#and the STUPIDEST part is the way my silly little mind thinks of him as 'my boyfriend' even though we're not together?? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

system-of-avalon · 2 months

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(gn! pronouns for reader. student/teacher romance implied, but not official. satoru being sleepy. mostly fluff. angst if you squint. satoru being a lightweight with alcohol asfasdsa silly baby. satoru slowly falling for reader graahh)

Satoru knew from the moment he saw you how special you were.

Not because you were particularly strong, or had a super complicated technique, or had a particularly jarring past and circumstances that made you this way.

Many great minds have said that, to survive and to thrive in a world of sorcerers, you have to be selfish and self-centered.

It's like you entirely missed that memo, though.

You cared so much.

You cared so much Satoru even wondered how much you cared about yourself. You were always working hard, and protecting your teammates harder. You always wanted to be strong and show everyone they mattered. You lived everyday thinking on how to make this bleak world a tiny bit better, he guessed.

Satoru knew, from that moment on, that he had to have an eye on you constantly.

See, people don't give him credit for his people-reading skills. They think he is so full of himself, so used to seeing everyone from above, that he's uncapable of truly feeling attachment, or respect, or appreciation.

And sure, he is an ass sometimes. He enjoys, or straight up doesn't care, when he's being rude or annoying or disrespectful. Try as others might, that is a part of Satoru that would remain forever young.

But, in a month or so, he had you figured out. He had you figured out good.

Satoru had dealt with your type before, very closely after all.

He knew you little tics when you were lying. He knew how you looked when you were exhausted. He knew when you were putting your own health and well-being for later for the people you loved, he knew how you looked when you bottled your feelings too much. He was your teacher, after all, and he'd rather die than see the consequences of your own sadness spitting you on the face.

―You can tell me anything, you know?― Satoru spoke softly, reassuringly, in a deeper, more mature tone devoid of his usual mocking; though his usual teasing grin didn't disappear from his face. A hand ruffled your hair in fraternity before he stood up, stretching long legs with a quiet grunt. ―I'm your reliable, strong teacher Satoru Gojo, I can handle my favorite student's problems when they have one!―

He wasn't lying. Inadvertently, you had become his favorite.

If he went abroad, he would bring you the best souvenir out of all his students'. If he didn't bring the others any, he'd sneak some foreign sweets when you two were alone and share them with you, cackling as he made you promise not to tell anyone, "so his other students don't get jealous".

Speaking of being alone, that had, also, inadvertently become a thing.

Always the one to put effort until you couldn't physically fight anymore, you would approach Satoru with questions and seeking advice at least twice a week.

Also because of this, he had to be more present during your training and your missions to make sure you don't injure yourself from overworking.

―I want you to train, silly, but I don't want you to die on me while doing it!― He'd say, before sending you with a firm pat on the back to the showers, and to get a very well deserved rest in your bedroom.

He saw you grow. He saw you blossom into a capable, strong-willed, kind student. And sooner than later he found the stupidest reasons to be with you, just because he enjoyed your presence on its own.

When you went out to celebrate a successful mission, and Satoru offered to take you and the other students out to eat, he'd always sit beside you. He'd spend the night throwing jokes in your ear only you two would understand, talking about your shared interests and just having a good time in general.

Satoru was always one to enjoy the little pleasures in life, but when he was with you, he often forgot how easy it felt to just be himself.

Not the strongest man, not the Gojo clan's star child, not the future of sorcery. Just Satoru Gojo, and his silly love for Digimon and his extremely sensitive taste for alcohol.

―Oh c'mon~! I di'n't drink that much, f'real real...― Satoru rubbed the tip of his slender nose, which had become a slightly flushed, adorable baby pink from the wine he ordered at the restaurant. ―I'm a grown man, don't ya have more faith 'n me?―

He was scared. He was truly scared when he realized how comfortable he's grown around you.

Satoru was scared of loving anyone and anything because he couldn't stand to lose someone important to him again. But on top of that you were his student, for fuck's sake.

Sure he hadn't done anything inappropriate, or wanted to do anything inappropriate, but...

He couldn't deny how he'd melt when you laughed at his jokes a bit too hard. Or when you frowned and defended him, him, when someone bad-mouthed him.

You spoke nothing but praise about the man, as if you'd met him his entire life.

It seemed Satoru Gojo wasn't the only one with people-reading skills, and had spent quite some time looking into each other.

He remembers how one time, you failed to show up on time for your usual "extracurricular CE training sessions".

Satoru was exhausted from a few trips and missions and weeks of not sleeping more than a couple, sparse naps. Even he and his RCT had a limit, and despite not showing it, your teacher could get stressed out of his mind too.

He waited for you, for around ten minutes. Then decided to sit down for a bit, rest his legs and all that. Then, he crossed his arms over the desk. Then, lied his head down. Then, closed his eyes for a second.

Satoru was out cold before he himself could realize it.

Only to wake up with a blanket over his shoulders, a cup of mocha coffee still steaming, waiting for him; and you: Sitting on the back of the empty classroom, with the warm orange sunrays coming through the windows and lighting your silhouette in pretty colors, reading in silence.

And he remembers how you smiled as you looked up, and greeted him by saying his name in that sweet voice of yours, and just asked about his trip and scolded him for not giving you a call to say he was too tired for the lesson.

Satoru laughed it off then. But in reality, he was melting from the inside.

―Hah. I guess you're right. Though if you are going to take care of me this way, I might fall asleep in class more often,― the man laughed, peering at you from over his sunglasses with a tired smirk. ―Thank you for the coffee, by the way, angel~―

Satoru never felt comfortable sleeping around people. It was just that sort of habit that, despite knowing his CT will protect him even in his sleep, he couldn't break out of. Rarely did he shut his technique off these days since his teenager years.

You, as with many things, changed that for him.

Because you were such a sweetheart you couldn't trust him until you were sure he'd slept.

So when he was abroad, he'd call you before going to bed. If he didn't, you would assume he didn't plan to sleep, and you were allowed to call Satoru to chew his ear off until he did.

When he was at school, though, it was different.

He hated himself the first time you did it, but he hated himself more because he didn't do anything to stop you.

That one time you were lying down on the grass under the summer sun after a sparring session, and Satoru started to feel drowsy again.

You gently nudged him to lie his head on your lap, played with his hair, and God have mercy because he was a man gone.

―You're gonna get me in trouble―. Satoru's voice was no more than a quiet, raspy chuckle; something like the purr of a cat. He even kneaded the fabric of your blue uniform: Maybe to ground himself in the reality that this wasn't supposed to happen, maybe to force himself to like it less. ―Hmm... I didn't say stop, did I...?

He was so, so far gone...

🩷: My need to take care of Satoru just overwhelms me sometimes, my bbg I love him so bad sIR I LOVE HIM!!

🩷! EDIT: I'm most likely going to make this a series! Or at least put this all under one single plotline haha. Gotta think of an aesthetic name and probably an aesthetic of its own but I'll post about this dynamic often!

#with love - a 🩷#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #satoru gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #teacher x student #tw teacher x student #satoru gojo headcanons #satoru gojo hcs #gojo headcanons #gojo hcs #a🩷 archive #long post

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sugarcoated-lame · 8 months

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Life’s A Beach | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Single Dad!Bradley x Reader

This is the second installment of my single dad Bradley miniseries | part one | library blog

Summary: A few weeks have passed since meeting Bradley and Caroline, and what better way to spend time with the adorable father-daughter duo again than a day at the beach?

WC: 6K

Warnings: all of my works are 18+ minors DNI, shirtlessbradleyshirtlessbradleyshirtlessbradley, reader wears a bikini but there are no descriptions of body size/shape, mentions of food/eating, mutual pining, like one tiny mention of smut towards the end if you squint, I don’t really think there’s much else this is literally just straight up fluff, dilf Bradley just being the absolute sweetest, this part is much longer than the first bc I already had it written and then couldn’t help myself from adding almost 3k words while editing oops, once again I suck at titles and summaries :)

a/n: the header for this chapter was my first attempt at making a mood board, I hope y’all like it :) I love Dadley Dadshaw™️ and little Caroline so much, I couldn’t stop smiling while writing this chapter of pure fluff! If you enjoy it, please comment/reblog feedback is always appreciated. Thank you for reading! <3

•

You’re checking yourself in the mirror for probably the twentieth time when your phone buzzes with a text alerting you that Bradley is outside. You’d spent an embarrassing amount of time this morning trying on countless swimsuits in an attempt to find the perfect one.

It’s a sunny Saturday afternoon and with Bradley having the day off, and Caroline done with school for the weekend, he’d invited you to join them for a day at the beach. Since meeting them at the mall a few weeks ago when you’d helped reunite the father-daughter duo after the little girl had gotten lost, you’d maintained pretty regular communication.

The two of you had been texting almost daily, chatting about your days and getting to know each other a little better, and you were delighted to find out that Bradley did not, in fact, have a wife. He’d send you silly pictures of him and Caroline that never failed to make you smile even after a shitty day, and left you wondering how someone could still be so attractive while making the stupidest faces.

He told you a bit about his job — as not just a pilot like his daughter had told you when you met, but a fighter pilot, a naval aviator — and you told him about yours. You talked about your respective hobbies, favorite movies and your tastes in music among other things. Anything and everything that had come to mind, really.

Talking to Bradley was always easy. And there was definitely a bit of flirting. Okay, maybe a lot of flirting.

You’d also talk to Caroline too. She and Bradley had FaceTimed you a few times over the weeks and she’d update you all about how she was enjoying preschool so far, telling you that her daddy cried when he dropped her off on her first day — though, Bradley insists that he didn't — and about the new friends she’s made, before always asking when she’d get to see you again. You’d promised her, soon.

You’ve been pretty swamped with work, but you’re excited — if not a little anxious — to see them again. Though you hadn’t gotten another chance to see Bradley in person since that first day at the mall, your crush on him had grown exponentially. He was funny, charming, an amazing father to the sweetest little girl, and not to mention incredibly good looking.

Even through an iPhone camera, Bradley always looked so effortlessly gorgeous, his boyish smile and pretty eyes never failing to give you butterflies. You’d have to actively try not to swoon all the times he’d called you ‘sweetheart’ or said you looked pretty over FaceTime.

You could tell the mustached man liked you too, if his shameless flirting was anything to go by. He was too charming for his own good and he never seemed to fail to paint a blush on your cheeks. So, you want to make sure you look good when you join him and his daughter at the beach today.

You’d settled on a black bikini, the longline triangle top big enough to cover you up with enough cleavage to still be sexy, and the bottoms a little high waisted, the side strings pulled up high on your hips to accentuate your curves. You’d let your hair fall loose and flowing, and put on a light dusting of makeup.

After receiving Bradley’s text, you quickly throw on a matching black cover-up that ties at the front, your favorite pair of shorts and some flip flops, grabbing your bag and heading out the door.

Bradley’s waiting for you, leaned up against the side of his classic blue Bronco in a white and baby blue floral Hawaiian shirt — which you’ve learned over the last few weeks that he seems to own quite an array of, a pair of dark gray swim trunks that show off his muscular calves, and a pair of aviators shielding his eyes from the early afternoon sun.

His tanned features only seem to glow in the bright light of the sun, and as you watch Bradley’s face light up with a grin when he sees you, sandy curls blowing in the slight breeze, you have to clench your teeth to keep your jaw from dropping. God, he’s gorgeous.

“Hey, sweetheart. How are you?”

Bradley pulls you into a hug as soon as you reach him, and you happily wrap your arms around him. Inhaling his delicious scent and relishing in his warmth as you tell him that you’re doing good, before asking how he’s been too.

“I’ve been good, thanks. You look beautiful.” Bradley compliments you with a growing smirk once he releases you. You’re going to have to get used to the blush that seems to permanently reside over your cheeks whenever you are in his presence.

“You look– good too…” You trail off shyly, lips lifting into a sheepish grin as you push back some strands of hair that had blown in your face from the breeze, looking down at your sandal-clad feet.

Flirting with Bradley was much easier over text. You’re just thankful that his eyes are currently covered by his sunglasses, unsure if you’d be able to handle his deep, honeyed gaze on you right now without your knees buckling.

Bradley chuckles at your shyness, he loves how easily he can make you flush.

“Come on, I know someone is very excited to see you.” He places a gentle hand at the small of your back and leads you to the passenger side of the Bronco, opening the door for you. Your skin tingles with warmth where his hand had touched you as you climb into the passenger seat and Bradley closes the door for you.

Immediately upon entering the truck, you’re met with a high-pitched yell of your name. You turn around to see Caroline, all tucked into her car seat, sandy curls tied up in pigtails, and a tiny pair of aviator sunglasses that match her dad’s over her eyes. She really is Bradley's mini-me and you don’t think she could get any cuter.

“Hey, sweet pea!” She’d told you when you called her that on one of your FaceTime calls that that was her favorite nickname because peas are her favorite vegetable.

“You ready for a beach day?” You inquire happily, to which Caroline replies with a toothy grin and excited squeals of affirmation. She lifts her little aviators up onto the top of her head as she talks excitedly to you, while Bradley chuckles and begins to drive.

The two of you spend the entire drive to the beach chatting animatedly, Bradley chiming in here and there, but mostly just enjoying listening to the way you happily field the kind of questions and roundabout rambling that can only come from a four-year old.

He swears that his heart is going to explode out of his chest seeing how great you are with his daughter. How much Caroline already seems to love you, and how much you seem to love her too.

***

Upon arriving at the beach and finding a spot for the Bronco in the moderately crowded lot, Bradley quickly leaps out of the driver’s side to open your door for you, eliciting a bashful smile and quiet ‘thanks’ from you as he takes your hand in his much larger one to help you down.

When your feet are safely on the ground and he’s closed the door behind you, Bradley makes his way to the back door to help Caroline — who is bouncing her little legs and practically vibrating with excitement – out of her car seat.

The three of you make your way up to the beach, Bradley carrying a large cooler that he procured from the trunk. And while you try your hardest to not drool over his impressive arms, you hold a large tote that’s filled to the brim with a blanket, towels, Caroline’s countless beach toys, and an umbrella sticking out of the top in one hand, and Caroline’s smaller hand in your free one.

It’s only a short walk, and the second your feet touch the sand, Caroline’s little hand releases yours as she bounds ahead of you and her father in search of a good spot to set up.

Bradley lets out an exasperated sigh and lifts up his sunglasses, sharp eyes trained ahead to follow his daughter’s bouncing pigtails as she runs along the busy beach. “God, she’s really gotta stop doing that.”

Holding back a giggle — because you know firsthand that Caroline wandering off is a fairly common occurrence — you look up at Bradley with a sympathetic pout.

“Yeah, but if she didn’t do that, you never would’ve met me.” You shrug matter-of-factly, lips tugging up at the corner on their own accord.

Bradley can’t help but chuckle at that.

“I guess that’s true,” the playful smirk growing on your face draws a matching one onto his lips. “But, sooner or later, she’s gonna give her old man a heart attack.”

You join him in his laughter as you continue walking toward the empty spot where you see Caroline has stopped, bouncing on her feet and waiting for the two of you with an adorable toothy grin.

“You’re not that old.” With a playful roll of your eyes, you lightly smack his shoulder.

Once everything is set up – the blanket laid out along the sand and held down at the corners by the heavy cooler and the tote, the large beach umbrella creating a nice bit of shade, and Caroline’s various toys already scattered about — Bradley kicks off his flip flops and reaches up to begin unbuttoning his Hawaiian shirt. Dropping his aviators onto the blanket along with it, leaving him in just his dark gray swim shorts with his torso bare.

Whoa. You thought he was hot with his clothes on, but you nearly went into shock upon seeing him without them. You knew Bradley was obviously in shape — you could see that even under the Hawaiian shirts and soft looking Navy tees he always wore over Facetime – but you didn’t know he was that muscular.

All golden skin and rippling muscles, broad shoulders and strong arms. Almost ridiculously toned abs and thick thighs leading down to shapely legs, Bradley looked like he was sculpted by the gods. Though he was a father, he certainly did not have a ‘dad bod’. You guessed that his elite naval training must be to thank for that.

In the hopes of distracting yourself — and to stop yourself from frothing at the mouth over Bradley’s physique, you decide to focus on applying the sunscreen that you also found in Bradley’s beach bag. You remove your cover-up and shimmy out of your shorts, already enjoying the warmth of the afternoon sun blanketing the newly exposed skin.

Holy shit, Bradley has to stop himself from saying out loud as he catches a view of you in your bikini.

The way that the black fabric fits your body perfectly, just a hint of your plush breasts visible in the triangle top and the high-cut bottoms with little strings that cinch in at your waist accentuating your curves in all the right places, has Bradley’s heart beating faster and his cheeks heating up with a flush that he knows is not just a product of the bright sun.

He feels like he might start drooling at any moment as he takes in the sight of your skin – so much skin, and he wants to know if it would feel as soft as it looks, under his fingertips.

He watches in awe as you begin to apply your sunscreen, delicate hands smoothing over planes of skin, and Bradley wishes he could replace them with his own. He needs to stop ogling you before his swim trunks begin to show the evidence of just how much you’re affecting him.

When you’re finished lathering yourself in sunscreen, Bradley’s heart starts clenching in his chest for a whole different reason as you offer to help Caroline apply hers. She accepts your offer without hesitation, head nodding a mile a minute and that big grin that never fails to make Bradley’s heart melt on her sweet little face, and he swears she’s never taken to anyone — not even the Dagger Squad — so quickly.

He gazes on, eyes with wide adoration as you kneel down to meet his daughter’s height, gently – and oh so patiently – rubbing the cream onto the baby-soft skin of her arms and legs as she jumps and squirms around, her golden brown curls bouncing, the impatient four-year old ready to take off like a tornado down the beach.

Bradley can’t help but admire the sweet smile that overtakes your face and your soft laugh as Caroline scrunches up her adorable little button nose while you apply the sunscreen to her face, and he swears his heart grows three times its size when he hears the giggles bubbling out of his little girl’s mouth as you playfully pinch her nose and let her know that you’re done.

“What do we say, Caroline?” Bradley asks his daughter before she has a chance to run off in her excitement. His tone is slightly stern and his hands are on his hips, though a smirk is tugging at the corner of his lips as he squints against the bright sun to look at his daughter who returns his gaze with a wide-eyed, almost caught-out expression.

“Thank you!” Caroline turns back to you and wraps her arms around your neck in a quick hug that makes your heart melt.

Before you can hug her back, she races over to her dad and hugs her arms around his hips, her little head resting on his taut belly as she looks up at him with those big, brown puppy dog eyes that rival his own.

“Can we go in the ocean, Daddy?”

When Bradley lovingly strokes the crown of her head and grins down at her, you swear you could cry from how adorable the two of them are. “Of course we can, Bug.”

Then, Bradley lifts his little girl off the sand – and she looks so tiny in his arms – and you can’t help but giggle at the two of them as he leans down to blow raspberries on Caroline’s tummy through the fabric of her ruffly lilac bathing suit, high-pitched squeals and shrieking giggles leaving her as she flails in his hold, breathlessly yelling, “Daddy, stop!” while he continues to tickle her.

“Alright, alright. I’m done.” Bradley chuckles, only stopping when one of Caroline’s flailing limbs nearly hits him in the face. He presses a kiss to one of her flushed cheeks, and then the two of them are looking at you with matching grins.

“You comin’, sweetheart?” The term of endearment makes your heart flutter. You glance between the two of them, holding back a laugh at the four-year old that’s buzzing with excitement in her father’s arms.

“I think I’m just gonna relax here for a bit and soak up some sun, but you two go ahead!”

Bradley looks down to where you sit on the beach blanket with an appraising look as you smile at the two of them, a hand hovering above your squinting eyes to shield them from the sun, and you could swear you catch his eyes trailing down the line of your body for just a second before returning to yours. “You sure?”

“Yeah, you two go! Enjoy some father-daughter time.” You nod, a pretty smile on your face, and the playful wink you send his daughter has Bradley’s swim trunks feeling the slightest bit tighter again. Yeah, maybe a few minutes apart from you would do him some good.

Little does Bradley know, your reasoning for staying back is similar to his for not arguing with that. You need a moment to yourself to refrain from doing something stupid – like trying to lick his abs or climb him like a tree – if you have to be up close to him and his gorgeous body for one more second.

You relax onto the blanket, your face hidden under the shade of the umbrella as you watch Bradley take off toward the ocean with Caroline still in his arms, the little girl giggling the whole way there.

You watch on adoringly as Bradley plays with his daughter, chasing her around on the wet sand and scooping her up in his strong arms, spinning her around and dunking her partially into the water. The two of them run through the waves, splashing each other, all smiles and laughs the entire time.

In just the brief time that you’ve known them, it’s very easy to see that Bradley’s daughter is his whole world.

When they return a while later, Caroline sprints ahead of her dad to reach you on the blanket where you’re already waiting with a smile to hand her her beach towel that has cute little frogs printed all over it.

Bradley reaches the two of you a few moments later and your arm freezes mid-air as you reach up to hand him a towel as well, too distracted to even ogle over his glistening, wet skin as you notice the red shade that’s beginning to take over the skin of his cheeks and his broad shoulders.

“Bradley, you’re all red! Did you put on any sunscreen?” You question with a breathy laugh, though Bradley can see the concern in your eyes as he takes the towel from your outstretched hand and begins to dry the water droplets on his tanned skin.

Before he can respond that he had, Caroline chimes in. “Daddy says he burns if he even looks at the sun!” She exclaims through her giggles.

You laugh along with her for a moment before fixing him with that cute, sympathetic pout again that makes Bradley’s heart flutter in his chest.

Before he knows it, you’re reaching into the beach bag for the tube of sunscreen and standing to be closer to his height – though he’s still got quite a few inches on you.

“Here, let me-” You squeeze some of the sunscreen out onto your fingers, and then your delicate hands are working the cream into the skin of Bradley’s face and his cheeks are, again, warming even more and not because of the sun.

His skin tingles where your light touch had been, and Bradley thanks whatever gods are out there that Caroline jumps in and insists that you build a sandcastle with her before you get a chance to start working the sunscreen onto his shoulders. He doesn’t know that he could handle you touching him any longer without saying or doing something stupid.

“Thanks, sweetheart. I think I can take it from here.” Bradley’s tone is flirty as he holds a hand out for the tube of sunblock, fingers grazing yours, and his lips turn up in a smirk at the flush developing on your own cheeks as you nod back at him. And he can’t suppress the quiet chuckle at the stumble in your steps as you make your way back over to Caroline to get to work on your sandcastle.

After applying the sunscreen to his own shoulders, Bradley sits down in the sand to join you and his daughter.

“Daddy! We’re building the world’s biggest sandcastle!” Caroline exclaims, filling up her bucket with sand. “It’s gonna be bigger than you!”

Bradley lets out a throaty laugh, “Yeah, I’ll bet!” He looks to you and the two of you grin at each other conspiratorially. “Can I help?”

Once the three of you have built – and demolished, a la Caroline jumping straight onto it – the “biggest sandcastle she’s ever seen”, she and Bradley convince you to get in the water with them.

You all play a game of tag in the shallows, Bradley stopping to lift his daughter out of the water every so often when there was a large wave, before you and Caroline decide to gang up on Bradley to splash him with salty seawater until he’s soaked and looking at the two of you with a pout that you want to kiss right off of his lips.

Then, Bradley’s pout quickly morphs into a mischief-filled grin, a matching one growing on his daughter’s face as you look between them, the two of them seeming to have a sort of silent conversation.

“What are you-” Before you can finish asking the question, you let out a yelp as a strong pair of arms wraps around your waist and lifts you into the air, both Bradley and Caroline laughing like hyenas as the four-year old begins splashing you with water, and you can’t help but laugh along with them as you squirm under Bradley’s very strong grip.

All too soon, Bradley’s arms are releasing you, but he keeps a steadying hand on your waist as he settles you back onto your feet. His whiskey-hued eyes peering into yours and you can only gaze back, left a bit breathless, your skin set alight with butterflies where his large palm had been even when he’s no longer touching you.

“Daddy, I’m hungry!” Caroline announces, tension in the air dissipating as she jumps up and down between the two of you, tugging on the hem of her dad’s swim trunks.

You can breathe again as Bradley chuckles at her and finally shifts his gaze away from you, pushing back some of the wet curls that are stuck to her forehead. “Yeah, me too. Lead the way, Bug.”

The three of you make your way back up to your little setup on the beach, the little girl tugging you along with a hand wrapped in yours.

Bradley produces a few little packs of apple slices and the three sandwiches he’d packed earlier that morning from the cooler, peanut butter and jelly – Caroline’s favorite, as you’ve learned over your many facetime calls with the father-daughter duo and giggled at the four-year old’s jelly-covered face, where you let them know they were one of your favorites too.

“Bon appetit.” Bradley chuckles, holding out one of the plastic wrapped, diagonally cut sandwiches to you, a slightly sheepish smile coming over his mustached lips. “I know it’s not much, but-”

You cut him off with a shake of your head before he can finish his statement, and meet him with a sincere grin. “It’s perfect.”

He hands Caroline the one sandwich that has the crusts cut off and a packet of apple slices, and then pulls out an ice cold bottle of water for each of you, and a juicebox for his daughter.

While Caroline sweetly asks you to put the straw into her juicebox for her, Bradley pulls out one last thing from the cooler that has your heart leaping in your chest when you turn to notice him place something down in front of you.

A bottle of your favorite iced tea. Something you’d never explicitly mentioned to him, but that Bradley had noticed you always seemed to be drinking on your video calls with them. It’s such a simple gesture, and yet you feel like you could cry at the sweetness of it.

Bradley’s chest swells with pride as you pin him with a bright smile, eyes full of adoration. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you, sweetheart.” Bradley sends you a wink that sends your heart into overdrive as he takes a bite out of his sandwich.

Bradley admires the two of you as he sits and eats his PB&J. His daughter is once again talking at you a mile a minute in that adorable, roundabout way that only little kids do as you follow along enthusiastically with a smile, you gently wiping jelly from Caroline’s face with a wet napkin and making sure that she drinks her water when you notice her cheeks getting a bit flushed.

“Just like her daddy.” He listens to you tell Caroline with a playful shake of your head, and the wink you send in his direction has Bradley swearing internally that he’s going to die, and he can’t help but think that he’d be more than happy to do this all the time.

After spending a while longer on the beach – you and Bradley sat on the large blanket chatting and watching Caroline play and build her own little castles with her pail and shovel, the three of you jumping in the water one more time, and you hiding your snickers behind your hand while Bradley tries to convince Caroline that it is not a good idea to bury him in the sand – the sun is just beginning to set.

And though he doesn’t want this day to end, Bradley decides it’s time to head home when he notices his four-year old rubbing her eyes and starting to yawn every couple of minutes.

You help him pack everything up and then the three of you make the trek back to the car, Caroline half asleep on her dad’s broad shoulders, while you walk close by Bradley’s side in a peaceful silence.

Caroline falls asleep almost instantly once Bradley gets her settled into the Bronco in her car seat, and you can’t help but coo at the adorable little girl when you turn back to look at her from the passenger seat.

The drive back to your apartment is a peaceful one, the sun still setting and bathing everything it touches in its dying golden glow — including Bradley — and you find it hard not to stare at his exquisite side profile as he bops his head along to the classic songs that play quietly from the radio as the two of you chat idly, low enough to not wake up the sleeping little girl in the backseat.

When the Bronco comes to a stop in front of your apartment, the sky has almost fully darkened and neither you or Bradley move for a long few moments, neither one of you really wanting to say goodbye, not quite ready for this perfect day to end yet.

Bradley clears his throat and turns his gaze to you with that boyish, mustached grin that sends butterflies coursing through your system and the smile you meet him with is an easy one.

“Thank you for coming today,” Bradley’s voice is quiet, raspy and deep and heat pools in your tummy as he continues to speak. “Caroline had a blast. She really likes you.”

His statement has you glancing back at the sleepy four-year old and beaming with adoration when you turn back to reply, “I really like her too. And, I had a great time. Thanks for inviting me.”

Bradley’s smile turns more playful as he nods his head, his honey brown eyes peering deep into your own as he quietly speaks again. “I really like you too.”

With the pulsing in your ears from your heart practically beating out of your chest, it takes you a few long seconds to reply and all you can manage to get out is a whispered “Yeah, me too…”

Your voice trails off and and your smile turns sheepish, gaze tilted down toward your lap to hide the obvious flush you know is blooming on your cheeks.

Bradley’s grin only broadens, eyes full of mirth at your sudden shyness.

“Can I walk you to your door?” His deep voice sends a shiver down your spine and you don’t really trust yours to be steady with him looking at you like that, so you simply nod in response.

After Bradley checks behind him to see that his daughter is still sleeping soundly in the backseat, he unbuckles his seatbelt and quietly hops out of the Bronco. He quickly makes his way over to the passenger side to open the door for you and help you down from his truck.

With one last look through the window at Caroline, Bradley locks up the Bronco and you begin the short walk to your door. The two of you are trailing along the concrete path slowly, Bradley’s palm hovering at the small of your back to guide you and warming your skin through the thin fabric of your cover-up.

You hesitate when you reach your front door, leaning your back against the hardwood to face Bradley, still not quite ready to cut your time with him short.

Peering up at him through your lashes, you thank Bradley before letting him know again, “I really had a great time today.”

“Yeah, me too, sweetheart.” You could swear he’s really trying to kill you every time he uses that nickname. “We should definitely do this again sometime.”

Your voices are both still quiet, as if to not disturb the peaceful, but intense atmosphere that’s built around the two of you.

“Yes, we should.” You nod your head, bottom lip caught between your teeth as Bradley’s eyes peers into yours, pools of molten honey searching your expression.

Whatever he’s looking for, he seems to find it. One of his big hands reaches up to cup your cheek, large palm splaying across the smooth skin and long fingers reaching into your hair, and he loves the way you instantly lean into his warm touch.

Bradley just admires you for a long moment, his heavy gaze trailing down from your pretty eyes to your plush lips, further to where your chest is rapidly rising up and down under your sheer cover-up as your breath quickens, and then back up again to see the look of want in your dilated eyes.

When he can no longer take the tension that’s been building up between you all day, Bradley takes a step closer, leaving only a few inches between the two of you. He leans down and the hand on your cheek guides your lips up to meet his in a kiss that’s sweet, but firm, and all-consuming.

Your lips move softly against his, one of your hands lifting up to wrap around the wrist of his hand that still cups your face. His pulse under your fingertips grounding you as you sigh into the kiss, and you think you could get lost in him.

His lips, gentle and languid as they press against your own, the hairs of his mustache tickling your skin, and the comforting scent of him surrounding you — the spicy cologne that still lingers on his clothes, a hint of sweat mixed with the fresh, beachy scent from a day spent on the sand and sea, and something that’s just Bradley.

When Bradley deepens the kiss, lips moving more fervently against your own, your resulting whimper has him crowding you against the door, no longer an inch of space left between your bodies as his broad chest presses against yours, his free hand coming to grip at your waist.

Bradley’s tongue trails the seam of your lips, begging for entrance that you grant him without resistance, swallowing his deep groan as your free hand reaches up to his hair. Your fingers tangle into the strands, his waves extra defined from the salty sea water, fluffy from the beach and now, you.

As your tongue glides along with his, Bradley’s strong hands now both squeeze at your waist, trailing down your sides until they reach the backs of your thighs. He effortlessly lifts you into his strong arms, never breaking the kiss, and your legs wrap around his waist as the weight of his body presses you harder into your front door.

Things continue on like this — for minutes or hours, you’re not quite sure as you completely lose yourself in the feeling of Bradley’s kiss — only getting deeper, hungrier, more frenzied. Your lips never parting from Bradley’s despite the burning that’s beginning to grow in your lungs, thighs clenching around his hips in search of even a hint of friction to curb the arousal that’s building in your core.

Bradley finally pulls away when the lack of oxygen gets to be too much. Your lips chase his, the little whimper you send him when his mouth is no longer on yours, going straight to his cock that’s pressed against your hip, straining against his already-tight swim trunks, and his head is spinning from the way your lips trail down to press gentle kisses to his jaw.

He wishes he could take you inside your apartment — to your bed, and he would have, but it’s then that he remembers his four year-old daughter is asleep in the backseat of his car.

Bradley’s forehead presses against your own and he breathes in deep before exhaling a deep sigh to steady himself. After pressing one last peck to your lips, he sets your feet back down on the ground. He takes a step back to look at you, hands hesitating to leave your waist as he doesn’t want to stop touching you yet.

Your expression is dazed, lips are swollen and eyes blown wide, your heaving chest matching his own as you take the oxygen back into your lungs, and Bradley can’t help but pull you in one last time with a hand on the back of your neck to kiss you breathless — again.

When he pulls away this time, Bradley hardly gives himself a moment to catch his breath before he pants out, “Can I please take you on a date?”

You nod your head near-frantically and you laugh just as breathlessly. “I was starting to think you’d never ask.”

Bradley chuckles, gazing down at you in adoration, his thumb that reaches up to caress your cheek and his next words draw a blush to your cheeks.

“Believe me, I’ve wanted to for weeks. Since the first day that we met you.”

You turn your head to press a sweet kiss to Bradley’s thumb.

“You could have. I definitely would’ve said yes.” You reply with a bashful smile.

“Yeah, I’m a bit off my game. I haven’t really done this in a while if I’m being honest.” Bradley admits a little sheepishly and you nod along, encouraging him to continue.

“I haven’t dated much since Caroline. She’s kinda become my whole world.” He scratches the back of his neck, feeling a bit awkward and hoping you don’t think that’s pathetic.

You take his hand in yours and smile at Bradley, eyes shining bright in what can only be described as admiration.

“You’re an amazing father, Bradley. You're so dedicated to Caroline and that’s one of the things I love most about you.”

You give his hand a gentle squeeze as you gaze up at him, leaning up on your tiptoes to place a gentle kiss on his sun-reddened cheek. “And I definitely want to go out with you.”

“Thank god.” The pair of you let out relieved laughs at his words. Bradley’s hands reach out for your waist once again. “Come here.”

Bradley leaves you with one more passionate kiss that ends way too quickly for either of your liking and a ‘Goodnight, sweetheart’ that paints a blush on your cheeks.

After making sure that you’re safely inside your apartment, Bradley strides back to the Bronco, unable to wipe the grin from his lips. With a glance in the rearview mirror at his baby girl still sound asleep in her car seat, he begins the short journey back to their home, a goofy smile on his face for the entirety of the drive as he thinks about how he’s going to take you on the perfect date.

•

Thank you for reading! x

Don't forget to comment/reblog if you enjoyed, feedback is always appreciated! I've got one more part planned for this little series, it's not written yet but I hope to get it out to you guys soon <3

tag list: @wkndwlff @sebsxphia @chaoticassidy @dempy @ohgodnotagainn @shanimallina87 @mavrellover91 @memoriesat30 @that-bitch-bri @classyunknownlover @hisredheadedgoddess28 @foreverrandomwritings @lt-spork @princess76179 @gigisimsonmars @kidd3ath @averyhotchner @sammyrenae68 @tv-fanatic18 @one-sweet-gubler @kmc1989 @avengersfan25 @fictionalmenloversblog @a-court-of-roscoe-and-baby @praline357 @girlsclub2004 @misshoneypaper @diorrfairy

also tagging some people who reblogged/commented on part one: @bitter-post-millennial @rhettabbotts @hangmanssunnies @milestomaverick @becks-things @indynerdgirl @perfectprettypisces @annathesillyfriend @southpawbitch @colourfulsuitwonderland @wildxwidow @roger-that-cap @ineedtosusoutmyreadinglist @valhallaas @mayari-tala @teacupsandtopgun @dorothychxca @fangirlvoice @jjenjoysthings @kmc1989 @rosiahills22 @je-suis-prest-rachel

#bradley bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader #top gun maverick #bradley bradshaw fluff #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw x y/n #Bradley Bradshaw x you #rooster #rooster bradshaw x female reader #rooster bradshaw x you #top gun fanfiction #miles teller #dad bradley #single dad bradley #my writing

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seelestia · 1 year

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— 𝐈 𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔. (𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐑)

SUMMARY. playing a silly pick-me-up game with the wanderer is all it takes for him to realize that he is a liar and he hates you (this is a lie). (1.0k+ words)

CHARACTERS. scaramouche / kunikuzushi / wanderer + GN!reader.

GENRE. fluff.

CW. set after the events of sumeru's archon quest, reader says one attempted corny line, scara is called kunikuzushi here, light references to scara's lore.

THOUGHTS. an offering to scaranation because this man has been on my mind without paying rent (disrespectful btw /j). also, this work is inspired by this tiktok! <3

(+ tagging @medeaheartly aka the most persistent scara stan i know. ily, jae <3)

✰ masterlist.

"This is stupid."

KUNIKUZUSHI has lived for half a millennium and this is, by far, this is the stupidest thing he has ever heard — or rather, the stupidest idea that has been suggested to him.

After all, who even thinks that sitting down together and saying what you like about yourself is a good idea?

Not that he has heard many in his life; the Balladeer was known for coming up with his own ideas and executing them to perfection himself. If a subordinate even dared to utter any sort of suggestion, he'd make sure those were their last words. What, did they think he was incapable of thinking for himself?

...Or at least, until now after the Balladeer became a discarded identity, a fragment of his past. But still, it doesn't mean he is fond of this particular idea and what is more stupid is that he can't even object to it.

Well, he can just outwardly say no if he wants to. There is nothing here that is stopping him technically... Oh, but there is one obstacle, you see.

You are holding his hands in yours — and the most mortifying part here is that he doesn't want you to let go.

Ugh. Holding hands is such an unnecessary and useless step, he scoffs to himself.

Although Kunikuzushi said all that internally, he doesn't do a spectacular job at concealing his annoyance well. It is portrayed there so clearly across his face like a stroke of bright color on a blank canvas that you can't help but frown.

"Well, Nahida said it'll help. So, it won't hurt to try once, right?" You then give his hands a gentle squeeze, just a little gesture to pass on a sense of encouragement through your linked fingers.

But it is more than just "a little gesture" to Kunikuzushi because for one moment, he almost wants to retract the last statement he said about holding hands. Almost.

"...Fine," he mumbles sharply.

"Good," you nod in response, but he doesn't miss the hint of enthusiasm in the way you do it. "I'll start first," you say, the ends of your lips starting to curl into a smile.

Is that smile supposed to be intentional or not? He can't tell, but what he can tell is that he already dislikes this stupid game.

He dislikes it because he can't understand why he is holding onto your every word in anticipation. Kunikuzushi can't fathom just why exactly is he so curious about what you like about yourself? Whatever, it isn't as if he cares that much, hmph.

"I like..." You trail off and the male listens intently, way more intently than he expects himself to. "—Your smile," you end your sentence with an ounce of satisfaction so evident in your tone.

All the amount of focus he invested gone to waste just for you to say that? "Tsk, you're the one who wanted to play this game so much. At least, stick to the rules, idiot," he grumbles lightly.

He wants to come off as indifferent, but the way the lightest shade of red begins to graze his cheeks betrays him. Kunikuzushi averts his gaze away from you behind the pretense of rolling his eyes. By all means, he thinks your attempt was terrible; after all, he rarely ever smiles but you've seen him smile before, even if it was once in a blue moon.

...You can't actually mean that corny line in a genuine way, can you? No, that must be a ruse to catch him off guard, he is sure of it.

"Okay, okay," you seem to find enjoyment in his reaction, letting out a chorus of amused giggles. At this point, Kunikuzushi doesn't even dislike this game anymore, he hates it now — and that stupid lightness in your voice as you laugh, he hates that too (what a weird thing to point out).

"I'll do it for real this time," you stifle another giggle before eventually retiring from your fit of laughter. "You better," the male in front of you scrunches his nose in, what you assume to be, a menacing way.

Intent on keeping your promise, you take a deep breath, "I like..." For some reason, your gaze just lands on him as if on instinct as you continue, "—My eyes."

And to Kunikuzushi, too, it is on pure instinct when his own pupils suddenly look up to meet yours. Your eyes, you say? He examines the subject of your words closely, indigo irises clashing against [E/C] ones.

There, inside them, his reflection almost seems to drown completely in the colour of your irises. A brilliant [E/C] color surrounds his figure at the sides, not as if it wants to consume him but to douse him in that very same color. Kunikuzushi used to despise looking into a mirror; he despises looking at his face, the very product of what his creator constructed... but not right now.

He waits and waits for that same feeling of hatred to resurface, but he can't feel it. It's still there, but subdued. Subtle, as if a lid was placed above it. Why? Is it because he is looking into your eyes and not a mirror? What an irking conclusion. Just what kind of sorcery are you and that little forest god casting on him?

But how ironic, he can't find it in him to look away from you. His brain is shouting at him to make a remark about how "irritating" your eyes are — yet, in the end, the only thing that escapes his lips is a confession murmured under a hesitant breath.

"...I like your eyes too," he murmurs quietly.

You can tell that those words are meant to be taken away by the wind, never meant to be discovered again. Perhaps, Barbatos isn't on his allogene's side today because you can hear those words as clearly as day.

"I heard that," you smile softly.

Embarrassment instantly takes over and Kunikuzushi snaps out of his trance in the snap of a finger. He looks away with that disgruntled look again as he says, "Ugh, I hate you so much."

"Is that a lie? Do you really hate me?"

"...Shut up."

(Yes, it's a lie.)

─ ⊹ ⊱ ・・・・・・☆・・・・・・・⊰ ⊹ ─

✰ TAGLIST: @meimeimeirin @hcikazu @tsuk4sa-yug1 @catcze @semi-orangeapple @yuuki4646 @d-a-r-k-s-w-a-n @daisydkj @omgscaramouche @coquettemaiden @lemontum @herdrops — [ bolded names are unable to be tagged + register here to be a part of my taglist! ]

#genshin x reader #genshin x you #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x you #wanderer x reader #wanderer x you #genshin fluff #genshin scenarios #genshin imagines #genshin headcanons #genshin drabbles #seelestial.inks

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4saken4gotten · 22 days

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Head Canons For Dante From Devil May Cry

I think about Dante way too much so I thought I would share my thoughts on some head canons of my own. Especially since the fandom for me gets so fucking dryyyyyyy Like please, I need more content or I'm going to spontaneously combust and not even in a hot and sexy way. (Or it still will be I just wont feel like it, but looking like hell on wheels is the goal!) yes that was a Heathers reference don't come at me Am I cringe? Yes. Am I free? Yes. These are my SFW head canons for him! If I get to it I can make my NSFW head canons as well but we'll see about that. Gender Neutral Reader Pairing. For my bitches, bros and fellow nonbinary hoes. (My certification in making head canons is as follows: I have played DMC 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. I've read all the novels, and read 3 different fan translations of the novels we don't have official English translations for. I've watched the animated series at least 12 times and I've listened to all of the audio drama CD's. I have canon reasons for all my head canons but some of them are just little silly things because I brain rot. Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk.) I apologize in advanced for any typos and grammar mistakes and or just not making sense. I am dyslexic and autistic so I have a weird way of explaining things and will misspell basic words sometimes but I promise to do my best.

He's a big dork and his favorite thing to do is make his S/O laugh. Filling their soul with light is his favorite thing to do. teehee So he says the stupidest jokes to make them double over in laughter.

This is a bit of a double edged sword however since he uses humor and sarcasm as a major crutch / coping mechanism. He can be serious when the situation calls for it, but most of the time he doesn't want situations and mishaps to weigh on himself or those around him too heavily.

He's HELLA broke. So he'd take full advantage of free things to do like spending the night under the stars in a park after hours. Something that feels like "We aren't supposed to be out here!" but isn't really harmful / breaking the law.

I think he has some sort of collection of some sort. I think he collects seashells because they remind him of more serene times in his childhood. Probably hand sized conches or perhaps sand dollars (because its the only 'dollars' Lady cant swindle out of him ;u;)

Will die on the hill of pizza being a "balanced meal" insisting that it has all the important food groups therefore pizza is healthier than media wants people to think.

Despite his habits of leaving his pizza boxes about and letting Patty clean up after him- his own personal hygiene is actually really important to him. He always makes sure to take a shower after he gets back from every mission.

He honestly cant stand the scent of demon blood on him, it makes him a little anxious because it takes him back to the night of the fire / attack every time. (babyyyy boyyyyyyyyyyyy)

His love language is physical touch (giving) and acts of service (receiving). When he gets more comfortable with you, he's got some part of him touching you at all times: a thigh pressed against yours, a gentle hand around your shoulders or the small of your back, insistent on you laying on his shoulder or in his lap if you're tired. He'll be super appreciative of you organizing things when his mind gets too jumbled or he's just brooding.

I'm sick of people calling him lazy. I don't think he doesn't clean up because he doesn't want to- I think he's just overwhelmed most of the time / overstimulated to do anything if he's not in battle.

I strongly feel like he has some sort of ADHD, Depression and CPTSD due to his trauma. (Losing / killing his brother several times, his mother being killed, his father up and disappearing one day, losing his found family repeatedly: Grue, Nell, Jessica... etc)

He'd probably be super understanding of a neurodivergent s/o and be more than happy to "parallel play" in the shop. He reads his magazines on the couch with you while you read a book. Or he'll try to get some semblance of work done at his desk on the occasion while you watch your favorite tv show.

#devil may cry in love headcanon #devil may cry #dmc dante #headcanon #sfw headcanons

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rulerzreachf4n7 · 3 months

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I'm trying to say this in THE NICEST WAY possible, toxic shippers have the stupidest reasons for not shipping Huntlow

Heya! Now before I go into this please know I AM NOT a toxic/force shipper, I am not forcing you to ship Huntlow, simply just telling you why your reasons don't make sense and contradict to the canon versions of the characters of the show, and with that let's go

Reason 1: it's not possible for Hunter to trust Willow after Below possed him and in general

Oh. My. Fucking. Titan...Im just going to automatically assume you've never watched Any Sports In The Storm, that one part in Reaching out, Labyrinth Runners, Clouds On The Horizon, Kings Tide or the entirety of s3, I'M LITERALLY TRYING TO BE NICE BUT YOU ARE ACTUALLY FUCKING STUPID, Hunter trusts AND CARES Willow by first, in reaching out, giving her his penstegram account to chat, saving her from getting hurt in clouds on the horizon, yes, it's wasn't actually Luz, it was an illusion, and in the same episode Willow tried to save Hunter (or so she thought it does matter if it's actually Luz it just proves she cares about Hunter) and when Luz got captured by Kiki she was very anxious and hurrying everyone to get to Kiki to save Luz, yet again, don't come at me with just because it was illusion doesn't mean she dosent care about Hunter, she thought it was him, she cares about him a lot cause she was in a hurry to save him (or so she though it was him)! Hunter was comfortable and trusted her to cut his hair in thanks to them, in the same episode he wasn't uncomfortable with Willow holding him after the possession, in for the future HE LITERALLY SAYS HE CARES ABOUT WILLOW, NOT JUST GUS, WILLOW TOO, he comforted her after her breakdown and saved her and Gus, Willow trusts and cares about Hunter in ending of for the future by holding his hand (pinky promis?? Idk what to call it lol) and literally said "Thanks Hunter, you mean a lot to me to" which Hunter replied "yeah...sure, no problem"

Reason 2: they head canon either Hunter, Willow, or both of them as aroace, asexual, or on the spectrum

Oh. My. Titan, did you like know aroace/asexual people can like STILL DATE??? you completely misunderstand the meaning, just because they don't experience ALL ATTRACTION dosent mean THEY WON'T EXPERIENCE ANY, you know what "little to none attraction" means, it fucking means someone who has a bit, A BIT, NOT ZERO, THERE'S STILL A PIECE OF ATTRACTION THEY CAN HAVE FOR SOMEONE, I'm literally trying not to be as toxic as possible but people have the most fucking stupidest reasons

Reason 3: you ship Lunter/huntric/huntmira/boschlow/ect

Well that's fine, but those ships don't make sense in my eyes but I won't write an entire paragraph on why it doesn't make sense (I'm doing it after this post lol 💀💀) and also boschlow is literally toxic pookie it's not the enemies to lovers you want Boscha literally bullied her, if you think that's chemistry you're fucking stupid and never seen the entirety of s1

And hehe silly reason I'd like to add!!

Reason 4: they're bland, don't go well together, rushed, and have no chemistry

Oh my fucking Titan, OMG y'all! Did you know you could uncancel you're own show?! NO YOU CAN'T DUMB FUCK, it was rushed because it WAS FUCKING CANCELLED, SORRY POOKIE DANA CAN'T DO NO SHIT ABOUT IT, it's not like you can get rid of all the episodes and make it hunlow themed, sorry, we can't get all the things we want in life, and by saying that it wouldn't work by the first impression in ASIAS is stupid, sure Willow made a bad first impression but Hunter seemed mildly phased by this other than just being a bit spooked out and startled, and NO, HE DIDN'T JUST DEVELOP A CRUSH ON HER ON SPOT, sure, he could think Willows pretty, but that doesn't mean HE HAS A FUCKING CRUSH ON HER, and people saying that it's not a "half a with Hunter" because Hunters a grimwalker dosent make any sense, may I remind you this was made before hollow mind, he's still convinced he's a powerless witch by Belos lying about it to him, he thinks he's a half a witch while yes looking like a witch on the outside despite having no bile sack, and he doesn't seem to think as himself as weak like Willow does on the other hand, eh, I wouldn't mind if they took out the half a witch, and btw it's not supposed to be a romantical aspect it's supposed to be a similarity, people have also said she's only there to comfort him, even though that's apart of Willows personality, SHE'S THE RELIABLE ONE, LITERALLY SAYING IT IN FTF, she's supposed to comfort people, supposed to be the person everyone rely on, but thats not just her whole personality, based around her reliability, she's so much more than it! People say they think they're both better off as friends in their opinion, it's totally fine! I don't give a shit really, but if you're going to state a reason why you dont think a ship is realistic, then at least watch all the episodes they're in and use some common sense at least! It's the bare minimum!

And that's all!!! I hope you understand and if I made any incorrections please let me know!! I really hate toxic Lunter and huntric shippers, or shippers in general, they just make up excuses instead of saying that huntlow isn't their type of ship or they ship something else, but if you're a multishipper you're totally cool! (Even considered being a multishipper hehe)

#huntlow #the owl house #toh #my posts:3 #toxic shippers

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caernua · 5 months

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re: your arcana post - i literally don't even go here but i live for drama.... if you were ever to do a video essay or even just a write up in a post about the situation.... i want to know what happened, can't resist 👀👀

oh my goodd it's so eerie to explain it to someone who wasn't involved but this silly little mobile dating sim was just an initial passion project from a small team of employees of an indie game developer that was basically given six weeks to turn in something completely self-indulgent and it quickly got a backing on kickstarter around 2016-2017? beyond that it was quite a classic case of a project becoming more famous than its creators expected and it turns into a bit of a mess bc of their lack of experience. and by that i mean they got very close to the fans, and that's bound to open a can of worms. they used to make weekly q&as and you can't imagine what an exciting event that was, oh my god literally everyone was in a discord server losing their shit bc the devs had opened the askbox and we could ask the stupidest questions in the world about their characters and they would answer bc frankly they were very funny and the characters were all like... established in a funny enough way that it was so easy to make good jokes about them.

and i think what makes it very interesting is that the fandom was actually pretty small, but it felt HUGE. those q&as seemed like the most viral posts you could run into when you logged on tumblr but really most of them had a couple thousand notes at best, even when the arcana was at its most popular. it was literally like living in a small village where everybody knew EVERYBODY. if you posted something, high chance everyone in the fandom would see and reblog. it was like a hive mind.

also part of the reason why it felt so huge was bc everyone was churning out fan content like CRAZY, i don't think there was ever any fandom i've personally been in where i've seen so many people create so much damn stuff and frankly i think it's one of its strongest features. idk what it is about this game but everytime i revisit it inspires me so much, suddenly i wanna pick up my tablet after months, i wanna try writing again, etc. it's just wonderful at urging you to create and i have no idea how one even achieves that.

but yea the fandom slowly disappeared partly due to controversies, some of the creators were found to have been into some questionable stuff back in their not so olden days and they stepped away from the limelight, afterwards i believe a lot of the team stepped away from the game altogether. but it was weird because the controversies were constant, not just towards the creators but also within the fandom itself 💀 and given the huge volume of them they of course ranged from reasonable criticism especially regarding the representation of the characters of color, or the absurd microtransaction to stuff like 'his eyes are drawn bigger in this cg so the artists wanted to make him look like a child so this game caters to pedos actually' dkjgdkfj i saw some CRAZY takes and the bad faith criticism definitely overshadowed the reasonable voices in my opinion, it was not balanced at all. they stopped doing the q&as, the posts they made on their official tumblr became way more sanitized, and actually in a way so did some aspects of the game, and little by little it grew quieter.

and now it's... silent. but it's so near and dear to my heart, i think it's an absolutely wonderful game and what i love about it the most is how much it inspires people to create. and i think the reason why is bc unlike in many games like this (at least i think, i'm not sure cause i haven't played many) your character doesn't just suddenly meet every love interests. they have a connection to some of the love interests and a past they don't remember so it's very interesting to peel those layers back, BUT because it's your character the story stays quite vague about the past. so it's incredibly fun to speculate, to create a backstory, etc! that's i think one of my favorite things about it and it's not a coincidence that arcana went on to inspire some fans to venture into the visual novel genre as creators themselves.

and yea overall it just felt like a close positive community (well. mostly really, we are talking about a fandom on tumblr here so) and a super creative and inspiring one. the jokes were super fun, the art was top notch, the writing was also good. so yea i kinda miss it and it's sad to see how empty it seems now? like i see people from 2020 onward go 'ohh i just discovered this game' and i'm like... MY SWEET SUMMER CHILD... YOU HAVE NO IDEA.... YOU HAD TO BE THERE.... and ig i didn't really answer your question bc i kind of glossed over the drama but i went through the whole phenomenon bc i think it was. really interesting to witness 🫡

#can't believe i'm blogging about the arcana in the year of our lord 2023... 2024 almost #anonymous #asks

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ghostsxagain · 5 months

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It was true, they were a very good match to one another and Lani was forever grateful that Iggy never laughed at her when she cried about the stupidest little things. Instead, he always tried comforting her. Iggy was, in two words, heaven-sent. He always knew exactly what she needed and he was the only part of her old life that she even acknowledged. Moving a bit so she could slide her arm through his, she looked up at him and smiled, that nice bright one that rarely appeared anymore for anyone. "I could think of worse things to be stuck with for the rest of my life, Ignacio Morales." Leaning up, she planted a quick kiss to his cheek before closing the book. "Ready to get out of this boring old place? I keep feeling like you might fall asleep on me." @atrickrtreat

Iggy had known from their first meeting that Lani was special. He prayed over the years that there would always be a place in her life for him, and sure enough that proved to be true up till now. He'd always offered her a friendly shoulder to cry on, his home to take refuge in, an ear to listen to anything on her mind. They were close as could be and that would always be enough for him, even if he secretly wanted more. Iggy wasn't one of those guys that would ever leave a female friend behind over something as silly as unrequited feelings. He had been raised better than that. "Oh man, you're too sweet to me, Lani. You've set the bar way too freakin' high. How am I ever supposed to find a girl as cool as you?" His cheek warmed under the kiss, quick as it was - Iggy was just soft like that. "We sure can, but I promise I'm totally awake, one hundred percent. I wouldn't dream of falling asleep." Even though he had fallen asleep, on numerous occasions, and likely would again (though he blamed this on the copious amounts of weed he smoked). "Where do you wanna go?"

#iggy morales ; interactions #atrickrtreat #{iggy & lani}#att

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orphicrose · 3 years

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The Only One

Rick x Reader Fanfiction

Summary : life is strange in the rick and morty universe, as we all know. But things get just that little bit weirder when Rick meets you. Something seems oddly familiar with you, but for once In his life he has no idea why. So he searches from reality to reality to try and see if he had met another version of you, only to realise there where none. You where the only one. That’s when it finally hit him…

This is inspired by a song from Rick and morty that I think is beautiful https://youtu.be/epiOcz3HXNo

I accidentally got carried away and wrote too much, so I will probably just do a part 2 so it’s not to much to read if anyone is interested <3

_________________꧁♥︎꧂_________________

Humans are such fragile creatures, always have been and always will be. You knew that, but you refused to surrender down to it. Not wanting to be included In whatever earth had to offer, so you ran away. And not like how a silly fourteen years old runs away from home, Hah… no.

You left the fucking planet, not leaving behind a single trail or speck of dust for someone to follow you with. Your intelligence and ambition was all you needed to carry yourself through life. Travelling the infinite void of space, soon making a name for yourself. For good and for bad. An ordinary person couldnt even dream nor comprehend the things you’ve experienced or seen. And that’s just how you liked it. Being different. It was truly a gift to be intelligent.

And then there was rick, high IQ and normally not happy about it. Seeing his intelligence as a curse. Rick hadn’t seen it all, it was impossible, but he thought he had seen enough to make a valid opinion on life.

It’s pointless.

Such a bitter man with a bitter view on everything, including himself. You see, when you have an overwhelming amount of knowledge weighing down on your mind, you can go two ways. The first being ricks way, not caring about anything since he has seen how big the universe is and doesn’t see a point.

Then there’s your way, feeling blessed to be able to see things that no one else can, and finding a new reason to live every single day.

You two where polar opposites, but also the same. You where both alone in a universe you felt didn’t need you anymore.

The day both of your worlds collided should have been written down in the history books. It was the day both of your beliefs where almost questioned. Wondering whether fate really does exist.

————————————————

Out of the many things you have done, you’ve never visited the same place twice. Making everyday an adventure, as much of a cliche as that sounds it’s true. Not only that, but you seem to have people after you almost everywhere. For your intelligence, or for revenge. But there is one particular spot you cannot get enough of. Finding yourself there when you lose yourself.

It’s an isolated planet in the middle of the andromeda galaxy. It’s a newly ‘emerging moon’ as you like to call it. In fact, you pretty much founded this planet, since its a recent creation. This also means there is no intelligent life yet evolved, so it is safe for you to do what you please.

You go there often, to watch the two suns set over its small horizon and the thousands of stars come into view. Giving you time to reflect on your life. To appreciate it, but not to regret anything. The stars are far to beautiful to bring your mind to anything negative. The planet itself seems to project the meaning of peace and tranquillity even without life. Maybe that’s why it’s so comforting.

Your thoughts where leaving your mind, as you held your eyes closed. Feeling the breeze brush through your hair gently. That beautiful, genuine smile found its way to your face without you noticing. You where to lost in the feeling of relaxation.

But that soon came to an end. That euphoric state was snapped out of you when you noticed a bright light coming towards you. Getting bigger and bigger in just seconds. Until it became more clear, it was a spacecraft of some sort. A poorly built one to say the least. You sat and watched, mesmerised, as the flames from the object slowly engulfed it. Burning in the atmosphere. Finally hitting the ground, you shook your head and sighed. Being brought back into reality.

The flames took a second to fade after the ship had crashed. And it was clearer to see, it was the stereotypical UFO. The type you’d see in cheesy ski-fi films. But it had encryptions written in English. Which was very unusual, especially for it to be in this part of the galaxy.

What was even stranger was that it didn’t have even the slightest burn mark to it’s metal. Your vision of it became clearer and clearer the closer you got, slowly creeping past the incredibly green trees towards it. But just before you got too close, a figure fell out of the vehicle. Swearing like a drunken sailor.

This is what really messed with you, it was a human. You gasped quietly, not being able to remember the last time you saw one. A mix of feelings rushed over you; confusion, fear, excitement? You couldn’t help but stare, his unique blue hair bounced as he picked himself up, not even bothering to dust off the dirt on his lab coat.

“Fuck! You fucking piece of shit spacecraft. You’ve really done it this time Rick you fucking…” he didn’t finish his sentence, as he kicked the lump of metal. Screaming at the top of his voice.

“Fuck!”

You caught a small glimpse of his face, and recognised him. But you weren’t sure where from. You had met millions of people over the years so he could really be anyone. But there was something so compelling about his character. Something that felt like you where being pushed towards him. Or pulled, by a red string perhaps. Something that was just telling you to interact with him.

You stayed hidden behind a rather tall tree, still collecting your thoughts and questioning whether you should help him. Rick had slumped himself against the ship, putting his hands to his face and grunting. Pausing his breakdown for a second to take a sip from his flask, then proceeding to carry on.

He stayed like this for a good few minutes, before you had decided to approach him. Your curiosity and questions where burning at the edge of your mind. You just had to investigate. Keeping a hand on your weapon tucked neatly in a pocket behind your back. You slowly walked towards him, not even being able to speak before he noticed you.

A gun had been pulled to you, aiming directly between your eyes

“What do you want? I’m not in the mood so just tell me in advance if I should shoot you or not..” his eyebrows furrowed, looking at the hand tucked behind your back.

You rolled your eyes, putting your hands up in surrender. Just how you remembered humans to be. Aggressive and impulsive.

“Calm down, I saw your ship crash. Thought you where in need of some assistance. And put that gun down, god…” to your surprise, he did. With a loud grunt he put his gun back into his pocket and turned away. Usually, he probably would’ve shot on site. And who’s to say he still won’t, but right in this moment he is too preoccupied to care.

“God doesn’t fucking exist…” he mumbled “and I definitely don’t need any assistance!”

You raised an eyebrow at him, watching him as he attempted to fix his broken ship. Opening the lid to the engine and being greeted by a storm of smoke. Now Seconds away from another breakdown.

“Are you… okay?” You hesitantly asked, daring to inch closer to him. Probably was the stupidest thing you’ve ever done. He threw the wrench down at the engine as he exploded.

“No, I’m not fucking okay. I lost my grandson, the entire galactic government is after me, I broke my portal gun and I just crashed my ship into a planet with no helpful resources to fix it.!” His speech sped up, and he went dead silent when he stopped talking. Clearly regretting telling you anything. He is usually good at keeping his mind together and keeping his problems to himself. But he had so much adrenaline pumping through his blood, he could barely concentrate.

“I’m, i’m sorry for your loss” is all you managed to get out

“What? Oh no, my grandsons not dead. I just left him somewhere and forgot exactly where…” he spoke slightly softer, still grunting as he tried to analyse his engine.

There was a small silence while you processed everything he had just said. Moving closer to get a look at his engine, you shook your head.

“You’ve burnt it out…”

“Yeah, no shit smart ass” he bit at you

You rolled your eyes and snatched the spanner from the place he had dropped it. Not using it to fix his engine, but you pulled out a small metal box from your pocket instead. Fixing a few pieces together. Rick stood there and watched with a puzzled look on his face. Moving his eyes from the gadget, then up to get a look at you.

His eyebrows softened as he took in your features, the creases in his forehead disappeared. A rush of a strange feeling replaced the adrenaline, not being able to pinpoint what it was but he didn’t like it. He could only describe it as his heart softening, and getting lost in a place that was familiar to him. Thats what he felt when he looked at your eyes, reflecting off of his.

“Hav-have we met before?” He said in a much calmer tone

You placed the gadget on the engine and pressed a small red button on the top, looking up at him.

“I don’t think so?” The box moved around the engine, like a shield. Fixing it effortlessly, Ricks eyes darted from you, to the engine, then back to you. Now with amazement written all over his face.

Deja vu was the only state good enough to describe what he was experiencing. You broke the silence by holding a hand out to introduce yourself.

“I’m y/n”

It took a quick second for him to respond, still trying to process your face and remember how he knows you.

“I’m… Rick” he finally shook your hand.

“Rick Sanchez..”

That name was oddly familiar to you. Like you’d heard it in a dream. Or it was a loved ones name in a past life. You felt like you had heard it before, in a very distant memory. But no recollection of the connection.

“That seems…familiar” you tilted your head, squinting your eyes at the old man who gave you the same look.

“Well, I wouldn’t be surprised if you knew me. I am the smartest man In the universe”

#rick sanchez #morty smith #rick x reader #x reader #fanfiction #fantasy #fanfic #headcannons #spacecraft #rick and morty #ocs #a lot of words #a lot of work #comedy #romance

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imagining-in-the-margins · 3 years

Text

Here to Misbehave (Pt. 23 | S.R.)

Summary: Spencer’s birthday plans get interrupted by a case. Frustrated by Reader’s busy schedule, Spencer finds a unique way to spend time with her. Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Smut (NSFW, 18+) Content Warning: Mild exhibitionism, fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, Dom/sub, light choking, degradation/praise, sub space Word Count: 7.3k

MASTERLIST

—————————————————

Waiting for Spencer Reid was an interesting position to be in. It was also, unfortunately, very, very common. You would think the IQ points would translate to efficiency, but you’d be very wrong. The only thing that boy does fast is read, and even that didn’t follow through to text messages, considering he’d read none of the six I’d sent him in the past hour.

So, naturally, as one does in an emergency, I called him. Unsurprisingly, the phone barely rang a second time before he picked up. Talking was, as we were both aware, his forte. Without even waiting for my greeting, his groggy voice came through the receiver with a song-like sound.

“Hello, little girl.”

But it wasn’t his turn to sing, and he knew damn well why I was calling. I could hear the smirk on his face so well that I could also envision exactly what he looked like in that moment, with his fluffy hair sticking up from constantly running his hands through it and his eyes only half-open as he tried to finish reading whatever horrible thing that he had in front of him.

It wasn’t how anyone should be spending their birthday. Especially not him. There wasn’t really anything I could do about it, though that didn’t make it any easier to hear the exhaustion and sadness behind that scratchy voice.

“What’re you doing up late? It’s past your bedtime, you know,” he chastised before I even had a chance to speak. He wasn’t wrong — It was 3AM where I was. But where he was, it’d just hit midnight.

“I just wanted to wish a happy birthday to my favorite old man,” I purred back once I’d managed to calm my fast-beating heart. I wondered if I’d ever get used to the brief rush of adrenaline and relief when I heard his voice for the first time after some time away.

I hoped not.

Spencer didn’t seem impressed by my reasoning, though. “You’re sweet. Go to sleep.”

“You’re up, too,” I whined, still picturing the way he would undoubtedly pull the phone further away to lessen the noise. I almost asked if he was also picturing me but stopped when I realized that whatever he had in mind was probably a lot more exciting than reality. Then again, he often told me that moments like this were his favorite. When we’re both too tired to keep our eyes open but too happy to be with each other to let them close all the way.

“Barely,” he corrected.

“Besides, I had to stay up. It’s your birthday.”

I’d meant to lift his spirits, but the long pause after I finished made it evident that my efforts were for naught. He almost seemed even more upset than when he’d answered, and I tried to convince myself that it had nothing to do with me. It wasn’t that hard, considering he was probably staring at images or words of dead people.

“Yeah, sure feels like it.”

His tone alone ensured me it was worse than my imagination.

“Put your work down and pay attention to me instead,” I suggested as softly as I could with the neediness bleeding through, “That’s the first part of your present.”

“You’re my present?” he asked through a gruff laugh that made my heart skip a beat, “I like that present.”

He was trying. I could feel it in his voice, and I wished more than anything that I could teleport to where he was and hold him until it was too difficult for his mouth to form a frown.

“You already have me. That’d be like regifting,” I pointed out with only a pinch of self-deprecation. It was still too much for Spencer, though, who swiftly shot back the ever cheesy, “Every day with you is a gift.”

“Gross, don’t get all sentimental with me,” I ordered playfully.

He returned the energy with all the sass I always knew he was capable of. Once his whining ceased, he mumbled, “Do you come with a gift receipt?”

“No returns or exchanges allowed, I’m afraid.”

Spencer just let out a strained sigh, and in my head, I imagined how it would feel to climb onto his lap as he leaned back in his chair. I could almost feel his arms wrapping around my waist and his lips peppering kisses wherever he could reach. I could feel his love for me flowing across the country, persisting past the cell tower obstacles to make its way back to me.

“I can’t wait to see you again,” he whispered, his first purely sincere statement of the night.

It was an unfortunate choice, too, because it also reminded me of the biggest bummer that I unfortunately had to share.

“Oh, I meant to tell you, it’s midterm season, so…”

He was, thankfully, not as bummed as I was expecting. He was almost certainly thrilled to have a chance to sleep spread out on his bed without having to satisfy the very needy girl beside him, but he still managed to come up with enough bratty energy to scoff, “Are you telling me that I don’t get my gift when I get home?”

“It’ll just be a few days. Promise,” I spoke through the biggest, cheesiest smile I’d had yet. “You’re very distracting, Dr. Reid.”

“When are your exams?” His enthusiasm gave away just how disappointed he was with the news, but any frustration was clearly aimed at my poor professors.

“My last one is on Wednesday.”

The gasp that left him was too funny not to laugh, followed by exasperated, blubbered nonsense that didn’t ever get much clearer. I barely managed to understand him when he cried, “Don’t they know Halloween should be a national holiday?!”

“You should call my professors and yell at them.”

He actually considered it for a moment, but then returned the same silly intonation, “Maybe I will.”

“Do it. You’re probably more qualified than them to teach me, anyway.”

After a short silence that was filled with more sexual tension than I’d expected considering how the phone call started, I heard Spencer gruffly comment, “You’re a cocky little brat tonight.”

It was so familiar to me that I jumped on the opportunity, giggling through my sleep deprived delirium, “I’m in rare form for your birthday.”

The explanation earned me a chuckle, but not much else. At least, not that I could see. The static on the other end of the phone sounded a lot like the way it looked when Spencer leaned his face against his palm and tried to see something that wasn’t there.

But I was there. Sort of. We’d done a lot more with a lot less, after all. So, that’s what I offered him.

“You know… we could have a redo of the last time I called you late at night on a case.”

“That did not end well for me last time,” he droned. I tried not to laugh at the manufactured memory of Spencer holed up in a hotel bathroom because he just had to have me in whatever way he could.

“Only happy endings for your birthday. I promise.”

But then, as it always did, work got in the way. Filled with only the greatest sadness and regret, Spencer quietly but honestly replied, “As much as I would love to, I don’t think it’ll be possible on this case.”

“Is it that bad?”

“Unfortunately.”

I bit my lip because there was nothing I could do. I couldn’t help Spencer with his work any more than I could fix the distance. All I could offer him was a safe home to return to. He would always find that with me.

“Well, in that case, I will be equipped with cartoons and kisses upon your return,” I offered with grace.

But I wasn’t the only one in rare form. Without skipping a beat, Spencer corrected with a smug sadness, “You mean your return. Considering you’re abandoning me on my birthday.”

“Oh my god, the drama!” I cried before remembering that it was, still, in fact, 3AM. The light grimace I gave after remembering would be the only apology my neighbors would get from me. I was too busy building a narrative happy enough to drown out the horrors in front of him. “You’d think I was the one who was away all the time.”

“I’m allowed to be selfish; it’s my birthday,” he sang, and I soaked in the sound, storing it away for any rainy days.

“Fine. What do you want, brat?” I asked in the worst attempt at an impression I’d ever given.

He was just waiting for the question. Drawing out the first couple of syllables, he laughed through the stupidest birthday wish of all time.

“I want… you to go to bed.”

“Ugh!” I yelled again, not even bothering to feel bad about it that time. My exasperation fell on deaf ears, both from a willful desire to ignore my suffering and a literal ringing from the constant yelling.

Still, that impossible man drummed up enough compassion to gloat with a simple, “I love you.”

“I love you, too, jerk,” I grumbled, only to be swiftly corrected with a playful, “Try that again.”

“I love you, too, old man.”

He was satisfied enough with that answer, despite the sarcasm dripping from it. He still knew that the words were true, and that was all that mattered. Any punishments that might be necessary for my broken promise to behave for his birthday could always be doled out later. When the distance between us was narrowed to inches and clothes could be removed like cheap wrapping paper.

“Thank you, little girl. Sweet dreams,” he whispered, reminding me once more of just how empty my bed felt without him. I stared at his pillow for just one second before I threw myself into it. He chuckled at the sound of rustling sheets over the receiver but said nothing else.

“You get some sleep tonight, too, okay?” I asked, uncharacteristically and openly vulnerable in a way that used to scare me.

Spencer’s voice was filled with pride and love as he answered, “You can’t see it, but I am giving you a pinky promise.”

“Good.” Burying my face in his pillow again made it easier to remember that it wouldn’t be forever when I said, “Bye, Spencer.”

“Goodnight, little girl.”

—————————————————

Autumn on campus felt pretty similar to the rest of the year. I wished that it were different, a little more exciting, to reflect how I felt about the impending holiday. But no, it was just students stumbling into their usual classes and hectically scheduled midterms with hangovers and a total lack of holiday cheer.

It was, in a few words, a complete bummer. The only thing that kept me going through the last of my exams was the knowledge that I’d be seeing Spencer. Unfortunately, he was still doing that rather annoying thing where he refused to answer my text messages. It wasn’t until he ignored even my most ridiculous threats that I realized something was going on.

The ‘Read’ notification sat menacingly on my screen, and I was so fixated on it that I almost didn’t notice the familiar mop of brown curls visible in the front row of the auditorium. But once I saw it, the phone was forgotten faster than ever before. I ran down the steps at a ridiculously dangerous pace, dodging the others still grumbling from their previous exams.

I landed in front of him with only enough breath left to sneer, “You’re in my seat.”

“Surprise,” he said with my favorite smug, self-assured smile.

“Adorable. Now move,” I ordered with a wave of my hand. As much as I loved the guy, I wasn’t about to change my seating arrangement for him. It was beginning to make sense, though, why my friend told me that she wouldn’t be sitting with me today.

“Fine,” he sighed, taking his sweet time moving seats and watching me happily bounce on my feet in the meantime. I snuck behind him into the seat before he’d even fully stood up. That little amount of friction between our bodies seemed to be enough to cause the tension to mount. It’d only been seconds, but I was already seriously considering abandoning the class. To hell with the professor who’d already seen me.

But Spencer’s eyes locked on mine, and he leaned onto the armrest with that same silly smirk.

“It’s a workday, Dr. Reid,” I whispered, forcing my arm next to his and watching the way his pupils grew as I came closer.

“I might have pulled a few strings,” he replied just as quietly, keeping the illusion of secrecy despite many prying eyes around us, “Might’ve told Hotch I was invited.”

“But you weren’t,” I snorted.

Spencer’s head hung in just a little bit of shame, but his wide smile never waned. It was still there, bright and pure in its simplicity as he softly admitted, “Yeah. I lied. But I’m here now.”

There were no complaints about that fact, either. His pinky reached out to mine, twining together in the dim light of the auditorium. Somehow, for a brief second, I forgot about everything else. The noisy chatter meant nothing to me, the two of us lost in some alternate pocket universe that felt safe and warm from the cold air outside.

But time resumed, and I watched as Spencer took his eyes off of me first, turning instead to the lecturer watching us with a knowing glint in his eyes.

“Good morning everyone! We have a special guest with us today.”

I wanted to pay attention to his little introduction, but I couldn’t. Every word that was said about him sounded so clinical. It felt so empty compared to the truth I knew about him. He was so much more than a collection of publications and PhDs.

He was… indescribable. Even as his mouth formed a flat line and his awkward handshake was granted to the crowds of disinterested students, all I saw was the man I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. Even if it was only from the shadows of his greatness. Then again, I don’t think he’d ever let me feel that way.

Speaking of…

"Dr. Reid, the only thing I ask is for you to give these wonderful students a chance to show you what they know,” my professor started with a laugh before he so kindly continued, “So go easy on them."

In any other situation, I might have let it slide. I would have accepted the fact that Spencer was far beyond my intellect and not stand up for myself. But this time, Spencer was on my turf.

"All due respect to Dr. Reid, I don't think he needs to go easy on us,” I called from the front row, only audible to the other dutiful students that cared enough to sit up front. I heard Spencer laugh beside me, shaking his head just a little bit at the challenge. He didn’t say anything though, and I returned my eyes to the professor who was already familiar with my antics as I boasted, "At least not on me."

While Spencer caught on to the fairly obvious double entendre, shifting his crossed legs closer, the professor just wrote it off as my usual academic pride.

“I did try to warn you that that one might get competitive,” he commented. At this point, everyone had definitely figured out my relation to the man next to me. It was kind of hard to hide a bullet wound from your school. But again, I was so caught up in the man beside me that I didn’t even feel a little shame at their playful teasing.

Spencer’s commentary was the only thing that mattered, and he gave it with a dreamy sigh. "I'm not offended at all. I'm sure she's very clever."

The little bit of light left in the room started to fade, and once I was shrouded by the shadows, I felt confident enough in my plan to dig through the bag at my feet to pull out probably the nerdiest item in it.

A fucking back-up clicker. Which, I promptly handed to the man beside me.

“You’re in seat B4,” I whispered gruffly, earning yet another snarky chuckle from my boyfriend.

“Is that a challenge?”

I didn’t answer. Not him, anyway. What I did answer was the question that had appeared on the screen.

“Ms. (Y/n)?” My professor called, recognizing my seat number without even looking up.

Luckily for me, today was nothing but a review day of the midterm I’d already taken. While I knew all of the questions and, what I’d hoped were the right answers, Spencer had to read the questions from scratch. Really, it didn’t give me an edge. It just put us on equal playing ground.

As I gave my answer, I watched in my peripherals as Spencer’s eyes narrowed and tongue peeked out from lips that I still hadn’t gotten the chance to kiss today.

It was a bad thing to think about, because my brief reverie of the things that mouth was capable of reminded me of another one. I didn’t even notice another question had appeared on the screen, and when I heard the familiar buzz of an attempted answer, I shared my Professor’s temporary confusion.

“Ah, Dr. Reid,” he laughed, probably already regretting welcoming the bastard here, “Please explain the answer.”

But there was another thing working in my favor: My boyfriend’s giant fucking ego. Really, it should be impossible that someone who was normally super insecure could enjoy showing off as much as he did. My professor didn’t mind, because Spencer’s long-winded answer was a wonderful review of… basically the entire course, and I didn’t mind because it granted me the one thing I needed.

Time. Time to slowly remove my jacket and reveal the sweater underneath. Spencer’s eyes caught the motion, glancing over only a couple of times while he managed to give his answer. It wasn’t until I started to remove the sweater that he cut his answer short.

His throat clearing told me he wanted my attention, but I was still just too distracted for him. I fanned my chest that felt warm for reasons other than the temperature of the room, guaranteeing his eyes would stay there long enough for me to catch the next question before he had a chance.

Or so I thought. Because before the question appeared, I made the positively stupid mistake of meeting his gaze. As soon as I did, my mind was stuck there, drowning in molasses and honey and—

“Dr. Reid, please feel free to continue to do my job for me. Lord knows I would love a break,” the professor joked, and I almost felt guilty for just how genuine he sounded. Not like Spencer would have noticed passive aggression if it existed.

Not like either of us would have cared. Per usual, we were so lost in the space of B4 and B5 that we didn’t care about the rest of the alphabet. All we cared about was winning. It was growing more and more obvious to me, though, that I would have to become a little more ruthless if I wanted to bring down the bona fide genius.

The sound of his voice rang through the auditorium loud, clear, and confident. He didn’t need to worry if he was right or not, because he knew he was. The smugness was grating to my ears. I knew I couldn’t trick him into making a mistake, but there was one thing I could do.

I’d learned one thing very well in my time with Spencer, and that was how to manipulate that pretty little voice of his.

For example, if I wanted to hear it catch in his throat and come out a few pitches higher, all I would have to do is touch him. The riskier the touch, the higher his voice would go. Which was why I spread out the jacket over my lap, making sure that our legs were close enough that it covered him, too. Then I waited, calmly and kindly listening to him drone along until there was a natural enough inflection to hide evidence of any nefarious actions. Just as his voice started to rise, I slid my hand over his knee.

Spencer barely stuttered, just enough for me to know he was affected, but not enough for anyone else to notice. He took the loss with grace, quickly ending his answer with a summary that contained only half as many words as he would have normally provided.

He kept a few for me.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he hissed, shifting close enough to me that I could feel his breath on my ear.

“All’s fair in love and war,” I hummed. His breath caught again when I began stroking my thumb over his leg that had just started to bounce.

“This is wildly inappropriate.”

“How perceptive,” I returned with my own little smirk. The interaction caught us both, trapping us in the alternate dimension that existed when we held each other. His hand found its way to mine, and his thumb brushed over the back and sent goosebumps shooting over my skin.

I’d practically abandoned our pursuits altogether when I heard my friend’s voice as she took the question that we’d both missed. I should’ve been upset for losing after all that I’d gone through for my strategy to succeed, but it was hard to feel anything other than butterflies when Spencer was still looking at me like that.

Even when I looked away, he stayed, patiently waiting for me to take the final question in the review. I granted him a chance to take it, but he just shook his head, implicitly asking me to take the win for the both of us. Even when we were competing, we were always on the same team.

There were no more distractions as I explained the answer as simply as I could. I was positive the rest of the class was tired of hearing our voices, but Spencer never stopped smiling. I could feel the pride rolling off of him, his hand growing tighter around mine as he took in a deep breath.

“Very good, (y/n),” my professor announced, signaling the end and initiating a large sigh of relief from everyone else.

Spencer sighed too, although his was with a different kind of relief; a dreamy, soft sound as he muttered under his breath, “Just like I said. Very clever.”

The air felt positively electric, and I never hated my class more than I did in that moment. The rest of the period ticked by so slowly that I almost swore the clocks were broken. Once we were allowed to leave, Spencer insisted on sticking around to thank the professor for his hospitality.

I knew it was necessary, but that didn’t mean I had to like it. I tried to be as patient as possible, even though it seemed pointless. Spencer’s little grin told me he knew very well what he was doing. The conversation had dragged on for practically five minutes of agony while I idled by the door.

But then my professor passed, and I felt the adrenaline course through my veins in seconds. As anticipated, we didn’t even make it out of the building before the tension broke. We’d barely even made it down the goddamn hallway before I shoved his scrawny ass into the first empty classroom I found. Once the door clicked shut behind us, the roles were quickly reversed.

I hadn’t seen him that excited in so long that I’d almost forgotten how easy it was to get swept up in his undertow. I couldn’t keep track of his hands or his mouth as they marked any bare skin they could find. But no matter how frantic and uncoordinated the movements were, they never ceased to send chills down my spine.

“This is wildly inappropriate, Dr. Reid,” I managed to slur between sloppy, heated kisses. It was barely comprehensible through the pent-up lust that had driven us there in the first place, but it still felt worth saying.

Spencer, however, made his feelings very clear with a gruff, forceful, “I don’t care.”

His hands were already roaming over my hips, pulling me so close to the edge that I nearly fell off the counter entirely. While I was laughing at his haste, he was busy leaving angry marks on my collarbone, pulling the top of my shirt down to grant him more access. And despite how badly my body burned with desire and need, I drummed up just enough self-preservation to force out a few, regrettable words.

“Take me home.”

Even though I tried to make it sound more seductive than a normal request to stop, it brought the momentum to a halt. Spencer immediately stopped his kisses, but let his hands continue to stroke loving patterns over the sides of my thighs.

“Don’t you have other classes?” he asked. The feeling of his breath against my ears making me second-guess my already voiced decision. But as enticing as the idea was of having him now, having already waited over a week, I knew we could have so much more fun with a little bit of privacy.

“Don’t you have work?” I teased, hoping that it would spur him to take the action we both knew was safer. At the same time, I couldn’t stop myself from wanting to poke fun at the academic in him.

“Unless this is your way of telling me you've always wanted to fuck a girl in a lab because, I must admit I'd be more than happy to oblige."

Spencer’s whole body tensed as he imagined just what it would feel like to take me in such a public place. After a couple seconds that I can only imagine were filled with fantasies and a reasonable fear, he pulled me from my seat on the counter and placed me back on the ground.

“Let’s go,” he said, pulling me by my wrist towards the door.

I only barely managed to stop him with both hands on his arm. He turned back to look at me like I’d done some horrible thing, but I was too busy trying to stop the laughter that was spilling from my chest.

“You’re uh—” I cleared my throat, pointing to the very noticeable tent in his slacks before I keened through the giggles, “You’re gonna have to do something about that.”

With a quick glance down, Spencer remembered the very unfortunately obvious trait of the male anatomy. “Fuck,” he stated plainly.

I couldn’t resist.

“I mean, I’m down,” I joked one final time.

“Shut up!” Spencer laughed, too, trying and failing to adjust himself in his pants while I just enjoyed the show.

After all, we both knew that once we were alone, he would get a reprieve from my ridicule. He would get whatever he wanted.

—————————————————

The chaotic clashing of hands and mouths continued seconds after we’d reached our destination. The empty apartment had all of the sounds of our desperation echoing back to us, and after soaking in the melodious noise for a few seconds, I snapped back to reality.

“Okay, she doesn’t get home for another 30 minutes at the earliest so, we’d better hurry,” I urged, trying to shove Spencer off of me to convince him to move. It barely worked, with his arms clutching tighter the harder I struggled to get away.

Wrapped together just like that, the two of us barely made it a few feet before we almost tumbled to the ground. That was just enough of a reminder of our lack of coordination for Spencer to finally, begrudgingly, release me. Kind of. His hand still held tight to mine, and our laughter still combined the whole way to our bed.

From there, Spencer felt confident in our privacy to answer, “That’s fine. I usually tear open my gifts pretty quickly.”

It was a very good metaphor for the way his hands worked over my clothes. I didn’t even try to pinpoint the moment where being naked no longer made me feel nervous. I let the scar tissue show because neither of us were going to look at it, anyway. We were too caught up in the slight shifts and nuances of our faces as we rushed towards our one mutual goal.

“I missed you,” I mumbled, the words feeling as natural as breathing itself.

“I missed you, too,” he returned, and I felt the raw emotion, the sincerity and desire in every syllable. But once it was over and he had finally managed to remove everything but my underwear, all that was left was an all-encompassing, mind-altering level of lust.

“God, watching you in class was so fucking frustrating,” he strained, his upper lip curling with disdain as he watched my body squirm against the sheets.

“Why’s that?”

“I wanted you so badly.”

There was no denying that it was the honest truth, and I didn’t even want to try. I wanted to gloat and bask in the confirmation that his presence was dangerous for my academic career. Not to mention my sanity.

“Like I said. You’re very distracting.”

Then, to prove my point, that brilliant bastard shoved his hand under the band of my underwear. He only held me softly for one second before he slid his fingers through the slickness and thrust them roughly into me. It hadn’t been that long, but the emptiness I felt before was even more apparent now that I had any part of him inside of me again.

“Am I?” he chimed with a smile.

I wanted to be bratty, to fight the tension that was building and appear unfazed by his ministrations, but there was simply no pretending. Not when my body was already on the verge of spasming around his fingers that seemed to stroke the perfect place within me with every movement.

“Jesus Christ,” I sighed. I should’ve known better than to give him ammunition.

“You’ve resorted to blasphemy already?”

Spencer partnered the tease with a ruthless thrust, burying his fingers to the knuckle inside of me and holding them there. He waited until I ran out of breath and struggled to take another while also trying not to scream in a mixture of frustration and devastating need for more.

“I thought I told you we had to hurry?”

“We’ve got time,” he shot back without pause, “You’re just being a needy little brat.”

“Yes, I am,” I whined just as quickly, “I’m a fucking brat and I need you.”

He almost seemed disappointed in my compliance. His fingers began moving again, eliciting noises that were louder, higher, and sweeter after the anticipation. He tried to draw the attitude out of me by stopping again, waiting for a quip that didn’t come.

“Awww, no fight?” he cooed.

“I can’t. It’s your birthday,” I grumbled before biting my tongue. The pressure was becoming so unbearable I thought I might honestly draw blood. But after another few seconds of torture that felt like a lifetime, Spencer withdrew his hand completely.

He was testing the limits, watching how far I would let him go before begging. But even when he took the same soaked fingers and began rubbing me from the outside of my underwear, I only opened my mouth to steal quick, soft breaths and give pitiful whines.

“Oh, I like this…” he laughed, apparently having gotten past his concern about my sudden compliance, “I could get used to you behaving.”

The song-like cadence got to me, threatening to spark and ignite everything I was holding back. I almost bit back. I almost let the desire scorch my throat with a few choice words for the very rude genius, but I didn’t. The only thing that stopped me was the feel of cotton sliding down my thighs as he removed the final barrier between us.

“You’d miss my misbehaving,” I said with a chuckle. The sound mixed with another, a deep moan that filled my chest when I felt him press himself against my entrance. My back arched, causing him to slip inside of me just enough for us to both lose our words.

“I don’t know…”

If I’d wanted to say anything, my mouth wouldn’t have let me. It was too busy singing his praise while simultaneously begging him to silence it. My lips floundered for a kiss that he hung just far enough away from me to deny. Satisfaction was painted over every feature as he started to enter me, brushing his lips against my mouth every few seconds just to pull away before I was granted the intimacy I sought.

“You do look rather cute when you’re begging.”

It was strange, the way my body started to predict his movements. I met him in the middle of every motion, and I swore even our breath became synchronized in its rapid firing. It wasn’t until his hand rested over my throat we broke the rhythm. I wasn’t going to complain, letting the energy flow down my spine that arched towards him on instinct. His hips never stopped, and I could tell by the way his breath hitched and his fingers grew tighter around my neck that the new angle was as wonderful for him as it was for me.

“You look so sweet when you let go of every ounce of self-preservation and dignity you have and put your life in my hands,” he whispered with an affection that almost seemed odd considering the context. But then there was something else in his moans, a genuine gentleness that made my already arrhythmic heart beat faster.

“You know I’ll take care of you, don’t you?” he asked as his movements stayed calm and careful. Loving and safe.

I didn’t even notice my eyes had closed, but it ultimately didn’t matter. Because when I opened them, I saw the same man that existed in every image behind my eyelids. The only indication he got that I was still capable of communication was the gentle curve of my lips that dropped open in a pleased sigh as his hips continued a slow, tender pace.

It still felt like too much, but not in a bad way. It was too much in the sense that I was reminded once again just how ruined he’d made me. And the smug little shit knew it, too.

“You don’t have a single thought in that pretty little head, do you?” he cooed, dragging his hand up the column of my throat to force his fingers against my tongue. True to my word, I didn’t try to fight back. I soaked the digits that still tasted like me with my jaw left open. His pupils dilated as he watched the spit pool in my mouth that awaited his instruction.

“You just want to be used. Like the perfect little doll you are.”

Unlike my own, his smile was more of a smirk. A crooked, ever so slightly wicked quirk that made my muscles tense around him in their own version of an affirmative answer. He took it, happily. His body crashed into mine, but it merely felt like an extension of myself returning home like the waves meeting the shore. I could feel him claiming his rightful place at the deepest parts of me, making his home with every powerful motion of his hips.

I could hardly breathe, let alone think. I didn’t want to. It felt unnecessary.

“My sweet little girl,” he muttered with an unbelievably chaste kiss in the center of my forehead, “You’d do anything to make your daddy happy.”

I felt detached from myself in a way that didn’t feel me with fear or pain. I could feel myself through his hands, strong and working the pliable flesh of my thighs as he held them up so that he could drive into me harder.

His eyes, also only half open, burned with intensity. I could feel the determination, the undying desire to grant me a serenity that no one else could. His need for me to feel safe and loved with the seemingly contradictory brutality.

But it wasn’t contradictory. The power behind every movement, the insistence on being as close to me as he possibly could, might have caused some physical pain, but it was nothing compared to the pleasure of sharing this space with him. Of sharing my body with him just to see what he would do with it. I already knew, but I wanted to feel it again and again. Because with each stroke of his hand and thrust of his hips, I felt it.

Spencer had free rein to do whatever he wanted, and he chose to love me.

“I’m so close. You know what I want,” he pleaded despite holding all of the power. He handed it to me with a low groan, trying to kiss my lips while he commanded, “Do it. Come for me.”

My body obeyed his command, falling to pieces around him with shockwaves breaking over every inch of me. My vision went white, crafting a halo of light around him as he also found himself reaching a peak that seemed different than the times we’d shared before.

I tried to figure out what had changed, what about this time made it unique. But as the euphoria faded, all I saw staring back at me was the same face as always, radiating a joy and understanding that warmed damp, chilly skin. Spencer’s release provided a similar warmth within me, and my body clung to him even tighter despite the exhaustion.

My breathing took its time to even out, but I was in no rush to leave him. I would have stayed like that forever, with Spencer covering me like the silliest, boniest blanket. If it wasn’t for the dead weight he eventually dropped on me, we probably would’ve spent the whole day lost in the covers. But he could thank the scars for me being a little less forgiving.

Of course, thankful is not the word to describe him at all. Whiny was more like it. Even as I turned our bodies together so that I would still be sitting on his lap, he did nothing but groan and bitch about it. That is, until I silenced him with a kiss that barely brushed over his lips.

That was enough to turn his frown back to the dopey smile I loved so much.

“Happy birthday, old man,” I purred, enjoying the way his hands grabbed me tighter at the loving nickname. But age wasn’t what was on his mind. I could see it in the way his eyes tore past my defenses and he held me closer like we could actually become one if he tried hard enough.

“I’m so in love with you, it’s infuriating,” he whispered.

“I’ve heard that one before.”

Spencer wasn’t in a joking mood, though. All of his humor seemed to be expended earlier in the day, and now he was just left with all the mushy, romantic innards that I normally kept at bay.

It wasn’t that bad, though, I thought as his hands framed my face so our foreheads would touch. There were worse things to be trapped with.

“It’s true,” he mumbled with his voice still high and slurred together, “I look at you and there is just… nothing that can be said that would ever explain the way it feels.”

“Gross,” I joked.

“Get used to it,” he returned. And if that wasn’t enough to make me laugh, he stuck his tongue out in the most childish display I’d seen from him since he’d fucking licked my hand on our picnic. It was also just charming enough that I was willing to let the sappy stuff slide.

“I’ll be nice to you this time,” I grumbled. “But also, speaking of time, you’d better hurry up if you don’t want to do the walk of shame with an audience.”

Spencer’s arms fell limp with a dramatic cry before he used them to cover his face once more.

“Ugh. Go,” he ordered. Despite his words, he still made me fight against greedy hands to wrestle my way out of bed. It would have been smarter to let me go quickly. I really don’t know what he was thinking, but he would learn his mistake soon enough. Because as I was finishing up in the bathroom, I heard a very amused voice chiming down the hall on the other side of the door.

“Good afternoon, Spencer.”

I debated not opening the door and freeing Spencer from the unbelievably uncomfortable position he’d just found himself in, but ultimately decided it was too cruel. Still, the stalling had taken up enough time that the poor guy felt compelled to reply.

And, of course, the only thing he could think to say was a pathetic, high pitched, “Hi.”

Somehow managing to contain the absolutely riotous laughter I felt in my gut, I opened the door with the straightest face I could muster.

It wasn’t enough. Spencer saw the pleasure I took in his humiliation and practically shoved me out of the bathroom to take my place behind the doors. While I found the action endearing in the most awkward way, my roommate was mostly just confused about how the fuck I’d managed to find someone as stupid as me.

“I didn’t know he was coming,” she said once she managed to smile at the silly situation.

Clearing my throat, I tried to sound sincere in my bullshit apology. “Me either, sorry.”

In a way, I think the fact I couldn’t pull myself together worked in my favor. Normally, she would have scolded me (albeit playfully) for not alerting her of what she might be walking in on, but this time, she just tried to withhold the smile that still stretched over her cheeks despite her best efforts.

“You’re fine,” she sighed, giving in to the desire to go against her usual grumpy demeanor before retreating to her own room. “Have fun, you hooligans.”

Once her door clicked shut, I heard shuffling on the other side of the door next to me. Spencer’s shadow was visible from the light peeking out underneath, and I waited a few more restless seconds before I announced, “You can come out now, Spencer.”

Cautiously, the door creaked open just enough for his head to poke out and confirm that I wasn’t trying to trick him.

“I’ve never been a hooligan before,” he said with a bounce in his step and his eyebrows halfway up his face. To think that he was the same man who threatened to arrest me for existing at a nightclub was, in a word, hilarious.

“Well, good news for you,” I purred, and the sound must have reminded him of my more devilish nature, because his jubilance quickly shifted back to an obvious anxiety. I wrapped my arms around him even when it meant that his muscles tensed, dragging him down so I could whisper in his ear, “I was just about to ask if you wanted to help me play hooky.”

“And do what?”

It felt strange to say that I hadn’t really thought about it. That the second I’d seen him I knew that the day would be good and free and fun. That everything felt so perfectly fine that I didn’t even want to challenge it with a schedule.

Spencer looked at me, his answer apparent in the way he started to relax the longer we stayed wrapped up in a shitty apartment hallway. It didn’t matter what I said. Spencer would have followed me, just like I would have done for him.

And without the angst or uncertainty of what could go wrong, there was only one thing left for us to do. With a shrug and pout, I proposed the riskiest plan we’d had yet.

“Whatever we want.”

—————————————————

| Finale |

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #spencer reid imagine #here to misbehave #h2m #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid series #reid series #spencer reid request #criminal minds self insert #criminal minds smut #dr spencer reid #reid request

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omg-imatotalmess · 3 years

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Avoidance

Hey guys! So, this is for @thisismysecrethappyplace who tagged me in their writing challenge. I’m sorry this took so long to get out. I hope this helps you through your birthday blues. Hope y’all enjoy!

Pairing: George Weasley x Reader

Requested: Kinda

Warnings: Slight angst (it ends nice and fluffy I promise)

15. I’m hopeless and awkward and desperate for love!

---

Love was a funny thing. It had the power to make people do the stupidest things without even realizing it. It had the power to make people forget themselves. Love could completely turn someone inside out and set them on their head, and they'd be happy about it. You couldn't fathom it. How anyone could be happy about tearing their heart out and handing it to someone for safekeeping was a mystery to you. In fact, you thought it was total bullshit. Then you met George.

Well, that's not exactly it. It wasn't love at first sight by any means, but sometime in the years you'd known him, it crept up on you. You hadn't even realized it at first. It had come on so slowly over the years that it felt natural. Then, all of a sudden, sitting in a sunny corner of the library, it hit you like a ton of bricks. You were in love with George Weasley. The boy who taught you to play quidditch, who laughed at all your bad jokes, who had been your best friend forever. Of course, you loved him. It was inevitable. And that's why you'd taken to avoiding him.

You couldn't stand to be the aching, puppy-eyed girl grinning ear to ear as you offered him your heart. Never in your life did you want to feel that stupid. You also didn't like the very real possibility that it would ruin things between you. All you wanted to do was wait it out. Let yourself slowly fall out of love with him, and then things could go back to normal. However, George seemed to have other plans. After a good week of avoiding him, he finally caught up to you while you sat in the astronomy tower.

"There you are. Been looking for you for ages, you know," he said. You could feel him grinning at your back.

"Uh, yup, here I am. You found me," you said, cringing at your stilted words.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd think you didn't want to see me. Silly me, I didn't know we were playing hide and seek," he laughed, dumping his bag on the floor and sitting down beside you. In typical George fashion, he left a tiny gap between your shoulders but knocked your knees together as he sat. It was friendly. You wished it wasn't. Then you hated yourself for wishing that.

"Yeah, silly you," you said.

"C'mon, don't tell me you're really avoiding me." His tone was still teasing, but you could hear the tightness beginning to form.

"Well..." you began.

"What? Why? Is it because Fred and I let you take the fall for that prank on Snape? Because I feel terrible about that, and I really am sorry," he said.

"I am still kinda mad about that," you muttered to yourself.

"Does that mean you're avoiding Fred, too?" he asked, looking very much like he hoped the answer was yes. Just for the safety of knowing it wasn't just him.

Things would have been so much easier if he didn't turn those big brown eyes on you. When he looked like that, you could see how devastatingly handsome he was even with that wounded look on his face. You hated it. The last thing you'd ever wanted to do was hurt him. How the hell were you supposed to explain to your best friend that you fell in love with him and wished you hadn't? You had the feeling that it would come out wrong if you tried anyway. You looked away.

"You're not." It was a statement.

"Well, no, not exactly," you mumbled.

"What's the matter? Did I do something wrong?" he asked.

"No!" you said, just a little too loud. "No, of course not."

"You don't exactly go around ignoring your best friend without a good reason. Especially not you. Unless you forgot how to speak English or something. Even then, I bet you'd still come mess with me just because you knew I wouldn't understand you. You'd get a real kick out of that," he babbled.

"George, take a breath," you reminded him.

"What did I do?" he said, cutting off his rambling. You shifted uncomfortably, blushing under his gaze. If only he was just a little less endearing. If only he was ugly. If only you weren't dumb enough to fall in love with him.

"You didn't do anything. I'm just being stupid," you said.

"That doesn't exactly tell me much, you know," he replied, reaching out to take your hand. It was something he'd done a million times before. Your skin shouldn't have prickled under his touch.

"No, I guess not. It's really not a big deal, though." The tingling spread up your arm.

"Tell me about it anyway," he said, giving your hand the most unbearably sweet squeeze. It was like he had a direct line to your heart. That one little squeeze sent it into overdrive. You shivered, pulling your hand away and standing up.

"I can't. Not right now, okay?" you said quickly. Snagging your bag from its place by the window, you turned to run like the coward you were.

"(Y/N)." Your name sounded heavy and tragic on his tongue. The whole situation felt like something out of a ridiculous romance novel, which made you hate it even more.

"I'll explain it all to you when I get it straight in my head, okay? I promise," you said. While you never really planned to tell him about being in love with him, you would eventually be able to go back to normal.

Taking one long step forward, he grabbed the sleeve of your shirt. His grip was so gentle that you could have pulled away if you'd really wanted to, but you didn't. Both of you stood there. Neither of you moved or spoke for a moment. You just kept your back to him, letting him curl his fingers into your sleeve. Eventually, he brought himself closer, leaning his forehead onto your shoulder.

"Please don't ignore me anymore. It's only been a week, and I miss you," he whispered. You weren't sure you'd ever heard him so quiet.

"George-"

"Please? I'd really rather you talk this through even if I don't have a clue what you're on about," he said.

Jesus, having him so close you could damn near hear his voice inside your head was painful. So was the thought of walking away. George was your best friend. He deserved an explanation. It was cruel of you to do this to him when he didn't do anything wrong. You just weren't sure how to start.

"I'm hopeless and awkward and desperate for love!" you blurted. Well, that was one way to do it.

"You're in love?" he asked, somehow sounding more upset.

"That seems to be what came out of my mouth," you said.

"You're in love," he said again. This time it was more to himself.

"Yeah," you sighed, turning to him. You rubbed the back of your neck awkwardly, feeling your cheeks flushing with heat. This wasn't a conversation you really wanted to have. He'd reject you in that sweet yet joking way only he could pull off, and you'd have to pretend to be okay with it, and things would be so much worse. If the castle was capable of swallowing you whole, you wished it would.

"With who?"

"Excuse me?"

"Who is it?"

"Who... am I in love with?" you asked. Oh no. Oh god. George, that sweet, stupid boy. He didn't get it.

"Do I know them?" he asked. A frown pulled at the corners of his mouth.

"I should hope so. You know, come to think of it, he actually looks a lot like you," you laughed, suddenly dizzy with mortification. The whole situation was laughable. Completely bizarre. What could you do besides laugh?

"Oh," he croaked. "Fred then."

"Fred?" you asked, blinking dazedly.

"It's alright. You could have just told me. I would have even put in a good word for you. We're close, you know, I have an in with him. Wouldn't have minded setting you up. Can't imagine why you didn't just ask," he said with a half-hearted laugh. He began to back away from you. You watched as he ran a hand through his hair and bit his lip. For a split second, you thought he was going to cry.

"I'm not talking about Fred," you said.

"'M not sure who else you'd be talking about," he said.

"You dense--" you muttered. Shaking your head, you figured you'd better give this another shot.

"You, George, I'm in love with you," you admitted. It was his turn to blink at you. If the situation hadn't been so painfully awkward, you might have laughed at him. Half bent over with his bag hanging from one hand, lanky limbs paused mid-movement and sticking out at odd angles.

"Me? You really mean that? Me, as in George Weasley?" he asked.

"You know a lot of other George Weasleys?"

"Me! You're in love with me!" he hooted. A grin cracked across his face as he dropped his bag and swept you up in his arms.

"I'll assume it's reciprocated then," you said as he crushed you against his chest. He laughed. It sounded a lot like years worth of built-up worry finally being released—a wonderfully contagious sound. A smile pulled at your mouth, and you buried your face in his chest.

In lieu of an actual answer, he pulled you up, so your feet dangled off the floor and kissed you. You'd thought about George kissing you a thousand times, but you never imagined it would be like this. He kissed you like it was the only thing he'd ever wanted to do. Despite the enthusiasm that you could feel emanating from every pore, he was gentle. His mouth was warm, stretched around a familiar grin, and tasted faintly of honey. You wondered briefly why you ever thought about denying yourself this before George overtook all your senses. Reluctantly, the two of you parted to breathe.

"Guess I should have said something sooner," you panted.

"Definitely," he said, sounding a little breathless himself.

"So, I guess it really would be safe to assume you like me too," you teased.

"I've been in love with you since fourth year. Glad to know you finally caught up," he said. His face was flushed a soft pink, making his freckles stand out more. You loved them. You loved him.

"Sorry for keeping you waiting," you said.

"This was definitely worth the wait." Smiling, you leaned in and captured his lips again. Now that you knew you were allowed, you weren't sure you'd ever stop. Maybe love wasn't so funny after all.

@hufflepuff5972

#i didn't proofread this #sorry #george weasley x reader #george weasley x reader fluff #george weasley x reader imagine #george weasley #george weasley imagine #george weasley oneshot #george x reader #harry potter imagine #harry potter #hp #fluff

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sweeterthansammy · 3 years

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PROMPT LIST

Listed below are angst, fluff, smut, and some random/general prompts so please specify which genre(s) you would like me to write. Some of these prompts were found on Pinterest, but the majority of them are mine, as well as @babyboy-cody ‘s. Also, please, please, please ask me before using this prompt list, seeing as not all belong to me.

Angst:

“I never loved you!”

“Just leave.”

“You did this to yourself.”

“Get out of my fucking life!”

“There was no other way.”

“When were you going to tell me.”

“Get away from me.”

“I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!”

“I’m fine - stop asking.”

“I’m done trying to help you.”

“Sorry doesn’t fix everything.”

“You’re just a piece of shit who cares about no one!”

“When are you gonna learn to stop lying?”

“Are you happy now? This makes you really fucking happy, doesn’t it?”

“You said you’d always be there for me...how come you weren’t there when I fucking needed you?”

“Is this how little you think of me?”

“Just pack your shit and go. It’s the least you can do after all the pain you’ve caused me.”

“I’m never gonna love you, get that through your head.”

“Why do you hate me so much?”

“I don’t need you and I most certainly do not need this.”

“I never meant to hurt you.”

“Thanks for nothing.”

“I can’t forgive you.”

“Why can’t you love me back?”

“What did I ever do to you?”/“What have I ever done to you?”

“Can’t you see that I’m trying?”

“Do not judge my story by the chapter you walked in on.”

“I’m tired of this.”

“You’re breaking me.”

“No, I understand. Go. Leave. They always leave, it’s fine.”/”Just leave like the rest of them do.”

“You never loved me, have you?”

“What makes you think that I truly care about you or any of this?”

“Can you please be happy for me for five minutes?”

“Walk out that fucking door and we’re over.”

“I’m giving you to the count of ten. If you don’t come after me, we’re through.” (Beck and Jade vibes lmao)

“You can’t win if someone has nothing to lose.”

“Don’t come running back to me when you find your little heart broken again. Got it?”

“I’m not your goddamn babysitter.”

“All I want to do is forget. Forget that I ever met you, forget that I ever fell in love with you, forget how easy it is to get addicted to you. I just want to forget you as a whole.”

“You will never be anything.”

“You have to choose.”

“I miss your smile, your laugh, your eyes. I just...I miss you.”

“Don’t you remember?”

“I never want to see you again.”

“I can never look at you the same after that.”

“You were my everything.”

“You keep doing this and I-I carry on like we’re fine!”

“We’re not okay, stop telling yourself that we are!”

“You did this to me.”

“I’ve never hated a person any more than I do you.”

Fluff:

“I think I’m falling in love with you.”

“Shhh, it was just a bad dream. It’s okay, baby.”

“I’m here for you.”

“Your lips are so soft, I could kiss ‘em all day.”

“‘Us’...I like the sound of that.”

“You’re my sunshine, my world...I want to be with you for an eternity.”

“Am I your wallpaper?” “You weren’t supposed to see that!”

“Stay with me, please.”

“Maybe we should be more than friends.”

“I know you want me just as much as I want you.”

“My heart beats for nothing except you.”

“I couldn’t have asked for anything greater than you.”

“I don’t care if I don’t sleep tonight as long as I’m with you.”

“It just breaks my heart to see how mean people are towards you.”

“You want to try that again, asshole? That’s my boyfriend/girlfriend you’re messing with.”

“I would do anything it takes to make you feel happy and safe, I don’t care the cost.”

“I don’t care what anyone says about me, you...us.”

“I love you with all of my heart.”

“I’m never gonna let you go, don’t worry.”

“Go to sleep, you haven’t got any rest in the past few days.”

“Cuddle me?”

“Could you hold my hand?”

“You’re not leaving without giving me a hug first.”

“You’re so warm - share it with me!”

“Mom/Dad, please don’t tell him/her what I said about him/her.”

“Isn’t that my sweater?” “No, it’s our sweater.”

“I’m having your child.”

“I hate you.” “Oh, you love me.”

“Aw, did I make you blush, darling?”

“My friends get annoyed as to how much I talk about you sometimes.”

“It’s fine if you’re busy...but, would you want to get lunch with me? Even brunch is fine...of course, if you aren’t busy.”

“Have you gone soft on me?”

“Stop smiling at me. I can’t keep stuttering and messing up my sentences.”

“It’s like our hands were made to fit each other’s.”

“Lemme kiss your booboo.”

“‘S too early, can you stay in bed a little longer?!”

“Are you done yet? I’m bored out of my mind?” “C’mere, you can sit on my lap ‘til I’m done working.”

“After everything that we’ve been through, you still don’t think that I love you?”

“We were meant for each other.”

“I’ve been excited to see you all day.”

“Can I at least shut the door before you decide to pounce on me the moment I come home?”

“Kiss me again, like you mean it.”

“Are you my secret admirer, the one that’s been sending me all the flowers and notes?”

“Apparently all our friends have a bet going that we’d end up together.”

“You make me happy.”

“You’re more than that.”

“I’ve lost everything, I’d be stupid enough to lose you.”

“I fell in love with you, not them.”

“What I am craving a nice, sloppy kiss. You think you can get me that?”

“You’re the only one I wanna wake up next to.”

Random:

(Prompts that are bolded belong to @babyboy-cody - their prompt list is amazing 🥲✋)

“When the world comes crashing down, who’s ready to party?”

“I hope you die out there.”

“I love sarcasm. It’s like punching people in the face, but with words.”

“Just remember, if we get in trouble, you’re deaf and I don’t speak English.”

“Life is not a fairytale. If you lose your shoe at midnight, you’re drunk.”

“I’m shy at first, but I do the stupidest things when I get comfortable with someone.”

“Some people just need a high-five. In the face. With a chair.”

“Chocolate comes from cocoa which is a tree. A tree is a plant. Therefore, chocolate is a salad.”

“That’s a horrible idea…let’s do it.”

“If you ran like your mouth, you’d be in good shape.”

“Everything is funny as long as it’s happening to someone else.”

“You know how you can smack something to get it to work? I wish I can do that to people.”

“I drink to forget, but I always remember.”

“You can roll it into a tightwad and shove your dick into it.”

“I am the type of person that will sit in the bathroom and cry, but then walk out like nothing ever happened.”

“Technically, I'm single. But my heart is taken by someone I can't have.”

“I look like I shouldn’t even be standing next to you.”

“Better to have an enemy that slaps you in the face than a friend who stabs you in the back.”

“I thought you were dead.”

“Wakey, wakey, sunshine.”

“Fucking dweeb.”

“Hit me with your best shot.”

“You’re pissing me off again.”

“I’ve been waiting to kick your ass all week.”

“If you do that again, I’m going to throw you out the fucking window.”

“Don’t touch that!”

“How did you do so much damage?” “Well after I dropped it the first time-” “You dropped it more than once?” “I panicked!”

“You’re an idiot, I’m an idiot. We’re the CEOs of Club Idiot.”

“The world is going to end in seconds.” “Then I’d like to spend the last moment on Earth kissing you.”

Smut:

“Bite me.”

“Keep running that pretty little mouth of yours, it won’t get you anywhere.”

“Prove it.”

“Bite your lip one more time and I won’t hesitate to bend you over that [surface] and fuck you silly.”

“Do it then.”

“Oh, just fuck me would you?”

“Yell at me again and I’ll give you a justifiable reason to scream.”

“Fuck me like it’s your last day on Earth.”

“You want to keep going or you want me to start railing you?”

“Keep up that little attitude of yours and let’s see where it gets you.”

“Make me.”

“Let the neighbors know my name, baby.”

“Am I fucking you too good?”

“Stupid little cunt, you can’t even form proper words.”

“Tell me what you want.”

“Show me how you play with yourself.”

“Wait on the bed for me like the good little boy/girl you are.”

“Does he/she make you feel as good as I do?”

“You taste so sweet, baby.”

“Whose [body part] is this?”

“Let me finish this and I promise to go down on you ‘til you cry.”

“If you make me stop what I’m doing, I’ll have your legs wobbling for the next week.”

“You make a sound and it’s game over, got it, pup?”

“The only way you’re getting off is with my [body part], don’t even think about anything else.”

“Were you just masturbating?” “I- uh- no?”

“Lemme help you with that, baby.”

“I haven’t touched you yet and you’re soaked.”

“All of this for me?”

“You like my hand around your neck, don’t you.”

“Such a nasty little slut.”

“Always down for anything, huh baby?”

“One more time - what’s the safeword?” “[Safeword].”

“Shut your mouth, would you?”

“Stop whining and take it.”

“Keep those pretty eyes open for me.”

“I’m gonna mess you up, my love.”

“I’m sure we can put those pretty lips to better use.”

“Is that a challenge?”

“You belong to me.”

“This is all mine.”

“You’re so cute - begging like that would get you out of this.”

“Hold. Still.”

“Beg for me, baby.”

“Aw, repping [person] now, are you?”

“Let me take care of you.”

#prompts #prompt list #sammy's prompt list

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theright-sideofme · 3 years

Text

The Healer. Kang Yeosang

Prince Yeosang x healer fem!reader WC: 2.6k Warnings: Mentions of death and violence

10 years ago

The forest surrounding the castle was off limits to prince Yeosang. His father had warned him about the dangers in the forest: Thieves and barbarians, werewolves and vampires, and worst of all, witches. Yeosang had promised his father he would never enter the forest alone under any circumstances. However, teenage rebellion was a right of passage, and after the fight he had gotten into with his father today, the only thing on his mind was braving the forest alone. So without thinking, he ran, he ran out of the great hall and through the castle garden, he ran straight into the forest, where he continued to run until he stumbled upon a little white cottage. What was a quaint little cottage doing here?

The cottage door swung open and Yeosang froze. A girl around his age came bouncing out of it, the large smile on her face dropping as soon as she saw Yeosang. Fear flashed across in her eyes right before they started welling up with tears, she was afraid of him? “I’m not going to hurt you” Yeosang reassured, slowly holding up his hands to show he meant no harm. “Who are you” she asked as bravely as she could. “I’m Yeosang, and you are” “... Y/n” “it’s nice to meet you Y/n. May I ask why you’re out here” Y/n looked at him as if he had asked the stupidest question ever, “I could ask you the same thing” she shot back defensively. It was not going to be easy to get her to warm up to him. “Well, I’m just out on a stroll” he shrugged gently with a smile. She raised her brow at him, skeptical. “I live here.”

Present

“Y/n, I got that herb you were talking about” Yeosang announces as he lets himself into the familiar cottage. “Angelica” Y/n asked, jumping off her latter to make her way over to Yeosang. “I’m pretty sure that’s the one” Yeosang handed Y/n the bag and watched as her face lit up, “Yeosang, you absolute angel” she squealed, hugging him tightly before running off to ground it up. “What’s this for anyways” “a mother in the village needs something for her sick son and the healer’s trying to charge her an arm and a leg for it.” Yeosang hummed in response. Y/n was a kind soul, she just couldn’t say no to helping people. When they first met, despite Y/n’s apprehensions, she gave him a warm meal and a place to stay for the night (It was too dark to walk home in the dark) before helping him find his way back.

“You know the castle could use a new healer” he said, “ your father would hang me for witchcraft before hiring me to be the castles healer.” Yeosang sighed, she was right of course, women weren’t allowed to be healers, at least not in this kingdom. Yeosang still couldn’t help but ask, as much as he liked the time he gets away from the castle when he comes to visit, he started to realize something as he got older; seeing her once every two weeks wasn’t enough, he wanted to see her everyday.

Yeosang watched her work in her little kitchen, asking questions so he could understand what she was doing. She patiently answered every question, even showing him exactly how everything was done.

She would be lying if she said she didn’t like his company. At first she was apprehensive of him, thinking he was another witch hunter, she thought he was going to kill her how the last ones killed her parents. But he was kind and showed her he wasn’t a threat.

*Flash Back*

“You’re back” Y/n said in surprise as she watch Yeosang walk up to her small little cottage with a basket in his hand. “I told you I would be” he said simply with a large smile on his face. Once he reach Y/n he held out the basket, earning a weird look from the girl, “it’s a gift, for helping me, open it.” Y/n couldn’t keep the smile off her face, a gift? Opening up the hatch, Y/n’s eyebrows furrowed together as she pulled out a small white box. She looked up at Yeosang who just nodded to her, telling her to open it. So she did, “Yeosang-” she looked up at him with a bright smile, he’d remembered.

“A pumpkin pastry, they may not be as good as your mother's, but I figured it was worth a shot.” It had been a late night discussion during his first visit here, she had told him about the pumpkin pastries her mother used to make, and how much she missed them. Never did she think he would remember something a silly and small as that. Carefully placing the pastry back into the basket, Y/n latched herself onto him. “Thank you” she giggled into his chest, sending butterflies straight to Yeosang’s stomach. “I-it’s just a pastry, don’t thank me” “but-” “it’s fine Y/n” he laughed, pulling away to see her still smiling brightly. “Well what are you waiting for, go on, eat.”

*End of Flashback*

Y/n smiled at the memory as she carefully bottled up the medicine and gently placed it in her bag, alongside a loaf of bread and some berries. “All that for a sick child?” “No, the loaf’s for Hongjoong, he promised me a bowl of his mothers onion soup if I brought him some rosemary bread.” Nodding, Yeosang helped her into her coat after she slipped on her shoes. “Why don’t I come with you, I haven’t been to the village in ages” “and what would people say if they saw me wondering around town with the prince” “I’ll be sneaky” he joked as he wrapped her scarf around his head. The small laugh that left her lips caused him to smile, he quite liked her laugh, and he definitely liked being the cause of it. “You can come on one condition” “anything” “you have to bring me a pumpkin pasty next time you come to visit” “easy enough, now come on, let’s go.” Y/n laughed as he dragged her out of her home, eager to get to the village.

-----

Yeosang looked around the village with wide eyes, it had changed quite a bit since he had last been here as a boy. There were many more buildings and even more street stalls. The smell of freshly cook pork nearly dragged him away from Y/n’s side. He never understood why his father hated coming to the village, it was so much more lively than the castle: children ran through the streets, people conversing and laughing, everyone, young and old dancing in the village square. Yeosang wished he could live a life like this.

“Yeosang, come on, I don’t need you getting lost” Y/n sighed as she tugged on his sleeve. Yeosang just looked down at her with the brightest smile, and she could’ve sworn her heart jumped. “This place is amazing!” Y/n stared at him, admiring his childlike happiness and the sparkle in his eye. She found herself entranced by his beauty just like she had countless time before, and each time she was left breathless.

She took in a deep breath and smiled, “I know your excited, how about this, you go get something to eat from one of the stalls while I drop this off, and we’ll meet in the village square in 10 minutes?” Yeosang shook his head, catching her off guard, she was sure he would want to explore on his own a bit.

“I want to stay with you” just when she thought he couldn’t prod his way any further into her heart, he goes and says something like that. “Okay then, come on.” Yeosang grabbed her head and gestured for her to lead the way, and she did, quickly turning away to hide the blush on her face as she lead him to the house.

As they were walking towards the house, Y/n noticed some palace guards making their way into town. The atmosphere had changed almost instantly, everyone quieted down, the music stopped, and the children quickly disappeared. Y/n quickly pulled up her hood and encouraged Yeosang to do the same.

Yeosang had noticed the shift as well, it was impossible not to. He wonder why everything had changed so fast. Was it the guards? It couldn’t have been. Oh how naïve he was.

The head guard made his way over to a old man, they whispered amongst themselves for a few seconds and the air only seemed to get thicker. Y/n’s grip tightened around Yeosang’s hand as she tried to get him to hurry.

“What’s going on” Yeosang asked quietly as he quickened his strides to keep up with Y/n. “Weekly inspection” the dreaded part of every villagers week. Y/n had only been in the village once during an inspection, and she did not like it one bit. She made an effort to avoid the weekly inspections, but unfortunately, they were random. The guards would come down to the village and ransack houses and shops, anything ‘incriminating’ would get confiscated and anyone could get arrested for anything.

Yeosang turned to look at the guards once more, only to see them throwing the old man off his patio. “Hey-” Yeosang was quickly shut up by Y/n yanking his down to her height. “Don’t, please” she practically begged in a small voice. “They’re hurting him” “They hurt everyone, we can’t stop them, please Yeosang” “I can-” “You can what? If they find out your here you’ll never be allowed to leave the palace again” “I can't just let these people get hurt” Y/n took a deep breath and looked up at him, her heart beating out of control the longer she stood where anyone could see. “Then at least wait for me to be gone” “what?” “Please.” He looked down at her and the tears in her eyes- she was scared, she was scared of his men- no, his father’s men. He was going to fix this, but first- “go, quickly.” Y/n thanked him quietly before running down the street and quickly disappearing down a alley.

Once Y/n was out of sight, Yeosang ran over to the guards who were now restraining a mother to keep her from the guards who were taking her child. “Stop!” Yeosang commanded in such a deep voice that everyone froze. The guards looked over, wondering who in their right mind would talk to them like that.

“P-Prince Yeosang” “let them go.” The guards stood frozen, allowing the mother and child free. “What- does you’re father know your here” “does my father know you beat on innocent towns people” “he does actually, we’re simply acting on his orders.” What? His father ordered this? His felt repulsed, how could anyone be so cruel? Shaking his thoughts away, he walked over to the guards “We’re leaving, now” “yes sir.” All the guards mounted their horse, one guard giving up his horse for Yeosang. And as he rode out of the village with thoughts of what he would say to his father. All of his thoughts were interrupted when a poster with a familiar face on it caught his eye.

Wanted: Y/n Y/l/n for the charges of witchcraft and heresy of the crown.

Now he understood.

-----

When Yeosang returned to the palace, his father was furious. He yelled at him for being irresponsible, for interfering with his direct orders, and he forbade him from ever leaving the castle again.

“You were having innocent people beaten for taxes?!” “You have no right to question me” “I have every right to question you! You want me to be king, to rule in your footsteps, well I won’t! I won’t be another tyrant” “you watch your mouth boy” “or what, you’ll have me beaten to” “don’t tempt me.”

As the two men continued to scream at each other, the doors to the great hall were opened. “What is the meaning of this, can’t you see I’m speaking with my son” the king spat at his guards. “Yes your majesty, and we’re deeply sorry, but we found someone trying to escape during the inspection and we thought you would like to know who it is.” Yeosang felt his whole body tense up, his mind wandering to one place- well person-Y/n. “Why would I care about some commoner trying to run-” “It’s her your majesty.” The king’s mood seemed to instantly change as a cheshire like grin spread across his face. Yeosang, however, felt horrible, her? Who’s her? He felt like he could throw up any moment. “Bring her to me” “yes sir.” Yeosang’s whole body was on edge as he waited for the guards- God why were they taking so long!

Everything felt like it was set to 100. The sound of foot step accompanied by the clanging of metal armor rung in Yeosang’s ears. Finally, a figure appeared at the door. He wanted to look, every nerve in his body was screaming at him to look, but he couldn’t. What if it was her? What could he do? He didn’t want to look and see her terrified face, not again, not when there was nothing he could do to help her.

“Y/n Y/l/n-” No. Yeosang’s head snapped up, his eyes immediately landing on her glossy, red eyes. “-you have been a tough one have you?” Silence hung in the air like a swinging blade. Y/n stared at the floor, taking in a deep breath as she prepared herself to speak. “I’ll tell you as I told your men, I’m a healer, not a witch.” The king let out a hearty chuckle, a chuckle that let Y/n knew that there was no hope for her life. She blinked slowly as she tried to accept her fate, the tears that had welled up in her eyes now falling down her cheeks effortlessly. One after another they fell from her face and onto the cold, hard ground.

“Take her to the dungeons, she’ll be the villages entertainment for tomorrow” “No.” Yeosang spoke before he could think. He couldn’t help it, watching her stand there so hopeless and then hearing her father talk about her as if she was some play thing for his amusement- he never felt such anger before.

“No? No! Don’t you question me boy! If I say she’ll hang, she’ll hang!” “No! What proof do have to convict her of any crime” “Boy are you dense! I’m the king, that’s all I need to convict someone- Take her away, Now!.” The guard yanked her by her arms and Yeosang felt the urge to run and punch them for being so rough with her. How dare they? Yeosang turned to his father, his face red and his breathing heavy as this burning anger ravaged his body “If you kill her, I’ll kill you. That’s a promise” and with that, he stormed out of the throne room.

-----

“Y/n? Y/n are you down here” “I’m here” Y/n called out as she made her way over to the cell bars. Yeosang was quick to meet her there, their hands locking through to gaps of the bars. “Are you okay? Have they hurt you?” “I’m okay” “are you sure” “yes Yeosang, I’m sure” she said as she smiled sweetly at him.

After being overwhelmed by everything today, Yeosang finally felt safe enough to let it all out. Hot tears fell from his eyes as a sob wracked his body. Why was his father so cruel? Why was she being punished for it? Why did he feel so helpless? Y/n squeezed his hand tighter, wishing that this bars would evaporate and she could pull him into her arms.

She knew her time on this Earth was coming to an end, but her mother always taught her to have hope. She wondered what good hope was in a situation like this? But when she looked at Yeosang, she couldn’t help but have hope, he was her best friend, she couldn’t leave him, not like this.

“Hey, don’t cry, you act like I’m dying” Yeosang looked up, obviously not amused by her joke. “I’m serious, I’m not leaving you” “good, because I wasn’t going to let you.” Y/n smiled as he seemed to calm down a little, his breathing slowly returning back to normal as the tears slowed down.

Yeosang stared at her, admiring every bit of her as if he would never see her again, he was totally and utterly in love. He finally admitted it to himself, he was in love with Y/n Y/l/n. A weight felt as if it had been lifted as a small chuckle left his lips. “Y/n” “yes” she asked, a bit confused by the sudden change in his demeanor. “I love you.” As shocked as she wanted to be, she wasn’t, because deep down, she already knew. “I love you too” she mumbled quietly as her head rested against the bars. A sigh of relief left his lips as he tightened his grip on her hands, “promise me you’ll stay alive” “Yeosang-” “promise me” and she did, she promised that she would stay alive, despite knowing she may never see him again after tonight.

#ateez fanfic #ateez au #ateez fantasy au #ateez #kang yeosang #kang yeosang imagines #kang yeosang x reader #kang yeosang fanfic #park seonghwa #kim hongjoong #jeong yunho #choi san #song mingi #jung wooyoung #choi jongho

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portalford · 3 years

Text

I Can Picture You So Easily

AO3

It hits Stan at the stupidest times.

Well. That makes it sounds like Stan just forgets, when really it never quite goes away — sometimes it’s just more.

Like now.

He’s looking in the mirror — he found it tucked way, way back in a closet (and he’s gonna skip right over that because when he got here the mirror in the bathroom was broken, cracked until you couldn’t see a thing and why was Ford—nope) — and he’s trying out a new look for Mr. Mystery.

Gotta keep it fresh, right? Accessorize?

Glasses aren’t accessories, unfortunately. He can’t go without them anymore.

(Really, he needed them years ago, but he was too stubborn to admit it, or too broke, or whatever, but he’s literally tripping over his own feet now. Needs must).

Ford wouldn’t be caught dead in this getup. No sense of fashion. So that’s fine.

The glasses—

(Ford started wearing glasses when he was six. Stan had laughed himself silly when they went to the drugstore and tried on the biggest, most obnoxious frames they could find. Ma had scolded, but she’d been too distracted checking price tags to do more than scold.

In the end, they went with some cheap horn-rimmed frames that Stan wouldn’t be caught dead in even now. Old-man glasses, at six. But that was Ford all over).

—they bring some stuff up. The twin thing sucks, sometimes.

(Looking in a mirror and seeing the changes, the lines in his face, the grey in his hair — does Ford have crow’s feet now? Is his hair going silver? It was always unmanageable — is it thinning like Stan’s is now, or is it still thick and flyaway, like it was when Ford was sixteen? Did he even live long enough to get lines in his face and aches in his joints, or is he forever twenty-eight, dead somewhere in the universe?)

Time to stop thinking.

Notice the differences.

Stan’s ears and nose are bigger than Ford’s, always have been. He’s heavier and his shoulders are broader.

(Has Ford gotten bulkier, fighting to survive? Or is still he halfway to gaunt, like the last time Stan saw him?)

Definitely time to stop thinking.

Stan flashes a smile, and yeah, that’s all him. Cheerful, magnetic, and a hundred percent fake.

Time to work the crowds.

*****

There’s an ad for the nice ink pens Ford saved up to buy when he was fourteen.

Stan turns it off.

*****

Mabel finds a picture, once.

“Grunkle Stan!” Her eyes are all lit up as she shows him the torn photograph. “I found this under a floorboard in the attic!”

If Stan ever had any doubts about his poker face, he can lay them to rest now. It’s all on the ropes and his expression is perfectly level, maybe even a little curious.

Mabel is still talking. “I didn’t know there were pictures of you before you were all old! Do you have any others?”

Oh.

Stan still forgets sometimes, even after everything, that most people can’t tell him and Ford apart.

He knows better.

The young man in the photograph is unmistakably Ford, taken while he was living in Gravity Falls. He’s got his head bent over that journal of his, but the photographer managed to catch the eager light in his eye, the edge of his smile.

Stan wonders who that photographer was, all those years ago.

A tug at his shirt reminds him he’s not alone, and he definitely can’t get messed up about this picture of his secret twin brother.

Mabel’s face has fallen a bit. “Grunkle Stan? Are you okay?”

Stan gives himself two more seconds to look at the picture — Ford just looks so happy; Stan can’t even remember the last time Ford looked like that, even before it all fell apart — and turns to Mabel.

“Yeah,” he says. He smiles and ruffles her hair. “Pretty good picture, huh?”

*****

The name is the worst.

Stan never thought identity theft could involve so little fun.

Usually he can get away with just “Stan Pines,” and that’s fine. That’s his name. That’s who he’s supposed to be.

Sometimes, though, that’s not enough for whoever’s asking.

“What did you say your name was again?”

He smiles. Lays it on thick. “Stanford Pines.”

“Could you sign here?”

He does. His blocky, uneven handwriting looks even worse than usual where he’s expecting to see neat, flowing script, the way Stanford Pines is supposed to be written.

“This is Stanford Pines,” someone will say. “Mr. Mystery.”

Stan smiles some more. Yes, Stanford Pines is certainly that.

Gideon is the worst. Stanford this and Stanford that and Stan’s never wanted to punch a child so much in his life.

“Stanford Pines!”

He smiles, and he lies.

*****

Dipper halfway drives him nuts sometimes.

It’s not like the kid’s a mini-Ford — he reminds Stan enough of himself, sometimes, though Stan’s not sure that’s great either — but he’s got the brains and the stubbornness and the love of weird nonsense, for sure.

He’s also got that obsessive edge, the drive that sent Ford right off the metaphorical cliff.

Usually Mabel tags along on the weirdness hunts — they make a day of it. They go out, just the two of them, and come back laughing and joking and shoving at each other.

That’s enough of a painful reminder, but sometimes Stan will catch Mabel sitting by herself, coloring or crafting with a little less energy than usual, and he’ll realize that Dipper’s buried himself in monster theory again.

He tries to keep the kid busy with chores and hustle, but it’s a losing battle.

It was the first time, too.

*****

There’s this old song that Ford used to love when they were younger.

It’s got no words, and Stan used to make fun of it — what's the point of a song with no words? But Ford insisted it had Meaning, capital M.

It comes on the radio now and then.

Depending on how masochistic Stan is feeling that day, he might let it play.

He still wonders what Ford heard in this song, and if Ford would hear it now.

*****

He realizes, one day near the end, that he’s been Stanford longer than he’s been Stanley.

What’s the point, really? What does a name matter if it’s so easy for someone else to take your place?

(Did Ford matter so little, in the grand scheme of things, that not one person could recognize him in a place he lived for six years?

Does Stan, in a place he’s lived for almost thirty?)

If he could just stop catching Ford in his reflection now and then, that’d be great.

*****

It’s not any better once Ford gets back (once Stan brings Ford back, the ungrateful bastard).

“Stanford!”

Stan’s got a smile on his face before he even turns around, and what’s wrong with him that he’s halfway made this lie into a Pavlovian response? Someone calls him Stanford, he smiles and lies.

(Stanford — the real Stanford — is in the basement right now. He doesn’t even exist, as far as anyone else is concerned. Stan is Stanford, Stanley is dead, and Ford is a nonentity.

What a life this is).

*****

“So how was it?”

Stan grunts. “How was what?”

Ford rolls his neck, wincing a little as he works out the unavoidable crick from hunching over a drawing for twenty minutes. “Being me.”

Stan shrugs. “Wasn’t hard. We’re basically the same person, y’know.”

Ford snorts. A long time (a lifetime) ago that comment might have gotten him worked up, but he’s steadier now, softer around the edges. “Very funny. I saw your lease renewal. You didn’t even change your handwriting, for heaven’s sake.”

“Ford, I rolled up to town, said I was you, and started a tourist trap. You had a total personality transplant and nobody noticed.” Stan grimaces. That sounded really bad.

Ford’s expression has gone rueful and a little sad at the edges, but he doesn’t seem like he’s about launch into full-blown self-recrimination, so that’s fine. “Yes, well. That’s what happens when you isolate yourself for six years and your only friend erases his mind to cope with the mistakes you made.”

And that’s Ford trying to shoulder all the blame again, but Stan keeps his mouth shut. They’re both too comfortable to argue right now. “Being honest — for once — it kinda sucked.” Ford’s looking at him, open and encouraging, so Stan keeps going. “Everyone thought I was you, and it—I wasn’t. I didn’t want to be.” Stan shrugs. “I wanted you you.”

Ford smiles, and it’s a little more worn than Stan remembers, but it’s real, and it’s him. “I understand. I met a few parallel versions of you on my travels, and they were you, but — they weren’t really you.” Ford closes his journal (his new one) and sets it aside, tipping his head back over his chair. More playfully, he adds, “I wouldn’t want to be you either, Stanley.”

Stan laughs. “Yeah? Couldn’t handle the salesmanship?”

“Have more self-respect than to wear any part of your wardrobe.”

“Says the man who wears sweaters in the summer.”

Ford lifts his head and smiles, and this time it’s almost exactly how Stan remembers — quick and a little crooked. “Fair enough.” Ford stretches, rolls his neck again. “For what it’s worth, Stanley, I am glad to be back.” A wry look. “Even if it’s going to take ages to sort out the criminal record you gave me.”

Stan slouches deeper into the couch. Any further and he’s going to slide off, but that’s a risk he’ll take. “Yeah, yeah. Talk to me when you’re legally dead.”

“You did that.”

“And?”

“I legally don’t exist.”

“I was trying to learn theoretical physics at the time, Stanford; cut a man some slack.”

Ford laughs, quiet. “Did I ever thank you for that?”

Stan cracks an eye open. He didn’t realize he closed them. “What, learnin’ physics? Because I’m pretty sure that’s some of the stuff that’s not coming back.”

Ford rolls his eyes. “For saving me.”

“Hm.” Ford’s thanked him several times, but lately it’s been less Ford kicking himself and more Ford cautiously trying to engage in the old back-and-forth they used to have, and Stan can get behind that one. “I dunno. Might have to say it again.”

“You’re burning through my gratitude very quickly,” Ford says mildly, “but all right. Thank you for saving me. You knucklehead.”

Stan never got called that when he was Ford. He thinks he’s missed it, at least the way Ford says it — like it means something completely different.

“Uh-huh.” Stan’s eyes are closed again. He figures he’ll just leave them closed. “Missed you too, nerd.”

And maybe there’s something to be said for being your own person.

It feels pretty good.

#gravity falls #gravity falls fanfiction #stanley pines #stanford pines #back on the angst with a happy ending train #feat. a side of introspection and melodrama!#i love it here

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blushie14 · 4 years

Text

Drawn To You [Skephalo]

Soulmate AU? …You know what? Heck yeah! Soulmate AU! This will be fun! For this AU, whatever you write/draw on yourself appears on your soulmate. Let’s go!

Growing up, Zak has never communicated with his soulmate by writing on himself. In fact, he felt indifferent about the concept of soulmates for most of his life.

He’s seen a few people who got lucky and actually met up with their soulmate. It’s pretty rare to find your soulmate while you’re young. Most people however can’t find their soulmate that easily, or choose not to write to their soulmate for whatever personal reason.

Now this didn’t mean that he wasn’t interested in finding his soulmate. It’s not like he didn’t care. He never really had anything to say. Besides, whoever his soulmate was never contacted him either.

Zak simply has never felt the need to interact. Not until recently that is. He has been wondering what would happen if he actually tried to write to them.

Some of his friends have shared stories of how they got their soulmate’s number or how their soulmate reached out to them first. It has got him thinking about it a bit.

If he wanted to write on himself to contact his soulmate, what would he even do? Would his soulmate even write anything back? What were they even like? This person who is supposedly destined to have a deep connection with him is probably a complete stranger right now.

So Zak questioned himself, what should he do to capture his soulmate’s attention?

Then Zak had this… crazy idea one day when he was bored. He grabbed a couple of sharpies, went to the bathroom, looked into the mirror, and removed the sharpie cap.

It was a normal Tuesday afternoon. Darryl was going to do a late night stream, but he decided to stream a little early this time with face cam. It was a chill stream on the idiots smp, even if he was the only one online right now. It was pretty nice so far.

“Okay, VanessaTheMuffin! Fifty dollars is too much! Thank you for the dono, but no! Stap it!” He restates the donation out loud. “Do I know if Skeppy is going to get on the smp today? Well um..” He thinks for a moment while scratching the upper part of his lip.

“I am 95% sure that he’s going to join me later on? He might be doing something else at the moment… I wonder what he’s doing.” He hummed to himself before having an idea. “Ooh! Do you think I can build a little Skeppy statue right here?”

He was about to look at the chat before another donation appeared. When the donation was read out loud, he furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

Lovemepls donated 5 dollars: Yo homie what is on your face lol

“What? What do you mean?” He looked at his chat which was moving surprisingly fast. Trying to read some of the comments, it seems everyone has been saying similar things.

SilverGalaxy: Uhhh you got a little.. somethin… Maddyisadork: A wild mustache appeared! DeezVibez: MUSTACHE LMAO

“Mustache?” He took a moment to open his stream on another tab and was bewildered at the sight. A mustache was messily drawn on him with sharpie above his upper lip. “The fudge?! What is this?!”

Darryl covered his mouth in confusion. “How in the world did- ..Where did this come from?!” Puzzled, Darryl couldn’t connect the dots on how this mustache suddenly appeared out of nowhere.

He felt this strange itching sensation around his left eye, similar to the sensation he glossed over earlier above his upper lip.

Rubbing his left eye, he looked at his facecam again. “AH! Oh my goodness!” Darryl freaked out when a drawing of a monocle around his eye faded in right before his very eyes. “What is going on?!”

Tumbling Croissant: OMG AHAHAHA ADoseOfLove: Wow your soulmate has great taste! Memesnotfound: Aww your soulmate is drawing on you lol

That’s when it clicked… His soulmate.

“My soulmate is.. oh my goodness.” Darryl didn’t even know what to say or think. He has never heard anything from his soulmate before. Then the one time they decided to reach out to him, they decided to draw on his face?!

“Is my own soulmate seriously pranking me!? They even had to do it while I was streaming out of all the muffiny times!” He sighed. “I’m so done.”

Darryl chuckled a bit after the shock and confusion faded. It’s true that he was a little annoyed, but he would be lying if he said he didn’t find this even a little funny.

AwesomePeter23 donated 10 dollars: Your soulmate is something special lol. I already love them and I wanna see them draw more.

“No they- Don’t say that! This is unacceptable!” Darryl crossed his arms and pouted. “I’ve never met my soulmate before, but whoever they are I hereby declare them a complete raggamuffin!” He shouted out and suddenly felt the tip of his nose itch.

“I swear if they added something new..” Once again he looked at his facecam and found a red dot drawn on his nose. “Oh come on! Are you flipping serious?!”

Pyro_Plays: CLOWNBOYHALO!!! OwOStawws: PFFFT ComradeinArms: WRITE THEM BACK PLEASE I BEG

“You know what? I’m grabbing a pen.”

Zak was staring at the mirror laughing at himself a little. “This is so stupid. I look so stupid! Why am I doing this?!” Despite questioning his life decisions, he thought about what he should draw next.

He reached for a marker in order to make himself look more clownlike until he felt his left hand itch. As he was scratching his palm he found writing on his hand.

“WHY!? >:0”

Zak couldn’t help but burst out laughing at this. The fact that they decided to draw a little emoticon just made this even funnier. “Oh my god what have I done?!” He grabbed the sharpie and giggled while writing out his response.

Meanwhile, Darryl was still streaming, looking at his left palm. A message appeared on his arm and he read it outloud.

“Because I wanna make you look pretty?! What kind of excuse is that?! I- This little rapscallion! I can’t believe them!”

King Kitty donated 5 dollars: You lookin fabulous there bad!

“You are all muffin heads..” Darryl grumbled. He wrote a little angry emoticon on himself in response to his soulmate. To his surprise he didn’t get a response back, but Zak suddenly texted him that he was going on teamspeak right now.

“Oh great. Guys, guess who decided to show up?” Darryl smiled and covered his face. “Is this even a good time or not? I don’t even know!” As soon as he moved Zak into his teamspeak, he could hear him giggling far from his mic. “Hey Skeppy. I’m streaming right now, and you aren’t going to believe what happened to me!”

“Bad I did something stupid.” Zak said quickly as his giggles died down.

“Oh wow, what else is new?” He laughed a bit. “Okay sorry Skeppy, I was just joking.”

“Wooow, okay. I was gonna ask you for help but now I’m-”

“Nonono Skeppy you know I’m just kidding please don’t leave.”

“I know! I know, but Baaaaad I think they’re mad at meeee.”

“Who’s mad at you? What did you do?” Laughter poured out from Zak before he responded. “What did you do Skeppy?!”

“Can you help me make them not mad? I actually don’t know what to say next all they did was send me a dumb emoticon thingy.”

“Yes. I can help Skeppy. Can you just tell me what happened?”

“Okay So- You know how I said that I’ve never written to my soulmate before?”

“Uhuh? Wait..” Darryl gasped. “Did you?”

“Yes and I did what was probably the stupidest thing I could’ve done.”

“Oh my goodness, what did you do? I mean, it can’t be as silly as what my soulmate did.”

Zak’s eyes widened in surprise. “You heard from your soulmate already?!”

“Uhh.” Darryl looked at his face again and just laughed a little. “Yeah, they recently did. What did you even say to them anyways?”

“Oh I didn’t really say anything to them at first. I kinda… I kinda drew on their face.” He nervously laughed.

…Wait a minute.

“You.. You what?” Darryl’s casual light hearted voice suddenly turned soft and serious as a look of disbelief was on his face.

“I drew some things on my face and then they got mad at me. I said something else afterwards but-”

“Waitwaitwait.” Darryl’s heart was starting to race, but he needed to confirm this before he got his hopes up even further. “What did you draw on them? I need to know.”

Zak got confused for a moment before answering. “Uhhh well I made them look like they had a mustache. And then I drew the monocle to go with it. After that I just drew a teeny little red dot on the nose… I was running out of ideas.”

Everything went silent as Darryl stared at his screen, red in the face. He was looking at the chat and surely enough it had exploded as everyone was losing their minds.

“Bad? …Are you there?”

Mashyapotatoes: OH MY GOD NO WAY! NO WAY!!!!! Disoriented Vine: Well shit this is actually happening?! Amber: WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT?!

There was almost too much for Darryl to process. His soulmate drew on his face live on stream. His soulmate unknowingly revealed himself to him AND thousands of fans. His soulmate has no idea why he’s suddenly so silent.

His soulmate… is Zak.

The situation was so unbelievably ridiculous. Darryl, being overwhelmed with shock and delight he just.. broke down into silent laughter, leaning forward as he covered his face with both hands.

Zak, still being confused and oblivious to the situation, got concerned. “The heck? Bad?…Are you okay?! What happened?! I actually can’t tell if you’re laughing or crying!”

Darryl couldn’t really tell either. He sat up for a moment and tried to speak, but to no avail as he started laughing again, facing down on his desk with a thud.

“Oh my god.” Zak laughed a little. “Seriously, what happened?! Are you okay?!”

Darryl eventually calmed down enough to barely speak. “Skeppy, look at my stream!”

“Okay? Why?”

“Take ONE good look at my face! ..And then you’ll see why!” He shouted out.

That was when the realization hit Zak as he felt his face warming up “No… There is no way that-..” He has never searched anything up so fast in his entire life.

When he saw Darryl’s facecam, Zak burst into hysterics when he saw the same thing drawn on Darryl’s face.

“Look at what you did to me Skeppy! Look at what you did!” Darryl shrieked, laughing and facing down on his desk with a thud once again.

“NO- DUDE- NO FUCKING WAY!”

Darryl, being in hysterics as well, barely muttered out a “language.”

“AND THE ENTIRE STREAM JUST- OH MY GOD NOHOHOOO!!”

“Skeppy whyyy!! …I look ridiculous Skeppyyyy!!”

It was complete hysteria for 2 minutes straight until both of them finally started to calm down, taking deep breaths.

“Oh my god, dude I-” Zak spoke out. “I don’t even know where to begin.. you’re my soulmate! What do you even think of it!?”

Darryl sheepishly smiled. “Actually I.. I’ve always kind of secretly hoped that it would be you.”

“..Really?” Zak asked in a soft tone, feeling his heart skip a beat.

“Yes! I-” Darryl looked at his stream. “Hang on a second. Sorry guys, I’m gonna to stop streaming right here. Maybe I’ll stream again later and if not, tomorrow. I hope you all understand.”

ImForeverScreeching: Awwwww nooooooo PenguinRaven: Awww! Yeah we understand! <3 Lemon_Lime49: I just got back, why does bad look like that?

“Byeeee!” Darryl ended the stream.

“Dude, everyone on every social media is going to explode. What have I done?!”

“Oh my goodness you muffin head. I’m already silencing my Twitter notifications temporarily.”

The both of them chuckled and stayed silent for a moment. Zak was letting it fully sink in that Darryl is his soulmate. “I’m.. finding it really hard to believe that it’s you..”

“Why? ..Are you not happy about it?”

“Wh- NO! Nononono, I’m happy I’m VERY happy about it.” Zak quickly made that clear. “I just never thought that it would be you! I’m really happy that it’s you though. I cannot think of anyone more perfect..”

“Awww Geppy!” Darryl smiled. “I’m really happy about it too. Like, you have no idea how happy I am. You may have been such a muffin head, but you’re always my muffin head..”

Zak giggled a bit. “I really really want to see you now..”

“Me too.. Wanna plan to meet up ASAP?”

Two weeks have passed since it’s been revealed that the two were soulmates, and it was pretty wild. As they predicted, the information spread like wildfire in the fandom. Skephalo shippers definitely had a field day with that too.

Zak and Darryl took a break from making content only for a few days, but were talking to each other even more often. They slowly went back to making content and started telling their fans they were finally meeting up.

After planning everything out, Zak got on a flight to meet up and stay with Bad for a week. As soon as he departed from the plane, he felt a little nervous but extremely excited.

He roamed around the airport looking for Darryl. A few minutes went by until Zak felt a familiar itch on his left palm and looked to find a message.

“Hi <3”

Zak quickly looked around him until he saw Darryl smiling and waving in front of him. He smiled wide and started to run excitingly towards him. Darryl was surprised for a moment before raising his arms, bracing for impact.

“Skeppy!” Zak almost tackled him as he wrapped his arms around him as Darryl laughed and hugged back.

Skeppy giggled. “Did you really bring a pen with you just so you can write hi as soon as you see me?!”

“Hey, I thought it was fitting okay? You muffin head…” Darryl pouted.

Zak didn’t move away from the hug. He melts into the embrace, hugging Darryl closer as he spoke out softly. “Well.. hi..”

Darryl smiled and stared at Zak as a warm and comforting feeling washed over them. He didn’t want to let go and just wanted to keep him in his arms forever. “Oh my goodness, you just got here and I already don’t want you to leave in seven days..”

“Nooo, don’t think about that right now! I’m just happy to be here now..”

“Yeah..” Darryl wrapped his arms around Zak even more. “Me too.”

[End]

#skephalo #badboyhalo #skeppy #fanfiction #my writing #soulmate au

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