#and then there was one house with a cat in town somewhere?

[doobea]

YOU'RE A MEAN ONE, MISTER GOJO ─ SATORU G.

synopsis: satoru gojo is spoiled and arrogant. he's also the next in line to inherit his family's fortune. his father sends him far away in a small town for a week in hopes that he'll 'change' for the better. instead of the usual five-starred hilton hotels, he stays at a local inn and starts to befriend the owner's daughter.

tropes: small town romance, christmas au, golden retriever x black cat

MILESTONE EVENT || MILESTONE MASTERLIST

contents: fem!reader, spoiled rich boy!gojo, acts like an ass to everyone but hopelessly falls in love with you at first sight, feels like a really bad hallmark movie, mentions of wealth class differences, reader isn't a tsundere - she's just indifferent for the most part and introverted word count: 7.5K (idk i will uh make the fics shorter in the future) a/n: thank you anon for requesting this!! idk if this is what you wanted but hopefully you like it!! :3 everyone also give a round of applause to @popponn for beta reading this big mess LMAO

Satoru Gojo has a lot of expectations, but this certainly isn’t one of them.

He isn’t particularly excited about spending a week away from his big city penthouse to be rotting in a small town motel in the middle of nowhere but, his father, CEO of Gojo Corporations, heavily insisted that he ‘needs this’ and that ‘it’ll be good for the company’ — whatever that means. Satoru is confident that his father thinks he’s incapable of running the family business after last month’s run with the paparazzi and his third fling of the month. It wasn’t his fault that they got caught doing drugs at one of Zenin's parties, everyone else was doing the same thing, it just so happened that the cameras were only focusing on him. 

Well, that’s what he gets for signing up to be the son of one of the richest men on Earth.

“You need to start taking this seriously,” he recalls his father slamming his fist down at the desk before throwing a bottle of Henessy at the wall. “I don’t want this company to go bankrupt just because I have a son who only thinks with his dick.”

Ouch… but he’s not wrong about that.

So now Satoru finds himself driving up a winding road somewhere very deep in the mountains. Exactly five hours away from the city. And, for the past three hours, all he’s been seeing are miles and miles of pine trees, sheets of snow, and — he had recently learned this from Suguru — sugar shacks. Apparently when you’re out over a hundred miles into wilderness territory these sap houses are littered everywhere.  The fact that Satoru is beginning to count more shacks than designer cars on the road is really starting to get to him. 

“This whole thing is so fucking stupid,” Satoru has also been talking to himself throughout the journey in order to not lose his mind. “He could’ve just sent me door to door caroling instead of whatever this is.” Satoru doesn’t know how to sing well, but he does know all the lyrics to ‘Baby It’s Cold Outside’ and that usually gets him all the tips. He wonders if he can manage to make a small side hustle when he starts wasting his week here.

He takes a sharp turn up around the hill before finally recognizing a big red sign with the name ‘Mistle Town’ as seen on the postcard his dad left him before leaving. It takes him another five minutes of driving through said small town, which is quite literally something out of one of those really bad holiday movies that his mom would force him to watch when he was little, before arriving at the inn. Upon arriving, Satoru is noticeably disappointed at the lack of valet assistance and, the size and design of the inn, is rather lackluster. 

First, it just looks like a regular white farmhouse. Maybe having a max of ten rooms, none of them being penthouse sized, Satoru assumes. There are a couple of flowerbeds out front, all covered in a couple of inches of snow, and there’s subtle signs of holiday decor slowly bleeding its way outside. He sees someone dressed in an oversized puffer by the entrance, arms occupied with red tinsel and large white ornaments, and figures that the first nice thing he’ll do is to help out a random stranger — just to prove something to his dad.

Satoru parks his Rolls Royce in a spot furthest away from everyone else in the parking lot and sends a ‘im alive and well’ text to Suguru, because he’s very much so going to be in frequent contact with him for the remainder of the trip, before heading up.

“Need a hand?” He points out the obvious but still manages to throw a smile as if he’s already fixed the situation unfolding in front of him.

Satoru’s presence seems to pull you from your busy trance. You wiped your body around, nearly smacking the damn tinsel in his face, and made a small surprised noise.

“I’ve got it,” you muffle out and he looks entirely unconvinced but, whatever, he tried anyway.

Satoru gives you a few encouraging pats on the back before heading inside, failing to realize his strength and causing you to lose your balance, making a few ornaments tumble to the ground. Thank god they’re all plastic though.

He pretends to not hear you yelling after him as he enters the double doors, immediately greeted by the scent of roasted coffee beans and leather. It’s the precious hour in the morning where nobody comes by, right after the cleaning staff had just finished vacuuming, when he struts in. He immediately spots someone vaguely familiar by the front desk. Long black hair, a red poofy bow tie in the back, and a distinctive scar across her face. The woman isn’t working alone, a man with another facial marking is next to her, brewing two cups of coffee by the espresso machine. 

Satoru looks at the woman again and outwardly smiles. “What are you doing here?”

“Ugh,” Utahime’s composure immediately falters at the sound of his voice, not that it’s a big shock. “Helping the family business, what else?” she throws back with a certain sharpness to her tone, and waves off the casual talk. “Have you even mentally prepared yourself for what you’re getting into?”

Satoru simply shrugs and saunters over to a nearby seat by the counter. “Nah, honestly just planning to fuck around till I get back.”

Utahime flushes a little, though it’s mainly from frustration. “Satoru Gojo, you really are—”

“Utahime,” the man next to her speaks, handing her a cup of coffee, and slides Satoru a freshly brewed one, too. “I can explain the details to him, if you would like?”

The older female rubs the bridge of her nose and exhales a long, overdue sigh. “Please do, Choso.”

“Yeah,” Satoru leans into the counter, lips pointed down at this new face. “Please, do tell.”

“You’re basically our little Santa helper.” A new voice rings out from behind him. It spooks Satoru from his seat and he whips his head around to be met with your narrow eyes.

“Huh?”

“Also think of this as an unpaid internship.” You start laughing when he gags on his own saliva at your statement. “Okay, you don’t have to be so dramatic about it.”

Satoru swallows. “U-Unpaid…?”

Now it’s Utahime’s turn to speak, she huffs and tosses a couple of stockings into his arms. “Your father sent us a lengthy email a few days prior regarding your bratty behavior. So, of course, we came prepared.” 

“Prepared…?” He feels the fabric in his hands and whines at the grainy texture. This is so not 100% real wool.

If Satoru thought he had any chance of actually taking over his father’s company, because he knows the difference between supply and demand, he’s wrong.

Customer service is not his forte. He’s always thrown emails and sponsorship paperwork at his many assistants, and Satoru doesn’t even know his own email log-in password. So, when you walked up to him first thing the next morning with a brown apron, the inn’s logo large and embroidered in the center, telling him how to function all these coffee machines that he’s seen behind hundreds of counters, it invoked some fear into his already wrecked nerves. Plus, no one dared to warn him about the clientele during a holiday rush.

“I want a venti peppermint frappe with two pumps of chocolate, three pumps of hazelnut, replace it with almond milk, one shot of espresso, and top it off with a drizzle of caramel on top.”

He slumps against the counter. “You sure you want all of that?”

“Can I please get a half dozen sfogliatella and a cannoli?

He starts picking at his cuticles and sneers. “Sorry, I don’t speak Italian.” 

“My change is supposed to be five dollars, you only gave me three back?”

Satoru groans. “You’re trying to scam me, aren’t you?”

By the end of his four hour shift, Satoru feels like he’s just done more charity work than he’s ever done in his life — actually, maybe this could also be comparable to the time where he did the ribbon cutting ceremony at Chanel; gotta support small businesses, right?

“Gojo.” You’re seated across from him behind the counter, arms crossed and pursed lips.

He barely spares you a glance as he idly plays whatever shitty mobile game that’s number one on the app store. “Mhm? What is it?” He clearly knows you’re upset, your voice practically screams ‘I will end you’ in the most monotonous way possible. But can you blame him? Of all places, Satoru does not want to spend his winter break here.

You jerk your head to the side, fingers rhythmically tapping away on the counter, clearly unimpressed. “It hasn’t even been a full day and you’ve managed to piss off every single customer.”

Satoru expression shifts, brow creasing, and sighs, grabbing a handful of mint chocolate from the freebie candy jar by the register. “Don’t be dramatic,” he rolls his eyes and shoves three pieces in his mouth before jabbing a finger at a young man. “I didn’t piss him off!”

You glower, cheeks slightly puffed out. “That’s Yuuji and he’s practically a family friend and Choso’s little brother, so he doesn’t count,” you explain before adding, “Plus, he’s literally nice to everyone. You’re not special.”

And for a second, Satoru considered arguing that fact. Having been born into wealth, granted whatever wish he wanted, his butlers and maids are always on speed dial, that’s the lifestyle he’s used to. Placed on this tiny rock called Earth just to take over it one day, is what his father used to always say to him. But how can he, Satoru Gojo, take over when he’s stuck working a minimum — scratch that, unpaid — wage job as punishment? 

Instead of fighting, Satoru slumps against the counter and pouts, like a little kid who just got their toy taken away. You and your sister Utahime have a clear advantage over him, by somehow being close, yet distant, friends to his family. Maybe karma is real. 

“I’m putting you on ski lessons later.”

Satoru’s ears perk at this. “Oh, so I get some employee benefits, right?”

You roll your eyes, digging deep in your pockets to pull out a sheet with his name next to a list of others. “Wrong. You’re in charge of teaching five year olds how to ski.” 

“Huh?”

Somehow that sounds even worse than being a barista. Kinda. 

By the end of his first day of unemployment, Satoru tries to convince himself that a full change of scenery is nice. Well, he has to convince himself, otherwise he’s stuck dreading each coming day for the rest of the week. 

“Tired yet, Gojo?”

You flop down on a spare armchair in his room, squishing his Canada Goose jacket underneath. He’s too tired to yell at you to get off and tumbles onto his bed, feet dangling off the edge, letting out a loud groan when his face immediately makes contact with the rough wooly blanket. Surprisingly to him, everything just feels so comfortable that the quality of the products doesn’t even cross his mind.

Sure, the air in the room is a bit musty, and he can feel his cheeks flaring up from the sudden change in temperature and the dull aching nag in his legs from demonstrating ski tricks to toddlers, but there’s an odd sense of fulfillment swelling in his chest just about now. He almost suggests taking over Choso’s lesson but, according to the hotel pamphlet, there’s going to be an ice fishing tournament tomorrow and he kinda wants to check that out, too.

“Exhausted,” he mumbles into the sheets, eyes squeezed shut. Satoru wiggles his body around for a few moments before slipping out of his snow boots and stares out the window, noticing flickering green and purple lights in the night sky. “Woah, are those…?”

He hears you laugh beside him. “Yeah, northern lights. We see them all the time during the winter.”

“Only seen them bitches in ‘Polar Express’.” Satoru finds himself saying whatever’s on his mind right now, his brain too whipped out to control his mouth. “You guys are lucky to see this every night.”

“I know you’re all pooped out from today but,” he feels the mattress dip by the edge and your fingers poking at his thighs. “Did you wanna head up to the balcony and watch them for a bit?” you say this experimentally, waiting for his reaction. 

Satoru might be a stranger to most natural phenomenons, having to zone out all the time whenever he did go on family vacations to a fancy national park when he was younger. Though, during the short time of spending his time here, it makes him think about packing up and leaving behind the fast paced city life for a bit of natural beauty and brightness.

“Carry me?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, you’re like a giant.” 

He manages to gather some energy to sit up on his elbows. “You should at least have some form of hospitality to a family friend, you know?”

You eye him for a long moment, and then finally huff, breaking the contact to kick your feet into the festive carpeted floor. “Alright, just don’t lean your whole body weight on me.”

“Wouldn’t count on that.”

Both of you end up tumbling onto the balcony rails around one in the morning. As expected, Satoru couldn’t keep to his promise, throwing his ridiculously long arms around your shoulders, and whining the whole way up the stairs. It’s not his fault that the inn didn’t have an elevator installed. In all, it’s not a bad day — a bad night, even. 

You straighten him against the railing before throwing a blanket over him. The fabric is thick and heavy, and Satoru forgets the ache in his limbs as he watches the way your eyes focus, eyebrows knitted, when you’re making sure he stays bundled up against the winter air. Once upon a time, Satoru never would’ve thought he would actually enjoy being in the company of someone who’s actively trying to teach him a lesson.

“Okay,” you say suddenly, almost like a reminder that you need to breathe, and pull away from him once he’s wrapped tightly like a swaddled baby. 

You both sit in silence for a moment, and Satoru feels the urge to fill all that silence. He supposes maybe that’s why most people find him so annoying. He never really shuts up, always wants to add the last comment to everything. Though, with the help of Suguru by his side, it’s gotten slightly easier and bearable for others but, when his head is big and full of loud thoughts, it’s so hard trying to calm the buzzing noise in his head and —

“Gojo, look,” your pointer finger darts at the illuminated skyline in the distance and he snaps his head, following the trail, before gasping.

He feels your other hand tugging at the blanket when he finally makes out two faint bright lights in the distance. You squirm slightly next to him, to the point where your shoulders touch, and Satoru finally breathes, because suddenly, there’s heat rushing in. The loud, rough winds around him seem to die down and he’s aware of the slightly gazed expression on your face as you look into the far distance.

“Did you make a wish?” he finds himself whispering.

You grin. “Yeah, gonna make you work here for eternity,” you reply back in good natured spirit.

Something stirs inside Satoru. Something important. Well, Satoru-level important, so in the grand scheme of things, not very — but still. He unravels parts of his blanket and throws it over your head, making sure that it messes up your hair, and laughs when you throw him another pout. 

“Did you make a wish?” you adjust the blanket so it covers your shoulders, moving a little closer to him, avoiding the cool breeze.

Satoru nods but presses a finger to his lips. “Not telling, though. Might not come true if I do.”

“Oh, shoot. Maybe I should’ve kept mine a secret then.”

He rolls his eyes and nudges your waist with an elbow. “You will definitely not see me here again.”

Satoru realizes, very fast, that his life has become very different, very quickly. And it might not be the bad kind of different. 

Over the course of the next few days, he’s practically glued to your side as you’re showing him all things related to hospitality that his father tried to drill into him when he was a pre-teen. Obviously, it didn’t work at the time. Satoru’s known for being defiant just because he wanted to, and eventually his father stopped with the after school etiquette lessons. You, on the other hand, unfortunately have him tied around your fingers.

“You need to tidy up the edges more, Gojo.”

“There’s barely a wrinkle in these sheets!” He points at the bed sheet on the mattress, the one that he’d been working on for the last ten minutes in vain while you stood next to him with slightly concerned eyes. It’s a room service type of lesson today and, even though Satoru has never made his own bed before, he’s positive that he didn’t leave behind any smudges that might catch anyone’s eye.

“Did you check tuck in the sides? Or are you trying to get off easy for today?” You say, there’s a mild accusation in your tone when you speak, smiling as you step aside. 

And, despite the warm smile, Satoru frowns a little, because guess who forgot to tuck in the sides? 

When Satoru ducks his head around the mattress and sees a good loose chunk of the sheets hanging off and groans when you’re right. “It’s not my fault that they’ve made them so big for no reason,” he replies, somewhat embarrassed, rubbing the back of his head and messing up his already ruffled hair.

You roll your eyes and stick a tongue out. “You’re getting the hang of it though, maybe even faster than Yuuji when he first offered to help.”

He flushes at the unexpected praise and quickly fixes the sheets, turning his whole entire body away from your sight. “Better than Yuuji, right?”

“Oh? So, you only work better with compliments, Gojo?” You sound amused, as if a lightbulb just popped on top of your head.  

Satoru flattens out the bed once more, strangely now feeling satisfied with the final outcome before turning around, sticking out a tongue of his own. “Only if it’s from you,” he answers, honestly. 

You laugh, and hopefully it’s not at him. “I thought you would be more annoying to deal with.”

“So, I’m just regular amounts of annoying?” He points out, with a fake frown, his fingers fiddling with the edges of the sheet.

You turn your gaze, seemingly in deep thought, before responding with a small shrug and grin. “Possibly a perfect amount of annoying.”

Satoru feels the blood rushing to his cheeks, again. “Well, of course, it’s the perfect amount because I’m perfect,” he replies, instantly, but suddenly he’s shy and feels the need to go to the next room to fix their stupid sheets before he combusts in front of you.

“Gojo,” you say, almost hesitantly. 

He swallows and rubs the back of his neck, wiping off evidence of his sweaty palms. “Yeah?”

“You missed a spot,” and your pointer fingers direct at the far right corner of the bed frame. He must’ve pulled the sides too hard and it caused the other side to flip over. Ugh, he’s not cut out for this at all.

“I’m… uh, still better than Yuuji, right?”

“Mhm, getting there, Gojo.”

By day four, Satoru has surprisingly adjusted to the rules and responsibilities. He’s not entirely sure what’s gotten him mildly well behaved, Suguru is a bit surprised by the daily updates being less… aggressive and whiny. What started as long vent paragraphs about the lack of heated flooring and needy customers, soon turned into photo albums of kids face planting into the snow and unconsented selfies with you in the background. Satoru absolutely makes sure you end up looking the worst out of the two because he’s gotta let his best friend know who’s the prettiest and he’s definitely racking up a blackmail album of all of your worst moments in case anything happens in the future. 

It’s closing time and he just got back from the reindeer shed out in the back, covered head to toe in all things hay and snow. First things first, and no one bothered to tell him, but reindeers smell bad. Like, really bad. Especially at the end of the day, where their pens are covered in shit and countless carrots and apple bits from the little kids overfeeding them. Satoru is vaguely aware of the fact that he smells, just like he’s vaguely aware that the hotel lobby is oddly quiet from the usual banter between you and the usual workers.

Utahime and Choso are sitting by the cafe bar, seemingly deep in conversation about ordering more supplies for next week. Satoru thinks about interrupting their session with probably an unrelated dumb question, but the idea dies when Utahime notices his presence and motions him to come over. 

“You stink,” Satoru casts a half-glare at Utahime and begins picking out some of the scattered hay pieces stuck to his sweater. 

“For the record, I became good friends with Rudolph and Vixen today,” he grumbles back and Choso throws him a pat on the back.

“Hey, I don’t mind your stink, by the way. Smells kinda nice,” Choso offers up, but Satoru only shoots him a very unhappy look.

“If you think I smell nice then I’m really worried about what you think smells bad,” then he turns over to Utahime again, who’s engrossed in whatever is on her clipboard right now. “So, what did you need from me?”

“My sister,” she starts and taps away at the clipboard before handing it over to him. It’s pages upon pages of invoices from the past month. “Could you hand this to her? She should be in the back.”

“You treating me like an errand boy?”

Utahime scoffs. “What? Don’t wanna see her?”

“No, I do,” he responds, a bit too fast for his own liking, and straightens out. “Uh, is that all?” Satoru hopes his face doesn’t betray how much he’s a bit excited to interact with you, given that today was a full day out in the trenches, and he absolutely needs to hear you say his name at least twice a day in order to have a good night’s sleep.

Choso is trying really hard not to laugh, and Satoru takes it as a sign that he currently has a cheesy smile on his face — go figure. “One of the corner rooms upstairs requested a weighted blanket, mind also doing that too?”

There’s a certain relief that floods through Satoru and he thinks maybe he can take on a few more tasks for the night if that means spending a little more time with you, even if his body is screaming that he needs to take a two hour long shower. 

“Hey,” he starts to say when he rounds the corner, “Where’d you put those weighted blankets again?”

Satoru expected to walk in on you neck-deep in paperwork. You’ve mentioned earlier in the week that this year would be the busiest and there’s a bunch of stuff due. Something about end of the year tax returns and inventory counts, it all goes out his ear but he remembers something similar that his father told him in a prior conversation. He thinks he could probably help you figure out some of it, but that might be a bit much.

What he walks in on, thought, is you sitting in your little makeshift office. You’re on your laptop, the screen’s tilted just right enough that he gets a glimpse of what you’re looking at. You’re looking at flights and hotels, even got a whole spreadsheet on the second monitor. From what he’s seen of you so far, you didn’t come off as the type to talk about your future that much.

His voice catches you by surprise and your expression flickers from something vaguely focused to embarrassment real quick. You hastily close out the tabs and go back to the hotel’s homepage.

“What is it, Gojo?” And there’s this awkward, oddly frantic moment of you fumbling around with the keyboard and mouse, like a teenage boy who’s just got caught looking at porn.

“Ah,” Satoru thinks seeing your flustered side is rather adorable, to say the least. “You tryin’ to plan a vacation or something?” He struts over to your desk, placing a firm hand onto the back of the chair, and there’s this smile on his face that just screams ‘gotcha’.

Your face scrunches up but it’s not out of annoyance. “Kinda?”

Even with a grumpy look, it’s a good look on you. Makes you kinda dark, brooding, and beautiful, and it turns your eyes into dark storm clouds, or some other weird, waxy poetic shit that Satoru can’t figure out the words to. Either way, Satoru thinks you look cute and can’t stop noticing your little facial movements. You’re more expressive than you would probably imagine.

“Ooh, where to?”

You sigh and start playing with your thumbs. “Malaysia. My friend told me great things about it and I’ve been meaning to go for a while now but time and money are always iffy.”

“Makes sense, I can imagine that being an inn assistant doesn’t pay all the bills.”

That was probably the wrong thing to say. You huff and glare, an icy-death glare, at him. If looks could kill, Satoru is sure that he’ll be six feet underground by now. 

“Weighted blankets are on the second floor closet by the laundry room,” you answer his initial question curtly before shutting the laptop. “Don’t stick your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

“It was just a question,” he mumbles slowly, and maybe even a little dangerously. “If money’s an issue—”

“Gojo.” Your voice is fixed and rigid, one that leaves absolutely no room for debate. “Your dad was right about you; you always just fall back to your fame and wealth.”

As you’re busy staring, Satoru realizes that you’re kinda being a total ass to him right now.

“That’s not fair,” his voice is rising and can’t seem to put a stop to the words spilling out. “Don’t bring my dad into this conversation.”

“Or what? You can go back to your privileged life anytime you want. This is just a field trip for you while others actually have to try hard and make a living.” You spit out. 

“No one forced you to become an inn worker, you know? If you’re so worried about money then you could’ve just found another high paying job.” Satoru wrinkles his nose and his volume continues to rise. 

You immediately offer him a dark glare and it comes off in a cut-throat way that shuts Satoru up mid thought. The rest of his counters die in his throat when you start making hand gestures at the office exit and he gets the hint: ‘leave before I lose my shit’ is the calling he sees.

And it works, because he finds his tone shifting a little, awkwardly kicking the floor and backing off. “Whatever…”

That was last night and, by now, Satoru is realizing that he’s kind of a giant asshole and the guilt is slowly eating away at him. Was he always like this? It couldn’t have been — he’s only met you a few days ago, and this is only meant to be a quick, ‘vacational’, getaway. Sure he might be a bit selfish and a dick, but he had been able to function perfectly fine before all of this, hadn’t he? 

Satoru’s not really sure.

It’s noon, and he’s lying in bed. Choso had asked him to cover his shift at the cafe, and he’d agreed, readily, even though it’s supposed to be his day off, because you’re working. Choso had texted him, though, saying that you had simply said you’d work the entire shift by yourself.

Of course. It’s absolutely not funny anymore.

Satoru sighs. He’s going to apologize, that’s for sure. It wounds some of his pride, yeah, but whatever, this tension between you guys, though, isn’t worth it. He finds himself wasting his entire morning away rotting in bed. There are things that he could be doing, that he looks forward to, like feeding the reindeers or demonstrating basic ski moves to little kids. Choso and Yuuji totally got him addicted to yelling out ‘pizza’ and ‘french fry’ at every chance he gets. They also got him addicted to a shitty relationship forum they both browse, but somehow the idea of reading other people’s relationship drama, when he’s facing drama of his own, is kinda mentally exhausting.

On second thought, maybe he should post on that forum, actually.

It might not be such a bad idea.

Or maybe he could reach out to Suguru and ask how to apologize? 

His best friend is a bit more grounded and attuned with other people���s feelings compared to him, afterall. Satoru’s not good at this stuff and he’s always just cut others off whenever they do argue, but this feels different. And, well, for the first time in forever, Satoru is desperate. 

“I fucked up big time and I need to apologize, help me out here?”

Suguru scoffs over the line. “Wow, what happened to saying ‘hello’ or ‘how are you’?”

Satoru rolls his eyes. “Hi, hello. How are you? How do I make a sincere apology?”

“I’m good, thank you. Now, for your request, depends on how big the fuck up is.”

He bites his tongue, finding the right words to essentially not sound like a huge dick but, no matter how he wants to rephrase it, the outcome is the same. “I might’ve implied that she’s poor and needs someone to take care of her?” It sounds so stupid, so mean, and so degrading now that he’s saying it out loud. 

He hears Suguru sucking in his teeth and sighs. After a couple of pauses, his best friend finally speaks. “That’s pretty fucked up.”

Satoru frowns. “Okay, yeah, it is,” and he sits up in his bed when a snowball makes an impact against the window. It’s Utahime. And, currently, she’s throwing him the nastiest glare that a woman has ever given him in his life. “Um, I’ll call you back, buddy…”

“What? I haven’t given you—”

“Don’t have time for unwarranted advice right now.”

“You called me!”

“Bye!” Satoru ends the call before shuffling towards the window, swallowing a hard lump, and inches the glass panel just small enough for him to hear coherently and not big enough for her to punt him across the face. “Lovely morning, isn’t it?”

But Utahime is in an obvious shitty mood and Satoru’s lack of charming antics aren’t going to work this time. “I’m going to apologize, I promise,” he tries to insist.

“This is all your fault,” she immediately gets to the point and it makes him shrink back just a tiny bit. He’s starting to see that the bluntness runs in the family. “Just get your ass to work.”

“But my shift doesn’t start till—”

“Doesn’t matter,” Utahime starts to form an even bigger snowball and raises it to the window panel. “Ass out of bed, now.”

Okay, so as much as Satoru had tried to tell himself that this week wouldn’t be bad, it’s really starting to get fucking awful.

Everyone’s in a shit mood. Yuuji tries to crack some jokes but the usual crowd isn’t having it. You’ve been throwing Satoru dirty looks while working behind the cafe counter together and he’s been put on drink duty — which is his worst nightmare — while you’re attending to the customers because you’re young and cute enough for them to be nice to you. Satoru has spilled hot coffee and chocolate on himself like four times so far, and the shift just started. He’s terrified that the rest of this week is going to be like this.

“Can we talk?” Satoru whisper shouts over the espresso machine.

He sees your shoulders tensing up but immediately relaxes them afterwards. “Did you hear something, Yuuji?”

The boy looks up from the bar counter, it’s his day off and he’s catching up on some homework, but the seemingly growing tension that’s unfolding in front of him is making it painfully hard for him to focus on anything engineering related. Yuuji scratches the back of his neck before darting his eyes back and forth between the two of you. Normally, he would be the voice of reason, but Satoru doesn’t blame him when he shakes his head.

“N-Nah, must’ve been the wind or something...” 

Great, he’s been reduced to an air draft.

“Mhm, that’s what I thought,” you agree without missing a beat. As the next customer in line spends an eternity holding everyone up, debating whether to get the seasonal muffin or french toast to go with their drink, you continue, “Thought I heard a rotten brat for a second.”

He absolutely doesn’t expect the harsh insult. Satoru widens his eyes at the outburst and there’s a small pause, the silence ticking in between everyone, and he’s sure that you’re glaring him down somewhere in a small reflection on the counter. 

Satoru debates whether to call out your name and shake some sense into you, but Yuuji quickly swallows and makes a motion with his hands to his throat, a universal signal saying — ‘I wouldn’t test the waters, if I were you’.

And, after the customer finally decides that they didn’t want any pastries with their coffee order, you finish the transaction before announcing that you’re going on a small fifteen minute break to “stretch”. Though, anyone could see that you’re planning to cool off before you manage to actually blow up in Satoru’s face.

“How the hell am I going to talk to her?” he groans to Yuuji once you’re finally away. He’s managing the cash register and, surprisingly, finishes taking the remaining orders quite smoothly compared to his first day. At least he can pat himself on the back for this. 

“You’ve really pissed her off, dude,” Yuuji replies and Satoru just rolls his eyes because that’s all he’s been hearing from everyone else all day today. “You should talk to her when she’s not… charged up.”

“Way to point out the obvious.” Sometimes he forgets that Yuuji is a bit oblivious. How is he doing so well as a mechanical engineering major? 

Yuuji makes an audible ‘pop’ and whistles. “What did you even say to her?”

Satoru groans into his hands. “Did she not tell you?”

“Well, she wasn’t exactly in a chippy mood to talk about anything this morning — outside of work, that is.”

“Here’s a little TLDR version: might’ve said something classist.”

“Might’ve?”

“Okay, definitely said something classist.”

“Then…” Yuuji drums his fingers against the counter, deep in thought. “Y’know, whenever me and Megumi fight, I always invite him out to the movies to try and cheer him up. Might not be applicable to you but…”

Satoru blinks. “Are you suggesting a date would help?”

“Maybe not a date—”

“No, I’m sorry for calling you dumb, you’re so right—a nice date might work!”

“You never called me dumb, though?”

“Yeah, okay, whatever you say, kiddo.”

Satoru unravels the ribbon on his apron and throws it in Yuuji’s general direction, not caring if he tossed the stained uniform directly in his face. He hops the counter and pats the younger male on the shoulder, flashing him a genuine smile because, hey, maybe Yuuji actually is smarter than he looks.

“Gonna totally invite you to the wedding.”

It’s no secret that Satoru Gojo hasn’t been on a proper date in a pathetically long time.

He has swiped right on a number of highly influential celebrities and figures on dating apps before. Matched with nearly all of them. Gone on…maybe a lot of first dates with not a lot of second dates coming right after. Who cares though, everyone’s just there for the photos and followers anyway. Satoru knows that he’s attractive and that he personally loves big, lavish dates but, at this point, he knows you enough to understand you absolutely hate big gestures. 

After a short winded conversation with Suguru and Utahime, separately, Satoru has concluded on not buying you first class tickets to Malaysia. 

“Are you trying to get her to hate your guts?” Was the general consensus of the conversation with said people. 

So, what’s the next best option if he can’t fly you out to Malaysia? The answer is pretty simple — bring Malaysia to Mistle Town. And no, he’s not going to be relying on his black card for anything, even though the back of his mind is telling him otherwise. 

Choso blinks several times at Satoru’s printed out proposal. The colorful letters and Google image photos of beaches and coconuts slapped poorly onto the document screams back at Choso and Yuuji, bright and early on Christmas Eve. 

It’s unusual for Satoru to be bouncing excitedly in place for someone other than himself. So this catches everyone off guard. 

Yuuji whispers something intangible to Choso, but Satoru is able to make it out as, “Do we even have coconuts here?”

To which Choso replies, “It’s winter, so I don’t think so.”

And Yuuji moves onto the next question in queue, “What should we do about the lack of palm trees?”

A patient sigh from Choso, “We could always trim the pine trees outside?” He lamely suggests. 

“It’s a good idea, no?” Satoru jumps right back in, completely missing the flat vibe from the brothers. He frowns. “Why are you guys giving me that look?” 

And, like his best friend and your sister, the brothers throw him a confused head tilt. 

“Well,” Yuuji weakly starts, “Your plan ‘Project: Bring Malaysia here in hopes of Y/N falling in love with me’ doesn’t really sound that great… even on paper.”

Satoru grins, fully expecting that to be the response. “I’ll order the things, don’t worry about it. I just need to borrow your lungs for this project.”

Yuuji scratches his cheek in confusion, laughing nervously again. “Our lungs…?” he echos. 

“How long do I have to keep this dumb blindfold on, Choso?”

“U-Um,” Choso shoots Satoru a brow as he carefully guides you through the hotel lobby. 

It’s currently decked out from head to toe in all things yellow, green, and pink beach themed inflatables. Choso and Yuuji reminded Satoru last night that maybe two flamingos would’ve been enough to get the message across, but seeing that he ordered a whole colony? Yeah, he’s sending the rich boy prayers as he reels you in further, avoiding collision with the colorful balloons and seven-foot tall palm trees, too.

“Choso?”

He squeezes your shoulders when Satoru shoots him a thumbs up. “Ten seconds.”

Satoru quietly walks over to both of you, tip toeing so the sounds of his loafers are minimized against the flooring. Once he’s inches away, Choso retreats off into a different room, mouthing to him words of final encouragement, which Satoru gladly took. 

You appear restless under the blindfold. “I swear to god, if I take it off and there’s a giant pile of reindeer shit in the middle of the lobby I will actually kill somebody—”

And Satoru quietly debates whether or not he wants to keep you like this for a little while before revealing the big surprise. Seeing you flustered and confused is a very cute look on you, after all. But, he’s gotten you this far and it would absolutely kill him to leave you on such a bad notice. It’s now early evening, and the sun’s just starting to set enough that the golden rays illuminate your features from this angle. It takes Satoru back to his first private meeting with you on the balcony and he remembers why he’s even doing this in the first place.

Carefully and slowly, he slips down the blindfold and softly calls out your name. “Hey, take a look around you.”

Your eyes are blown wide when you see his face. Anger and frustration dissipate from your face when you soon realize that Satoru carries a soft expression. He watches as the emotions wash off as quickly as they came. Then, you finally take a look around your surroundings and gasp. “You—You did all of this for me?”

Satoru tenses a little, a bit on the edge. “You want the short or long answer?”

You don’t notice because you’re too preoccupied with the numerous fake flamingos around you. “On second thought, maybe no answer would also work.”

He laughs at this, slightly, before turning shy again. He feels silly, ashamed, and it makes his cheeks flush. “I wanted to say sorry again for what I said earlier.”

“You finally want to talk about it?”

He looks at your idle hands and then back to your face. When he sees that you don't move them away as he inches closer, he takes both of them into his palms, giving them a tight squeeze. “Yeah, I was a big idiot and I thought I was trying to help in the beginning but I just sounded—no, I am—a giant ass.” Satoru concludes. 

The atmosphere grows quiet and heavy again. The air humid and thick despite the opened windows and you’re looking at him. Then, there are tiny little smiles that break out on your face, like freckles and stars in the sky. 

“You’re such a pillow princess,” and he outright blushes ten shades darker at the nickname, “you’re lucky you’re cute.” Coming from you, that’s as good as a love confession.

I like you, he thinks, but doesn’t say it. He really likes you and doesn’t want to fuck this up.

But, everyone knows that Satoru Gojo is a child at heart. 

Satoru doesn’t know who gives in first; realistically, it might’ve been one of those stupid, rare, impossible moments where it’s completely shared. Suddenly the gaudy blow up palm trees and inflatable pool blur from his vision and he feels the world roaring around him when your palms rest on his cheeks. He ducks his head down but you’re the one who closes the distance between. 

You taste like strawberries and lavender, smell like warm cocoa, and feel softer than any sherpa blanket he’s had. Satoru closes his eyes and his vision goes white, his hands shakily snake around your waist, pressing you hard against his chest as if you might disappear at any moment. Satoru sighs into the kiss, it feels pleasantly warm, that throb in his chest, it’s a slow, steady thrum of simmering desire and comfort. He’s pretty sure he’s adding way too much tongue, the drool and saliva that comes dripping between you two will be uncomfortable soon, but for now, it adds to the blissed out, satisfaction you’re both basking in.

Finally, you pull away, shortening yourself a good several inches from planting the rest of your feet on the ground. Your eyes are glossed over, watery and looking at him without vexation. “You’re something else.” You say, but there’s no bite.

Satoru doesn’t speak for a moment. He’s too focused on the feeling of your warm fingers sprawled all over his heating face. Too focused on the dull pulse of both nervousness and infatuation slowly spreading through his body because you’re giving him that look. This all feels romantic and stupid, he thinks.

“I’m sorry, again.” The words are quiet, hesitant, and Satoru almost regrets them the moment he speaks.

You shift around a little, now dancing on the balls of your feet, but the grasp you have on his cheeks is still relatively firm, even applying a bit of more pressure as if it’s your way of showing reassurance. You tip your head; your eyes are so vivid and bright, it sends a shiver down Satoru’s spine. In this moment, he remembers every single thing between them in shocking detail — the awkwardness, the tension, the frustration, the dumb banters, and suddenly he’s overwhelmed.

“I’ll forgive you if you give me a private city tour,” you laugh. “And come back to work with us again next year.”

Satoru offers a small smile. “Unpaid?”

“Will you say no if it is?”

He hugs you tighter, a chuckle bubbles in his throat. “I don’t think I can say no because it’s you.”

Though, while some might think that Satoru is the real loser here for being whipped so hard over a small town girl, you know that deep down the real loser is you. Because you managed to have the son of a CEO wrapped around your fingers and now you will never know peace again. But you’re not really complaining; instead, you’re working even harder to save just enough to eventually see your dream destination while Satoru whines and sends an ungodly amount of selfies everyday when he’s back home. And you won’t allow yourself to get snappy because, well, you’re very much head over heels for him, too.

© 2023 DOOBEA. do not copy any of my writing and translate/repost.

#event: i got my eyes on youೄྀ࿐ˊˎ #doobea writing #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk fluff #gojo fluff #satoru gojo fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk x fem!reader #jujutsu kaisen x female reader

[upsidedownwithsteve]

CH10. Cheque, Please! | The Menu [2.2K] Eddie Munson x shy fem!reader: a line cook au.

ONE YEAR LATER

The diner was packed. 

Tables were full, the large room a buzz of chatter and music, the speakers playing an old sixties bop. It was a familiar sight, one that happened more often than not since Jim sold the diner. The new owner ripped the place apart, down to its old bones before he put his life savings into it. 

New floors, new tables and chairs, artwork on the walls that were signed by Argyle, a photo of the whole staff taken and framed by Jonathan, Jim Hopper at the forefront, a wide smile on his face on the last day before his retirement. The bulbs in the neon sign outside had been replaced so it no longer flickered, the green and blue glow of it now announcing the diner’s new name, proud and bright for everyone to see. 

Eddie’s Slice Of Chicago. 

“Door! Behind!” You yelled out as you entered the kitchen empty plates piled high in your arms and Jonathan took them from you with practised ease. 

Steve was on the grill, still hesitant and not as fast as Argyle, but he was flipping burgers quicker than he had last week. His chef whites were brand new, his name badge shiny and his front of house position taken over by Nancy. Everyone was in new uniforms, freshly pressed and a sage green, aprons still without stains and a pocketful of pens that didn’t run out of ink too quickly. Robin was taking orders, laughing with a family from out of town, letting their toddler grab at her finger as she promised them to return soon with their pizzas and shakes. Dustin was helping Max run a large order to a table of backpackers, a border collie under the table at their feet, getting its ears scratched by the new start, Mike. 

There was a sign on the staff notice board, up beside the employee of the month, a piece of ripped paper with the words “SIXTY FOUR DAYS SINCE THE LAST FREEZER BREAKDOWN.” The rest of the space was filled with staff photos, polaroids and prints of the group at a fourth of July picnic, a barbecue at Jim’s in the summer, huddled around the kitchens countertops in the winter, drinking from mugs filled with Argyle’s homemade horchata, the frame that held Billy’s scrawled termination letter, an old napkin that held a small conversation in pen. 

It felt more like home than ever. Even when Eddie wasn’t there. 

Everyone answered to you in his absence, unofficially in charge when the boss wasn’t here. It had taken some getting used to, hell, you’d even tried to pawn off the responsibility to Nancy, or Steve, anyone who’d been at the grill longer than you had. But Nancy was part time, back at college during the week, taking Robin on dates in the evenings and Steve was too busy being trained as a new prep chef to worry about invoices and deliveries. 

So you stepped into the role cautiously, softening to the idea when Eddie kissed you something fierce and told you that there wasn’t anyone else he trusted to do the job. His acceptance letter had come the month after taking over the diner. A thick, white envelope that lay heavy on your doormat because he’d finally moved in, sharing your small apartment with you like he did everything else. 

Clothes. Jewellery. Books. Records. Food. Kisses. 

Vincennes University offered Eddie the chance to do what he hadn’t been able to before. Refining his craft, learning new skills, working in a state of the art kitchen with equipment he’d come home and gush to you about. The diner was doing well enough that tuition wasn’t a worry anymore and suddenly, the long commute into Indianapolis for classes four days a week seemed worth it. Eddie was passing with flying colours, receiving accolades and opportunities at every given moment and when he came home, exhausted but happy, he came home to you. 

Bone tired, he’d slip into the apartment, socked feet padding gently over the floorboards, Tupperware full of something delicious to be stacked in the fridge. He’d find you curled up somewhere, a black cat called Basil in the nook of your bent legs. He’d kiss you sweet, he’d kiss you soft, warming you up to a simmer until you forgot how much you’d missed him that day. 

It was all worth it. 

“Table eighteen wants extra hash browns and booth six needs two pepperoni’s and the Hawkins special, chefs,” you called to Steve as you slapped the orders onto the bar. 

“Got it,” Steve and Argyle called back, one a little more nervously than the other but it was okay, ‘cause Eddie was home soon. 

Eddie was home soon. 

He’d called from a pay phone outside of the school, voice buzzing with excitement, with pride, and yours mirrored his back. He’d be on the train soon, he’d meet you at the apartment, if you could get away early. So you handed your keys to Nancy and she grinned, knowing there was a cause for celebration waiting at home for you. You drove Eddie’s van back along the road, coming into town on the familiar stretch, passing Wayne’s, the trailer park you both visited every Sunday for dinner. 

The apartment door was unlocked, dimly lit in the early fall gloom, already smelling like garlic and tomatoes, like fresh bread and the scent of Eddie cologne that lingered on his jacket that hung in the hallway. Eddie’s records were in the shelves by your books, his guitar hanging from a hook in the tiny office room, his shoes on the bench by the door. He’d transformed your kitchen when he’d moved in, a decision that had been all too easy to make. There were  pots and pans hanging from the rack, shiny, sharp knives that he was scared of you using without him there, jars and tubs of ingredients stacked high in the fridge and the pantry. There were fresh herbs in planters on the window sill. The radio always played. 

The kitchen always felt like the heart of the home. 

That’s where you found Eddie, sweater sleeves rolled up and grinning at you from the stove top, a large spoon in hand as he mixed in some fresh rosemary to the pot of sauce. He greeted you with a glass of wine, the cheap stuff that you liked best, catching you in a kiss before you could bring the cup to your lips. 

He kissed you soft, kissed you sweet, humming when you laughed into his mouth, his free hand slipping inside of your shirt to ghost his fingers over your ribs. 

“Hi,” you whispered. You’d never tire of this. This warmth, this kind of greeting, this feeling of coming home. “Good day?”

Eddie nodded, stealing another kiss, catching the corner of your mouth. He gazed at you, eyes shining with excitement and you could practically feel the buzz in his bones for what he was about to say. 

“I got it.”

You blinked, once, before your smile turned into a grin and it stretched wide. You barely had the common sense to place your wine on the countertop before you launched yourself at the boy, your arms wound round his neck as your crushed your face into his curls. Eddie whooped, a joyful thing as he lifted you off your feet and grinned against your throat. 

“You got it,” you whispered back to him, everything in you frilled with awe and pride. 

“I got it,” he repeated again. His voice sounded thick. 

The internship with Chef Emmelie was something that everyone in Eddie’s class was vying for. Eddie had spent an insane amount of time on his application, using you as his own personal taste tester in both work and home. New recipes were concocted, old dishes were reworked and it had all paid off. Eddie had been hand picked to work alongside one of the country’s greats, assisting in setting up a new restaurant, a fine dining establishment that promised to deliver nothing but the best cuisine to the masses. Eddie would help create the menu, and hopefully, maybe, eventually, take over as head chef. 

It was another level of surreal. 

“I knew you would,” you mumbled into his neck, pulling back only to crush Eddie’s cheeks in the palms of your hands and give him a kiss that ducked his breath away. His lips tasted salty, but perhaps that was your own tears you could taste. Eddie just held onto you tighter, his stew mix bubbling away without any attention. “Where is it? Have they told you where you’re setting up?”

You’d held Eddie’s hand as he clutched his application letter and promised him that no matter where they sent him, you’d follow. The only thing that tied you to Hawkins, was the boy and Basil was easy enough to smuggle into a cat carrier, once you could catch him. Wayne had squashed any hesitancy from Eddie immediately, waving him off and saying that there would be private jets for each of you once he hit the big time as the new celebrity chef. And of course, there was the diner. 

Eddie laughed then, a breathy, disbelieving thing and he finally shuffled to settle you onto the small dining table that sat in the corner of the kitchen. He nudged his way in between your legs, sniffling when Basil appeared to wind around his own ankles and the only sounds were the purring of the cat and the simmering of dinner. You held your breath, brows raised, expectant. 

London? Dubai? Paris? Los Angeles?

“They wanna set up in Chicago.”

—————

Going back to the city you left was a lot less daunting with Eddie by your side. 

Wayne moved out of the trailer park and into your apartment, something that made leaving a little easier for Eddie. He still owned the diner, and promised to stop by at least a few times a month if scheduling around the new restaurant would allow. He’d found a new manager, a woman from town called Joyce who loved to bake and knew enough about taxes and accounting that she didn’t fuck up order and invoices. She loved the place like Eddie did, promised she’d do it proud. 

(She met Jim on Sunday in summer and after she served him her famous cherry cheesecake, one date in the park had turned into three, into five and now they were inseparable. They spent most of their time walking around town, visiting farmers and Jim enjoyed his retirement by helping Joyce create new desserts for the diner.)

Eddie’s internship came with an apartment in the suburbs, a small townhouse that was far enough from the hustle of the city that you felt more at home than before. It was less bright, less loud and Basil had a garden to roam in, a bench beside a vegetable patch he could bathe in the sun from. 

It had a pantry and old oak floors, a huge window that looked out onto the street that was lined with cherry trees, and a nook in the living room that you liked to read in. You found a job, pretty easily, a vintage bookstore on the edge of town that smelled like coffee and cinnamon, old pages and older stories. It was owned by an old man who let his dog sleep under the front desk, who brought in pastries for breakfast and made you sweet tea in the summer. 

The restaurant opened in the spring. Hit headlines the following day, praising the special on the menu made by newcomer chef, Edward Munson. By the summer, the heat was climbing and so was Eddie’s popularity. He was running the restaurant, got to create a new menu every six weeks and the waitlist was booked out until Christmas. He told you he loved you every time you paid him a visit, on your lunch break, a whisper between a kiss hello and goodbye in the kitchen, coy whistles from his staff that he burned pink at. 

And when you both drove back to Hawkins for long weekends and holiday stays, you crammed yourselves and Basil into your old apartment with Wayne, packed his freezer full of food and tried to convince him to take in one (maybe two) of the strays from the trailer park to keep him company. 

You spent the Fourth of July with the diner crew, in the backyard of Jim and Joyce’s new home, sharing Polaroids and newspaper clippings of the restaurant, of your new home, Eddie’s menu. Steve was in awe but nothing could beat the look of pride on your boyfriend’s face when Steve told him he’d mastered a French omelette. Argyle was running the kitchen, Nancy had been promoted to assistant manager, part time or not, and Robin had helped Jonathan in running a Sunday morning coffee club, where Hawkins residents got to taste test new bean flavours over a pastry breakfast and some town gossip. 

Eddie didn’t scowl much, not anymore. 

And when you next bumped into Chrissy, you waved at her from under the tuck of Eddie’s arm, diamond ring glinting on your left hand in the sun. She didn’t have much to say to you, not after that. 

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fluff

[thatdeadaquarius]

College be kicking my ass but we continue on like Scaramouche (alive and kicking, but still crabby about it all lmfao)

Random idea but what happens when the acolytes got hold of Creator that is able to squeeze into small places (like a cat would but less liquid) and knows how to escape? Think of sagau but instead of all the deaths, its just they got overexited and chased the Creator the moment they see them which scared them shitless seeing a mob just appear out of nowhere.

I mean who wouldn't after seeing your favourite person in your favourite game just appear right in front of you? (I apologize in advance to the poor unfortunate sucker)

Imagine a world-wide search that keeps getting them heart attacks. Venti just flying by with Dvalin ony to see you on top of the floating pillar above Dragonspine LEANING PRECARIOUSLY OH MY ARCHONS GET AWAY FROM THE EDGE---

Zhongli walking around trying to find peace and quiet only to sense your presence which led him towards Azhdaha's domain and nearly shouted in terror seeing you hanging by one of the limestones above the slumbering dragon your grace what and how the in the fucking name of teyvat did you---

Yae Miko screaming in surprise seeing you inside one of the cupboards of your grace's house (you made a small temporary one in each country in case u need more rest) that she and Ei found in one of the remote islands.

Nahida and the entire Forest Rangers having one of the most intense, frustrating and most challenging game of hide and seek in the entire freaking forest.

You hiding underneath the sand like a fricking snake everytime Cyno spots you from a disrance.

-Vine Boom 🧨

I am no longer apologizing for lateness simply bc atp its basically assumed Im terribly sorry 💀 /so gen

  

Content under -----------------✄

☆

Sun: Reader, (you/they/them)

Orbit: Headcanons-ish, Imposter SAGAU? Imposter SAGAU Reversed Ver? unclear (NOT DARK)

Stars: little here, little there

Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: reader/you thinks everyone is hunting them down, dark sagau fake-baiting lmao, & Trigger Warnings: none known.

Please comment if I missed any. /gen

No but the traumatic experience of you cautiously wandering into Mondstadt after realizing ur in Genshin like, ✨👄✨

and every single street/alleyway you try to go down to even avoid it is just people all looking at you like: 👁️👄👁️ ???

and ur over here equally just like: 😃 tf u lookin at????

u get up near the cathedral and finally see a playable character, Barbara, and she just fully GASPS and POINTS at you like she’s getting paid to be an actor for this

shouting sm nonsense like: “My Creator??? King of All???? IS THAT YOU?????”

and after which a few nuns check the commotion, Rosaria and Barbara’s Visions are glowing, and all join in heckling you

Venti coming (literally) flying around a corner on a breeze, saying he was trying to catch up to you, and ohhh now ur Convinced:

None of these bitches must be happy to see you, you did forcefully control their bodies if by the sounds of it they knew you/they must’ve been aware during the game, aw damn looks like u gotta run for your life now

You just book it out of Mond, Venti/Barbara yelling after you to come back, and meanwhile you’re leaving a shell-shocked Jean/Diluc/Kaeya (with Visions glowing) in ur wake on the way out

Not one being, mortal or otherwise, convinces you to stay in Mond, and you finally get to Dragonspine- the only place u know they wont follow

(well maybe the pyro characters but ur betting if u can make it up the mountain theyre not committed to,, running you down? arresting you?? ur not sure)

u make it all the way up and luckily everythings all solved like u did in the game, the traveler must be well into teyvat by now, and u decide to say “for the already achieved achievement” and fuck around and find out near the nail

U thought as u finally got on it u heard a scream somewhere in the sky, and u spotted Dvalin carrying Venti/Barbatos, and once again book it out of town (damn u cant believe theyre so committed they got the dragon in on it…)

so u haul ass all the way down the mountain, traveling only at night, living like a vampire, holing up during the day when u see Mond citizens/knights/gods/etc. walking around presumably looking for you

but u make it, finally! sweet, sweet Liyue, ur 2nd home (besides Mondstadt)

Only to immediately, like right outside the fucking gates to Liyue Harbor, run into Zhongli.

and he’s standing there like this mf knew u were coming, and the first thing out his mouth is some BS like, “…Darnell, that you??”/ref LMAOO

but instead of laughing abt it u just scream and run for your life haha

oh jesus h christ- he’s sending the adepti after you fuck- how hated are you??

sure u maybe hate Celestia a little, and sympathize with the traveler, but this seems a little extreme?!

you go to the one place u know he/any other adeptus doesnt like to come often, Azdaha’s cave

and after a night (well, day bc ur sleeping during the day now) of Azdaha sleeping peacefully, he wakes up fully coherent and u actaully have a rlly pleasant conversation with him about Liyue food lol

he also kept mentioning some kind of god? but like in reference to you?? are u connected to them, u kinda know a lot of gods atp so ur not sure which he means, a god to rule them all??? Celestia?? yeah u guess u know those fucks-

Cue u looking down from ur perch in the stalagmites above, u found a ledge and Azdaha helped you,

only to see a very concerned and borderline nervous Zhongli down below, Azhdaha just greets him like nothing’s wrong, but as soon as he sees you’re uncomfortable, helps you escape (more like teleport) away

(the old geo archon was probably nervous just be around Azhdaha u assume)

and now ur on the islands of Inazuma

u know exactly what islands are all but abandoned, the ghost one, the electrocuting one, and the scary bird one, all great options 👍

Raiden and Yae Miko manage to find you on every single one, with Yae getting more and more exasperated, and Ei getting more and more concerened with every position they find you in

hanging out on the banks of the electro river that would kill you if it weren’t for the little electro trees fending it off (thank fuck u maxed that shit out while in game)

bc u assumed they’d hate to be around it, plus lots of ronin- nope Ei is almost… scolding you?? oh but she’s got her Musou no Hitotachi out fuCK-

(she was slaying ronins that were getting too close to you)

she also is constantly jumpscaring you on tsurumi island/ghost island bc while the ghosts are gone, the creepy atmosphere isn't, and it makes her all the more terrifying as The Raiden Shogun comes walking out of the fog into the cave you've hidden in, stuff of ur nightmares for weeks as u just bird box style try to be silent and stealth around the island to get to an abandoned boat,

literally her scary ass purple sword glowing silhouette wandering around in the fog as you paddle away 💀

getting to thunder bird island and Yae Miko is literally both running/teleporting as quickly as she can to you, as you jump from floating rock to floating rock to escape her, god its so unnerving to watch someone so lazy running after you

she keeps getting in this weird “praising the heavens pose” sometimes when you jump, oh shit she’s aiming hER ATTACKS AT YOU THATS WHY-

oh good- she missed and deflected some stray debris coming ur way, u gotta get to the bird area and see if you can glide away (u managed to get a glider at some point thank fuck)

the bird is luckily on ur side against all these mfs trying to hunt u down (for controlling their bodies u guess) and flies u back to mainland teyvat

sumeru u thought would have the most mercy on u tbh, maybe fontaine bc Neuvillette only rlly cares if u break “fontaine” laws, maybe he wouldn't care to chase down a mortal like u over this

and nahida bc shes just nice

which is somewhat true, as you are acting like tarzan swinging around on vines and shit to escape the forest rangers

but she does show up in ur dreams, but shes just all foggy or distorted, u guess bc ur not of this world or smth??

and so it just unnerves u more, and u try to make it out to the desert, where at least there's no gods to worry about

mf ur hunkered down in a pyramid and see the shadowy shape of Cyno walking thru a sandstorm at you 💀

U dont kno how u got out of that one tbh, smth abt “king deshret made a plan for this” and left it behind for ppl to use to escape underground, sweet

And while Nahida and other eremites, scholars like Alhaitham/Kaveh/Dehya were looking around the desert sands, u slip by them

And u make it to the oasis at the edge of the desert, and steal an old rowboat to cross to fontaine (if i had a nickel everytime u needed to escape a god via old rowboat, youd have 2 nickels- )

and getting to Fontaine is not much better.

U literally get to the clockwork tower, foggy, ominous, uninhabited except for treasure-seekers occasionally, its perfect

until Neuvillette himself just strolls in abt 3 nights of u making camp there

u nearly shit urself as he just fake-knocked on a wall, meanwhile ur like hanging from the ceiling (four limbs out suspending you type of fictional shit)

luckily, mostly bc u were trying to wait him out (which wasn't possible ur limbs hurt so bad) he was, finally, the first person around u long enough to be genuinely kind and patient and answer questions

(Neuvillette acc couldn't figure out where u were at first, and was very confused how u got ur voice to boom around this chamber of the tower, after a minute of talking u trusted him enough to tell him to look up lol)

just in time too, he was able to hide u from the archons a little longer bc u were nervous

(u were already intimidated enough by Neuvillette being irl himself, talking to you, let alone all the other gods/vision users, as u realized afterwards thinking abt all the ppl trying to “hunt u down”, that if they all counted as ppl actually wanting to see you, that was a rlly overwhelming amount, esp if their first instinct is to run at you??? what are you, a fan-abused/disrespected kpop idol????)

☆

trying to be fancy and schedule posts once i get enough free time to actually wrangle my adhd to actually partake in my favorite hobbies 💀

well as long as I'm not getting slammed with lots of shifts again

hope u guys had a great weekend and have a good week! Happy late Valentine’s Day :)

Safe Travels Vine Boom,

💀♒

If you wanna join a taglist, DM me what for! "Pspspsss, please tag me for [All SAGAU posts, Only SAGAU Language AUs, diff fandom, etc.]!"

(If you ever wanna drop, just DM me! "No more taglists/[specifically this AU/fandom] please!")

♡the Beloveds♡

@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist / @thedevioussmirk / @the-dumber-scaramouche / @chocogi / @fallen-starr / @areaderofbooks / @devilangel657 / @esthelily / @justinsomniachild / @nanithefuck / @questionotmystopit

@kiyomi-uchiha777

#genshin sagau #sagau #genshin isekai #genshin imagines #aqua asks #my asks #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact sagau #genshin self aware au #ok but like more acc self aware au i promise #bc they knew u were there while gaming #esp if u played genshin 6+ months or like over a year #these mfs know ur Laugh at this point why wouldnt they kno ur face #anyway that eldritch au 1st part looking lonely #sorry my inbox hasnt been open for like a year #im just now getting thru my mail pretty decently #so shouldnt be too much longer #tysm for this old ask vine boom anon<333 #aqua out ✌️

[scribetry]

imagine living in a place like this with wriothesley, everything being so unfathomably perfect it almost felt like dream.

the two of you are constantly tired of taking care of four little critters, too many acres to count, and a cottage house so ridiculously small that shouldn't even be named after a beech tree...

but its a simple and happy little life that took a lot of sacrifices― you watch the sunrise kiss the apples of his cheeks every morning through the casement windows of your shared en suite. of course, his raspy and rich laugh reaches your ears way before you're able to roll over in the bedsheets searching for his presence.

from this distance, you're able to discern him in huge cotton overalls with a straw hat that his kids insisted on matching with him when he gardened. dirt often collected under his fingernails despite how chipped and short they were against the tips, but your daughter wanted you to teach her how to knit, just so she could feel like she did more than her brothers in the backyard.

they were patterned with flowery embroidery which never tried matching her fathers aesthetic, yet he always seemed to find himself frequently washing them, pestering her when she was going to make him a hat, or a pot, or a jar filled with "100 reasons why i love my daddy".

and when you didn't see him outside, with little hushes of your boys squealing as wriothesley would drench them with the outside hose, rubbing soil all over his kids, or rigorously teaching them how to set up fertilises, you always awoke to a delicious aroma of coffee and maple syrup. like it was the only thing to remember the weekends by.

one by one your kids would push through the tiny opening on your bedroom, the smallest one being lifted up hastily under her armpits by her dad; and they'd jump on you, screaming "wake up! wake up! it's pancake time!!"

you didn't mind, though, seeing wriothesley was always the last to leave. your cat often hated this.

"good morning, beautiful, did you sleep well?"

and then he'd remind you of what else he'd done while you were sleeping; setting up flowers in a fresh vase that reminded him of you when he was out in town, more seedlings which were bound to get lost in your shed somewhere, and raw honey that was a "necessity" for whenever your kids got the flu.

he was more innocent than you originally thought he was― his rough exterior becomes more and more welcoming, and his smile turns more handsome.

maybe this life felt so simple because wriothesley was the epitome of that. maybe this life felt so homely because your kids reminded you every day of how much they loved you. maybe this life felt so real because you had already gotten everything you wanted and much more.

#—stellaronhvnters. #wriothesley x reader #genshin x reader #wriothesley fluff #genshin fluff #genshin impact #wriothesley

[alchemicaladarna]

So I just wanted to take a moment to highlight baghera's reaction to the letters today. I say letters not death, because she doesn't even know qBad died, and nobody really knows because even Pomme and Dapper thought he's still alive somewhere ;-;

BUT ANYWAYS, when q!Baghera first read the letter that was addressed to her, you can see how shocked and worried she is. Like there's this panic on her face that's just hard to describe. The letter doesn't give any information on qBad's fate, so all she knows is Dapper and Pomme must be taken care of for some reason.

QBad told her he's dying a week ago, but qBaghera probably thought they had more time to fix it. I mean, how could she have known how much worse it's truly gotten since she barely saw the development of the infection even before they were sent to Purgatory?

So she frantically warps to his house and tries to find any more information. This is the first time we get to see the Halo house after qBad's death. The long hallways are big, empty, and silent. And there's this sense of haunting uneasiness because qBaghera is basically in a ghost town. She is walking around the house, not knowing it's the last place qBad has been before he died at least 100 blocks further away into the flower fields. But she continues her search anyways.

Where is he? What did that idiot do? Did he exile himself? He spoke like an old cat going away before his death.

And then she read the letter qBad wrote for Pomme and Dapper, and the dread sinks in further because of how final it sounds. But it can't be true, right? He's not dead, he just exiled himself far away. There's still a chance to save and find him right? But there was nothing qBaghera could do at the moment, because she barely has the information to piece together a conclusion from everything that's been occuring for the past half of a year.

There's still a chance to save him, she just needs more information from Pomme. You can see how she reassures herself and pushes down the dreaded possibility that he's dead. She can't afford to think about qBad, one of her closest friends, dying/dead because there will be nothing she can do at that point.

If qBaghera assumes the worst, it would mean it was already too late- she just came back from Purgatory, but if qbad really did die, what else can she do but despair?

#qsmp #qsmp badboyhalo #qsmp baghera #badboyhalo #qsmp dapper #qsmp pomme #tw death #also there is something to be said in the dichotomy between qbagi and qbaghera based on the time theyve spent #with qbad these past few months #but thats for another post and im honestly just waiting on qbagi's reaction later today :')

[kiri-tatsu]

The final droplets of my patience

He's been busy lately, and you just wanted to talk with him.

cw/tw- hurt no comfort, you leaving them, gn!reader, not proofread

part 2

Alhaitham

The acting grand sage wanted nothing more than to go home and rest after a long day of work. His eyes had begun to droop on his way home, but he still stood up straight.

As he unlocked the door to his home, he sighed, finally home only to be greeted by his angry partner with their hands on their hips. An apprehensive expression upon their face, "Hey Haitham, can we talk?"

But he didn't really feel like talking or doing much, so he just reached up and instead turned on his noise-canceling on his headphones, as he began to take off his shoes before he got any further into the house.

You felt frustration well up into your chest as you stomped over before pulling his headphones down to his neck. "Hey! I'm talking to you!"

Alhaitham rolled his eyes, "And I'm ignoring you, can you not use your eyes to see that? Can't you go bother Kaveh or something [Name]?" Your eyebrows furrowed as you retracted your hand from him and crossed your arms.

"Kaveh isn't my boyfriend, you are. Now will you listen to me?" Alhaitham pinched the bridge of his nose as he glanced to you. "Well if I knew you were this annoying and can simply see how tired I am, I wouldn't have asked you to be my significant other."

Your heart sang to your stomach as you stared at him with a look of pure disbelief. Inhaling sharply, your throat suddenly felt dryas you nodded while rubbing your clammy hands on your pants.

"I understand..." And with that you picked up your shoes by the door, and left through the door without even sparing another glance. Like always Alhaitham knew you'd be back later, after any squabble or small petty arguments, you always came back and he opened his arms to only you.

With a sigh, he just continued to go to his room so he could see, if he sees you in the morning, then he'll apologize and then everything would be fine again.

Diluc

Balancing being the Darknight hero and still trying to make time to be present at Angel's Share at times, he just wanted nothing more than to collapse in his warm bed with his beloved.

He entered Dawn Winery with a sigh, his shoulders slumping as he breath a sigh of relief, somewhere where he felt safe enough to be vulnerable.

He closed the door behind him as quietly as he could as he just came back from his Darknight hero duties of protecting Mondstadt. But nearly jumped as someone cleared their throat from behind him as a lamp was clicked on.

"And just where have you been? Returning at such unholy hours in the night." He turned around as he gave a small breath of relief, "It's just you [Name], I thought someone broke it."

"Aren't you going to answer my question?" Well, as much as he wanted to tell them, he still never came out to anyone beside the Traveler and Paimon about being the Darknight hero.

"Apologies [Name], but I don't think I can... At least for your safety," with a click of your tongue, you stood up, and only now could he see that you were fully dressed up as if you were going somewhere. "[Name]?"

"Until you can learn to be truthful to be, I will be staying elsewhere Diluc. I'm tired of waking up in the middle of the night seeing you never beside me."

Diluc felt his heart stop momentarily as you walked passed him, he turned and caught your wrist, but you pulled away quickly. "I'll see you later, find me at Cat's Tail whenever you're ready to talk."

Kaeya

Kaeya was the calvary captain, but where is the calvary? No one knows, but he does go around town to avoid his work, well as long as Jean doesn't see him. And today was again one of those days he was caught by Acting Grand Master Jean and was roped into doing some paperwork, for the fourth time this week.

He was tired, slouching over a large stack of papers from noon to nearly midnight, and he didn't even get to bother Diluc at the Angel's Share tonight which made him a bit snappy.

He returned home only to be greeting into an immediate embrace. "I was so worried about you Kaeya! Where were you?" A sigh escape him as he took your arms from him and guided them to your sides as he held your shoulders.

"Darling, I am a bit tired, so can you maybe not be so hyper right now?" A frown made its way to your lips as you shrugged off his hands, "But I was just worried about you, why are you getting angry?"

"[Name] unlike you, I am a knight, and I help people around the city. And you just sit here and write poetry all day," He grabbed the papers on the desk and held them up, "Tell me how is this going to get us money to live in this house?"

He threw them into the air as he turned around, and pushed everything off the desk in irritation making your furrow your eyebrows and raise your voice.

"Kae-" He held a hand up and you huffed irritated, "And another thing, why is that you don't do anything around the house? Maybe if I had my head attached to my body the day I asked you out, maybe I would have seen how terrible this relationship actually is."

Tears quickly gathered in your eyes as you turned on your heel and went out the door leaving Kaeya to stand in the empty house of his in the dark.

Albedo

Well, he's always busy. But still he comes down from Dragonspine in order to talk with you everyday, or he just uses his lab at the Knight's headquarters instead to do some research so he could stay closer to you.

Today was one of those few days he was able to make it home to you, and he slipped his coat off of his body as he was just about enter further into you shared home.

"Albedo?" His head turned to see you at the small little entry way as you gave a little smile, "Hey... it's been a few days since I last heard or seen you."

Albedo gave a confuse glance as he was tugging off his boots, "Oh, I hadn't realize, I'll try to inform you when I come and go better." With a little sigh, you shook your head as you crossed your arm and he looked over at you.

"That wasn't a normal sigh... Are you perhaps upset with me?" You gave him a look and he felt his confusion further rise, "Duh! You've been cooped up in your labs and I can never see you becasue you don't even pay attention to me."

Albedo raised an eyebrow as he looked over to you, "Well, you know how much my research and experiments mean to me, [Name]." A sigh of frustration left you as you stood up straight and placed you hand on your hips.

"Would it kill you to at least show that you care about our relationship Albedo?" With a sigh of his own he began to put back on his boots. "If I had knew that pointless arguments about time management would be included in our relationship, then I wouldn't have asked to be in one with you."

You bit your bit as you felt anger wash over you, his words hitting your heart and ears roughly making you wish you didn't hear what he had just said. "Leave."

"[Name]," you shook your head as you walked to him, grabbed his coat from the coat rack and handed to him as you opened the door. You pushed him out the door before slamming it shut in his face.

Xiao

The Conquer of demons, he lives up to his name as he goes all across Liyue protecting the people from the evil that lurks in every corner. He hardly gets rest as he moves everywhere.

The one evening he returns to Wangshu Inn, he is a bit surprised to see your figure standing at the railing where he usual stands at, arms resting against the rail as you look at the setting sun.

"Hey, long time no see Yaksha." You turned and looked at him seeing his usual expressed with his arms crossed as he makes his way over to you, standing a bit away.

"What are you doing here tonight?" A snort leaves your mouth as he still didn't bother to look at you. "Xiao, I'm your significant other, I don't really need a reason to see you."

He shook his head as he continued to look over the land below, "Why are you here?" You gave a sheepish smile as you stood up straight, "I wanted to see if you'd join me for a day down at the harbor?"

"And Liyue unprotected? No, and plus I'd rather not further engage with mortals," you gave a frown as you huffed resuming your position to lean against the railing.

"Why can't you take a few hours of you day out for me?" You glanced at him but he didn't even bother to acknowledge your gaze. "[Name], I would sacrifice you in order to keep the people of Liyue safe rather than to leave them unprotected."

Your eyebrows furrowed as you stood up immediately, and then began to walk away. And you didn't even bother to glance back him, and he didn't bother to spare you a look.

#genshin x reader #genshin impact #alhaitham x reader #diluc x reader #kaeya x reader #albedo x reader #xiao x reader #alhaitham angst #diluc angst #kaeya angst #albedo angst #xiao angst

[harrysonlylover]

Pride & Prejudice or (Mechanic Harry Part 4)

Summary: Your relationship with the Mechanic in town seems to flourish as you spend more time working for him. Except that you both begin to cross friendship lines whether intentional or not.

WC: 10.4k

A/n: So sorry that part 4 took this long, i hope that didn’t discourage you from reading :( enjoy lovies🫶🏻

Mechanic H Series

Today is a good day.

The sun is golden, the trees in the field are dancing and bunny is hopping around the strawberries Harry planted. Some bluebirds flew around the house and landed on the kitchen window, aiding the tune being played on the yellow scratchy vinyl.

Rays of sunshine snuck in and painted the house with a warm ambiance that Harry could never give up, even Snowy expressed his love by sleeping under the sun.

Unfortunately Harry was unable to ignore the real sun that was missing, he felt his stomach drop when he realized that you already left. He cursed his drowsy state, knowing that he never sleeps in this late. If only he woke up half an hour earlier…

His pondering last night concerning what to cook you for breakfast is now long gone, but as far as he remembers he had decided on strawberry pancakes.

‘Sparks’ by Coldplay was his to-go song in the mornings, he needed something calm to soothe him after a full night’s sleep. But now the lyric ‘Did I drive you away’ is not something he wishes to hear, so he turns it off as the two bluebirds take over the singing.

Instead he plays ‘Je te laisserai des mots’ , it is more suitable for his window friends anyways.

He made himself a quick breakfast filled with protein ( which is sacred to him so he can have energy all day). Snow Bun had some rabbit food, with a chopped strawberry that he devoured first, he needs fuel to play all day too.

Harry trained Snowy when he was a baby , it was harder than dealing with a cat or dog even, yet not impossible. As far as he knows there isn’t much danger in the wide field but he installed a wooden barrier so Bun doesn’t go far away or loses his way.

He also makes sure to inspect the field during his morning run for anything that could be hazardous to the little bun, if he doesn’t have time then he’ll set him up a play area in the house.

Today was perfect for a morning run, so he enjoyed one, breathing in the pure air with his headphones in. The clock was nearing eight in the morning so he dressed up in his denim Levi’s , a custom Gucci shirt with a grumpy bear on it gifted to him by his childhood friend (apparently, he thinks that the bear is an imitation of Harry).

He was almost done with Meena yesterday before what went down between the two of you , he decided to leave it for later during the day, he has a good number of Jeeps to fix.

11 AM.

11:30 AM.

12:00 PM.

Harry kept checking the clock anxiously, perhaps it’s broken and he forgot to fix it? Old clocks need delicate care and recently he’s had his head in the gutter. His phone’s clock confirmed that it is indeed 12 PM, and you are still nowhere to be seen.

You took good care of the garage, helped him quite well and took appointments, yet Harry had a thing for being organized, and you didn’t…

It’s not like you turned the place upside down, but you liked having things close around you instead of organizing them, so his lost crawler (that he later found near broken scooters after he texted you) was stressing him out, and it reminded him of your presence , how you put the item somewhere else even after he tells you where to exactly put it.

His top-secret oil (a mix of oil his chemist friend made and some imported oil from the Middle East) getting lost was his last strike, even though it was your mess that got him startled and disturbed but he does not know yet that he unconsciously cares more about your presence than the items.

He cannot understand for the life of him why you thought you were fired, he never even implied it. What did your anxious little brain tell you?

He knows how anxiety can be, he’s not immune to it, but he can’t help his attitude , it’s how he acts around everyone. Harry was checking the coolant of a Range Rover when he heard the wheels of your bike; he abruptly straightened his posture , watching you attentively as you parked in front of his shop.

Your eyes were fixed on ‘Pride & Prejudice’ as you sat in your regular chair, it’s been like this for fifteen minutes. Uncle George interrupted before you could say hello to Harry. He was a nice old man and you could see how much he means to Harry.

He came for the clock necklace and patted Harry’s back, you can’t exactly point out their conversation but it is quite evident how grateful he is for Harry’s help.

You dug your eyes back into the book, allowing yourself to get lost in Jane Austen’s world. Harry’s presence was smooth, almost unnoticeable but never invisible.

“So what’s that book you’re reading?” He muttered suddenly catching you off guard. You’re not sure how much time has passed since George left. Getting distracted in books is easy.

“Pride And Prejudice”.

“Isn’t it about that guy that hates her but later becomes whipped?”

You let out a loud laugh at his own idea of the book, it was somewhat true. It’s just weird to hear him say it.

“Yes Mr.Darcy, it’s a bit complicated I believe that he might have liked her from the beginning, but was afraid of something, I’m not sure but men hide behind their emotions.” You were fiddling with the cover of the book not even aware that both of you are no longer speaking about the book.

“It’s just my opinion but guys always take longer to figure out things, because he really had no reason to be grumpy and mean.” You were speaking rapidly and curiously, as if you were alone in a room, nonchalantly criticizing one of the best classics.

Harry was a bit too silent, his legs spread as he sat in a car, checking its speedometer while he listened to you. A while ago you might have cared about him being calm and unresponsive but now the words rush out from your mouth without even thinking , you’re not sure what shifted but it’s nice, really nice.

You reached the part where Jane got sick and Elizabeth went after her, it was one of your favorite scenes but your reading got interrupted with a shadow blocking the light in front of you.

“Has anyone ever told you that your communication is pretty shit for a social worker?” Harry’s body towered over your resting figure, a thin layer of sweat adorning his face.

“I— what?”

“You didn���t talk about yesterday, nor why you skipped work today. You just immediately sat down with your bloody book” He wasn’t shouting loudly but his tone changed, and he was visibly upset.

“Please don’t shout.” You replied in a calmer voice and placed your book inside your bag.

“I didn’t mean it.” He scoffed and took a few steps back with his gaze fixed on your now disturbed expression.

“Why’d you leave in the morning.” He leaned against the car and spoke in a manner so calm that you barely even heard him.

“I just didn’t want to bother you.” Again you noticed that he doesn’t have music on.

“I don’t understand.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes before swiping his hand through his hair.

“Well my presence at the race was rude and then you welcomed me into your home, I felt like I was intruding and being a burden.” You managed to speak as you fiddled with your bracelet.

You didn’t want to confess anything to him or anyone for that matter but especially him. Maybe he’ll think you’re an idiot who overthinks every word spoken or why the wind blew in that direction so instead of bothering anyone, deducing outcomes was easier.

“It’s fine, we’re good. We were both in the wrong and don’t worry about it anymore. My home is not the white house, you can come anytime…” His soft face stared back at you as he hesitated his choice of words.

“…. For Snow Bun of course.” He cleared his throat and awkwardly scratched his head.

“Yes, he is very adorable.”

Even after being vulnerable and speaking out, the atmosphere was still nice perhaps even better. You were not one to communicate and Harry was an argumentative person, an outsider would gape their mouth at your attitude but for now Harry moved around the garage and played David Bowie, and you silently hummed as you arranged the appointments. He managed to sneak the fallen pots inside before you arrived, but it was of no use, you already saw them. And so it goes whatever he hides, you will see.

“Heyy I found my top secret oil!” Harry screamed from inside over the sound of music. He popped his head out a few moments later showing you the oil bottle.

“Did you put it in the refrigerator?” He furrowed his eyebrows inspecting the bottle from all sides while realization struck you as your face turned tomato red.

“I’m sorry! I thought it was Pomegranate molasses.” You cupped your hand over your mouth feeling your heart beat rapidly.

You expected a scolding, perhaps forcing you to pay for it or just grumpy Harry attitude but instead you were met with a toothy grin as his head fell backward before he placed his palm over his eyes and let out the most beautiful laugh you have ever heard.

Harry held back his laughter for the rest of the day and gave in every time he looked at your pout. In your defense, you really thought it was molasses, you apologized repeatedly but he wasn’t really listening, stuck in a laughter daze.

When a customer came to pick up his car and inquired if Harry changed the oil, he looked at you and laughed as you organized his tools, but the customer got rude and Harry didn’t take it well.

”Are you laughing at me?” He tried to appear intimidating but failed to do so as Harry straightened his posture, and crossed his arms against his chest, allowing his biceps to flex almost immediately.

“The fuck is your issue dick? Do you see me laughing for you? Piss off from here.” He sneered at him before throwing the car keys at him.

The man grumbled something under his breath, and picked up his keys off the ground as he continuously cursed Harry who was changing the song choice to 1975 and couldn’t care less.

“What was the man shouting for? Did I mess up his appointment?” You asked him timidly after hearing the man shout loudly.

Harry gazed at you with a troubled look, wincing slightly as he noticed your eager expression, were you waiting for him to shout at you? He regrets not beating up the guy.

“Just men being men don’t worry yeah?”. You nodded at his words and took your usual seat watching him continue to work as you unwrapped your turkey sandwich.

He bopped his head to the ‘The Adults Are Talking’ by ‘The Strokes’ as he took off his rings and placed the leather gloves on his soft hands, they were pretty clean and delicate for a mechanic. This time he allowed his curls to shade his face, not paying attention to his hair clip. Due to the scorching heat, he took off his shirt (which you really liked) and placed it neatly aside where it wouldn’t stain.

The sight of his muscles was something you could never get over; he had phenomenal beauty and you read about Greek gods before but you’re not sure they can compare. Soft waist, artistic tattoos, delicate hip bone, dainty pearl necklace, prominent veins.

His anatomy was graceful like a fallen angel.

You had forgotten to eat breakfast this morning, and when Harry texted you asking to come, you freaked out and packed your sandwich instead of having it. It was your special recipe and the to go lunch sandwich, you were ready to devour it when you glanced at Harry and saw him gazing with a frown on his face making you feel like the worst person on the whole planet.

In a matter of seconds you had the sandwich split into two, leaving a half on the table in front of you and approached Harry who now was even more grumpy, as you stretched your hand to offer him the bigger half.

“Sorry for my bad manners, I should’ve asked, would you like to eat some of my Turkey sandwich?” His face softened a bit at your expression but switched back to his usual tense demeanor quickly.

“Thank you no, I was actually wondering about something else.” The toothpick in his mouth did not stop him from speaking, as he leaned his back against the car, planting his foot firmly against the gravel. His position made his midsection stretch and bend and his V line was getting recognition, you hoped he linked your drool to the sandwich.

“Which is? Do I have something to do before eating? Did you stop lunch breaks?”

Every time you spoke, a little feeling inside Harry sparked, this tiny feeling confirmed his thoughts time and time again. He has to shake himself whether mentally or physically and shut down his urges which most of the time include opening his notebook.

“I guess why you’re eating a sandwich. Does it fulfill you?”

The thing about Harry is that it’s very hard to read him sometimes, is it confusion or curiosity, fondness or kindness. Right now it was a mixture of both wonder and something that you can’t quite catch yet.

“I mean I think so. You don’t want to try it?” Your pout told him all he needed to know, if he didn’t take the sandwich from you, you’d probably think about it for days but right now Harry had something else on his mind.

“Can you stay here for a bit? Don’t go after me and don’t eat the sandwich” He ordered with a stern look before throwing his tooth pick in the garbage , closing the hood of the car and going inside the store.

You were not exactly sure how to feel, you don’t even know what he went to do, maybe he felt guilty or shy from your food offer. Either way you are really hungry and you wouldn’t mind sharing food with him so where did he disappear?

Harry has never cooked for someone else in his life until you.

He can’t really recall what led him here, or why he’s cooking meat right now and boiling pasta. His chef techniques were meant to be reserved only for him and Snow . His legs did lead him here and his hands keep chopping the vegetables without a direct order. Lately his nervous system seemed to be betraying him, acting upon some certain actions that make him beyond confused.

Maybe if he had an explanation after it was done, it would’ve put him at ease, except that he doesn’t. He likes to be direct and see immediately through people, and that was the problem with you, he was seeing too much.

Why did it matter if the pasta’s boiling was medium or fully cooked or if the change in spices was necessary? He could not for the life of him understand many things.

Maybe Snow Bun can help.

Harry has been inside his garage for the past 35 minutes, at first you were worried and he had asked of you to not follow him, so you respected his boundaries.

Your worry slowly fled away when you smelled it, the scent of tomato sauce and the unmistakable scent of meat, you assumed that your mind was playing tricks on you and it was your hunger that made you imagine things.

But as more time passed you knew that you were not a lunatic and that Harry really is cooking. So you were right then, maybe he was making food because he got hungry and refused to take your food. In moments like these you could see that Harry is just a tender boy at heart, in your opinion everyone is.

We get mistreated a lot that we lose sense of who we are, but the real and soft version of us, the one touched by angels and untouched by demons remains hidden and comes out discreetly but in the most beautiful ways one could imagine. It was kind of your favorite hobby, to see when it shows up , but to get to observe it, you have to know one’s weakness at first then watch them do the exact opposite.

With Harry it’s taking you more time to observe, tender things need more patience.

You got excited at the idea of Harry eating with you, you were used to eating alone, as the only person close to a friend you had was Kitty and maybe Harry but you don’t want to put your hopes up.

You were wrapping up the sandwich again so that it stays edible, before Harry walked out with two plates in his hand, he was still shirtless and the heat from the oven reflected on his sweaty body, he had a chef’s bonnet to avoid getting his hair in the food and the sight of him strolling lazily with his jeans low on his waist and holding food that he made was a sight that will be engraved in your mind for a long time.

He balanced the two plates in one hand effortlessly, and grabbed a chair nearby fixing it next to yours as he set the food in front of you which you figured out is a Tagliatelle alla Bolognese.

“Fancy some pasta?”

Lunch with Harry was nice. He seemed flustered and you’re not sure why, so to save him the embarrassment you opened up a chat about Snow Bun who is probably trying to pluck the strawberries from the garden as you spoke.

You insisted that Harry tastes your sandwich and despite his chef like standards he approved of your recipe but continued to flaunt that his culinary abilities are better.

“My sandwich deserves a Michelin!”

“Excuse you? People would die to have my pasta woman!” He scoffed and chewed with his Bunny teeth that he probably stole from Snow.

He took the plates inside and fumbled around for a certain product then remembered immediately that he ran out of it. You went on a quick walk and bought some of the missing essentials for the shop, and you bumped into Uncle George , who you approached to greet.

“Hello Uncle George, How are you? Can I help with anything?” You offered a sweet smile in case he needed it today.

“Oh bless you child I am well, thank you I’m only grabbing a bouquet of flowers.”

“Ohhh, is it for your wife?” You blushed at the thought of your future partner buying you flowers at an old age. Uncle George is a very sweet man, no wonder Harry is close with him.

“Yes darling it is, she loves yellow tulips.” He pointed at the bouquet he’s holding with an enthusiastic smile.

“Oh that’s so nice I hope she likes them. Have a nice day.”

“Same for you kid, same for you.” You bid him goodbye with another smile and walked away before hearing him again.

“I can see his through his eyes now.”

You turned around to see that he did not repeat his words and apparently not address you even, when he looked back he waved again at you and you returned it with a confused look.

Upon your return, Harry was cursing under his breath in a grumpy state, the music was low and he was standing over an open hood with his fingers examining his puckered lips. He asked for the bottle of brake fluid as you organized the other things you bought in their designated places.

“Can you come over here” He asked a few minutes later.

You found him holding up the hood of the car with his two hands and you can see how his biceps are clenching as his hand fought against the weight of the hood despite holding it like it weighs nothing.

“The hood is broken and I need to fix something else, It won’t balance on the stick, can you please hold it while I check something?” You nodded and took over the hood part , and quickly felt its weight. Damn him and his muscles.

He easily managed to pull heavy parts and put them back, he was really good at his job and no one could deny it. You helped him and handed him over some of his kit as he worked out the trouble.

“The coolant is supposed to have a sweet smell, yet it smells weird and there are no signs of any leak. Flashlight please?” He asked without turning to you but when you didn’t respond for a good while he angled his head towards you.

Your hair was long and straightened and it was getting in the way of your vision since you were bent down, you did not want to tell Harry, afraid that it would seem unprofessional of you.

You were struggling to hold the hood, and the flashlight was farther than all the other tools, when you tried to reach it your back cramped from the weight of the hood and your hair completely clouded your vision.

“What are you doing?”

“Sorry it’s my hair. I can’t see.” You winced as you felt useless despite it being the first time he actually asked of you to help yet you were not able to provide it.

“It’s okay you can sit down I’ll handle it.” He replied without glancing at you.

“But I can help—“

“Just sit there, it’s fine.” You nodded and felt the sadness creep into you despite him not being mean, but you really wanted to help.

He’s already paying you way too much to just take appointments and buy new oil. Your body slumped against the barstool and your lips formed a pout as you glanced at the now neglected car, you were making a great team.

“M’gonna need you to stay still for a while.” He came behind you abruptly and swiped his hand through your hair.

His hands were soft even though he spent all day ruining his skin layer with work, you can feel the lotion he just used at the back of your neck. His rings sent a shiver up your spine, as his hand discovered your skin, it was silly to feel that way, so giddy for his touch but you couldn’t really help it.

You’re very shy by nature, and in situations like this you pry from ruining the mood and asking what the other person is planning to do. Even Harry seemed to take a long time to make his next move, his hands kept swiping through your hair tenderly, as his fingers went in and out from your hair strands.

He divided your hair into three divisions, and gently began bringing them together, the first with the second, then with the third and so on. Your heart was drumming against your ribcage, even more so when you realized that Harry was braiding your hair.

You soaked the moment in as much as you could, his knuckles were grazing your back and his touch made you want to crawl in his lap and hug him. Perhaps you were touch deprived or he was just very huggable. Not to mention that you love physical touch, so his hand at your skin caressing sensitive spots along with the soft breeze that’s helping Harry, made you want to giggle and squirm beneath him.

“No one has ever braided my hair.” You blurted out quickly before biting at your inner cheeks. Whenever someone was nice to you, you’d unconsciously share personal things, but again not only is Harry physically near you, but he seemed like the type of person you can feel comfortable around. Not because he wouldn’t object or make snarky comments like other men. Harry was just not judgmental.

Despite all his grumpiness, occasionally rude attitude and short temper, Harry was so soft deep down. You’ve barely known him for two weeks yet but your experience as a social worker aided you in identifying people and uncovering their mask. After all, Harry was a safe bubble, along with Snow Bun, his hydrangeas and yellow house. It is nothing but a courageous attempt at protecting his peace.

“Why? You have nice hair.” He mumbled the last sentence rather faster and quieter as if he didn’t want you to hear it. He even let out a huff as if he couldn’t believe you.

“The girls used to say that my hair is ugly and weird, and that I don’t look like Princesses.” You felt your cheeks burn at the memory, your childhood wasn’t the best, especially when you had to grow up with these said girls.

Harry glanced down at your locks between his hands, they were so pretty that he had to restrain himself from playing with them all day , they smell like strawberries too and he could swear you look like Rapunzel under the sun. Why were people mean?

“I don’t know, sounds like bullshit to me.” He shrugged his shoulders and cleared his throat as an attempt to keep his rough demeanor on.

You didn’t wish to recall these days so you focused on the feeling of his hands again, the wind around you and how the soft tug at your strands was almost like a scratch and made you feel sleepy but safe.

His fingers parted your hair but only for a few seconds, before he added the final touches, and secured the end of the braid with a hair tie. He continued to place inside it something that made your eyebrows furrow, you couldn’t pinpoint what it was exactly, but you had a feeling it looked nice.

“Okay, now you can help me. The car is waiting.” He strolled to the car without any other words and pretended to continue his work, but not forgetting to give a side glance and watch you look at the mirror and at the blue hydrangea petals he placed in between your hair .

Ever since you arrived at this town, you experienced some harsh incidents that can be considered as ‘bad luck’. First, the landlord wanted to charge you double that of other apartments, until he changed his mind and lowered the price thankfully. Then the town was caught in a huge storm, making all shops close down so you couldn’t visit the grocery store and spent two days eating ramen.

Your job is a whole other story, quitting it allowed you to see things from a clearer point of view and learn from your mistakes. Harry’s advice served you good since if not for him you would be deep down a hole of troubles.

Losing your car was the most damaging, it was the only piece you had from your grandfather, also your first car and held many memories over the years. To see it every day in Harry’s garage made your heart clutch, but you know that you would never give up on it, you just need to save a little money.

All these incidents remind you how you will always be alright in the end. It’s been over a month since the race, and as each day passed you and Harry got closer. Breaking down his wall was not easy; you didn’t even fully reach there yet but there is a progress.

You learned that he has a sister in the UK, he loves engineering but wanted to study Music, he didn’t adopt Bun nor had an intention of keeping him. He found him covered in dirt behind the garage so he took him in until he was healthy enough to give him to someone worthy, yet even then Snowy refused to part from Harry and you have an inkling that it was the opposite.

Harry is a big tea drinker; he has packets that he keeps in both his garage and house. He really loves the honey and cinnamon tea, and drinks two cups a day. However he seems to dislike alcohol a lot and described it as ‘piss’.

Niall is his only trusted companion, they bonded over their origin and even though Niall tends to be playful and exactly what Harry hates in people sometimes, but you don’t recall a day where they didn’t speak to each other.

As you concluded from the beginning, he adores music and is a proud Vinyl collector. He once spent 600$ just to get his hands on a special edition of Elton John’s Breaking Hearts. Every other week, he visits a market nearby where he goes on a hunt for new interesting Vinyls.

Your days with him consisted of laughter, he had a way to make you smile even when it wasn’t his intention. He can still get grumpy sometimes, but he was never mean to you, whenever he got mad, he’d lock himself inside the store and get out after 15 minutes only to continue conversing normally.

He braids your hair from time to time, although you never really told him about the other mean things you’ve been told. You knew his preferences enough to get him lunch or a snack, perhaps a gift even, yet you felt like there was more to know but you had patience and in return you must also give him parts of yourself.

You’re not sure how you managed to be around him this long, he was unnaturally gorgeous, you would stare in awe at whatever he does, you never imagined a person to be this beautiful. You could swear his irises change shades every now and then, that his lips stole the color from cherries, and his body an incarnation of a female and male Greek gods.

Being around him made you flustered but not in a bad way, it was a good feeling that reminded you how you’ll be seeing him every morning, how the blood pumps faster to your heart when he’s near you, when your cheeks burn as he cooks for you or delivers a ‘hello’ message from Snowy with a strawberry filled basket.

He was somewhat your only friend and that was an achievement. Making friends is a nightmare for you, you’re not the best at it nor had good experiences in the past years. You’re not sure if you got better at it or if Harry is easy to be around, perhaps he is ,but that would also mean that there is nothing wrong with you.

Kitty was able to note the change in your attitude, how happier you became, but she refrained from saying anything because she already knows the cause behind all this giddiness and why Harry checked out Pride & Prejudice right after you returned it.

“I don’t mean to intrude my boy, but I never saw you as a classics guy.” Kitty spoke as she registered the book under his name.

“Umm, just wanna see what the fuss is about I guess, no other reason.” He tried to hide the blush in his cheeks by awkwardly scratching his neck and fleeing away after grabbing the book.

Kitty was no fool of course, she was just waiting, after all some clocks need delicate care and attention.

The news of quitting your job earned a broad smile from Harry, he looked even happier than you and kept assuring that you took the right decision. It didn’t take you long to find a job offer, the only issue is that it’s out of town but Harry insisted that you apply to see how it would go.

You watched him hop off his bike and remove the Gucci sunnies, before placing his motorcycle inside and taking off his leather jacket, he glanced at you and was about to speak but furrowed his eyebrows instead at your face expression.

“Why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost?”

“Okay please don’t get mad, but I just remembered that my job interview is tomorrow and I know that this is last minute but I really need to take tomorrow off, I can start working on appointments from now an—“ Your anxious rambling made Harry even more confused that he had to cut you off.

“We all forget strawberry shortcake, what time is the interview?” He replied nonchalantly as he took off his shirt. You couldn’t help but blush at the nickname he’s given you for smelling like strawberries.

“Around one in the afternoon, but I have to get up early because I do not know the town and have to find a bus so th—“

“I’m driving you.” He picked up his crawler and walked to a car he was fixing since morning.

“No you don’t have to, I can—“

“It’s not negotiable, I’ll pick you up at 10.” You mumbled a quiet ‘thank you’ as he continued to do his work.

Niall popped in around noon and began rambling about his work, what he ate and what he’s been up to as Harry only nodded and kept his focus on the car.

You liked his presence, he was a nice guy and anyone who Harry likes must be a big deal since it doesn’t happen that often, but it’s safe to say that Bun is fond of biting Niall in his leg , recently he’s been avoiding Harry’s House because of ‘the deadly beast’.

Niall swore that Snowy only seems to like you and Harry, even though he is harmless but he just never clicked with the little bun. You thought that it is such an ironic situation since Niall is the one who gets for Harry, Snowy’s food and essentials from his aunts’ store. Maybe he liked the Bun deep down.

When he figured that Harry is busy and will not give him his attention, he turned to you and struck up a conversation, he was very chatty and you found it hard to keep up with him.

“I had a chicken sandwich and I kept thinking about the ones that Harry make, they’re delicious really.” His Irish accent made you giggle.

“There’s leftover Pizza if you want, I can heat it up?” You asked him in case he was hungry.

“Thank you I should really get back but I’m also bored and I had to pass by to make sure Harry didn’t make you run away yet.” He let out a loud laughter and imitated Harry’s grumpy face making you laugh even harder.

The giggles did not go unnoticed by Harry, he could recognize your voice and laughter anywhere but it was infuriating when it wasn’t about something he said.

He decided to let it go as Niall is a funny guy and can make anyone laugh, that is until he heard Niall asking you a question that made him see red.

“Do you want to go out maybe? I know a nice place..” The rest of Niall’s question was inaudible as Harry’s jaw twitched and tightened.

He strolled over quickly to where you were standing with an oil bottle in his hand and spilled it over Niall’s shirt, it wasn’t a secret that Harry is visibly angry, but while Niall was oblivious you immediately caught up.

“Mate the fuck? If you’re mad unleash your anger somewhere else, I’m still in working hours.” He mumbled angrily as he walked over to his car, taking off his shirt and driving away.

You were shocked at Harry’s behavior; you looked back at him and he had anger radiating off his body. He didn’t even look you in the eye. Your arms were crossed in disappointment, perhaps with a hint of confusion and irritation. He knew it too but acted as innocent as a sly cat. He will not get away with it, you thought.

“Your child like antics seem to get only worse. That wasn’t an accidental spill, you were being rude.” You sneered feeling hot fume leave your body as a reaction to Harry’s act.

He dropped the wrench with a thud and strolled toward you with a scowl on his face that did not appear until you opened your mouth.

He trapped you in the corner making you lightly stumble and lay your weight against the bar stool you usually sit in. His face was inches apart from yours and all the blood in your body was pumping fast.

“Do you see how close I am to you? He must’ve been wishing to get to do that, and that’s my problem. You see I could’ve done worse, I was being nice Shortcake , m’kay?”. His piercing gaze softened after he finished talking and he tilted his head to the side smiling lightly, before backing away and lighting a cigarette.

Harry’s fingers kept tapping against the steering wheel as he awaited outside your apartment building, he showed up 10 minutes after you sent him the address as if he’s a standby chauffeur.

He pinched his puckered lips, glancing every now and then at his painted nails then back to the building gate. It’s not even a date or so but his whole body wants to shiver yet Harry mastered the art of controlling his reflexes.

What he did yesterday was unexpected, he took it too far and was really a child. What’s worse is that he didn’t seem to mind it until he got back home and replayed the scene in his mind. He threw oil on Niall just because he asked you out?

Recently Harry has been acting in ways he does not approve of which is quite silly as he controls his own actions yet sometimes, he feels helpless. He tried to ignore it at first, but that only seemed to make it worse.

Getting mad at the thought of someone dating you can only mean one thing and he refuses to accept it. It’s true that the past month was a change from the boredom he encounters at work every day, but it also allowed you to creep inside of him and lay there, Harry’s afraid you’re already welcome.

Thankfully Niall didn’t catch on, but only because this isn’t the first time Harry has been a jerk, but it also happens to be kind of their own thing, to prank each other. He ponders if he should apologize later on to Niall or just let it be, however If he does then it might reveal the fact that it wasn’t a joke.

Harry would consider himself to have fallen down the rabbit hole.

You and your silly books, adorable soft hair that always reminds him of his strawberry garden, weird colorful clothes that would send a fashion designer into a coma, sweet rambles about everything and your claims on being the best Turkey Sandwich maker. He could go on and on and tell every single bit about you, but he can’t and shouldn’t. He knows better than to allow his desires to take over the wheel, which is why he must find a way to climb back out of the rabbit hole.

He got pulled out of his trance by the sound of the door opening then slamming shut, your sudden entrance along with the wind going in your direction allowed Harry to catch a strong whiff of your strawberry scent making him clutch the steering wheel roughly.

“Am I late? So sorry I didn’t know what to wear and what book to grab for the road.” You apologized as you threw your bag in his backseat, trying not to focus on how he’s eyeing your figure without a single word.

After all, it’s a job interview and being elegant was a must. You spent the entire morning going through your closet and trying on every piece you have, to be a bit fair most of them were decent and suitable for an interview yet it was not your potential new boss that you wanted to impress.

The huffs and puffs paid off as you picked a matching plaid blazer and skirt, you faintly remember the last time you wore this set two years ago which is why it wasn’t a surprise when the skirt turned out to be a bit shorter than expected, it was still decent for the interview but also hugged your body perfectly.

Harry’s eyes nearly bulged out when he saw your skirt, you didn’t even bother to wear tights beneath it and your bare legs were a sight. He still didn’t utter anything and it was making you more anxious.

“Soo how long will the trip take?” You asked with your gaze set down on your feet, avoiding him as much as possible knowing that you’ll blush if you just glance.

“Approximately an hour and a half.” He cleared his throat and fixed his Gucci sunnies as he continued to chew his gum.

You brought three different books with you in case you wanted to pass time, but you hoped that you didn’t have to touch them and converse with Harry instead.

You didn’t realize that it would be much awkward when you are outside of work, initiating a conversation is harder let alone maintaining it. What’s making it worse is Harry’s attitude yesterday and what he said to you.

“I could’ve done worse shortcake.”

That exact sentence kept bothering you the whole night as you tossed and turned. Does he like you or is he just a protective friend?

It would be an exaggeration to assume he has a crush on you yet his actions placed you in a tough position. Would it be unwise to open up the subject? Will you even get the answer you’re wishing for?

All you know is that you’re about to spend half a day with him on the road without work distractions, and god knows what will happen but again the chances are below zero.

“Grab the 2nd CD here will ya?” Harry turned on the engine and began rotating the steering wheel with his palm as he stretched his arm behind your head and looked backwards. The sight of him driving like that made you squirm in your seat. You pretended to be fumbling with the CDs but instead you couldn’t possibly miss the sight of his biceps practically bulging through his leather jacket.

He had light stubble as he hasn’t been shaving for a while and despite having sunglasses on, you could see how focused he is, with a gentle furrow of his eyebrows. His hand on the wheel had protruding veins and you smiled at the new turquoise nail polish.

“The CD has a nice mix especially for road trips, let’s get going shortcake.”

The mixtape Harry picked had one of the best songs you’ve ever heard. He has a talent for picking the right tune in any situation. Knowing him, he probably would’ve bought his Vinyl player with him if not for road bumps.

Emerald star by Lord Huron was playing and Harry raised the volume. For the first time since you left town you dared to look at him.

His side profile was majestic, you can’t see his eyes but you assumed they’re in their usual state, unreadable and unbelievably gorgeous. Some freckles lay against the tip of his nose, the weather has been getting warmer and the more freckles appear on his face the more enamored you become.

His jaw flexes as he chews his cherry gum, and if he likes the song he’d tap with his index finger repeatedly, perhaps bite at the skin of his rosy lips. You can tell that he wants to sing along but you don’t want to push him out of his comfort zone.

“Oh what a jewel are you, and oh what a fool am I

For squandering my love on an emerald in the sky”

The song touched your heart as you listened to pure poetry with a melody, it was something else. Even Harry allowed his dimples to show when he first heard the intro of the song.

“I loved it so much, can we repeat it?” You asked as he immediately turned to you with a grin.

“Haven’t spoken a single word since we set off , and you only talk to me because you liked the song? I thought the cat got your tongue.” He placed his sunglasses above his soft curls and pulled out a cigarette from his pocket, leaving the steering wheel without control as he cupped his hands around his mouth to light the cigarette.

“Can you not do that again?” His recklessness was a reminder for you to put on your seatbelt and you did so quickly.

“Do what?” He turned to you with parted lips and you could not tell if he’s acting innocent or is actually clueless.

“This.. thing with leaving the steering wheel and looking at me. You’ll get the car crashed.” Your voice showed how timid you are, but it was only fair when he was being so careless.

He let out a deep chuckle, with the cigarette perched between his lips. “I know what i’m doing shortcake, i’ve been driving cars since I was 14. If I want to get us crashed , I would’ve done that in the race.” He took another puff from the cigarette and let it out through the window.

The reminder of the race made you feel uneasy, not only was it terrifying and life threatening but now that you know Harry more, you unconsciously care for him which explains the pit that formed in your stomach at the mention of the race.

“Besides I can look at you whenever I want” He muttered under his breath and you decided to not answer back at any of these remarks.

“If the garage is getting you good money, why do you race Harry? You could get yourself killed.” Your curiosity took control as you found yourself speaking without thinking first.

It was as if he didn’t hear you or chose not to. The silence was loud except for AngelEyes by ABBA blasting on the radio, you slowly diverted your body towards the door and looked out the window, trying not to feel hurt with his attitude.

“I like the adrenaline it gives me.” He suddenly spoke making you turn back to him.

“It has a certain type of rush that I’m addicted to, you could say I’m an adrenaline junkie. I also love how everyone tries to beat me, but they will never be able to do that shortcake.” He elaborated nonchalantly as if he was speaking about an arcade game not a dangerous street race.

You could not possibly lie and say that you didn’t like it, at some point you discarded the fear and experienced some of the adrenaline he spoke of, but you couldn’t also deny how dangerous it was.

He had you in his lap, with one hand secured around your waist yet still managed to drive with risky turns and the other driver’s attempt at getting him to crash. It looked like any daily routine for him.

“Perhaps you can find a healthy addiction?” You didn’t wish to interfere in his life, but being you, helping others to overcome unhealthy habits is a must.

“Hmm, maybe.” He gave you a toothy grin as if he got an idea right there and then but didn’t want to share.

The road ahead of you was slightly familiar, a few cars were driving along but surprisingly not a lot. As soon as Why’d You Only Call Me When You’re High by Arctic Monkeys started playing, you rolled down the car window, and let out your upper body as the soft breeze caressed you and allowed your hair to float.

Harry was shocked at your sudden act, he no longer cared if the road was empty or swarmed with cars. Your back was turned to him and your skirt was riding up on the back of your thighs, you had already kicked off your heels when you got in. The door was locked and you still had your seatbelt on, hence why he didn’t freak out, however he had his arm stretched near your waist just in case.

If an officer passed by on his motorcycle, he’d take away Harry’s license. His eyes forgot that the road exists, or that he’s driving, all he could see was you. Your floating hair, spreading the strawberry scent everywhere, the giddy smile on your face like a child experiencing the high of a rollercoaster for the first time or the way you ignored him and pretended that it’s your own world with the song blasting.

You looked like an addiction he could get used to.

‘ You said you gotta be up in the morning

Gonna have an early night

And you’re starting to bore me, baby

Why’d you only call me when you’re high?’

As the song came to an end, Harry’s apprehension took the spotlight as he pulled you in with one swift motion. He can race with many cars cornering him but you push your body outside of the window and the alarms in his brain go red.

You squealed when he pulled you in, as he cut off your little moment with the wind. His questioning expression made you self-aware of what you did making roses slowly creep up your cheeks as you covered your face quickly with your hands.

“Oh c’mon shortcake, that was nice. Did you get your own adrenaline hmm?” He reached his hand and removed yours off your face.

“I just felt like doing it.” You shrugged your shoulders and smiled shyly at Harry.

“Do whatever you want shortcake.”

Time passed easily with Harry. It was definitely not your expectation but you didn’t mind it too. You’ve been on the road for half an hour now, and you had a fight about ice-cream flavors. You’ve been slowly trying to break down his ice wall and now that you’ve laughed together, you thought about taking the conversation further.

“Can I ask you something?” You asked with curiosity reeking from your voice.

“No I will not try your disgusting bubblegum ice-cream.” He grumbled like a child as if you asked him to eat trash.

“No but one day I will make you eat that.” He rolled his eyes at you making you let out a laugh at the thought of him trying on bubblegum ice-cream.

“ So.. is it okay if you tell me how you knew that my ex boss was scamming me?” You swallowed down your throat after asking, as you reopened the subject that made you both fight in the first place.

You can see how his jaw twitched upon the mention of your ex boss, he certainly was not pleased with the topic and testing the waters now seems like a bad idea.

“Sorry you don’t have to—“

“He scammed my sister before you.” He looked at you with a hint of pain in his face.

“We both came here young and had dreams, I was slowly building myself and she thought that volunteer work was a good step. He kept promising her with a job, made her donate even, only to tell her that there is no place for her when the contract was over.” He was trying to hide his anger but to no avail. His nostrils were flaring and he could rip off the leather of the wheel from how tight his grip was.

“She was ambitious just like you, and what he did left her hopeless. Eventually, she didn’t find a job and went back to the UK.” Your heart clutched at the thought of Harry’s sister going through the same thing but with no one to warn her.

“I’m so sorry, I hope she’s doing better now back home.”

“She is, he just didn’t have the right to do so. That fucker… I wish I complied to my urges and left him a bloody mess but back then we didn’t have money for lawsuits.” He let out a big sigh and you felt like an idiot for discussing it with him.

“ Your sister sounds lovely, I’m sorry that happened to her.” You answered softly not knowing what to exactly say.

“Enough of that now shortcake, talk about something else.” It was obvious that he desperately needed a distraction and you felt inclined to provide it.

“We can play Truth or Truth since we can’t do dare in the car.”

“That sounds like a made up game but okay.” You rummaged your head for nice questions that do not cross his boundaries.

“How many tattoos do you have?” He pretended to count them making you roll eyes at him.

“I dunno shortcake, I lost count at 20.” You don’t have any tattoos but you wondered how the hell he was able to handle all this pain.

“My turn, what’s your favorite book ever?” He skipped the song that was playing until he decided on ‘Sesame Syrup’ by Cigarettes After Sex.

“Absolutely not, I’m not answering that.” You shook your head aggressively in disapproval feeling cornered with the question.

“I’m not letting that slide easily but your turn.” He took off his leather jacket, leaving him in a plain white shirt as you glared at him for leaving the steering wheel again.

“How many partners did you have?” Your felt quite bold but regretted it immediately after you saw his smirk.

“Hmm I’d say one for the serious relationship.” He was cheeky with his answer as if you fed his ego by asking. You’re not even sure why you did so, perhaps your curiosity got the best of you.

“My turn. What’s the best place you’ve had sex in?” Your cheeks turned crimson red at his question, as you began picking at your nails. He looked back at you when you took too long to answer and saw how flustered you were.

“Shit did I make you uncomfortable? “ He cursed under his breath as he stared at your flushed face.

“No it’s okay.. I just.. umm “ You swallowed down your throat, and turned away from him as the game was no longer in your favor.

“What is it?” He was confused as to why you suddenly become more flustered than you usually are. You were biting your bottom lip and playing with the hem of your skirt until he finally understood what’s up.

“Are you a virgin shortcake?” His rather correct guess made your face heat up embarrassingly as you allowed your hair to fall and cover your face from him.

“Hey, don’t do that. S’fine you can say whatever you want.” Harry found it cute that you were so red in the face over his question. He couldn’t believe it.

His shortcake was a virgin.

He tried to refrain himself from thinking about unholy things but god he couldn’t. How can he continue to live every day and be around you now that he knows you haven’t been touched.

“Yeah, you’re right, I’m just embarrassed.” You spoke in a low voice with your gaze set at your feet.

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. It’s just a stupid social standard, you can wait for as long as you want shortcake.” He tried to comfort you, as he realized how upset you might be feeling.

“It’s not really about waiting; it’s about finding someone. Boys didn’t date me, they went for the popular prettier girls.” Harry almost hit the brake pedal in the middle of the road at your words. The fact that you thought so lowly of yourself because of stupid premature boys made him see red.

“The fuck do you mean by that? Just because some boys are pricks doesn’t mean you’re not worth dating. Fucks sake where’d you get those thoughts from?” He was visibly angry as you held back tears at both your confession and his sweetness.

“I’m not sure..” You couldn’t provide him with an answer when you didn’t even know what was going on in your own love life.

He suddenly turned off the music and reached his hand to caress your burning cheek. “ Hey, look at me.” He ordered softly as he turned your face to him.

“It’s not nice to think like that. Anyone would be lucky to have you. You’re worth more than sex and there are many people out there who would kill to have you. It was my fault for bringing it up.” His sweet words added to your pent-up frustration as you held back hot tears.

“It’s okay, can we close the subject now?” You’re not sure you can handle any further comforting from him. You feel embarrassed enough as it is for confessing such things.

“Yes of course but remember my words.” He leaned back in his seat and actually set his eyes on the road.

He didn’t know what to feel. The way you underestimate yourself infuriated him, it proves to him yet again that you’re too pure for this world. Never was he so angry just because someone else was not treated properly.

He didn’t want to think whether it’s right or not to feel that way, all he knows is that he’s mad. If only he could talk a little more… but he respects your boundaries and decided to turn on the music again in hopes of cheering you up.

You arrived at the designated building in no time, and you felt a lot better after Harry stopped by an ice cream shop and bought you four scoops of bubblegum ice cream with marshmallow topping. You admired his gesture and you could tell he was trying to make up in his own way.

Even though you were ready mentally and parked right outside of the building, you felt like cooling off a bit and taking a stroll on the sidewalk.

Harry walked out from the car like a movie star with his beloved leather jacket hanging off his shoulder, you fixed your attire and secured your handbag before beginning to walk with Harry by your side.

The building was tall with tainted windows that you could not see through, you can hear Harry lighting up a cigarette behind you to destress as if he’s the one with the interview.

“Harry, I think I’ll just go in. If I wait any longer, I’ll get stressed.” You fixed your hair and stared back at Harry who was leaning against the car.

“Whatever suits you, I’ll wait here.” You gave him a gentle smile and walked away towards the building before you heard him calling your name.

“Yes?” You turned around to face him.

“Read the contract well shortcake.”

Harry has been waiting outside the building for almost an hour now, he thought about going in to check up on you but he didn’t want to embarrass you, for all he knows you could be waiting or doing the interview as he walks in.

He’s had five cigarettes and walked back and forth three times; it could be a sign of anxiety but for fucking what? It’s you who’s doing the interview and worrying about you should be the last thing he’s supposed to do.

In the past month he allowed you to get closer to him, something he despises. But now that he thinks about it, he never remembers being aware of it. He always has his guard on, and the way he let it down naturally scares him.

He’s gotten used to your turkey sandwiches, books around the garage, random hair clips that he finds everywhere, the fallen hydrangea petals from your hair after he braids it, some doodles and heart shaped drawings in his appointment book, and the curious inquiries when he’s fixing cars.

‘ So if you replace this piece with a new one, does it become like those cars in movies.’

’ Can you place a machine inside the car that gives you bubblegum when you press the button’

‘ What happens if you actually replace the oil with pomegranate molasses’

As a mechanic, hearing these questions sent him into a laughter fit, you were something else that he can’t pinpoint, perhaps otherworldly but what he knows is that you are not the type he ever saw himself meeting. He couldn’t possibly believe that someone like you exists.

Maybe he’ll wake up at any second and find himself back home, and that it was all just a fever dream, even his garage, degree and Snow Bun. Instead he hears the sweet voice that he got so accustomed to hearing every morning.

“Harry! I got the job” You walked excitedly to him while being careful to not trip over.

Deep down Harry knew that they would take you, it wasn’t a surprise that you’re talented, not to mention a very fast learner. But to see you so happy with the broadest smile was the real fever dream. He didn’t prepare himself for encountering such a sight nor could he survive it.

“They said that there’s no need to wait a few days, they hired me on spot and you wo—“ You stood in front of him rambling excitedly before he cut you off by pressing his lips against yours and cupping your face with both of his hands.

You melted in the kiss as his soft lips nibbled on yours, your heart was drumming against your chest and it all felt too surreal. You can taste the mix of cherry and cigarettes on his tongue as his mouth lapped at yours and devoured you whole.

Neither of you seemed to want to let go, especially Harry who held on to your waist as he deepened the kiss further making you lean backwards against his arm. Your tongues clashed together and you could feel him smiling.

Harry is not sure he can climb out of the rabbit hole.

A/n: hope you had fun reading!! Please make sure to leave feedback, i’d appreciate it a lot <3

Taglist: @matildasatellite @xxrosebunny @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @novasblogofstuff @gem1712 @miasdelicatepov @jessitpwk @tiaamberxx @peacheskiwi @tenaciousperfectionunknown @tbsloneely @namelesssav @20031990s @prettythingsworld @st-ev-ie @slut4marvelmenn @swiftmendeshoran @missmielyhoran @a-strange-familiar @wandas-lawyer @fullofstyles @cherrycokeslay @blepskies @that-daydream-look @hslt-2809 @ivegotparticulartaste @itslottiehere @harryssideboob @malwtilda @harrysficreblog @hsonlyangelxo @adachhi @tpwkkkkk @kiwilikesmeow @sagggy @epidxte @indierockgirrl @annesauriol @leenameh @scottisantman @grapejuicebluesrry @summertime-pills @lhhrryismyhome @marzhshaim @harrystylessslut @nysworld @keepdrivingkisses @rideeonstyles @rueluvsharry @lomlhstyles @novalunosising

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles smut #harry smut #harry styles oneshot #harry styles imagine #harry styles story #harry styles blurb #harry x reader #harry fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry fic rec #harry styles fanfic #harry fic #harry fanfic #harry styles boyfriend #harry styles book #harry styles wattpad #harry styles writing #harry styles masterlist #harry styles series #harry styles filth #harry styles drabble #mechanic harry #mehanic h #mechanicrry

[copperbadge]

Radio Free Monday

Good morning everyone, and welcome to Radio Free Monday!

Ways to Give:

Anon linked to a fundraiser for Andrea, a trans woman, UU minister, and veteran, and her wife Wren, a genderqueer veteran, who are currently homeless along with their three cats. While they are working with the VA to get approval for housing assistance, they're in need of funding to get back on their feet; you can read more and support the fundraiser here.

littleredreadinghood linked to a fundraiser for kirkaut, who was recently diagnosed with an aggressive cancer and is in need of help with medical bills. You can read more, reblog, and find giving information here.

like-the-midnight-sun linked to a fundraiser for a close friend, a queer, trans, and multiply-Disabled writer who has just lost their job and needs to pay a steep phone bill to reactivate their service so they can look for work. You can give via paypal here or via Chime to nachonaco.

Anon linked to a fundraiser for crazywolf828, whose grandfather, one of the household's main income sources, recently suffered a broken hip and is currently in a rehab center; they need help with medical bills among other things. You can read more and reblog here or give via ko-fi here. (The page does pop up a "possible NSFW comment" warning window but there's nothing NSFW on that page.)

Anon linked to a fundraiser for Vinn, a disabled nonbinary person who is raising funds to move away from Utah, where being a queer person is becoming steadily less safe, to Michigan, where they have a place to live with their partner already set up. You can read more and support the fundraiser here.

like-the-midnight-sun and her wife are multiply marginalized people who don't feel safe in the US anymore; they are fundraising to move to somewhere in Europe, probably Norway or Sweden, where they will be less likely to experience violent persecution. You can read more and support the fundraiser here.

like-the-midnight-sun and her wife are also hoping to get temporary assistance with a vet bill before they go out of town; the appointment is the day before payday and they won't be able to cover it until they are paid. They need a loan of $150 that they can pay back; you can give (with repayment on March 30th) via paypal here, via Venmo to ARZinzani (9980), or via Chime at $Nassun-0428.

Recurring Needs:

thelastpyler is raising funds to help with food, transportation, and replacement IDs after being robbed; you can read more, reblog, and find giving information here.

And this has been Radio Free Monday! Thank you for your time. You can post items for my attention at the Radio Free Monday submissions form. If you're new to fundraising, you may want to check out my guide to fundraising here.

#radio free monday #charity #philanthropy #fannish community

[rookiesbookies]

Hi, I really love the greek gods au for the boys, could I request some more hcs for them?

I was lowkey so excited to have an ask! Welcome Anon! I appreciate you! You have braved my inbox and im super excited to have you!

I saw you ask and wrote this as fast as I could with some of the other ideas for them that swim around my brain.

Let me know what you think!

Masterlist is pinned on my account as always, and my inbox is open!

Price

He had Hephaestus forge him a special razor so he could always keep his mustache in check after an incident where he tried to use a human razor and broke it.

He wears human clothes, he does have his godly robes but he prefers to wear something that may be comforting for whatever sacrificial woman he has at a given moment.

Has debated no longer accepting the women as sacrifices

for a long string of time the women were just the horniest ones or the village prostitutes. While they were nice for a week or two he did end up finding them homes elsewhere

Gaz says he fosters women like cats.

Price isnt looking at fostering anymore though. This most recent accidental sacrifice has by far been his favorite. She’s so warm, causes no problem, and isn’t like the last one he got who owned 8 cats.

Price likes cats, just not 8 of them.

He also worries Zeus will try to take his woman

Which is why the woman is hidden and protected by Price’s powerful shield from anyone who tries to creep on her. He doesn’t want his woman threatened by Hera.

Hera already knows he has decided to marry this one, as the goddess of marriage and is probably the most proud of him compared to Zeus’ other bastard children.

Soap

He most often wears his godly armor instead of his robes or human clothes.

The human clothes are really only to go see Price, the robes are really only for relaxing in his house, but the armor is for working.

He has to really just follow around his dad, Ares

He doesn’t know his goddess mom, and Ares wont tell him. Honestly he questions if he’s even Ares because the relationship isnt very father-son, they’re more just like Coworkers

He says his mom is probably Aphrodite but who knows

He spends most of his time with Simon.

Simon is relaxed and comes to work with him sometimes. Usually accidentally causing a cold breeze with his presence.

Soap linda digs the dark robes, he hates how shiny his white ones are.

Definitely hides amongst humans when he gets pent up or frustrated from work.

Gods are so demanding in bed, he’d rather have a human.

With Price looking like he’s going to settle down with his newest sacrifice, Soap thinks about finding his own woman. Price’s helps him cook and clean and look like she’d take it with no problems. Soap kinda wants that now

Ghost

He’s a very antisocial god.

Price has tried to get him to loosen up.

Price has offered him the best of some of the sacrifices that he didn’t get along with.

Simon just hasn’t shifted.

He buddies around with Soap, says its because their work is the most similar.

In reality Soap is the one person he favors the most. Keegan is also up there, but he’s no Johnny.

He never understood why Price took the sacrifices of women. He doesnt bother with the mountain god who gets on his nerves. He loves Gaz but his social battery just dies.

He doesnt see anyone loving that.

Not to mention, he’s the god of Winter. His fingers are cold, his robes are a dark black instead of a beautiful white because he’s from the underworld, and he spends a lot of time down there as well.

He refuses to kidnap a woman how Hades had. Says he had standards and is too attractive for that. Tells people he’ll get a woman when he wants one.

Persephone worries about him. Persephone wants a daughter-in-law who can bring her cold son out of this.

Even Demeter worries, and she loves when he visits. She has no more work when he comes into town, she just wish he didn’t reek of death from the underworld.

Konig

You think Konig was tall at somewhere between 6’7” and 6’10”? Now he’s like 8 feet tall.

He’s probably the loneliest of all of gods, he lives at the top of his mountain (which is kinda like the one of Olympus where it was kinda just a glorified hill) and doesn’t get much company, unlike the 141 group.

He does wear a veil because of his anxiety, being a lonely god makes you self conscious, what if all the other gods are much more handsome?

He wears robes, unlike the 141 group, he doesnt try to blend in with humans so he only has his godly robes.

He doesnt often get sacrifices either, since his altar is at the top of the mountain. Its why he doesnt intervene when the war people come often.

If only there was a way to sacrifice someone to keep him company, he’d never need much more again.

Especially with Atlas holding up the world.

Zeus told him he was born from a single drop of Atlas’ sweat hitting the ground.

Konig has never met Atlas. So he wouldn’t doubt he maybe is secretly a Zeus child? However he doesn’t mind not being a Zeus child. Hera doesn’t give him problems and he likes it that way.

He cooks, he cleans. He’d do anything for someone to spend a bit of time with. He might start scoping out the local village and town again. Last time he was disappointed by all the interesting ones being taken, so he stayed at a distance. But maybe he’d try again.

Keegan

Work is always calling Keegan.

As Thanatos says, “humans wont stop dying, birthing, fucking, or breathing”

Keegan doesn’t disagree.

He has black robes, similar to Ghost’s as they’re both from the underworld. He has spent a great deal of time with Simon as he has to deal with people suffering from hypothermia in the harsh winters.

Simon doesn’t cold shoulder him like most others. Compared to the gods from the underworld, Keegan is quite friendly. He just knows people dont live forever.

Or he hasn’t learned Price can protect humans and living things from death yet.

He has a solid relationship with Thanatos. He cant complain especially next to Soap’s and Price’s situations

He hasn’t ever really spent time with the 141 group because he’s worried he’ll have to get up and leave randomly due to his job.

He also doesn’t have human clothes like they do. He often wonders where they came from.

His home is in the underworld, so he worries about a human living there if he ever were to take on a bride.

Maybe he’d find a nice goddess like Hades did. But Price makes humans seem so nice.

He just worries he wouldnt be home enough to care for his human or he’d have to take his human to work to make sure she got enough vitamin D… i mean he can always gives you vitamin D but it’s a different vitamin.

He’s also worried about touching a human because what if he accidentally kills them or something ridiculous like that?

Too many risks. Maybe. Unless someone is brave enough to prove them wrong.

Gaz

He saves a lot of dropped babies from serious damage. He never shows himself, always stays invisible to the human eye, but he saves a lot of babies.

Also saves a lot of kids. Toddlers and young children fall quite a bit.

He has the whitest and cleanest and shiniest robes btw

But yeah he loves saving kids. Especially when he can show his form because adults don’t believe kids anyway.

Especially if they say they were saved by a god.

He also saves quite a bit of animals. Like bird eggs.

He just prefers saving kids.

He thinks they’re really darn cute.

Wouldn’t mind a few of his own

Doesnt help Hermes keeps teasing him though.

Hermes never misses a chance to remind him he came from him jerking it on a cloud and letting it fall to the earth.

Hermes thinks its really funny.

Gaz wouldn’t hate a partner. Nymph, Human, or Goddess.

He’s taken a couple of them to bed and has to say Human is his favorite.

Did he mention he saves a lot of kids?

Would you, maybe, like to save his, perhaps, for like 9 months?

Krueger

Sebastian makes Konig’s world a bit less lonely? However isn’t the most wonderful company.

Definitely defiles the virgins of random towns near by.

Has fun telling them he’s a god and was sent by their towns patron to defile them

Lowkey Hera had to ask if he was one of Zeus

He was actually carved from clay and given gifts from gods

Artemis made him a skilled hunter, Hades made him a quick thinker, Athena gave him tactical knowledge, Ares gave him strength, Apollo gave him impermeable skin, Zeus gave him a big dick, Eris gave him wild anger

The usual

His job is not terribly demanding and has quite a bit of free time to spend with Konig

He has big dark armor and a giant axe. Definitely has a lot of fun with it

his dream is to get a temple of his own and his own priestesses who would do his bidding and pray to him their city doesnt go on a hit list for the gods

He also dreams to get a virgin sacrificed to him.

He isnt greedy like Price when it comes to women, he just wants one. One is all he would need.

He’d never need to go around defiling random virgins anymore, he’d just get to have his virgin at home.

He’d love to have his own servant. He’d treat her well he promises. He’d love an embarrassed virgin for himself.

#cod x reader #call of duty #captain price #ghost cod #john price #john soap mactavish #konig x reader #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #keegan russ x reader #cod keegan #keegan p russ #konig call of duty #captain john price #john price x reader #simon ghost x reader #soap x reader #gaz x reader

[kenphobia]

HEY LOVER!

"Hey lover, won't you treat me right?"

summary. wally may be the town's darling but in his eyes and heart, you're the actual darling <3 (headcanons / 0.9k wc / see end notes)

contents. tooth-rotting fluff, kind of crackship core, romantic relationship. read my pinned post before interacting!

✦ Perhaps, you were a new neighbor or just a random puppet from the outskirts of the neighborhood— whoever and where ever you are, you were bound to meet Wally some point in your life.

✦ Wally is a curious puppet and loves putting his (imaginary) nose into places he shouldn't be putting, and you caught his eye for some unknown reason. It was fine enough, he was only interested about your life before the neighborhood and what kind of things you like. Eventually, you started asking the same questions back at him and it went on from there.

✦ There was always something that Wally would get interested in someone, no matter how pathetic and boring they look and are. It's up for your own interpretation why he was so intrigued by your person in the first place, maybe it was your personality? Your smile? Your voice? Wally loves it all regardless.

✦ Being the town's local artist, Wally takes most of his inspiration from his surroundings and sooner or later, he began adding bits of you in his paintings. It began when you happened to be one of the many faces he painted to crowd his landscape paintings until he started painting portraits of you, many and many canvases pilling up in the corner, and all of them were of you.

✦ I wouldn't exactly say Wally was embarrassed, but he was coy. He only showed you few of those portraits and gave it you, but most of them are tucked somewhere in his house aka his bedroom. He reasoned was because they're unfinished when in reality, he couldn't properly 'sleep' without having a bit of you near him, even if it's just a painting he made.

✦ Wally loves it when you spend time with his friends too, especially when you get along with Barnaby! The canine puppet was his bestest friend and enjoys spending time with you two at the same time. He couldn't help but fawn over his two favorite people hanging out and actually being friends. Seems like a dream for him, to be honest.

✦ Before you and Wally had made it 'official', everyone assumed the two of you were already a thing. It was confusing, to say the least. It makes sense once you realized how lovey dovey you two had acted around each other.

Upon hearing a knock on your door, you immediately rushed to it and opened it. Though, you were about to open your mouth and blurt out a greeting, you stopped your tracks as you saw Frank holding Wally by his collar. Wally didn't look too happy being held up like a wet, pathetic cat.

"Sorry to disturb you, (Name), but I believe this is yours." Frank began, motioning to the smaller puppet beside them. "Your little boyfriend over here was found stealing few of Howdy's apples again."

You blinked, furrowing your brows in complete and utter confusion. "I— First of all, Boyfriend? And second of all, he was doing what again?"

"He was caught messing with the apples for the 3rd time this week. Eddie's dealing with an angry Howdy right now and we have to deal with your lovebirds' troubles because we're the only other couple here unfortunately." Frank explained, doing various of hand actions.

"I'm sorry, but me and Wally aren't a couple??"

Frank made a sound of confusion and acknowledgement. "Hm, I thought you were one of us. My mistake."

"I- I have no idea if you mean if we're also gay or if we're also in relationship like you and Eddie."

"Are we though?"

"Wally, I swear to god—"

✦ Wally is extremely touch starved, like most residents, and doesn't know what to do when you do give him affection so he goes limp in your arms. It takes him a few seconds to recover once you release him though, maybe stumbling a bit when you settle him back down on the floor or even crashing back into you. The latter would definitely happen and you'd be stuck with him atop you until someone pulls him off or you do.

✦ Whenever Home locks Wally out, you'd offer him to stay in your house. He'd deny a couple of times, but he'd later come with you since he doesn't want to stay out at night. He never really liked the dark anyways.

✦ He was a little nightlight at both yours and his place, and would ask you tell him bedtime stories. He doesn't sleep, yes, but he does enjoy laying down beside you and being used as some sort of stuff animal. He also even closes his eyes, so you'd think he's sleeping. You know he isn't and often call his BS.

"You know, (Name), that was the bestest sleep I had. We should do a sleepover again." Wally sugguested once, enjoying a lovely breakfast with you. He had turned away from his plate to face you for a moment, his pupils shrinking down.

"Wally, you don't sleep." You deadpanned, holding a cup of warm coffee in your hand.

"How would you know that, (Name)?" Wally tilted his head, smiling.

"Chanting 'I am sleeping' with your eyes closed doesn't count as sleeping, Wally."

✦ You're also the first one people would go to if Wally got into trouble. He's always off messing with Howdy's apples, 'borrowing' Julie's hairspray supply, breaking and entering in someone's house, etc... As much as many felonies Wally had committed, you still love him.

✦ You just wish he wasn't so nosy to make up for his lack of a nose.

end notes. rewritten version of my previous yan!wally headcanons, friendly neighbor, although you could say this is just a normal headcanon that isn't derived from a now deleted post and it's stíll fine <33

i wanted to keep the old title but bleh, this is romantic so yeehaw (this was also queued btw lol)

requests are always open and my inbox is free for any recs (podcasts, args, etc), chatter and info dumping. ask for updates and i will burn your house like wally burned your mom /lh

#writing log! #welcome home #welcome home x reader #wally darling x reader

[auspicioustidings]

Firewatch Part 9

Summary: Johnny and Kyle come to a realisation and you take a chance to escape.

Words: 2.3k

CW: Kidnapping

You had mostly expected to wake up in Price's arms, but you instead woke up to see him asleep in one of the armchairs. He was a big man, it was a little ridiculous to see him sleeping in a chair. You glanced out the window, it looked like it was maybe late afternoon. 

Had Price stayed the whole time then? If he was going to stay why not climb into bed with you since that clearly seemed to be their play here? It kept you so off balance that none of them had… Well there were plenty of horror stories on the news for you to imagine. And they had kidnapped you. Four men had kidnapped you and had made it clear they at least wanted you. It was starting to sink in that at any time they could decide to have you and there wouldn't be much you could do about it. But they hadn't. The one time one of them hadn't backed off as soon as you asked there had been consequences for him.

You felt more rested if still exhausted, but it was enough to feel anger building again. It was infuriating that they weren't monsters. You didn't want them to be because the thought was terrifying, but at least then you'd know where you stood. At least then you could be solid in hating them rather than finding them to be the kind of men you would have liked to have known before this mess. 

It was a temptation to just roll over and go back to sleep in some form of protest, but you resisted and got out of bed as quietly as you could. Price didn’t stir and for a moment you had the mad thought that you could sneak out the window. You still didn’t have shoes, but if you snuck out and they didn’t notice would it give you enough of a head start? Would you even be able to navigate the woods? There was a dirt trail for cars to come to and from, it must go the whole way to town if the police had visited. If you followed it, kept just in the treeline so you weren’t so easily found…

You were starting to drift towards the window in a bit of a trance, the only thing snapping you out of it was the sound of voices somewhere else in the cabin. You paused and focused in to listen.

“--love her anymore?”

“Come on Soap, you think the same.”

“...aye maybe. Naw really what we signed up for is she?”

“That’s it, better bury our girl out in the yard then.”

“Och I’ll miss her ye ken? Spent so long loving her.”

You’d take your chances in the woods.

–

“I think I might actually have a crush on her.”

Soap gave Gaz a look that belayed the fact he thought what had just come out of his mouth was utter nonsense. He was sat at the kitchen island, fingers rubbing the fabric of the blanket Ghost had stolen from your house. Dosia was grumpily headbutting Soap’s legs and then pretending she hadn’t now that nobody she actually liked was about to pay her any attention. He had originally tried to pet her and gotten hissed at, so now he was steadfastly pretending she wasn’t showing him any affection to make her feel better. 

“Ye’ve been in love with her for a year and now ye have a crush?”

Gaz sighed and rested his head on his arm, staring at the fabric in his fingers. It was a blanket that didn’t seem like it belonged to you anymore. It had belonged to the girl he had loved that was true, but she had never existed had she? She was this delicate little thing, a pretty little dove he had wanted to keep on display and care for. 

That was not the woman in the cabin with them. No, that woman was brash and swore and fought. She had fuck all manners when she ate and snorted when she laughed and was trying to pretend she hadn’t. She treated her cat like it was her baby. She wasn’t some innocent little lamb either, she was a great kisser and wasn’t shy about barking at him to shove his fingers in her. By all accounts, that woman was not someone he would ever think was one he would like.

It terrified him actually. You were real now and you were not what he thought, so why was it so easy for him to let that dream girl go? Why did he touch this blanket and not feel a damn thing after all that obsession? Instead there was another feeling bubbling up when he thought about you. He didn’t know if it was love, but then he was pretty sure what he had been feeling was never love in the first place. This new feeling was thrilling and fragile but he wanted to keep it. 

“I like her. The real person. She’s sort of a pain in the arse but she’s fun.”

“The real person?”

“We really fucked it all up didn’t we?”

Soap sighed and leaned over the counter, head lolling into one hand while the other played with the edges of the blanket. The tangible object they had associated with you all this time. Or well, that they had associated with some imagined girl. They really had fucked it all up. 

“So now ye just don’t love her anymore?”

“Come on Soap, you think the same.”

All things considered, he did. He smiled with a bittersweet fondness at the blanket, feeling like he was letting go of something. 

“...aye maybe. Naw really what we signed up for is she?”

“That’s it, better bury our girl out in the yard then.”

The two looked at one another with a grin. It was a silly thing to bury a blanket. But it was what it represented that was important. It was burying an obsession with someone that wasn’t real, wasn’t a person. It was letting go of what they thought they had wanted and embracing what it was they had, because even after so short a span of time they had realised that what they had was so much better. It was real. You were real.

“Och I’ll miss her ye ken? Spent so long loving her.”

He shared a small smile with Gaz. Johnny didn’t know how to pick apart the flurry of emotions in him and figure out how he wanted this to end, he just knew he wanted to keep talking to you, learning about you. It was going to be a lot harder now to keep you here against your will now that he liked you as a real person, but he was nothing if not a selfish bastard.

They put the blanket lovingly aside, Johnny gave Dosia some scratches behind the ears which she duly pretended was not happening while purring and they got to work making a frankly irresponsible amount of brunch in the hopes they could get to your heart through your stomach.

–

It was a miracle Price hadn’t woken up. A small part of you knew it meant he was exhausted as well, that this was hard on him. Well his two men were already about to get rid of you and presumably start again with a nicer, more receptive girl. She probably enjoyed cooking and cleaning. Was probably going to be wonderful and submissive and would never yell at them. Johnny would never lose his temper with her. Simon would never wind up punished because he lost control with her. Would Price go and buy her favourite shampoo? Would she like tasting oranges from Kyle’s fingers? You had.

The “road” really wasn’t much of a road. It was painful to walk on in bare feet and you were hissing every time you landed on a particularly sharp stone. You saw there was a pick up truck and considered stealing it, but you didn’t want to go searching for the keys knowing it increased the likelihood of you getting caught. When you glanced in just to make sure they weren’t in the car you saw it was a stick shift. Well that idea was out, you had learned on an automatic and would absolutely stall loudly if you tried to drive this thing.

So you were walking. Not running because you would absolutely wind up with a broken ankle and then you were really screwed. You could grit your teeth through it. Your mind drifted to what the hell you would say when you emerged. If you told the police the truth then all four of them were going to jail. If you lied then they would be free to take you again. Christ you felt bad enough about Simon being banished to the tower, could you handle all of them being put in a cell?

God it was sweltering, a stark comparison to how cold it had been last night. You had to take off the hoodie and tie it off around your waist. Maybe you should tear it apart to wrap around your feet? But then what happened when the sun set and the cold came in. You hoped you would be out of the woods by then. This place would be terrifying in the dark. 

You stayed just off the road in the treeline, hoping that it would make it tricky to spot you from the tower if you were under the trees. At some point you stopped taking breaks fearing that if you stopped again you would not be able to get up. Your feet hurt, you were thirsty and hot and hungry. You wanted to curl up with your damn cat. It was with a dose of self-loathing that you realised you wanted to laugh with Kyle when she was mean to Johnny.

When you heard the distant rumble of the truck you moved further from the road, waiting for the sound to pass. They knew you were gone then. Were doing the most obvious thing first and going down the road to see if you were on it. You were far enough in the trees that you couldn’t see the road anymore. You hadn’t thought you had went that far, maybe only a few minutes, but you were turned around. You turned, trying to figure out which direction the road was with a mounting sense of panic. 

Fuck. Idiot! You had seen the stories about what happened to people who went off the trail this far in the forest. It was fine near the edge where your cottage had been, where there were little walking trails (although admittedly the first few times you had ventured out you hadn’t spotted them), but this far out? You knew that they always said you should stay where you are, wait for someone to come and find you. Except they had no way of knowing which part of the road you had left from. 

At least if you died it’d be on your own terms you tried to rationalise. They were going to kill you, but you had no guarantee they wouldn’t brutalise you first, so maybe wandering out never to be seen again was better. Just because your heart stupidly told you they were good people didn’t mean they were. You hoped they kept Dosia at least, they seemed fond enough of her. 

You were angry at the tears welling up, knowing that you couldn’t really afford to lose any hydration. There was a sudden bitter regret for making fun of those survivalist shows. You should have paid attention. Were you supposed to try get to high ground? No, you should find water. Did you just pick the direction that was your best guess to get to the road? You’d be able to see the stars when the sun fully set, and the brightest would be North you thought. Didn’t much help knowing North because you could not visualise a map. 

Your feet were so sore now. You sat against a tree, the discomfort of sitting on the ground vastly outweighed by the relief of getting weight off of your feet. You didn’t want to look and see how bad it was so you ignored it. You just let your head fall back against the tree trunk and closed your eyes, imagining you were back home. If the men that had kidnapped you were in your little imagining it was not something you would ever admit out loud.

–

Simon Riley did another rotation. Price had called it in an hour ago and ordered him to keep a watch for you while they searched on the ground. Fuck he was so mad at you, what were you thinking? When they got you back he was going to cuff you to the fucking bed anytime they left you alone. Night was falling, the temperature was dropping. 

“Come on sweetheart, give me something” he mumbled, looking for any sign from the trees. 

You would never have made it on foot even if you had taken the road, not without shoes, not so late in the day. It got dark out here, so dark you could barely tell where you were going without a torch. What the fuck had happened while he was gone? He trusted his team, he couldn’t entertain the idea that they might have been so cruel to you that you thought dying out there was better. 

It was another 8 hours until there was finally an update from Price over the radio.

“Found her. Get home Simon, she’s in a bad way.”

#mhairiwrites #cod au #fanfic #tf 141 x reader #not the direction I thought this was going when I started writing this chapter this morning #and yet here we are

[gillyeowalters]

I love the small things about Warframe's design so much. Like, the Duviri architecture.

[Spoilers!]

The houses obviously are just wall parts of the Zariman, arranged to look like settlements/towns. The same goes for many of the harvestable plants, that also mimic Zariman design elements (especially noticeable with the cactus-like Ueymag, that has an unnaturally symmetrical shape, mimicking the often repeated tuning fork-shape).

Duviri has multiple bioms, plains, snowy mountains, a desert, but they are all way too small to exist naturally.

All this paints the picture of a world created by the mind of a child, who might have never seen anything else but the inside of a spaceship. They might have never seen other architecture, so all houses have to look like they were ripped straight out of the Zariman's structure. They know that mountains and deserts exist, but they do not understand their scale, so they become just one more small piece of Duviri. Just like cartographs back in history they fill the unknown of their world with set pieces and the skeletal structures found all over Duviri lend themselves for a comparison to this "Here there be dragons" mindset.

Children build and recreate what they know all the time to learn and better understand it, but also to express their wishes and creativity. This gives the idea of a child, confined in space, wishing to get to be somewhere else, visiting the places they have heard of.

We get to see quite a few rather large settlements in Duviri, but the amount of houses and people does not seem to match. In general, only very few people seem to be roaming the streets. This is not an adult doing extensive worldbuilding, this is a child with a lot of building blocks but very few dolls building a world on which they can project their emotions and memories onto.

Most of Duviris normal inhabitants are just decorations, not existing to be characters, but because a town "needs to have people in it". They are not defined by who they are, but by what they do- and what they do is react to the player, sit around, talk and cower in fear when enemies approach.

The simple shapes of the buildings are very close to the concept of real life building blocks. Paedagogic toys often are simple, to allow for easy handling and more creative freedom.

The theme of death is also omnipresent. Every animal resembles a carcass build from metal plating and even the Dax enemies are skeleton-like, the Gladius' helmets lower part even resembling a rabbit skull. We obviously know how the story of the Zariman ended and the skulls and bones might be just an indicator of potential danger, but what if the skeletal design of Duviri's inhabitants are not supposed to indicate not (just) death, but an infinished state? They are walking skeletons, yet missing a skin, their shape, just like the fractured bodies of the townspeople, not fully formed out in the child's head. Since the townspeople are humanoid though, they look more finished, while all the child might have ever seen of sheep, cats, dogs, horses and owls could have very well been just pictures in a school book, maybe next to a diagram of their underlying anatomy (after all, one of the few things we get to experience of the daily life on the Zariman, is school).

There is also an enemy called the Dax Herald. A Herald was a specialist in ceremonies, making sure that they were held correctly (besides also having diplomativ tasks). Their head resembles a security camera, adding a layer of oppressive social norms normal humans certainly suffered under in the orokin empire

#warframe #warframe design #warframe ramblings

[trulybetty]

Stood Up | Frankie Morales x f!Reader

Pairing: Frankie Morales x F!Reader (no use of Y/N) Word Count: 1,668 Warnings: being stood up, torrential rain (always bring an umbrella), mentions of alcohol, a difference of opinions on Top Gun and some could call this fluff Summary: Stood up for a date that left you in the pouring rain, you seek refuge in a sports bar and before you can change your mind the man next to you strikes up a conversation AO3: Linked

A/N: so, I was supposed to be working on Bookstore Frankie as per the WIP poll the other day and technically (in my head at least) this is Bookstore Frankie, we're just meeting him a long time before he becomes Bookstore Frankie lol.

Also, consider this is my entry for @pedrostories’ celebration, enjoy! xx

Stood Up

The Seattle rain was relentless. It wasn’t even supposed to rain that day, the forecast ironically calling for sun and highs of warm heat, which had meant you’d left the house in a maxi dress and your flimsy denim jacket. So that meant no umbrella and certainly no practical footwear for the torrential downpour you found yourself in for the date you’d left the house over an hour ago for.

You'd been stood up, and now, thanks to All-Star Week, cabs were impossible to find.

You checked your phone once more, Uber was a wait of over an hour, said date had left you on read and Cat, your friend with a text. One that promised as soon as she could get out of dinner with her husband and his parents, would come and get you with a bottle of wine to commiserate the evening over at your place.

The door to the dimly lit bar slammed shut behind you, cutting off the relentless sound of rain pounding the pavement. You were soaked to the bone, rain dripping off your hair to your face, and in a less-than-stellar mood. 

As you settled into a barstool and ordered a stiff drink, you tried to shake off the frustration. The bartender served you with an understanding smile and you were just beginning to relax when a voice from the end of the bar cut through the chatter of the bar.

“How would you like to ride home on a real cowboy?”

You looked up, and some guy in a ten-gallon hat made eye contact with you with a flourish of said hat and a wink. Based on the accent and the Texas Rangers shirt he was certainly from out of town.

Your eyes rolled at the cheesy attempt, dismissing it with a casual brush-off. The downpour seemed to amplify the irritation simmering within you. Tonight was not the night for clichéd pick-up lines, especially from individuals who seemed to believe they had some inherent right to your attention.

As you took a sip of your drink, you exhaled and began to second-guess coming into the bar. You prayed for Cat to show up soon and get you out of there. Looking through the window, you thought about downing your drink and fleeing for somewhere else less crowded. You were already drenched; what more could the rain do?

But before you could think on it any further from the other side of you, a deep laugh resonated, and you glanced over to find a guy wearing a ball cap labelled 'Standard Oil', a beer resting in his hand, his eyes crinkled as he smiled.

“Can't believe that line didn't work. What's this world coming to?” he joked, raising his glass in a mock salute.

Despite your mood, a reluctant smile tugged at your lips, “A horse did me wrong once, a cowboy and I would be destined for heartbreak from the get-go,” you replied, playing along.

“How about a pilot?”

You raised an eyebrow, you hadn't missed the aviation logo on the shoulder of his shirt, “I feel like I’m being set up for a Village People joke here,” you eyed him wearily, “how often does that line work for you?”

He laughed into this glass as he took another sip, “A lot less than you think.”

You took another sip of your drink, “What a surprise.”

“Frankie,” he said, extending his hand.

You took it, his grip firm and warm and gave him your name.

He gestured to your soaked clothes, “Rough night?”

“You could say that,” you admitted.

Despite your initial want to just drown your sorrows and maybe scroll through Instagram while you waited for Cat, you found yourself in conversation with Frankie. Turned out he was actually a pilot, a little elusive on the details of what exactly he did in the military, but a pilot nonetheless. That and he was currently stationed temporarily out of McChord Field, in Pierce County. He was up in Seattle for the weekend to meet up with some friends coming in from their own deployments.

Frankie's face turned playfully serious, his eyes widening as he said, “You're breaking my fucking heart, baby.”

You laughed, leaning back in your chair. “Oh, come on! You’ve got to agree with me?!”

He grinned, shaking his head. “I never thought I'd meet someone so smart and yet so wrong at the same time.”

You playfully swatted his arm. “I could say the same about you.”

Frankie's eyebrows shot up in genuine disbelief, and his lips curved into a playful half-smile as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing. “Not like 'Top Gun'? That's almost sacrilege in my line of work!” His eyes sparkled with amusement, revealing his lighthearted take on the situation. 

When he’d mentioned he worked in aviation within the military, you’d jokingly asked if it was all like Top Gun and if he was a Maverick. Frankie had laughed at the question as he’d flagged down the bartender for another drink for you both. That had been before you’d voiced your true feelings on the 1986 cult classic.

You shrugged, sipping your drink. “I don't know, maybe it's the cheesy one-liners, or perhaps I just don't get the appeal of fighter jets.”

He gasped dramatically, clutching at his chest. “The appeal of fighter jets? Oh, you're really twisting the knife now.”

You giggled at his antics. The more you talked to him, the more you liked him. He didn't take himself too seriously. It was refreshing, especially considering your recent string of bad luck in the dating department.

“I'm sorry, I just don't get it,” you admitted, shaking your head.

Frankie's eyes softened, and he reached over to gently touch your arm. “It's okay. We can't all have perfect taste.”

“You think your taste is perfect?” you teased, enjoying the banter that had been flowing between you two all evening.

“In some things,” he winked, making your cheeks heat furiously.

When your phone buzzed with a message from Cat, signalling that she was outside, you found yourself a little reluctant to leave. It was strange, feeling a connection with a stranger on a night that had started with disappointment, and a part of you wanted to hold onto that feeling a bit longer. Frankie seemed to feel the same way, his eyes lingering on you as you gathered your things.

“Well Frankie, thank you for being a bright light in what was almost a terrible evening.”

“Pleasure is all mine,” he replied, his voice warm.

The two of you paused for a moment, the atmosphere suddenly more serious. He'd already mentioned that he was stationed temporarily and had hinted at an upcoming deployment. And though the good company and the buzz from the drinks had lightened your mood, you were still reeling from being stood up by the man you'd really thought you'd had a chance with.

You waved goodbye to Frankie and headed outside, the rain still falling heavily. As you approached Cat's car, thoughts of Frankie lingered in your mind, leaving you with a strange mixture of excitement and melancholy.

You were just about to open the door to the passenger side of Cat’s car when the noise from inside the bar broke through over the sound of the rain. Turning around Frankie was coming out of the door, you watched him look around before his eyes settled on you with a smile.

Throwing up the umbrella he had in his hands he dashed the short distance over to you, “Look,” he shouted to be heard over the traffic and the storm that was now brewing, “I thought maybe,” he paused looking a little at war with himself before he spoke again, “we could do this again? Maybe without the rain and the cowboy.” he joked and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Sure, I’d like that.”

He pulled his hand out of his pocket and pressed a napkin into your hand. Under the cover of his umbrella, you opened it to see his name scrawled with his phone number and you shot him a smile.

“Call me?” Frankie asked, his voice suddenly softer, more intimate despite the storm raging around you.

“I will,” you assured him, tucking the napkin safely into your pocket.

With a final smile and a lingering look, Frankie dashed back towards the bar, and you climbed into Cat's car, your heart still pounding in your chest.

Cat, ever the observant friend, was already eyeing you with curiosity. “Okay, spill. Who was that guy? And why are you smiling like you've just won the lottery?”

You looked over at her, your grin widening. “That is Frankie. We just spent the last few hours talking in the bar.”

“Frankie?” Cat's eyebrows shot up. “Also, you stayed in that bar with a stranger for hours? That doesn't sound like you.”

And it really wasn’t, even going out for the date that eventually stood you up had been a push outside your comfort level.

Cat narrowed her eyes. “You sure you're not being catfished by this guy?”

You rolled your eyes, a laugh escaping your lips. “Cat, that means online, not in person.”

“Same thing,” Cat retorted, not missing a beat as she started the car. “You never know these days.”

“Anyway, he's only here for a temporary assignment between deployments. Not like anything really is going to happen.”

Cat glanced at you, her expression softening. “It's okay to have fun here and there, you know. Doesn't have to be serious all the time.”

You sighed, leaning against the window. “I know. It's just… different.”

“Different is good,” Cat said, her voice softening as she pulled away from the curb, knowing all too well your past relationship history. “Different can be very good.”

You looked at her, realizing how much you appreciated her support, even with her teasing. “Yeah, maybe.”

Cat's smile widened as she focused on the road. “Of course I'm right. Now tell me everything about this Frankie guy.”

#pedrostories1k #frankie morales/f!reader #frankie morales/you #frankie morales/reader #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x f!reader #triple frontier fanfiction

[dearshelby]

All I can give you (not what you asked for) | T.S

Summary: After being beaten up by Sabini's men, Tommy sneaks out of the hospital to go to London. After coming back home, he has to face his wife, who isn't happy in the slightest

A/N: "Stop writing little snippets your OC as reader inserts, Lora" no <3 I wanted to write something domestic, but at the same time something that showed what being with Tommy is really like + playing around with his trauma and the lack of understanding in the 1920s, I hope I managed to do that. Also, the song mentioned is by American quartet if you want to listen, it surprisingly fits the PB universe. That's it, hope you like it!

She's been visiting him every single day ever since. Bringing soup, cigarettes and books, everything so he wouldn't get bored, everything so he'd heal faster.

The night the phone rang, telling the news Tommy was beat up by Sabini's men, her world nearly crashed. Her lips dried, vision blurry as she sat on the cold floor, keeping herself from passing out. Her Tommy could've died, he would have if Inspector Campbell didn't have plans for him.

Guilt weighted on her shoulders when she saw him lying on the hospital's bed, injured and weak. At the same time she was relieved and pressed small kisses on his forehead, inhaling his scent and avoiding his cut lips. It wasn't then they'd take him from her.

"I'll come back tomorrow," she always said, trusting he'd be there, that he'd be back home soon.

Except that one certain morning he wasn't, Tommy's absence caught everyone by surprise, absolutely no one knew how a limping, beaten up man managed to sneak out of the hospital and in that distressing moment, her world nearly crashed again.

She ran back home, reaching for the phone to call Polly, Arthur, John, Lizzie, anyone Tommy could've gone to, none of them knew anything. However, in a matter of minutes, the phone rang back, Uncle Charlie's voice on the other side, "Tommy went to London, Camden town, he asked me to tell ya', he'll call when he get there,"

Her tense shoulders dropped, eyes burning with tears, a brief thank you was all she muttered before putting the phone down. Running hands through her hair, she breathed slowly in a failing attempt to calm down.

Somewhere in Camden, Tommy wandered around covered in bruises, perhaps unarmed and what for? What could be so fucking important he had to risk his life for?

Without option, she waited for his call, her heart beat stronger to the sound of his voice, he was fine and by then, it was all that mattered, she'd release her frustration once he was home, safe and sound.

More four, long days went by until his return, their daughter greeted him first, lifting her tiny arms with the demand of being picked up, which Tommy happily did.

When the two pairs of blue eyes looked at her combined with small smiles, she could swear her stomach swirled. A week and a half ago she thought she'd never see that scene again, perhaps it was the inconsistency that always got her so bad, that spun her world and brought bile to her throat, how life could change from a second to another, completely out of her control.

"What about you, eh?" Tommy drawled before her lack of reaction, "C'here."

Slowly, she joined the embrace, one arm around her daughter and the other around him. They were all she had, even if in theory she still had a mother and would never be helpless, they were the only people who truly mattered.

Tommy squeezed her shoulder in a soothing manner, the sigh leaving his lungs revealed how tired he truly was even if he didn't want to show in front of his child. He needed a bath, a decent meal and a good night of sleep.

Then night fell on, the house was silent except for the gramophone playing Moonlight Bay in low tone. Woodbine, a big gray cat, napped on the carpet, every now and then waking up to lick himself.

Once the baby - not actually a baby, already a two year old - fell asleep, Tommy walked back downstairs. He insisted on being the one to tuck her in, having missed her dearly in the weeks he spent between the hospital and London.

He found his wife sitting by the window with a cigarette hanging from her lips, an empty bow on her lap made him guess she only had a quick snack instead of proper dinner. Her hair fell on her shoulders, hiding the lace of her white nightgown.

"C'here, you," she weakly smiled, noticing his presence.

Walking to her, Tommy felt himself melting at her tender kiss, the cut on his lips wasn't fully healed yet, but he couldn't hold himself back from wanting more.

"No, Tommy," she faced the other way at his attempt to cup her cheeks, "I'm not exactly happy with you,"

"I know," he sighed, sitting on the armchair across hers, "that's why I got you this,"

Without taking his eyes off her, he took a small velvet box from his trousers pocket, the material alone told how expensive it must've been. Tommy opened it, showing a delicate ring adorned with a green stone.

"White gold and emerald," he explained, "saw it in a showcase, thought you'd like it,"

"You shouldn't waste money on jewelry, at least not for now, while the expansion isn't settled," she stared at the ring with a pout.

"It's not a waste if it's for you,"

"You only bought it because you thought it'd make me less mad at you," she accused, adopting a serious tone.

"...yeah," he admitted with a small smile, not catching up with her posture.

"Tommy, listen to me," taking the small box from his hands, she closed it and put it aside, "do you know how much I worried about you?"

Realizing what they were about to get into, he gulped, he knew leaving the hospital without telling her would have consequences, but he also knew she'd never allow his travel to London. He had no other option, she had to understand.

"Yeah, I do," he answered.

"And did you think some fucking ring would make me feel better?"

Tommy looked away from her, jaw clenching. She knew that face very well, it was a common occurrence after he came back from France, his eyes got empty, incredibly sad, then empty again. As if he momentarily stepped away from there, running away without actually moving a muscle.

"Well, this-" he negatively nodded, looking back at her, "this is all I can give you,"

"No, it isn't! What is it that you gave me?!" she argued, eyes widening in indignation, "Why do you always remove yourself? Isn't this our house? Our family? Our life?!"

He blinked, shallowing the dryness in his throat, "It is, love, it is, and I wouldn't have it if it wasn't for you,"

Rubbing her eyes, she sighed. She hated when Tommy behaved like a provider, as if he wasn't an actual part of her life and his presence didn't truly matter. That wasn't what she wanted from him.

"Well, I never asked for any of it," she blankly stated.

He didn't answer, looking down from her attentive stare.

"Do you even remember the only thing I ever asked for?" she questioned.

"Remind me,"

"You," she drawled, "I wanted to be with you, I asked to be, you agreed, so don't come at me with a stupid ring hoping it'll make forget the fact you could've died,"

"...perhaps," Tommy hesitated, "perhaps something more expensive then?"

"What?"

A tiny playful grin crept into his face, "Perhaps you'd forgive me if I had brought something more expensive?"

"I can't believe you! Tom, I'm not-" she tried to hold back a chuckle, but failed, "Tommy, the point is, I don't want you to think you can go around risking your life, doing whatever you want, then thinking a nice gift will fix everything, I worry about you,"

His face dropped in a quick mood swing, humorlessly smiling, he agreed, "That you do,"

"So, next time you think of doing something reckless, will you consider this?"

With a pout, Tommy quickly nodded, there was no use to discussion. Either way, he didn't have the words to explain the heart crushing feeling he got thinking of his family being vulnerable. He needed a guarantee and wouldn't stop, only be more careful by her request.

"Will you," he licked his lips, "take a look at the ring now?"

"Actually I was hoping you'd tell me how things were in London," she answered with a naughty smirk creeping into her face, "and then, maybe I'd let you take me to bed,"

"Maybe, eh?" he teased, "Or maybe not?"

"Depends on how much you're willing to talk, Mr. Shelby,"

Reclining on the armchair, Tommy lit up a cigarette, he knew her offer was more like an ultimatum, tell me what you're up to or else.

And only with her, he'd never retaliate.

#tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinder fanfic #OC Eleanor Shelby

[neonblessing]

1.

The cats were fighting, and Maggie was singing to them. It was Tater's birthday, apparently. How wonderful.

Shiv cracked her eyes open. The ceiling looked like shit: the paint was peeling, and there was some sort of stain spreading from one corner. The harsh morning light of the street lamps streamed into the room through the busted shade, casting crooked bars of shadow across the room.

The rest of the house looked worse than the ceiling. The cats had left scratches on everything they could reach, and time and neglect had left their marks on anything the cats couldn't. The furniture all looked out of place, collected over decades and haphazardly repaired.

From somewhere in the mismatched house, Maggie was babbling to her cats. "Come on, Candy. Share the fish with your brother. It's his birthday. Share the fish with the birthday baby!" Potato Chip's mournful wail filled the air, accompanied by the sound of chewing and a wary hiss.

Shiv sat up, wincing. She wrenched her head from side to side experimentally, to no avail. Rubbing her neck, she awkwardly swung her legs off the couch and stood up. Shiv picked her way over to the kitchen, for once managing not to stub her toe on the cabinet that protruded into the door frame.

"Morning, Mags."

Maggie jumped as Shiv spoke. "Oh, good morning! I made coffee." Maggie was fucking old. Her eyes were older than Shiv: they were some vintage shit, with protruding lenses that stopped her eyelids from properly closing. An awful little part of Shiv figured their value was somewhere in the neighborhood of 10 grand from an avid collector.

"Where'd you get the fish?" Shiv took a mug off its hook and poured herself some lukewarm coffee. The slogan on the side of the mug demanded silence, at least until the bearer had finished their name-brand coffee. The winking face of a defunct coffee logo grinned up at her as she took a sip.

"A trader's in town, just for the day. Some sort of pilgrim."

"Anything else good?"

"Protein bars, holy symbols, ID chips, and..." she looked around, as if Shiv hadn't swept the place for bugs last week, and dropped her voice. "...ammunition. No guns."

"What did you give him?"

"Some of the kitchen knives."

"You gave him knives for a fish?"

Maggie wrung her leathery hands nervously. "It's Potato Chip's birthday! Besides, they were getting dull."

"You have a whetstone!"

"I don't know how to use it right, and you..." she trailed off, but couldn't stop the glassy lenses of her eyes from flickering to Shiv's shoulder. Or rather, to where her shoulder used to be. Maggie swallowed, her gaudily-dyed hair bobbing in distress.

"I could have taught you! And Tater didn't even get to eat his fish." A contented Candy Bar wound her way about Maggie's legs, purring. Maggie opened and closed her mouth a few times, but said nothing.

Shiv wordlessly grabbed her bag off the couch. It still smelled like the factory that made it, even after a month. Much as it irked her to waste money–she’d already owned a perfectly serviceable bag–this one had velcro. Zippers were too much trouble these days.

She tore it open to behold the extent of her worldly possessions. A change of clothes. Her knife, the one Raz had given her. Rope. A pack of bandages. Disinfectant. Four days of nutrient bars. A wallet, empty save for a credit card and a few coins. A well-worn prayer tablet. A needle and a spool of thread. A ballpoint pen. Content that everything was where it should be, she closed the bag.

Shiv swung her bag over her good shoulder, then fumbled with the doorknob for a moment, nearly dropping her mug. Maggie took half a step forward as if to help, but whatever she saw in Shiv's eyes kept her rooted in place. Shiv pulled the hood of her coat up over her head, and turned to leave. "I… Sorry. I'm going out. Be back by midnight unless I get shot."

Next Page

#1 #neon blessing #shiv #maggie #potato chip #candy bar

[kookygranger]

Is This Desire?

Firefighter!Steve Harrington x Witch!Reader

Steve Harrington falls for you a little harder every time he meets you. Now you're free to live your life and he's ready to make a move on the girl he thinks about every day.

Warnings: 18+ minors dni, smut-ish (allusions to sex), secondary character death, witchcraft, reader is a town outcast, fem!reader, no upside down/no hawkins au

Word count: 2k

Author's note: This story is inspired by a trippy and vividly detailed dream I had, minus the lovechild because that's not my vibe but good for dream me I guess.

Series Masterlist | Next Chapter

Chapter One: When Under Ether

1979

The first time Steve Harrington saw you was on a brisk fall night. Brown leaves lifted in small whirlpools down the street as children’s laughter and sugar-induced screams permeated the air. It was Halloween.

Steve wanted to dress up as Robin Hood, his outfit complete with feathered cap and fox tail sitting on his navy-blue bedspread at home, but his friends thought trying was lame now – so he settled for a ripped shirt and a half-assed green face paint job. He wasn’t even sure if he was supposed to be a zombie or Frankenstein’s monster.

He’d done that a lot lately. Changed things about himself that others his age suddenly found uncool or only suitable behaviour for babies. He may not have known as much as the kids that sat up the front of class, but he knew one thing for sure, he didn’t want to be thought of as a baby.

Maybe that’s why he was stood in front of the rotting wooden gate that led up to the house at the end of Maple Street, so far away from the rest of the neighbours that it could only barely be counted. Unless it was to get its own street name entirely, which right now Steve felt like it could, as far away from safety as possible to his small legs.

See, the old Ravenwood house was only spoken about in whispers, its history revealed in rumours perpetuated by ghost story obsessed children for as long as anyone can even remember the house being occupied. And with its peeling paint, overgrown and weed-riddled front yard, and creaking front porch, it was a ripe opportunity for a young boy to prove that he was no scaredy cat on All Hallows’ Eve.

Steve walked up the sunken stone path with his two friends in tow. Tommy, the boy who’d suggested the dare earlier in the night brought up the rear of the small group, knobbly knees knocking together.

Steve was wiping his sweaty palms on his jeans when a flurry of bats, unnative to this part of the world, flew into their path, screeching only slightly higher than the two boys behind him who ran straight back through the front gate. His heart battered against his ribcage as he squeezed his eyes shut, taking a deep breath like his grandma had taught him to when he’d get mad or upset, and when he opened his eyes he saw you.

Watching curiously through the second-floor window, where you sat perched inside, a warm glow framing your small body. Steve thought you looked to be the same age as him, but he’d never seen you before. He smiled that charming Harrington grin he’d been told he possessed, then waved – you, more shyly returned the gesture. Then he’d heard his name called somewhere back beyond the threshold of this strange house, and he’d returned to his friends. Brushing off the ill attempt at machismo with talks of scoring candy.

When Steve’s head hit his pillow that night, veins pumping with sugar, he thought of you. He would never forget about the girl in the window. A beacon of light that dissolved his fears.

***

1986

The second time Steve saw you everything faded away into the background.

He’d been swapping occupational war stories with Robin at the bar in town, the one that didn’t refuse service based on age but based on your likeability according to the bartender. He’d made his way up to the bar through the lively post-work week crowd to order another round when he saw you. Through the far from sober bodies, tucked away on a barstool up against the wall, your hands playing with a sodden beer mat as your eyes wandered, people watching, Steve Harrington swore he saw the face of an angel.

Although time had changed you both, bodies growing up and through awkward stages, arms and chests filling out to be hugged now by the scratchy material of Steve’s striped polo and the soft cotton of your dress, your legs strong enough to bring a grown man to his knees (as far as Steve was concerned), the glint of a thin silver chain on the wrist that supported his big hands enough to capture the attention of almost all the girls in town – Steve had still known. It was you. By looks alone, you may have been a far cry from the little girl in the window, but he knew.

Inexplicably, for he could not cite the hairs on his toned arms raising at the sight of your eyes gazing back at his, or the warm, tight feeling in his chest he’d only ever felt once before as proper methods of identification. But your shy smile and hitched breathing as he drew near only confirmed it for him.

And before he knew it, his lips oh so close to yours, shining after his tongue had poked out to wet them were asking if you wanted to get out of there.

“Yes.”

Robin would later get more than her fair share of making up for his total abandonment of her without so much as a goodbye, but in that moment he couldn’t think of anything else but you.

How he could taste the bitterness of your perfume on your skin when he kissed your bare shoulder, how you sounded when he sucked on the skin under your ear and the vibrations you made together when he swallowed your moans, how you squeezed his hand that held yours beside your head laying on the pillow that wouldn’t be rid of your scent for a week after, and how you kissed him deeply after the seventh time he’d asked if you were still okay, if you still wanted this as much as he did.

When you left him, asleep with kissed lips parted in soft snores and hair mussed, the marks he’d left on your neck and thighs would serve you as a sweet reminder. The scent of sandalwood and vanilla followed you as you snuck back into your house through the back door, the quiet creak masked by the singing cicadas. Your uncle exactly where you'd left him, still sleeping off the extra spoonful of valerian extract and dried chamomile you’d steeped with his tea to buy yourself a little more time out there.

Where magic was forbidden. Where children threw cruel comments and the adults they’d overheard them from ushered them across the other side of the street. Out there where people would never be understanding of you, and boys who could trick you into giving up your power ran rampant.

You’d thought – hoped, dreamed – that maybe on your eighteenth birthday you could get a kiss. A moment of normalcy outside of your life stuck in this house but what you got was so much better.

What you got was imprinted on your skin with the lingering feeling of his lips.

***

1993

The third time you meet Steve, you breathe in your first taste of free air.

Steve had volunteered to take a ride with the EMT to transport a body to the morgue, on an otherwise slow shift at the firehouse. The only other one in town had called in sick and the nearest hospital was a town over.

When the bus turned down Maple Street, Steve immediately felt off. A sense of dread washed over him and only increased when the car continued off the main street and down the dirt road that led to the Ravenwood house. As the vehicle kicked up stones and a cloud of dust in its wake he’d been hit with a sudden wave of déjà vu, remembering dreams that felt as real as memories of walking up this path only to find himself back at the start over and over again.

When the bus finally came to a stop in the driveway Steve barrelled out, running up to the front door in a panic, his raised fist ready to knock it down before it abruptly opened. Exhaling quickly at the site of you, the sinking feeling in his stomach alleviated as he took you in for the first time in years.

You’re dressed for mourning. A soft black dress and scuffed boots, hair pulled back to reveal a bare face that Steve had the sudden urge to kiss.

“H-Hi.” He managed to stammer out a greeting as his colleague finally caught up to him, walking up the creaking steps to your front porch.

“He’s in the bedroom.” You held open the front door, moving aside to let them in. Voice small, smelling of lemon, cedarwood and white musk and Steve had to physically keep himself moving as he brushed past you.

Your uncle laid stiff on a double bed, on top of the covers and dressed in a tattered corduroy suit as if ready for viewing, his body now an empty vessel left only for a ceremonial send-off. A white handkerchief covered his face, a small bundle of dried cypress and sweet cicely perched on his forehead. A breeze from the open window across the room swayed the hem of your skirt as you stared at him.

Steve pointed to the handkerchief, asking you if they could move it but stopped his movements right away when you tensed. His colleague tells you it’ll have to come off during the autopsy and you fold, asking if it can at least go back on afterwards.

“Once we drop him off he’s out of our hands ma’am.”

“I’ll make sure it does,” Steve placates you and you offer him a small nod in thanks. He barely remembers to breathe.

You followed the stretcher out to the bus, a rumbling of thunder catching the two men’s gaze up to the sky when the back doors thud shut. The view was clear when they entered the house, no forecast for rain on this mild summer’s day. Now fat drops began to hit the ground with the rolling in of grey clouds. Steve looked down and noticed a small smile on your face.

You took a deep breath in with eyes softly shut. “I think I’m gonna go for a walk.” You took off down the front path, stopping at the front gate when Steve called after you, asking if you were sure as the rain only intensified.

You just turn and smile at him, waving with a fixed mind. “It’s cleansing.” Only to disappear into the tall grass fields across from your house in a blur of black. Walking away, a free woman.

The front door creaked closed, making Steve’s companion jump.

“Freaky.”

After that day Steve hears of regular sightings of the girl who grew up in that house. Gossip of blooming, bright lavender and bluebells, buzzing bees – life where there once was nothing but rot and death. A fixed white picket fence and carefully laid stone-path that led up to a now bright and welcoming looking house at the end of Maple Street. But this was still a small town and generational rumours took more than a fresh coat of paint to cover up. The witch who lived at the old Ravenwood house was still feared among small minds.

***

The fourth time Steve Harrington saw you he was dropping Robin’s overdue books off at the library on his way to work. Navy blue t-shirt hugging his biceps, tucked neatly into his uniform pants, the stomp of his steel-capped boots muffled by the scratchy charcoal carpet.

Robin had sent him in the hopes that he could get her late fees waived. He’d spritzed an extra spray of his cologne on before leaving their shared apartment, Harrington charm plastered on his face as he prepared to win over an elderly lady who was reminded of her husband when they first met. Only, the person behind the counter wasn’t wearing a blouse with a frilly collar or sporting a purple rinse quaff.

The person who greeted Steve was wearing a well-loved PJ Harvey shirt, with long braids running down her back, flashing a timid smile that ripped through his chest.

“Hi, Steve.”

End note: If you want dedicatedly researched, heart-wrenching witch core you should go read @storiesbyrhi's Eddie fic Burning Yarrow. I'd also recommend @rosewaterandivy's S.H. x witch!reader story, which is just blow me down gorgeous. Their words probably inspired the dream that inspired this story ✨

Thank you for reading! x

Steve edit by @/vasguett on pinterest

#steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things au #firefighter!steve harrington #witch!reader #she writes