepitcal i like to think they have karaoke sessions on the regular but its usually just panda and nobara (occasionally yuji too) megumi definitely crashed into a wall mid swing probably got distracted by a dog or something megumi is pierced up (prob just his ears) and is a skater MY AU MY RULES BOOOO everyone but nobara & yn failed that quiz god bless quizlet also i guess the majors theyre in is whatever the readers into idk yuji clash royale addict confirmed thanks miske for going over this 4 me lots of love

main page: here! a/n: hey guys.. lol.... i tried to keep megumi slightly in character guys I dont fricking know anyways I HOPE U GUYS ENJOY but this is slightly rushed cuz i started this at like 2 am the other day and continued it right before my friends bday party happy birthday to my goat a/n part 2: also the chapter name is based off of the girl group perfume... oh ayaka nishiwaki the woman u r 🤤🤤🤤 wait guys i hope ur not too disappointed w how shit my writing is i am sleep deprived blehhh taglist: @satoryaa @the-feral-president @qtnfer @stillnotherapy @azharyy @rijhi @digitaltrippers @walllflowerrrsss @anonymity-222 @mikikkoo @1l-ynn @2ukira @heyybaejjk @r0ckst4rjk @therealsatorugojo @cinnamontheevillittle @arionater @leaderwon @beepbopzlorp @megumiiislvr222 @chososcamgirl @drxgonspine @emostrawrobbery @essjujutsu @belovedbrinna @alsomimi @milkteeboba @izanacult @jaylenezzz @wooomymeow @lucentwings @startwithrecords @expiredbred @nishislcve @sonotpattismith @kiss-my-asscheeks @kyliexreads @jtoddlover @notveevee @2ukika @bunichuu @aegsland @swordymacaroni @laughingfcx @megumislovedoll red users indicate i can't tag you ! : ( pls update setting or tumblrs glitching idk

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bella-goths-wife · 5 months ago

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How alec, Johnny and Jane court Cullen reader

Warnings: obsessive behaviour, possessive behaviour, oblivious reader, inexperienced reader, mentions of abuse from Cullens

Alec:

Alec has to be subtle about his affections and intentions with you

Your ‘family’ already hate him, they have since the day Edward was introduced to the volturi and could report to the Cullens every thought alec has had of you

His courting had to remain subtle for his forbidden flower, for his sweet Juliet to his Romeo

He found that at first his best option for being close to you was ask for a dance at one of the balls that the volturi threw for the introductions of new members of big time clans

These balls were for the most part mandatory, meaning your family couldn’t just lock you away and you could spend time with other vampires with minimal fear

Alec would walk to to you with one of the volturi kings next to him so that If you accepted a dance with him, they could distract the Cullens long enough for Alec to slip the two of you onto the ballroom floor

He never was one for dancing before you, coming from a poor village in the medieval times he never really had to learn

Even after joining the volturi, he copied basic moves whenever he had to dance with someone for the sake of politeness

But after meeting you and realising that you came from a different time period to him, he begged some of the female volturi members to teach him some steps to dances from your time

He tried to master them but sometimes you still have to correct him, to which he’ll claim that you must be seeing things to save himself embarrassment

He also tried to learn courting culture from your time, but he never could do with all the politeness from it

He preferred being improper with you, it gave him the opportunity to see the real you

So he’d sneak up to your room after the Cullens locked you up for the night

He’d sneak through the window and the two of you would spend the night talking and laughing together, considering neither of you needed to sleep

It made him feel closer to you, made him feel special to have that time with you

He knew that no one else had that experience with you, and that made his worries of you being taken from him

He’s done everything in his power to make sure the vampire clans know that he has claim on you and is courting you, he’s seen the newer clans looking at you like a piece of meat and he thought it best to show who you belong to

If any others try and intrude on your time together, they’ll be hissed at viciously and the volturi kings will be told of the interference to their plan to match you with either Alec or Jane

His last act of devotion to you was to swear you that he will free you from the Cullens grasp, and you can only pray he’s truthful

Jane:

Jane isn’t the most loving person

She struggles to express most emotions, but showing her adoration and love is the hardest

So she tries to court you in more practical ways, such as acts of service

Anything that you need doing, she will have the task completed by sundown

Your struggling to find clothes because the Cullens only give you childish clothes? Jane had handmade clothes tailored to match and compliment your body type and skin colour and she leaves them in your room for you

You’re thirsty but you don’t have any blood to feed with? Jane killed a human for you two to share during your teatime

She even asks for it to be baked into pastry’s even though neither of you can digest food anymore so you both end up coughing it up

You need entertainment while you’re locked away in your room? Jane will sit outside your door and read your favourite books and poems to you and keep you entertained

She also tries to work on her physical affection for you

She offers you an arm when you walk together through the garden at night, she places her hand over yours when you need comforting, she will place small kisses on your hand when greeting you in private

These are all things she never thought she’d be comfortable with until she met you, so she’s slowly improving in private

When she’s feeling extra possessive, she will cover you head to toe in her signature scent either by spraying you with perfume or briefly holding you and rubbing her cheek against your neck

This means she can put a subtle claim on you to show that you are hers and that anyone who tries to touch you will feel the wrath of her painful stare

Her final act of devotion from when she saw you last was swearing to free you from the Cullens so the two of you could stay near each other forever

She does all of this and yet your still completely oblivious to the affections her and her twin hold for you

Johnny (post meeting you)

Johnnys methods of courting is mainly just trying to help you discover more of yourself and help you separate your identity from the one forced upon you by the Cullens

I suppose it would fall under the category of quality time as he will spend hours upon hours with you helping you learn a new skill or remember an old memory

He helps you acclimate to the more modern parts of society that the Cullens never taught you about, such as dating culture and party culture

He tries to find things for the two of you to do that he thinks you’ll enjoy the most

An example of this is him taking you to a petting zoo and letting you control all the cute animals because it made you feel better then hunting with the Cullens

He also used his power to his advantage and he will shape his shadows to make shadowy animal figures for you to admire

He will also get very secretly proud of himself every time he sees you’ve enjoyed yourself doing an activity he chose out

He’s also very big into PDA as he’s less afraid of what the Cullens will do to him

He’s always got an arm around your shoulders or waist when you walk or he’s holding your hand as you talk to each other

But always with permission, he understands that you can have a slight touch Phobia because of your time with the Cullens

He was also raised as a lord, so all of his courting will subconsciously be very gentlemanly despite his playful and rough persona

So that means the sidewalk rule is being obeyed, he’s always taking your arm when you walk together and he’s always generally acting with honour and decency

He’ll do all this and you’ll still swear that he hates you though

Thoughts guys? 😭

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1pepsiboy · 7 months ago

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Just Like A Movie (Matt Sturniolo fluff)

Description: After a morning of fliming, Matt wants to enjoy fall activites with his girlfriend (reader). Inspired the song by the Wallows and Matt's love for fall time.

Word count: 1.4K

Warnings: None, just fluffy and silly Matt!

A/N: This is my first Matt writing, so sorry if it's not totally accurate! Lol I do requests! Currently anything Chris, Matt, Nick, and Colby!

----

Matt, Chris, and Nick were filming a guess 21 different halloween candies challenge. You sat on the couch behind the camera, scrolling through your phone but periodically looked up to glance at your boyfriend. Who would cheese when you did. Sometimes you'd make a silly face or comment, distracting him enough they'd have to restart part of the segment. Finally, they finish and Matt was the one closest to getting them all right. It wasn't surprising since he'd won guessing 21 different drinks.

Matt makes his way to the couch and wrapped his arms around you immediately. He nustles his head into your shoulder for a couple minutes and you run your fingertips up and down his back. Then he gives you a quick peck on the lips, mostly because Nick and Chris were still in the kitchen and they would make jokes about it.

You lick your lips and furrow your brows. "Hmm... I taste Snickers? No, Reese's?"

"(y/n)!" Matt whines lightly.

"Wait, wait, wait." You kiss his soft lips again. "It's Kitkat!"

A giggle escapes Matt and he lightly rolls his blue eyes. "Can we go do fall things, babe? Get away from those idiots over there. I've had enough of them today."

Nick flips him off as Chris fake laughs and makes a face. "So unoriginal Matt."

Now you roll your eyes. "Let's leave these losers to their lame things."

----

"I can drive if you want, babe," you suggest as you make it out the door after Matt changed his outfit to fit the vibe more. It's early afternoon now and barely a breeze to make it feel like a real fall day.

He shoots you a side smile and unclips the keys from his jean beltloop. "No, that's okay, I don't mind."

The two of you get comfortable in the front seats, starting up the recent playlist you created.

"Where to first?" you ask.

"What about... apple patch? Wait, I mean pumpkin picking... Fuck, I mean apple picking and then a pumpkin patch."

You reach out and lace your fingers with his. "I'd love to go to an apple patch and pumpkin picking. Maybe hot cocoa after?"

He nods and you put in the directions for the nearest apple picking farm. The two of you sing along. And you couldn't help pointing out people going about their daily lives. It takes up most of your conversation before you arrive at the farm.

Matt locks the car before he clips them back on the their loop and takes your hand. The apple farm was free to anyone, but they had a jar and square for donations/tips. You take out your card for them to do a $5 donation, and Matt doubles the amount.

You take a small basket and pull him over to one of the trees. Unfortunately most of the reachable ones were picked. But both of you still attempt to get one or two by running and jumping. You know you look like idiots, however you didn't care.

Matt gets a video of you as you finally acquire an apple and show it triumphantly. "That's right. No tree is a match for me! This apple is my bitch." You bite a chunk of the crispy green apple.

Matt laughs. "Babe, we're supposed to save them to make caramel apples!"

Your eyes go wide and you laugh as you chew it to a point you could speak. "Sorry, I can get another one."

He slips his phone back into his pocket as he shakes his head. "Let's try a different tree.

The second tree was a similar situation despite it just being on the brink of fall. There were a lot of early birds.

This time you get a story of Matt snagging two apples and he tries to not show how out of breath he is. "Ahh! Hah! I got some."

The two of you try two more trees and manage to get a few more.

There was a station for you to either bag them right away or make them caramel or chocolate covered before leaving. You spend far too long deciding on how many should be caramel and chocolate, and what toppings should be on them. You think of each brother and friend that'll want one. By the end, there's only one left and neither of you made one for yourselves.

"You choose," Matt says, kissing your cheek.

With creative intuition, you make it half and half, then smear all sorts of toppings on it and present it. Matt rests his hand on top of yours and takes a bite out of it.

"Mm..." he nods and runs a half through his hair, most of falling back in place. "I like what you did with the caramel and chocolate."

You take your own, attempting to lick the excess off around your mouth. "Delicious."

Your next stop was at a nearby pumpkin patch, which was also a little picked over. But there were still enough to enjoy and walk around a little bit. You pick up a few of the biggest ones you could find to get photos with.

Matt pulls you in for a selfie. His eyes squint as the sun is directly in your eyes and fumbles backwards. This causes him to run into a bundle of baby pumpkins and his butt lands on top of the stems.

"Fucking shit!" He groans as he holds onto his ass and rolls over on the ground.

You hold back a laugh and help him up. He paces back and forth a couple times.

"I'm done with the pumpkins," he sulks.

"Let's get hot cocoa to make it all better," you baby, jutting out your bottom lip.

He tries not to laugh but it didn't work.

----

You enjoy a small walk as you sip on hot cocoa, the sun starts to go down. You hold the to-go cup tightly between your palms in the hopes to warm up your hands. You forgot to bring any sort of warm layer. Once the sun is gone, it feels like fall now.

Matt shoots you a concerned look. "Are you cold, babe?"

"A little, yeah," you laugh under your breath.

"Here, wear my sweater, (y/n)."

"No, it's fine."

It's too late, he already took his jacket off and pulls the vintage sweater over his head. You take the sweater and tug it over your short sleeve tee. The warmth of the material and from him wearing it all afternoon engulfs your entire body. It sends shivers down your spine from the temperature adjustment.

Matt has his jacket back on and wraps his arms around you, rubbing his hands up and down your arms. He kisses the crook of your neck. "Better?"

"Absolutely."

The two of you reminisce on your adventures of the day. Ultimately, though, it leads back to a few of the couples around you in the park. One were unashamedly having a full on make out session underneath a tree. Another were taking cutesy photos in matching outfits.

"You'll never catch us doing that," Matt comments.

You raise your eyebrows at him. "Did you forget the matching pj pants we had for christmas last year?"

"That doesn't count," he scoffs lightly. "It was only pants. I mean, like, top, pants, accessories, the whole fit. It's just cringy."

You giggle. "Whatever you say, Matty B."

"It is! Are you saying you want to do that?" He sips on his hot cocoa. "Cause that might be a deal breaker."

"Not seriously. More in an ironic way. Like those people on tiktok doing the 80s style photoshoots at JcPenny. Now that would be fun and not cringy!"

He shook his head. "No, nope."

"Come on!" you argue. "Think about the memories we could make!"

"Absolutely not, it would be embarrasing."

You roll your eyes. "That's kind of the point, babe."

"Still," he retorts.

"Fine." You sigh lightly. "I'll just ask Chris to do it with me. He won't care."

Matt shrugs, finishing the last of his drink, and tosses it into the nearest trash can. "Okay, you two have fun with that."

"We will." You do the same with your drink.

You sense Matt's a little down now and force him into a hug. "Thanks for today, babe. You're the best."

He falls into your body more and lets out a deep breath. "Any time, (y/n)."

#matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #fluff #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo fluff #apple picking #pumpkin patch #fall things #the wallows #Spotify

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skalfy · 10 months ago

Text

A Reputation for Good Taste

Misa x Reader, ~3.5k words, part 2/?

Part 1 here

Another part! Again, deeply unproofread, so apologies for any errors.

“I’m sorry, what??” Your friend made a show of rolling over to look directly at you where you lay, bundled in her bed. “You’re telling me that Alma cheated on you, then you drove her mistress home and somehow ended up seducing her into giving you free tickets to a football match? Actually, I’m not surprised about the Alma thing, sorry, but the rest is beyond me.”

“Maya!” You blushed hard. “None of that is what I said! Well, except for the Alma thing. I did not seduce María, and please don’t call her Alma’s mistress. All I did was drive her home and probably make her uncomfortable by crying about how I’m a bad aunt. She definitely only offered the tickets because she feels bad that my girlfriend cheated on me with her. It was so obvious that she thought she needed to do something to apologise.”

“If all she felt was guilty about Alma I hardly think she would go to the lengths she did, but out of courtesy to your broken heart,” she fixed you with a look, “I won’t argue about this right now.”

“Thank you, Maya.” You mumbled, then, “I don’t even know if my heart is broken. I’m angry at Alma for doing something so stupid to both of us, but it’s really been getting worse for a while, hasn’t it?”

“Oh honey, it has, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.” She lifted the covers between you. “Now come here and let me cuddle you.”

You rolled over and let her pull you against her chest, relaxing into the comfort of your friend’s arms.

“I think my heart broke a while ago, but I really wish we would talked instead of this.” She just squeezed you tighter and you drifted to sleep.

You awoke the next morning alone in Maya’s bed, the sounds of her in the kitchen with Marc, her boyfriend, faintly audible from through the closed door. Your first thought was about Alma, and whether she had bothered to say anything to you since you left the flat. You quickly found your phone and unlocked it, opening the messages app. At the top there was an unread message, but it wasn’t from Alma. You tapped it open anyway.

María: Hi, good morning! I hope you are feeling okay and that your friend is taking care of you. I talked to the club and the tickets will be no problem and no cost. I’ll give you the details later :)

María: Do you have a jersey for the game?

Maria: It’s El Clásico, you have to wear one.

You felt a blush rise as you read the first message. It was sweet, but you were also a little embarrassed to think that María knew you needed taking care of. You quickly typed out a reply.

Me: Thank you so much, you have saved my aunt reputation and Luisa’s trip! And I am okay, thank you for asking. Between my old friend and a certain new friend who has gone out of her way to do me a big favor I’m feeling better.

You wrote and deleted the last line several times before hitting send, unsure how María would take it. You didn’t have to wait long to find out, the little dots that showed she was typing popped up after just a few seconds.

María: I think your new friend would be very glad to hear that, and glad to hear she is your friend, even if the circumstances you met in were not ideal.

María: You didn’t answer my question, do you have a jersey?

There was no resisting the grin that spread on your face as you read her message.

Me: Luisa definitely has a jersey, I got her one for Christmas.

María: I didn’t ask if Luisa had one, I asked if you did ;)

Me: Hmm, I think I have an old Barça one lying around somewhere.

You figured if she worked for worked for Real Madrid she must have a healthy animosity for the rival club, and it wouldn’t hurt to have a little fun about it.

María: We will discuss that later, but I might let it slide if it’s an Alexia kit. Sounds like you are in need of something to wear on Saturday. Green or white?

Me: Green?

María: Yes, it will bring out your eyes. Good choice!

María: Meet me for coffee? I will give you the jersey. Before you ask, it doesn’t cost me, I promise :)

Your head was spinning, but somehow you didn’t really mind. You weren’t about to turn down the offer for coffee, if for no other reason than to buy María acoffee as a thank you.

Me: I’d love to. Let me know when and where, I am off work today so anytime works.

She sent a link to a cute looking coffee shop and said to meet her there at 3 before signing off to get back to some work. You were still giving your phone a bewildered smile when Maya opened the door to her room to check in on you.

“My god, please don’t tell me Alma has sent you some ridiculous make up text that has you falling back under her spell!” You looked up at her words, startled and confused.

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about the lovesick smile you were just giving your phone when I walked in.” You scoffed in response to Maya’s words, but still felt a sudden urge to keep your conversation with María to yourself until you had a better idea of what was going on.

“I’m just smiling at the death march sightseeing tour mum has the family on today. I was planning to meet up with them, but the play by play is equal parts funny and frightening.” It wasn’t really a lie, you knew your mother well enough to know that your prediction was probably true, and you really were going to meet up with them. It just wasn’t exactly what had you smiling, or the afternoon plan you were most looking forward to.

Maya looked like she might say something more, but a particularly loud clang from the kitchen had her hurrying quickly back out. Alone again, you decided it was long time to get yourself ready for the day.

Dressed and showered, you caught Maya and Marc as both were headed out the door to work. Maya had instructed you to be back for dinner with the two of them, but otherwise you had free reign and your spare key. Sipping the cup of coffee one of them had left on the counter for you, you pulled out your phone and called your mum.

A short itinerary run-down later, you had plans to meet up outside their hotel and a half day of sightseeing between you and your unexpected coffee plans. That left only one other call to make, and it was one you didn’t want hanging over your head any longer. You dialed the number and listened as it rang through three times before you heard the other end pick up. When she didn’t say anything, you spoke first.

“Alma.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” She answered, the guilt unmistakeable in her voice.

“I’m sorry, too.” You sighed. “It was a shitty thing to do, though. I didn’t deserve that.”

“You didn’t.”

“Did you want me to see? You had to have known I wouldn’t be out that late.” You couldn’t help but ask. Her silence was all the answer you needed. “Okay. I’ll stay at Maya’s another night, but can you have your things out after that?” Thankfully, she had moved in with you only a few months back when her lease ended. Almost everything was yours, and you wouldn’t have the added insult of losing your flat along with your girlfriend.

“Yeah, I’ll pack everything today. I really am sorry.” You could hear her holding back tears, and you were struck by a pang of affection and sympathy for her. As cruel as cheating on you was, the last few months had been hard for both of you, and falling out of love with her first hadn’t been particularly kind either.

“Thank you, Alma. I hope things work out for you.”

“You too. I’ll miss you.” She ended the call, and you felt the weight on your chest ease.

It had been a long morning with your family, but you were immensely happy to have spent the time with them. Mum’s heavy-handed tourguiding made everyone laugh, but she had done her research well, and you were glad for it. Even after living in Madrid for three years, you still hadn’t taken the time to see all the sights. Plus, everything was more enjoyable with Luisa dragging you along to point out the best bits. You walked double the steps, but it was worth it to be honored as the most interesting adult, and you loved any opportunity to hear more about what her latest activities and interests were.

Having arrived a few minutes early to the coffee shop, you were lost in reflection on your family’s antics when the light touch of a hand on your elbow pulled you into the present. You jumped a little at the contact, and felt the hand grip a little tighter to steady you. It only took you a moment to look up and catch the owner’s warm brown eyes. As soon as you recognized her, María tugged you forward gently into a hug, and you sunk into the contact.

“Hi.” She said, releasing you to arm’s length.

“Hi, how are you?” You responded a little breathlessly as her hands finally fell away from your arms.

“Better now.” She answered you with a smile. “Have you been here before?” You shook your head no, returning her smile. “Good. It’s my favorite and I’m glad I get to introduce you to it. Come!” She pulled the door open and gestured for you to step inside. Stepping through the entrance, you were hit immediately by the rich smell of coffee, and you paused to appreciate it. You looked over your shoulder as María entered behind you and spoke with joking reverence.

“I think I’m in love already.” She chuckled and nudged you ahead with her own shoulder.

“You haven’t even tried it yet, keep walking!”

The two of you approached the counter and greeted the barista. You inclined your head to María to order first, and after a moment’s hesitation, she requested a café con leche Before the barista could give her a total, you ordered your cortado, card already in hand to cover both. You turned to look at the woman next to you and she raised her hands in mock surrender.

“Any pastries you recommend?” You asked, still looking at her.

“Everything is good, but my favorite is probably the pear tart.” She answered, and you looked back to the barista.

“One of those too, please.” She nodded, then recited the total and let you hand her your card. After ringing you up, she retrieved your pastry and passed it over on a plate with two forks.

You followed María to a quiet corner with an empty table. She pulled out one chair before walking to the other side and sitting down.

“Can’t risk you dropping our tart.” She said with a wink when you gave her a look. You rolled your eyes, but still felt a blush as you set the plate down carefully and took your seat. Her fingertips quickly snagged the edge of the plate, sliding it to her side of the table. It didn’t exactly bother you, but with her earlier chivalry you weren’t expecting her to immediately lay claim to the shared treat. You watched as she industriously carved out a bite with one of the forks, clearly taking care to perfect the crust to filling ratio and center a perfect slice of pear on the wedge she cut. Her focus was charming, but your mouth was nearly watering waiting for your turn.

“You have to have the perfect first bite, my reputation for having good taste could be on the line here if you aren’t impressed.” She spoke as she finally lifted her fork, extending it toward you with a shy smile. There was a burst of warmth in your chest as you realized the care she had taken was for you, even if it was only to prove she made the best choice. You opened your mouth and closed your eyes, leaning forward slightly to meet her over the table. Her free hand was loosely cupped under the fork to catch any crumbs, and it brushed your chin gently as you closed your lips over the forkful of tart. You tilted your head back as María pulled the fork away, instinctively raising your own hand as well. The back of her hand was soft where your palm met it, and she let it rest against yours for a moment before pulling away. Her trailing fingers were far from your mind, however, as soon as you began to chew the bite of tart. The flavor was divine, sharp and sweet and fresh all at once, paired with a perfectly buttery-flaky-crisp crust. María let out a burst of laughter and a fist pump at the wide-eyed nod you gave her when she asked if her reputation was secure, which in turn had you covering your mouth as you tried to swallow through a growing smile.

A barista calling out your orders had María quickly standing, waving off your offer to help, and gave you a chance to sneak a second bite and collect your thoughts for a moment. You felt silly for being so charmed by María’s kindness, from her it seemed more like second nature. Her actions, while some were a little over the top, felt like they came from a combination of genuine thoughtfulness and her desire to make you laugh. It struck you after a second, you felt taken care of. Not in the big-gesture way that Alma always wanted you to exhibit, hinting at big gifts and dramatic arrivals at her office to sweep her away to Ibiza, but something much gentler. It was nice, you realized-- both to be taken care of and for the acts to be so unpretentious.

“For you,” a hand touched your shoulder and your cortado was placed in front of you, “and for me!” María set her own cup down and took her seat, smiling and waving her hand dismissively as you thanked her.

The conversation flowed once again between the two of you, and you enjoyed it even more than you had the previous evening in your car. You managed to draw out the tart, each taking smaller and smaller bites until finally María nudged the plate toward you and insisted you take the final piece. You brought out a chuckle from her by solemnly confessing that you’d taken an extra bite while she fetched the coffees, and she happily stole the plate back to finish it off herself. With the food out of the way, you were both focused on each other, and you felt the heat of her gaze as she listened carefully to everything you said.

You covered a wide variety of topics, learning about her family and friends, her love for music, and the meaning behind some of her tattoos. She didn’t speak much about her work, but you could tell she was driven and passionate. You shared plenty in return, her open interest in what you said and thoughtful questions leading you down plenty of tangents, including a retelling of your family’s antics that had you both laughing. The two of you were so engrossed in the conversation, that it wasn’t until your phone started ringing that you realized how much time had passed.

“It’s the friend I’m staying with, I better answer.” You told María, who gave you a thumbs up as you stood to move a few paces from the table before you answered. “Hi Maya.”

“Girl, where are you?” She asked, skipping over any greeting. You looked down at your watch and realized it was after six. Not time for dinner yet, but Maya was no doubt expecting you to be there when she returned from work. You caught María’s eyes on you and rolled your own dramatically at her as you replied.

“Sorry Mum, I’m out with a friend and we lost track of time. I’ll be back soon. Do you need me to pick anything up on the way?” You could very nearly hear Maya’s eyes narrowing on the other end of the line.

“What friend? I know all your friends, they’re my friends. Unless…” You winced as she trailed off, realizing you didn’t want to have this conversation within earshot of María. “You’re with Alma? Or Alma’s m—”

“Okay! We can talk about this later!” You cut her off firmly, feeling your face heat as you wondered how audible Maya’s voice was from your phone speaker. “Also,” you continued, thinking it might be best to clarify once and for all, “I ended things with Alma officially this morning, so safe to assume I’m not with her.” Maya’s honest-to-god cheer was a bit embarrassing, but you did feel a little like cheering yourself, so you chose not to mention it.

“I’ll expect all the details when you get here. Be safe until then, love you!”

“Love you too.” You ended the call, looking down at your phone a few moments longer than necessary before raising your head to look at María. She had an unreadable expression, but quirked an eyebrow at you when you met her eyes.

“Your friend seems very fun.” She said, then after a pause, “sorry to hear about Alma.” It felt like she was giving you the option to choose whether you wanted to talk about it, which you appreciated.

“I’m not really sorry,” you said, “it should have happened a long time ago.” María kept her gaze on you, not interjecting, face carefully neutral. It reminded you of when you first looked at her in your lobby. In a quieter voice, you continued. “I don’t wish it did, though.” María’s easy smile was familiar to you already, but her lips didn’t curve this time. You felt a strong urge to leave quickly, or even better, for the floor to open up beneath you. Closing your eyes, you heard the chair scrape as she stood. How predictably thoughtful of her to leave you to recover from your embarrassment. Just as you listened for her departing footsteps, you were caught off guard by two strong arms wrapping around you in a tight embrace. Your eyes opened in surprise, but it didn’t take you long to squeeze just as tightly back, relief coursing through you. María’s face pressed into the side of your neck, and you felt her speak, but the words were too muffled to hear. The two of you held each other close a while longer, before she pulled back enough to look at you.

“This might be the strangest friendship I’ve had, but I’m so glad I met you.” She said, smiling softly. You returned her smile, and couldn’t resist saying,

“maybe Alma did both of us a favor in the end.” She gave your shoulders a squeeze in lieu of answering, but spoke after a moment.

“I had better send you back to your friend before she grounds you, I would hate for you to miss the game because you aren’t allowed to leave your room for a week.” It made you laugh, but the possibility is more likely than you’d like to admit. Maya had a greater chance of grounding you than your own mother did, in all honesty. It’s enough to spur you into action, and, after returning your dishes to the counter, the two of you made your way out of the cafe. You hugged one more time, then parted ways, but a shout of your name had you turning around before you made it to your car.

“I almost forgot to give you this!” María held out a folded piece of bright green fabric to you. “It’s the whole reason I dragged you out here after all.” You took it from her and unfolded it, quickly realizing it was a Real Madrid jersey, though not in the colors you were used to seeing.

“I thought you were joking when you said green!” She laughed in response to your confusion and explained that it was a goalkeeper’s jersey, hence the bright color.

“I brought a regular one as well if you prefer.” She added, sounding a little uncertain.

“No way, this is much better,” you held it up to your chest, “does it bring out my eyes like you said?” She leaned in a little closer, reaching out to lift the fabric up to your cheek.

“Absolutely.”

That evening after you returned to Maya’s and took a longer look at the jersey you sent María a text with a picture of the back of the jersey.

Me: This Misa better be good if I’m wearing her name on my back

María: Don’t worry, I wouldn’t let you wear her name if she wasn’t

#woso x reader #misa rodriguez x reader #woso imagine #woso community #woso #woso fanfics

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