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doobea · 4 months

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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.

#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

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hannieehaee · 6 months

Text

OVER MY HEAD

18+ / mdi

summary: moving out of state for college was a terrifying experience for most people. fortunately for you, you had your older brother wonwoo to guide you while there, and even better, his best friend mingyu.

content: brother'sbestfriend!mingyu, fratboy!mingyu, pining, friends to lovers, angst (only a little), reader's a chronic overthinker, slow burn, smut, f reader, oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, wonwoo's kinda absent </3, crying (blame mingyu), etc.

wc: 15k

a/n: idk how frats work so im sorry for any inaccuracies T-T

cont.

masterlist | kofi/patreon

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Wonwoo was only ten years old when his parents decided he was old enough to venture out into his neighborhood alone, immediately wanting to seek his established group of friends from school to run amok, free of parental supervision. This was not without condition, however, as Wonwoo's swift exit was halted by his mother, a very small you in hand as you stared up at your brother.

Most boys would've groaned at their mother's insistence in including their little sister in their outings. Fortunately for you, your older brother Wonwoo was not like most boys. Being your elder by one year, Wonwoo had easily found a best friend in you, not caring for the looks of annoyance he received when he walked up to his friend's house with you in hand, ready to introduce his little sister to his group of friends. Whether the groans of annoyance ever peeved Wonwoo off or not, he never let it show. He tended to ignore any complaints that came from his friends over the years at the inclusion of a younger girl in every occasion. Despite the childish annoyance his friends had at your presence, Wonwoo didn't seem to care, continuing to indulge you as a friend more-so than just a sister as the both of you grew up. Had your mother not asked Wonwoo to include you that first time, you firmly believe Wonwoo would have still found a way to worm you into his social life. He was your best friend after all.

It went like this for years. Every friend group Wonwoo was a part of, every outing, every landmark in his life, you were always there. It was easy for you to befriend Wonwoo's friends over the years. As you both grew up, friends came and went, leaving you and Wonwoo to be one of the only constants in each other's lives. His friends were your friends, and vice versa. The more you grew up, the less new friends of his complained about your presence, having grown out of the 'girls are gross!' phases of their lives. However, there was always one anomaly. One outlier who never dared boo at your presence. And that was Kim Mingyu.

You had met Mingyu at the young age of 9 years old. That same day your brother first brought you along to meet his friends, with you shyly hiding behind his back as they all groaned at the intrusion of a little girl. ('I'm only one year younger', you had thought to yourself at the time). It was almost a chorus of complains, except for one silent voice. That of Kim Mingyu's. The small boy, aged 10, just like your brother, made it a point to step forward and stretch his hand towards yours, promptly introducing himself as Kim Mingyu, Wonwoo's best friend. At first that didn't sit right with you. What did he mean by Wonwoo's best friend? That was your title! Despite your initial childish annoyance, you didn't let it show. You were just excited to meet your brother's friends, feeling an extra bit of appreciation for the boy who welcomed you with open arms.

You kept meeting routinely after that. You'd begrudgingly attend school, being separated by gender during recess throughout all of elementary school, thus unable to hang out with your brother and his friends. And then you'd arrive home, ready to head out and play around with Wonwoo's crew. You grew together like this. Finally in middle school you were able to join Wonwoo's friends even at school. Despite being used to your presence, this still caused controversy among the boys, not wanting to sour their vibe with the presence of a pre-teen girl (But they were pre-teens too, you had thought). But once again, Mingyu welcomed you with open arms, having by now befriended you, and by then even forming a slight rivalry with you over the title of Wonwoo's best friend.

It went on like this until high school. By now, Wonwoo's various friend groups had dispersed with the passing of time. Some friends came and went, while some branched out to other people. The only constants were Wonwoo, Mingyu and, of course, you. You'd hang out with the tall duo every day, never really bothering to make friends of your own. You were not a loner nor a loser by any means; you did have friends, but you knew where your home was, and that was with your brother and his best friend. This is what made junior year of high school even more devastating for you. What was supposed to be a fun year, attending junior prom and preparing for senior year, was filled with isolation from your two best friends, as they were constantly taken away from you by preparation for university. You had dreaded this day. The day you'd pass from being a junior to a senior, inevitably leading to your brother's graduation and subsequent departure as he left for college.

It hadn't been that bad. Mingyu and Wonwoo had gotten accepted to the same college, urging you to come visit whenever you wanted, and reassuring you that in only one more year you'd be reunited. Senior year proved to be hard. Despite having friend groups to fall back on now that your brother was gone, you still missed the elder's presence. And that of who had now become one of your greatest friends; Kim Mingyu. On the rare occasion that Wonwoo was gone - occasions which increased as his college schedule began to become more and more polluted, - Mingyu was always there for you. The man who never treated you as a nuance, but who thoroughly enjoyed your company as much as he did Wonwoo's. He had come to become a nucleus in your life.

Time went by very fast. After a grueling year of separation, you were finally ready to attend university. Your communication with Wonwoo had died out a bit over the year, but you simply chalked it up to scheduling issues and him dealing with the stress of his new lifestyle. Mingyu had surprisingly remained more constant, always updating you on both his life and that of Wonwoo's. Despite any changes in your dynamic, your plan to reunite was still ongoing. You had applied to the same school Mingyu and Wonwoo ended up at, ecstatic at the acceptance letter you received a few months later. It had been decided, you were now to follow in your brother's footsteps and attend university with him. This was the moment you'd waited for a whole year, and it was now finally here.

Attending university was something that terrified you. You no longer had set schedules or teachers that made everything as straightforward as they once did. You were now expected to do things on your own, like any adult. You were also now living alone. Well, with a roommate. But it felt all the same. You had hoped you'd somehow move into some apartment off campus with your friend and brother, but that hope soon died after Wonwoo hit you with the news that they had both joined a fraternity, meaning their housing was already allotted for.

You hadn't wanted to tell your brother about your fears of college life, not wanting to give him the burden, yet again, of holding your hand as he led a path for you. It was only your first week, you reasoned, you'd get the hang of things soon enough.

With your first week came your second and your third, leaving you worn out at how lonely you felt even now that you were so close to your brother. It seemed like his priorities had changed a bit over the past year. Your usually shy and reserved brother had become well known around school, having joined many clubs and even working around school. While still the good boy you always knew him as, his attention was elsewhere for once; no longer putting his sole focus on you. He was busy, with his mind clearly elsewhere at all times. You had expected him to branch out in college, knowing that was simply the natural course of life, but it still disheartened you a bit, having hoped against reason that you'd always be as close as you were as kids. This had come as a heartbreaking revelation to you. You decided to not let it be known, however, choosing to make the best of the few times your brother would still have time to hang out with you.

Like today. Today was your first frat party. Your initiation, as Mingyu called it. Your brother and friend were excited to introduce you to college life, wanting to be present as you attended your first party, just as precaution. You appreciated their concern, truly, still feeling anxious at the brand new environment.

You found yourself alone after a bit, with Wonwoo being dragged away by some of his fraternity brothers, claiming they needed help doing a beer run. You'd learned recently that Wonwoo had made his presence in the frat well-established, usually tending to frat duties out of his own volition. You didn't see him again after that. Your loneliness didn't last for long, however, as you soon found a familiar shadow behind you. Kim Mingyu.

"Hey, baby. How's the party going? Having fun?", he had taken the habit of calling you baby as of recently, teasing you over what he claimed to be an age difference between the two of you.

"The drinks suck, Wonwoo left, I'm overdressed, and I keep freaking out whenever guys approach me," you listed off, sipping the drink in your hand regardless of its stale taste.

"Guys? Who's 'guys'? No one should be talking to you, you're Wonwoo's sister," he had also taken the habit of being overprotective, specially since your arrival at university, at some point giving you a stern talk about which type of guys you should avoid. You felt it kind of hypocritical, really, seeing as Mingyu was the center of attention for many girls at the party.

"Also, you look beautiful. There's no such thing as overdressed," he was also sweet and thoughtful, you remembered.

"Thank you, Gyu. You should go mingle! Don't feel like you have to babysit me."

"Babysit you? We're best friends, I don't know if you remember? We haven't hung out since you moved into campus! Come on, let me make you a better drink," and with that, he grabbed your hand and pulled you with him to a secluded area of the fraternity's kitchen, pulling out various bottles and making a concoction of who knows what.

"Here. Don't ask what it is, and don't tell your parents I fed you alcohol."

You weren't much of a drinker back home, but upon arriving to college you knew you'd have to be down to drink every now and then, so without thinking too much of it, you sipped Mingyu's drink. But that had been a mistake, as you promptly spit out what you could only assume to be lighter fluid in a red solo cup.

"Mingyu, what the fuck?! Did you just give me fucking gasoline? How can you drink this?"

He chuckled at your reaction, gently dabbing your lips with a napkin to get rid of the remnants of the alcohol you'd spit out.

"Okay, too strong for you. Got it. Sorry, baby. Forgot you're still a little kid."

"One year, Mingyu. Eight months, actually."

"Same difference! Now come on, come dance with me. Don't want your first party to be a waste."

You spent the rest of the night like this, being dragged back and forth by a very excitable Mingyu as he showed you what he believed to be the 'proper way to party' in a frat. You appreciated his company. Immensely. All while you forgot the one person who was missing from this important first-time in your college life.

The next time you saw Mingyu was the very next morning. Upon answering the incessant knocks on your door, you were met with a very soft-looking Mingyu, sporting sweats and with two coffees in hand.

"Hey, baby. Hungover?", he stepped in without a verbal welcome, handing you a coffee in the process.

"No, Mingyu. I didn't even get to finish a drink after you fed me literal gasoline. How are you not hungover, you drank like crazy!"

He shrugged, 'You get used to it. You should ask your brother. He went kinda crazy freshman year. He's chilled out a bit this year. I think he might've been overcompensating back then', he rambled.

"Well, you can ask him for me when you see him," you mumbled sadly, hating the reminder that you'd barely seen your brother since your arrival.

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing, Gyu. Never mind."

"No, tell me. You're my best friend, you're supposed to tell me everything," he nudged you, coming to sit next to you on the couch. He kept calling you that too, since your arrival. You had to admit, you appreciated the swift evolution of your friendship with Mingyu upon your brother's absence as your best friend. But part of you felt as if Mingyu was only doing it out of pity, well aware that Wonwoo had been too busy for you lately.

"Mingyu, you're the only one to still think that. We're not even a friend group anymore. Wonwoo's growing out of it. Clearly. There'll probably come a point where we do too."

He stayed quiet for a beat. Okay, maybe that was too intense for a 9am ice breaker.

"What the hell are you talking about? I'm friends with Wonwoo. I'm friends with you. Is there anything else to it? Anything I missed??"

"Wonwoo and I haven't spoken properly in weeks. You don't have to keep tabs on me for him anymore. I guess this was just the natural course of life."

"Baby, I'm not 'keeping tabs on you.' You're my best friend. How many times do I have to say it? I don't care that you're Wonwoo's sister. I never have. You know that."

He was right. He'd never made a distinction between you and Wonwoo as far as friendship went. You could even argue that you'd grown closer to Mingyu than Wonwoo during the past few years. The thought depressed you, but it also reassured you of your friendship with Mingyu. You had been slightly insecure of your friendship with Mingyu ever since you'd grown closer, seeing how popular and well loved he was, so it was nice to hear reassurance directly from him.

"You know what, fuck Wonwoo! Let's hang out. Just the two of us."

You laughed, knowing he was kidding at the expletive against your brother, but finding yourself agreeing to his proposal.

"Okay. Where are you taking me?"

"Mingyu! Since when do you have a bike?!"

In front of you stood what you could only assume to be your friend's latest impulsive purchase. A black motorcycle you were hoping he did not intend for you to ride.

"C'mon! We used to ride bikes together all the time! This is literally the same thing."

"Bikes? Do you mean bicycles? Yes, Gyu. We rode kiddie bikes, never this!"

"Baby, if you don't get your ass on this bike, I'm gonna pick you up and do it myself."

And with that you found yourself cruising through the city on the back of Mingyu's bike, clutching onto his waist as you felt the wind flow against you.

Arriving was quick. Where you arrived is what you didn't know. You were on a field, far from the general public, on a secluded area hidden by some trees but still with a nice view of the lake in front of you.

"Wonwoo and I hang out here sometimes. No one ever really comes to this part of the park because of how secluded it is. Takes a while by foot, but my bike gets us here pretty quick," he answered your question before you had a chance to verbalize it.

"Hmm. And you brought me here, why?"

"Well," he sat down, patting the patch of grass next to him so you would follow him in his actions, "you seem stressed. Thought maybe you'd wanna vent to me a bit. Like in senior year?"

He was right again. During your lonely final year of high school you had made it a habit of calling up Mingyu whenever your mood soured. You hadn't really stopped to think about how much of a constant presence Mingyu had been to you since your brother began to become more busy.

"It's nothing," you said, laying your head against his shoulder as you both stared at the lake in front of you, enjoying the serenity of the sight.

"Come on. Tell me. I won't tell anyone, pinky promise," he put out his pinky, dragging yours from your lap and intertwining them together.

"It's just .. Wonwoo. I miss him."

"Baby ..." he coo'd at your sad tone, "I know you do. He's just been busy. He loves you, you know that."

"I know, but I haven't really seen him in a while. It's so out of the ordinary for us. Is it the frat? What's keeping him busy, I mean."

"Maybe. Might be school too, his major's pretty hard. I'm not sure, actually. We haven't hung out in a while either."

Oh. So it wasn't just you. That made you feel a bit better.

"It's just. Fuck. It's so dumb. It shouldn't get to me like this. It's just my stupid brother. It's not like we'd be best friends forever," but the more you spoke, the more emotional you got, eventually feeling tears fall form at your eyes at the thought of you and your brother falling away from each other.

"Aigoo. Baby, don't cry. You're too pretty to cry," he wiped your tears with his big thumb, turning to sit even closer to you.

You looked into his eyes, feeling instant comfort from the sweetness in his gaze. You almost fell into a trance, not being able to disconnect your eyes from those of your best friend.

"Listen. How's this? We can just stick together. He can have his space, and when he's ready, we'll both be here, together. How's that sound, pretty? Wanna be my bestie? Promise I won't ever ditch you," he held your hand up again to link with his pinky once more.

He had a way of always comforting you, always putting your feelings above his. Like now. You had just found out his own best friend was icing him out in the same way he did you, yet he was comforting you.

You didn't feel the need for a verbal response, instead unlinking your pinkies and hugging him in return, humming in affirmation as he held you back.

The two of you became even closer after that. You'd join Mingyu at every frat party from then on, occasionally seeing your brother in passing as he was always on his way out, sharing very short moments of interaction with the two of you. Mingyu's constant company helped you reason Wonwoo's absences, taking a page from Mingyu's book and being more understanding.

You'd spent the entire night together, hanging back as you drank and talked, with Mingyu fending off any of his frat brothers who tried to drag him away under the vice of 'fraternity duties.' He seemed to be glued to you, not wanting to leave you alone. Any girls seeking his attention were also quickly sent away by him. You appreciated this, feeling slightly bad at hogging Mingyu's attention all night. But he didn't seem to mind. No matter how insistent you were that he could go mingle, he'd be twice as insistent that he'd rather hang with you.

He'd also visit you almost every other morning, coffee in hand as he walked you to your morning class, even if it meant he'd be late for his own. He had become the biggest presence in your life, swiftly replacing your brother who you hadn't even gotten do see in a few days. You'd spend almost every day together, never tiring of each other's company.

Even now, you were walking towards Mingyu's frat house, seeking his aid in your intro to psych course, knowing that Mingyu had taken that exact same professor his freshman year. He had told you previously that he and Wonwoo had kept a few of their freshman year notes, aware that you'd be joining them this year and would likely take the same basic classes they did when they'd first arrived.

You had known that Wonwoo and Mingyu shared rooms within the frat, but since you had not seen your brother in a few days, you were surprised at finding him upon knocking on Mingyu's door.

"Oh. Hey. What are you doing here?"

"Nice to see you too, Wonwoo," you walked past him and into the room.

"That's not what I meant. I meant I haven't seen you in a while. How have you been?"

"Really, Wonwoo? I've been around."

"Yeah, I've seen you at parties and stuff. Haven't really gotten to talk to you, though. How's school? Anything you need help with?"

If there was anything your brother was, it was dense. He always had the tendency of getting lost in his own head. It didn't help that he'd sometimes fail to pick up on context cues. His innocent face as he asked about your recent whereabouts made it difficult to express any frustration at him, knowing he probably wasn't even well aware that he'd been ghosting you.

"Nothing, Wonwoo," you sighed, "I'm supposed to meet with Gyu today to go over some notes. What about you? Where have you been lately?"

"Oh. Gyu? He's in the shower, he should be back soon," he half-answered your questions. You shot him an expectant look as you waited for him to continue.

"Well?"

"What?", you continued to stare, "Oh. Oh! Sorry. Yeah, maybe I should explain, right?", he paused. "I've been busy. There's not much else to it. The frat, photography club, been thinking of joining an internship. There's too many things. Been talking to a girl too .. I didn't mean to just leave you alone like that, I'm sorry," he continued, but you'd tuned him out a bit. Why was he telling you all of this now?

"-Mingyu told me you'd been having a hard time your first week here, after that party? So I asked him to look out for you while I figured out my scheduling of things. I'm glad to see you two hanging out again, like in high school."

It had been Wonwoo? What about what Mingyu said? About you and him being friends, not needing Wonwoo to join you as best friends. You felt kind of deflated at Wonwoo's confession. You'd already kind of assumed he was busy, simply dealing with school work as the overachiever he had always been. Hearing that Mingyu's presence was a result of Wonwoo's pity was a hit in the gut, though. Were you really just the annoying little sister that needed constant supervision? You were no longer feeling sour at Wonwoo, but rather at the thought of your friendship with Mingyu being disingenuous. It hadn't felt that way when you were together, and you were sure Mingyu must've liked your company to some extent. But thinking about the implications behind Wonwoo's push to get Mingyu to watch over you made you feel small, it made y-

"Y/N? Are you listening?"

Oh. You'd gotten lost in your head and completely tuned out Wonwoo without realizing.

"I'm sorry I hurt you. I want to spend time with you, I really do. I promise I'll do better. I guess I got used to your absence while I was away. Mingyu hounded me over it last week, said you were feeling down about it. I never meant to make you feel like we weren't friends. I'm sorry."

You felt both disappointed and touched. You hated thinking of Mingyu and Wonwoo talking about your feelings behind your back. Well, maybe not behind your back, seeing as Wonwoo had no issue letting you know. It was still embarrassing nonetheless. It was hard not to let all those years of being known as Wonwoo's annoying little sister get to you at times; just a leech that clung to him instead of making friends of her own. You didn't want to believe that Mingyu felt the same way too. But what were you supposed to believe when someone like Mingyu showed so much interest in you? Yeah, sure, it made sense back in middle school when he was still an awkward preteen. Maybe even in high school when he was a bit of a try hard. But in college, where he was member of a frat and nothing short of a heartthrob, it just didn't make sense to you that he'd stick by you out of his own volition. And Wonwoo's words did nothing to help your pre-existing insecurities about it.

But maybe this was all in your head. It was just your best friends looking after you, right? You should've just appreciated the apology and moved on. Which you did, really. But you still couldn't help but wonder.

The rest of your conversation with Wonwoo went as you'd expect. You caught up with each other, just like you would've years ago. It felt nice. Comfortable. It was like falling, knowing there was someone there to catch you. It reminded you of how you'd felt with Mingyu for these past months since your arrival to college. But different. You loved your brother more than anything, but part of you couldn't help but keep the thought of Mingyu in the back of your head even as you were deep in conversation with your brother. Despite having missed him, you now missed Mingyu's presence, even if it was only for a mere moment. Part of you kind of hoped your brother would stay busy so you could keep Mingyu for yourself. You weren't sure what you were feeling. It was just a mixture of emotions jumbling up your stomach.

Your thoughts were then rudely interrupted by the entrance of a very wet Kim Mingyu, your conversation with Wonwoo halting simultaneously. It was like a scene out of a very shitty novel. The steam flowing behind him as he dapped at his hair with a small towel, a bigger one covering his nether region as he entered the room, top half wet and uncovered. This probed no reaction out of Wonwoo. And arguably, no reaction from you, as you immediately looked the other way as if you'd been burned.

"Oh, you're here? Shit, forgot we were supposed to meet an hour earlier, my bad," he responded as if he wasn't standing half naked in front of you. You still made it a point to not look into his eyes, simply squeaking out a short ''s fine' in return.

Wonwoo chuckled at your flustered state, "C'mon, you've seen him in more compromising positions. Remember when he came out of the pool sophomore year with his trousers all the way down? This is nothing. I see worse every day," Mingyu visibly winced at the memory, halting his actions for a second to throw a glare at Wonwoo.

You remembered, but that was pre-pubescent Mingyu!! He did not hold a candle to whoever was standing in front of you in this moment.

"Didn't account for seeing a naked Mingyu today or ever again, thank you! I'll wait outside. You're late, by the way," you bumped Mingyu jokingly before promptly exiting the room, hoping your act had been bought.

You kind of hated the idea of waiting in the common area of a fraternity, not because of the people, but more so the implications of it. Specially knowing your friend and brother would most likely talk about you behind the closed door, but it was either that or be confided in a room with Mingyu as he changed while your brother's presence loomed over you.

You waited in silence, leaning against a wall for a good minute until you were interrupted by a familiar voice.

"Hey! It's you again," it was Yoon Jeonghan, if you weren't mistaken. He was one of the guys you'd spoken to that first time you'd partied in the fraternity, before Mingyu found you and took you under his wing for the night. It was also one of the guys Mingyu had warned you not to speak to (and it had been a long list), citing that he was a 'menace' and he just didn't like the idea of you speaking to him. You'd liked him, though. Despite having only spoken to him for a few minutes that night, he seemed decent enough to hold a conversation with.

"Hi, Jeonghan."

"You remember my name? That's crazy. Must've left an impression on you, huh?"

"Shut up. There's only like twelve of you here, it's not that hard."

"Thirteen," he corrected before continuting, "Oof, you're on first name basis with thirteen guys? What will Mingyu say?", he snickered as he leaned against the wall next to you, shoulder to shoulder, but head facing you.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"C'mon, you're Mingyu's girl. You're off limits. Well, double off limits since you're Wonwoo's sister. If any of us comes near you, we're dead."

You still didn't really understand what he meant. Wonwoo never really cared who you dated. He even encouraged you, as any friend would. He never pulled the 'brother card', nor got in the way if you showed interest in one of his friends (which had happened before, circa the early 2010's when you'd crushed on his bio partner Johnny, but no one needs to know about that disaster). The mention of Mingyu's name made even less sense, seeing as you weren't related in any way. You were interested by the intel Jeonghan was giving you, though, so you decided to play along.

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah, Gyu warned us all to stay away, said something about you being different from other girls at the frat. Was kinda a dick about it, to be honest," he trailed off.

"Then why are you talking to me?"

He snickered again, leaning closer to you, "I like to live on the edge."

That made you laugh, slapping his shoulder as you unintentionally decreased the distance even more. That's unfortunately when Mingyu finally walked through the door, smile fading at the picture of you and Jeonghan standing so close to each other while Jeonghan pulled laughter from you.

He cleared his throat, interrupting your laugh. "What are we laughing at, Jeonghan?", he gave a tight-lipped smile.

"You," he deadpanned. It was silent for a minute, sans your quiet snort at Mingyu's clear annoyance of the guy, "Well, I'm bored now, I'm gonna go. I'm sure I'll see you around," he winked at you as he clicked his tongue at Mingyu and made his exit, leaving behind a clearly peeved off Mingyu.

You both watched him leave before you turned to face your friend.

"Where's Wonwoo?", you broke the silence. It took him a second to reply, still glaring in the direction in which Jeonghan had left.

"Oh. He's got plans today. Shocking, I know. He's killing time til his meeting with the photography club."

"Ah. Okay .. Do you have your things?"

"What things?"

"The notes? That's kinda why I'm here ..."

"Shit, right. Yeah, I do. Sorry, Jeonghan threw me off," he paused, "What, uh, what were you guys talking about?"

"Oh, nothing. He was just keeping me company while we waited," why tell him what you know when Mingyu was seemingly keeping a few things from you himself, you thought.

"Okay, gotcha. Well, I guess we should go," and with that, you walked towards the exit, heading for Mingyu's bike to go to the spot Mingyu and you had been frequenting.

You studied for a while, attempting to stay focused on the notes Mingyu had been explaining to you. But you couldn't help but he distracted by what Wonwoo had told you, and then interrupting those thoughts by thinking of what Jeonghan had said. You wanted to be straight up and ask Mingyu his intentions with you; whether you were a friend or whether he was simply doing your brother a favour by staying by your side. There was no sensible way of doing it, though. At least not without sounding like a wounded little girl.

"Okay," he suddenly looked up from his book, interrupting the silence, "Something's clearly distracting you. Did Jeonghan say something? You can tell me, you know."

"What? No. He didn't say anything. It was .. it was Wonwoo, actually," you trailed off, not really meeting his eyes.

"Wonwoo?", this seemed to get his attention, as he sat up and broke the one sided eye contact he'd been trying to have with you, opting to look to your side instead, "What did he say?"

"It's just .. Mingyu. I need you to be honest with me, okay?"

He gulped, very uncharacteristic to his usually confident demeanor. You weren't sure why.

"Did Wonwoo put you up to this? He made it seem like maybe ... like maybe this was his idea? You asking me to hang out and stuff. Maybe out of, uh, pity?", you mustered out, feeling embarrassed at even vocalizing your insecurities about your relationship with the man sitting across from you.

He sighed in relief, very unlike the reaction you'd expected, "Oh, god. That? Baby, I already told you. Wonwoo has nothing to do with this. I mean, okay, yeah, he suggested I watch out for you, but that was well after I saw you at that party. It was his idea, except it was mine first. He didn't have to force any pity into me, because I wanted to stick to you even before I knew he'd been ghosting you too."

Oh. You had misunderstood. Again. First your brother and now Gyu. You should've known Mingyu was too nice of a guy to lie to your face like you'd assumed. He was also a terrible liar.

He took your silence as a cue to continue. 'I already told you, I won't ditch you, I even pinky promised! I'm your friend. I know we've only ever been friends while Wonwoo was there, but we can be friends without him, can't we? Now stop doubting my friendship! You're starting to make me feel bad', he pouted, scooting closer to you as you both sat on the grass.

You sighed, "You're right, Gyu. I'm sorry. I swear this will be the last time I let my irrational thoughts get the best of me, okay?"

"Good. Now pay attention, I didn't keep last year's homework hidden in my closet for a whole year for you not to use it."

You and Mingyu kept hanging out just like before, now with that cloud of doubt off your mind. Wonwoo would occasionally join you whenever he found time in his busy schedule, fulfilling the promise he had made you that day in his room. But despite that, it was still mostly just you and Mingyu, seeing as you'd grown closer in the past months.

Your relationship grew as the months passed, spending most of your time with one another. Mingyu always made it known through his actions how much he cared about you as a friend, always including you in outings, walking you to class, scaring off any guys who tried to talk to you, escorting you to parties as your date, helping you remove your makeup after a long night of drinking, holding your hand as he walked you home at night, occasionally staying over when tiredness won over the two of you. Just friend things, really. Except you weren't so sure anymore.

With the passing of time also came the evolution of your feelings. There was too much Mingyu in your life, you were beginning to go a little crazy. You hadn't realized how touchy Mingyu was until you had begun hanging out with him without your brother around. You weren't sure if this was normal. You'd never received such affection from any of your brother's other friends, nor did you ever notice Mingyu ever being this touchy with anyone else. Regardless of the reasoning, there was only so much more you could take before breaking. You'd begun to realize that maybe .. maybe this wasn't just a friendship. At least not to you. Maybe this was why you felt so insecure in the beginning, wondering why Mingyu showed interest in you. You were afraid that maybe, without realizing, you'd confused Mingyu's friendship for more, leading you to a fight within yourself about what it meant for you and Mingyu to become the dynamic duo you now were, growing a relationship outside of Wonwoo.

It didn't help that you hadn't met anyone since coming to university. You'd made friends, sure, but most of your time was (willingly) taken up by Mingyu, and maybe on occasion Wonwoo. Any boys who tried to approach you were swiftly warded off by a very tall and intimidating Mingyu. You were kind of well known at that point for being off limits. Lots of guys saw you as unapproachable, either out of respect for your brother, or out of fear of your best friend. You weren't sure why Mingyu had become even more protective than your brother. You had your hopes as to why, but you knew that this was a 10+ year old friendship you couldn't carelessly risk over some unfounded feelings you'd only recently began to discover. There were times you believed he'd hint at some feelings, but Mingyu was a bit of a wildcard. Having known him for so long, you'd seen him through all his relationships, just as he had seen you through yours. You knew how he behaved around someone he was romantically interested in, and you were sad to admit that no matter how affectionate he was towards you, you were not a prime example of it.

So you decided you'd keep your feelings at bay for now. If they were even those type of feelings in the first place. You'd never been in this situation before, neither had you ever liked Mingyu in this way since meeting him over ten years ago, so, once again, you found yourself feeling uncertain of your relationship with your best friend.

Today was yet again another party. This time your brother would finally be in attendance, having finally found some time off of his seemingly grueling schedule. It was Halloween, after all. You remembered all the years you'd spent Halloween with Wonwoo and Mingyu in the past, occasionally even matching costumes with one another. This year you'd decided to go your own ways and surprise each other with your costumes. The plan was for Mingyu to pick you up from your dorm and walk you to the frat (he insisted, citing that it was 'too late for a pretty girl to be walking around alone!'), which is where you'd meet up with Wonwoo. You'd gone in a different direction for your costume this year, opting for a new look. In past years you liked to either match with Wonwoo or dress up as your latest hyperfixation, but since you were now an adult in college (and you didn't need your parents' veto on your costume anymore ..), you went for something a little more provocative. It wasn't too out there, but it was more skin than you were used to showing. Looking at yourself in the mirror, you adjusted your wig a bit, fixing the red headband that held the look together. You thought maybe your dress might've been too short; slightly inaccurate to the original look, but you had to admit, you looked hot as shit! It'd be worth it if this was your slutty debut.

A knock suddenly interrupted your thoughts. And then another. And another. This was how you could usually tell it was Mingyu. The large man had a habit of being really loud without meaning to. You laughed to yourself at the cute habit and headed towards the door, excited to show him your costume and to take a look at his.

You opened the door, opening your mouth to greet him, only to be interrupted immediately by the sight in front of you. A very shirtless Mingyu. Well, a Mingyu in denim jeans and a matching denim vest. You weren't sure what he was supposed to be, but you didn't want to keep looking long enough to figure it out. For your own sanity.

He had been leaning against the door when you'd opened it, looking up as he spoke his first words to you, "Hey, baby. You ready to- Son of a bitch."

"What? You don't like it?", you pouted. Was it too much? He was literally shirtless, looking like a wet dr- okay, best to not finish that thought.

"What? No! You look gorgeous. Are you, uh, is it Betty Boop?"

"Mingyu! Do you not remember?! I showed you this movie! I'm Mima!! From Perfect Blue!", leave it to Mingyu to lose memory of a movie you'd just shown him a few weeks back.

"I'm sorry, baby, I remember. Just distracted by how pretty you look," he said as he smiled down at you, adorable canines in full view. Damn him. He was always showering you in compliments, not knowing their effect on you as of late.

"Shut up .. What are you even supposed to be? Wait, oh my god. Are you Ken?", jesus, what a cliche. You hadn't even connected the dots until now.

"Listen! I thought you'd be Barbie! Every girl wants to be Barbie. I was trying to be a step ahead of you so we could match! How was I supposed to know you were gonna dress as a character from an indie movie?"

"Aw. You wanted to match? You could've said something, Gyu."

The thought of Mingyu ordering a matching set of denim pants and denim vest at the thought of being the Ken to your Barbie made you coo, completely forcing yourself to ignore the shirtless aspect of his costume.

He tsked, still pouting, "Didn't want you to think I was lame ..." he mumbled, "We've also never matched without Wonwoo."

"I wouldn'tve thought that, Gyu. Want me to throw on a pink dress? We could make it work, I-"

"No!", he halted your speech, "Stay like this. You look insanely hot. Gonna have to keep guys off of you all night, but it'll be worth it. C'mon, baby, let's just go now," he said as he offered his arm for you to link yours with.

Keep guys off of you? Hot? He needed to stop saying these things. You were already feeling lightheaded at the thought of spending the entire night being guarded by an overprotective Mingyu, deluding yourself into thinking that it'd be because he wanted you all to himself.

You arrived to the party pretty quick, by now having already corrected three people on your costume on your walk there. Mingyu would laugh next to you every single time, mocking your costume choice and claiming that Barbie would've been a better option, because then you 'could've been such a hot power couple.'

You stuck around each other for most of your stay, only ever straying away from one another whenever Mingyu insisted on going to the kitchen to freshen up your drink, or when various Barbies would stop him to get a picture with him, using their costume as an excuse to get close to Mingyu. It peeved you off a bit, deflating your mood slightly more each time someone interrupted your conversation to drag Mingyu away. But Mingyu was a gentleman and a helpless people pleaser, so he would politely say yes and pose for a bit before moving on, only to eventually be interrupted again. You weren't sure if Mingyu took notice of your frustration, but if he did, he didn't show it. That kind of made you feel worse.

You'd caught up with your brother during Mingyu's short absences, who had just side-eyed you at your costume choice, calling you predictable. He'd dressed as Marty McFly, putting minimal effort into his costume in usual Wonwoo fashion.

"So."

"So?"

"I thought you were supposed to be Mingyu's date?", he asked, as if it was the most obvious thing.

"I am his date. Well, 'date,'" you air quoted, "I'm always his date to your frat's parties, you know that."

He shrugged, "I know, but he seemed excited to do couple's costume with you this year. I thought it was kinda silly, but he even got his costume tailored n everything," he said nonchalantly as he sipped his beer a bit.

"Oh. He didn't really tell me .. It's not like I'm his actual date anyways," and it wasn't like he really needed you when he had so many girls literally lining up for his attention.

"You could be."

"What do you mean?", you were confused by Wonwoo's sudden commentary on this, not even aware that he'd even thought about you and Gyu in that way.

"Just .. I mean, wouldn't be the worst thing in the world."

"Wonwoo, wh-"

"Sorry I took so long! Some other girl wanted a picture and she just wouldn't let me get away. Here, got your favorite," it was Mingyu with his impeccable timing, handing you a drink as he flashed you his classic boyish smile.

"Thank you," you were slightly deflated, wanting to continue your conversation with Wonwoo, and also annoyed at the thought of sharing Mingyu's time with yet another girl. When had you become so dependent on Mingyu's attention? And why was your mood souring so easily at the mere mention of other girls coming from his mouth?

Wonwoo promptly excused himself at the interruption, catching sight of another one of his frat brothers and joining him in whatever he was doing. Gyu bid Wonwoo a quick bye, instantly turning his attention right back to you.

"Having fun?"

"Sure, Gyu. You?"

"Just sure? What's wrong? Want me to get Wonwoo back?"

"No, Mingyu, it's fine. I was thinking about heading home, actually. It's getting kinda late."

"Oh? Okay, let me just let Wonwoo know and I'll go walk you back," he was halfway through turning to go find your brother.

"No, that's fine. You should stay!", you tried to sound as convincing as possible, knowing that sooner or later his attention would be dragged away from you again anyways.

"Stay? What happened to not ditching each other?", he chuckled, "Did you forget the pinky promise?"

You remembered, which is why you wondered why he'd been ditching you all night.

"C'mon, Gyu. Don't you wanna stay with one of the many pretty girls that have been wanting to talk to you all night? I don't wanna cockblock you ..." you felt a little sheepish at even the slight reference to sex, never having really touched the subject with Mingyu in all your years of friendship.

You knew you were being kind of unreasonable. Mingyu hadn't shown any direct interest in any of the girls, and he had clearly wanted to spend the night by your side, but your childish feelings were hurt by all the attention he had been giving other people, feeling like a spoiled little girl who demanded her mom's care at all times.

"You're the only pretty girl I wanna spend my time with," he gave you a sad smile.

He kept doing this. Throwing you a bone but doing nothing else. He'd say things that would have you planning your wedding if it'd been any other guy, constantly feeding you with pet names and endless compliments. Except that's where it always stopped. The only other indication you'd gotten so far about his words having a deeper meaning were the short conversations you had with Jeonghan and Wonwoo. Conversations which were both promptly interrupted by Mingyu, never to be brought up again.

"Gyu, I-"

"Excuse me. Could I get a picture with you? Haven't found any other Ken's around so far," the interruption was unsurprisingly provided by yet another girl in Barbie's classic pink plaid dress, shyly looking at Mingyu as she awaited his response.

You knew Mingyu was popular with girls, but today had kind of felt like a punch in the face.

He looked at her and then back at you. And then back at her and back at you again, clearly fighting the urge to be a gentleman and just do as the girl asked.

You gave them both a tight smile, "I'll see you tomorrow, Gyu," and with that, you began to walk away, feeling bad at the dramatics but knowing that you'd just get your feelings hurt if you saw Mingyu unknowingly flirt with yet another girl.

You didn't get very far, though.

"Hey, wait up!", it was Mingyu. Obviously.

"Gyu, it's fine, you shou-"

"I told you I wouldn't ditch you. Maybe you forgot about it, but I didn't. And this goes both ways. Okay. baby? Now let's go," he grabbed your hand and led you away, leaving behind a disgruntled Barbie who had just wanted a chance to talk to the pretty Ken.

You walked in silence most of the way home, not being really in the mood to say anything. Nor knowing what to say, kind of embarrassed by your futile attempts to ditch Mingyu, proving yourself to be kind of a hypocrite.

Before you realized, you were standing in front of your dorm. You turned around to give Mingyu a quick goodbye, not expecting much from him considering his silence during the walk home.

And then he hugged you. He held you close as he leaned down to your height and nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, humming at the closeness between you. You held your arms out around him, not really hugging back at first due to the shock of the sudden action, but then proceeding to rib your arms up and down his back soothingly.

"Gyu ..."

"I'm sorry."

"What? Why are you sorry? I'm sorry," he unglued his head from your neck, now staring down at you with sad features on his face, arms still around your waist.

"You have nothing to be sorry about. I'm sorry I ditched you tonight. I didn't mean to. I guess it's hard for me to ignore all the attention sometimes. I made a promise but I kept breaking it tonight. Didn't mean to make you feel like I wasn't paying attention."

"No, Gyu. I'm just being sensitive, it's fine, really! You can be with other people, you shouldn't feel badly about it just because I'm acting like a child," you felt embarrassed admitting it out loud, but it was true, "I guess I got used to having Wonwoo's undivided attention growing up that I became a bit of a brat about it, hah ..."

"Baby, please stop talking about yourself like that before I get mad," he said, half joking, half serious. "I still made you upset, regardless of anything. I saw your face while you watched me be dragged away time after time, and I didn't like what I saw. I'm sorry. I won't ditch you again, I promise. I double promise. I'll be mean about it if I have to, okay?"

You chuckled at that. You couldn't possibly imagine a world where Mingyu would ever be mean. He was the nicest boy you'd ever known.

His reestablishment of the promise made you a bit sad. Knowing you were still stuck at a catch 22; break your friendship if you confessed, or live with Mingyu as close as possible without ever being able to actually have him. But you'd take whatever you could get, wanting Mingyu in your life no matter what.

He'd once again kept his promise. Somehow, by some act of god, becoming even more attentive to you. It made you happy and sad. You were practically in a relationship with Mingyu at this point, except he was the only one who didn't know about it. His frat brothers would joke about it, mocking you by calling you 'baby' whenever Mingyu wasn't around to make fun of the nickname that by now seemed to be your legal name. Even Wonwoo would give you looks whenever he saw the way in which Mingyu would physically stick to you through the night every time you hung out around him.

Mingyu had also made it a point to not entertain any girl - at least while you were around. Any time a girl would come up to him, he'd hold a short interaction and call it a day, instantly turning back around to you. It was funny, really, the way in which they'd give you a dirty look behind his back before promptly accepting their fate and walking away.

At this point your life had become a blur of school, parties, and Mingyu. Every other week you'd be in attendance to a party - or sometimes simply a small gathering between close friends - at Wonwoo and Mingyu's frat. During other days of the week you'd still find yourself there due to assignments you needed help with, or simply to see your brother. More often than not, however, you'd find yourself there to see Mingyu. You were enjoying college life thus far, having forgotten all your worries from your initial arrival a few months back. Mingyu's constant presence (plus yours and Wonwoo's reconciliation) had taken away any of the fears you'd had. Once more, you had befriended Wonwoo's friends, always feeling welcome at the frat and even hanging out with a few members while on your way to and from class.

Now, you were once again at the frat, waiting for Mingyu to get home from class. Jeonghan and Seungcheol put it upon themselves to entertain you until his arrival, teasing you over being Mingyu's unofficial girlfriend as they usually did. You never took it seriously. I mean, yeah you were still in the same place with Mingyu (re: hopelessly in love), and your feelings had only gotten worse with the passing of time, but you also knew what boys were like, having been subjected to their company since you were a little kid.

"Hey babyyy. Looking for Mingyu?"

"Jeonghan, stop fucking calling me that."

He gasps, you roll your eyes, "Is that not your name??"

"Anyways, is he not back yet? Need him back so we can prep the drinks for tonight," now was Cheol's turn to speak.

"He should be back from class already. He told me to just get ready here."

"Here? You're not even allowed here!", you knew Jeonghan was kidding, but it was kinda true. It was an unspoken rule in the frat that the boys couldn't have girls overnight. It was originally set up to prevent partygoers who didn't live there from taking their rooms for hookups. Even as Wonwoo's sister, you weren't an exception.

"I'm not staying. Just for the party. Anyways, I'm just gonna go look for him, I know when his class is. Cheol, please keep him away from me next time I'm here. Bye!"

They both chuckled, bidding their goodbyes and see you laters to you as you headed to the door, still feeling a bit awkward at being the only girl hanging around at the frat before the usual weekly party began; even if you were close friends with the guys. Over time you'd noticed how some of the girls you'd frequently see at the parties would look at you, knowing they probably had less than favorable opinions about you. It's not like you were keeping the pretty frat boys away from them, you were just used to this lifestyle, you always stuck by your brother and his various friend groups through the years, and this was not the exception.

Many even seemed to assume you were dating Mingyu, which you did not blame them for, considering how much time you spent together. A grand majority of them would act bitchy towards you, flirting with him right in front of you even under the belief that he was taken. Mingyu would usually subtly shut them down and lead them away somehow. You were afraid for the moment in which he snapped out of his seemingly self-imposed celibacy and drop you for some girl. You knew it would come eventually, but you still had some unfounded hope that maybe that girl would be you.

After having waited for Mingyu at the frat to no avail, you had decided to go search for him at his classroom, thinking he might've stayed a little extra time for some reason. Except you didn't find him there either. You eventually decided to text him, only to get no response. This was quite out of character of him, with him being the one to usually seek you out through text. Calls were also left unanswered, making you think that maybe an emergency came up or that he might've forgotten he had asked you to meet. This was also very uncharacteristic of him. You decided to, for once, not let your thoughts run amok and simply let it go. You had already pushed your insecurities onto Mingyu enough times. Instead, you headed home, head down at the thought of Mingyu forgetting about your meeting, but still planning to get ready to go see him at the party.

Your apparel was nothing too out of the ordinary. You had started dressing a little more maturely after that first attempt at the Halloween party, having enjoyed the reaction your costume had gotten out of Mingyu. Ever since then, you had begun to introduce shorter skirts and lower cut tops into your attire, although still keeping your general style and aesthetic pretty much the same. You felt kind of silly dressing up more just because of Mingyu's reaction that one time, but you could've sworn that he'd become even more protective since you started dressing like that, which you was something you shamelessly enjoyed.

With that, you left your dorm, wanting to catch up with Mingyu after having not seen him all day, something that was extremely out of the ordinary for the two of you. He had been very adamant about you not ditching each other, after all.

You arrived promptly to the party, which had already started and was buzzing as per usual. You walked by a few friends from class, making sure to stop by and say hi to them, along with to a few members of the frat. The one person you hadn't seen thus far had been Mingyu. You even found your brother hanging out with his frat brothers Vernon and Seungkwan, hanging back while they prepared a table for some beer pong. They'd invited you to join in, but you felt uneasy at Mingyu's absence, so you declined and kept walking, hoping to find him. You eventually bumped into Seungcheol. He had mentioned that he needed Mingyu to help him restock drinks before the party, so you asked him if he knew about his whereabouts.

"Oh, yeah. He came back a little after you left. He helped me out but said he had to leave right away. Had to meet with someone or something."

Oh. So had it been just you then?

"Do you know who?"

"Hmm, no, he didn't say. He got a call before he left. It sounded like a girl ..." he shot you an awkward smile at the mention of a girl.

Jesus, did everyone know you had a crush on Mingyu?

"Okay, thanks Cheol. I'll see you later," and with a quick side-hug you left, attempting once more to find your friend.

Was he ignoring your calls? Clearly he had his phone if he picked up someone else's call. Why hadn't he let you know he couldn't meet up anymore? Why'd he even let you come to a party you'd agreed to attend together if he was gonna ditch you? Why was he meeting up with another girl if he was supposed to be your date tonight? This was very unlike him, but it still hurt nonetheless.

You decided to walk the place, still looking for him but also pondering about maybe going home. You knew your feelings shouldn't be hurt over this, but to be fair, Mingyu had unintentionally conditioned you to expect his presence. And knowing that he was blatantly ignoring any form of contact you'd tried to make with him made you feel like a idiot. So you left. The frat was still on campus, so walking yourself to your dorm wouldn't take too long, even if you were used to rides from Mingyu's bike or the occasional piggy back ride he'd give you when you grew too tired of the walk.

You were on one of the top floors when you made your decision to leave, having walked the entire place in search of Mingyu. It made you feel like an idiot now, dressing up for him and chasing after him all day all while he was just carelessly ignoring you. You walked the way back, passing by each of the frat member's designated rooms. Even by Mingyu's too.

Mingyu's timing had always proved to be really inopportune. He'd constantly walk in when you were in the middle of conversation, or knock on your door before you were finished getting ready. Today, however, he had taken the cake.

Just as you were about to walk by his and Wonwoo's room came out a distracted Mingyu, clearly the middle of conversation with whoever was also on their way to exit the room. One moment later you saw who it was. She looked familiar, you thought. Might've been one of the many girls who'd competed for Mingyu's attention at these parties. It didn't really matter to you at that moment. She was walking out of Mingyu's room with him. Girls weren't supposed to be allowed in their rooms after a certain time. Was she the exception to the rule? You watched as she and Mingyu held friendly conversation, with her giving him a kiss on the cheek and a smile as she made her exit. Gyu didn't seem fazed by this. Almost as if it were a daily occurrence. Was it a daily occurrence? Had you just been an idiot chasing after him, hoping he'd maybe look at you differently one of these days?

You felt your emotions take over you. The mere sight of a girl coming out of Mingyu's room late into the night, at an area where partygoers weren't allowed, made your vision blurry with tears. All unfounded hopes you'd had about a future between you and Mingyu were immediately crushed. He didn't like you back. You knew it already, but the confirmation was just a punch in the face. He had been ignoring your calls all day in favour of a girl. One of the many girls he reassured you meant nothing to him, because he'd wanted to give all his attention to you, his best friend.

You could've sworn you stood there watching the short interaction for hours. Time had frozen for you. But not for anyone else. And surely not for Mingyu, who turned around and immediately spotted you after having bid his goodbye to the girl. Your emotions must've been clear on your face, since Mingyu's previous wolfish smile suddenly dropped into a look of worry. It seemed like time had now frozen for him, as his movements halted and his reaction left him.

There was a distance between you, and to find the exit you'd have to pass by Mingyu in order to leave. You took advantage of his shock at your unexpected presence and walked past him, walking as fast as you could in order to not make a scene. Except you didn't get far.

"W-wait!", he managed to grab your arm before you left, softly tugging you in order to stop your movements, but it was futile. Your movements may have stopped but you refused to meet his eye, instead opting for looking down at your feet as you sniffled, feeling embarrassed at how easily you'd started crying.

"Baby, look at me," but you still refused, "Whatever it is that you're thinking didn't happen."

But you didn't respond, frog in your throat and unable to speak, knowing you'd start crying if you did.

"I-it's not what you think, please, I-"

"If you wanted time to .. if you wanted to be alone with .. her, you could've told me," you finally replied, sniffling and gasping all throughout.

"I didn't! I wanted to be with you!"

"I called you and called you and got no response. You didn't show up either. You- God, I don't ... I don't even know why I'm crying,' you took a shaky breath, 'We're not ... It's not like you and I-"

"Don't say that. I'd never even look at another girl like that ... It's just you and me, you know that."

"Mingyu ..." you continued to look down, not wanting to look at him and trigger even more crying.

"Let me explain, okay? But look at me, yeah? Can't stand you not looking at me, baby," he grabbed your chin, urging you to look up, directing your face towards his in order to look down directly into your eyes, "That's it, pretty. Now don't cry. Hate it when you cry."

"I don't know her very well," he begun, "We partnered up for class today and accidentally switched phones. I didn't realize until I was on my way to see you, which is when she called her own phone and asked me to meet. We kept missing each other, so I told her to meet me here so I could give her her phone back. I'd left it charging in my room before helping Cheol. You weren't here when I came back, so I thought I'd just see you later and explain. I didn't mean for you to see that .. There was- there was nothing. Nothing happened, okay, baby? Nothing."

"But the kiss ...?"

"Girls just do that sometimes, baby, I'm sorry. I'll wipe my cheek clean if you want me to, yeah?", he smiled down at you, wiping at your tears.

You felt even like an even bigger idiot now. An innocent interaction and you were pulling all the dramatics, sobbing into the arms of the boy you so desperately wanted. The thought made you even more emotional. How could you ever exist around Mingyu like this?

You unstuck yourself from his hold, feeling sick at yourself, "Gyu, I ..." you cut yourself off with a pathetic gasp, sniffling to prevent snot from falling from your nose.

He quickly held onto you again, "Hmm. Yeah, pretty? Tell me. Still gonna cry over me? You have nothing to cry about, baby, I told you. I'm right here. Never leaving, like I promised. Remember?"

The way he smiled down at you was one you'd never seen from him before. You were beyond embarrassed, but he continued to soothe you, giving you words of affirmation coated with a deeper meaning.

"Mingyu ..?"

You weren't sure what you wanted to say, still sniffling, although a bit more calm due to the comfort the boy gave you.

"What is it, baby? Want me to say it first? I will. I'll tell you. I'll show you. Just .. just wanna savour the moment for a little longer. Is that bad? Love how you worry about me. Just wanna .. wanna enjoy it," he continued to stare into your eyes, hand on your chin, lifting your face closer to his.

There was something unspoken about the way he was speaking to you; the words he was saying. Almost like a confession but not quite. The gap between friends and a little more; not quite lovers.

Both your eyes became lazy, lowering to each other's lips, breaths becoming heavier as Mingyu began to close the distance. It all felt so heavy, and so slow, like a pin could drop and you'd be alarmed by the noise. All your senses were preparing you for a tidal wave. Until it finally came.

"Love you. So much. So fucking much, pretty. You have no idea. Would never hurt you, ever", and with that, he pressed his lips to yours, humming quietly against your mouth. He pulled away soon after. Too soon for your comfort.

"l-love you, Gyu, I ..."

It felt like a huge weight off your shoulders, finally being able to say the three words, albeit mumbled against his lips.

"Loved you always," he interrupted, "Been in love with you ever since I can remember. My pretty girl. You were always meant to be mine. Always wanted to keep you safe, take care of you. Was just waiting for you ..." he said all this as he breathed into your mouth, breath getting heavier by the minute, your mind becoming foggy as you let yourself lean against him.

"Will you let me show you? Show you how bad I love you?"

You nodded desperately, whispering 'Yes' into his lips as he closed the gap again, kissing you with far more strength than the first time.

This was the kiss to beat all kisses. The way he planted his palms on your back, allowing you to lean pliant against his hold. The way he tilted his head slightly to the side to kiss you deeper. The way he sighed against your lips, as if he was finally able to breathe. The way his tongue eased your mouth open, dancing with your own in perfect coordination. The way he hummed against you, close to moaning in pleasure but holding back as a friend would.

The kiss was agony, or at least that's what any spectator would think, if they were to see the way both you and Mingyu furrow your eyebrows as if this was your very last breath and you needed to savior it with everything in you. He held you against him with gentle hands, while yours grabbed onto him as if he was your lifeline, yet you were both equally desperate while kissing one another. The buildup of your feelings took over, increasing the intensity of the kiss immediately. At some point you were both too out of breath, but unable to pull away, simply breathing against each other as you attempted to keep your lips glued.

He finally pulled away, breath heavy as he tried to bring himself back to earth.

"Baby .. Let me .. Let me take you to my room? Is it too soon? Just- Been waiting so long. Love you so much. Wanna show you. Can I?", he gently ran his hands up and down your back as he rambled, eyes crazy as they alternated between your lips and your eyes, unable to focus.

You hesitated. You weren't sure why. You'd wanted him so badly for so long, but now it felt way too real. Your desire for him had you so dizzy you could not think, rendering you a shell of yourself as your heavy gaze stared back at him, no thoughts in mind. Your mind a constant loop of Mingyu Mingyu Mingyu.

"I-It's okay, baby. I don't, don't wanna pressure you ..." he seemed flustered by your lack of answer.

Shit.

No. It'd been enough times of you making him do all the work. So instead of responding, you leaned up and pulled his head back down to your level, kissing him with all your might. You used all the strength you could muster and pushed him against the wall. He let out a surprised noise, but let his body become pliant to your touches, allowing you to press him to the wall and simply following along, seemingly content with whatever you gave him.

You kissed for a bit more, airing out all your emotions against each other's lips. The kiss had quickly become nasty and wet, almost in an animalistic way. Mingyu had also begun to become more daring with his touches, lowering his arms to the small of your waist, pressing your body up against his, letting you feel all of him.

You grew frustrated soon after, or maybe he did, you weren't too sure. But it was only a few moments later that you ended up crashing through his bedroom door, Mingyu quickly locking it behind you without daring to unlock your lips. This time he pushed you against the wall, caging you in with his large body. He pressed himself up against you as close as physically possible, beginning to drag his pelvis against yours. The feeling of his hardness grinding against you made all the air leave your head, rendering you breathless.

"G-gyu ..." you gasped against his mouth, hands going crazy as they scratched against his clothed chest and shoulders.

"I know, baby. So pretty. Just let me take care of you, yeah?", he lifted your arms from his chest, pinning them above you as he ground his hips with even more fervor, making you whine against his lips at the pressure against your crotch.

He ground against you like this for a while, enjoying the mewls of pleasure you let out against his lips. He took advantage of your open mouth against his lips to slip his tongue inside once more, licking into your mouth as he ground against you. Eventually he took control of the kiss, letting go one of your hands and angling your head so he could lick deeper into your mouth. Your eyes rolled back, both at the way he so expertly played with your tongue and at the slow pace he had while grinding what you could only assume to be a massive length hidden under his pants.

"Gyu ..." his name seemed to be the only word you were able to utter in your mindless state, "More. Please, want more ..."

"Anything you want, pretty," he reluctantly unglued himself from you, gently holding your hand to guide you to his bed before sitting you down at the edge of it.

"Wait."

"Hmm? What's wrong, baby?"

"I, uh, I thought you weren't allowed girls in here at this time ..." even in your dazy state, you remembered the rules of the frat, fearing that an annoyed Seungcheol or Seungkwan might come interrupt you and force you out.

"Shh, don't mind that. Won't let anyone take you away from me, yeah baby? Will even kick Wonwoo out for the night. It's just you and me, okay?", he leaned down to peck your lips, caressing your cheeks with his thumbs.

"You'll let me take care of you now, right baby? Gonna let me show you how much I love you?", he leaned you back on the bed as he said this, climbing over you in order to pin you down.

Your breath began to get heavy again, nodding numbly at his questions as you let your body become weightless; allowing him to do with it as he pleased.

You'd assumed he'd be gentle, - in a similar fashion to his words - but the moment your lips connected once again it was like someone else took over. Some animalistic sense within possessed him as he, for lack of a better word, devoured you. His hips were merciless as he began to rut them against yours once more. His lips trapped yours, taking full control of the kiss. His hands finally found the courage to explore your body, running his hands up and down your legs, taking advantage of the way your short skirt had ridden up. He moaned against your lips at the feeling of your pretty form under his, cursing under his breath when you decided to guide his hands to your breasts, desperate to feel his touch in more sensitive areas of your body.

He untangled his tongue from yours momentarily, looking into your eyes. He furrowed his brows while looking down at you, then lowering his eyes look at your clothed tits, which were currently being held hostage by his large palms.

"Baby ... Can I?"

You bit your lip and nodded up at him.

That was all confirmation he needed before literally ripping your dress off your body. The dress itself might've actually torn in the process, you weren't sure. That didn't matter as soon as Mingyu finally took a look at your naked form, having expertly removed your bra as soon as he'd removed your dress. He let out a groan deep from his chest, physically salivating at your bare chest, hips only covered by a very thin pair of panties, now finally being able to see the entirety of your bare body under his hands.

"Baby ... So fucking beautiful, Jesus Christ. Been hiding this pretty body from me, haven't you?"

"Been dreaming about you for so long, fuck. So beautiful .."

"Look at you, so soft and pretty. And all for me, right baby? Gonna let me play with this pretty body, huh?"

"Wanna remember this. Fuck, can't stop looking at you. Wanna feel all of you. Wanna memorize your body."

In usual Mingyu fashion, his endless praise to you manifested itself even in this scenario, affecting you more than ever. His praise was accompanied by his fondling of your body, running his hands over every curve in your body, occasionally stopping to rub at your nipples as you arched your back at the delicious stimulation.

You could tell he loved the effect he had on you, as he dragged on and on, pulling cries and mewls out of you as he felt you up. Eventually he seemed to grow too desperate for more, getting on his knees at the foot of the bed and dragging your body towards him by your thighs, treating you like a weightless rag doll.

He kissed up and down your thighs, looking up at you through his lashes, meeting your heavy gaze as you waited for him to near the place where you needed him most. He eventually dragged down your panties, slow in his movements as he held them up to his face, breathing in your scent. You gasped at this, having never seen anyone do such a depraved act.

"Gyu ..."

"God, fuck. Even smell so good. Gonna taste so delicious, aren't you baby?"

"Please, Gyu, just .. Ah! Fuck!"

He dove right in, immediately licking and sucking at you, not wanting to waste a single drop. It was animalistic, the way he ate at you. He groaned and moaned against your cunt, forcing you as close as possible to him by holding onto your hips, encouraging you to grind against his face, practically riding his face.

"Just like that, baby. Drag that pretty pussy on my tongue. Gunna eat you up, pretty. Such a tasty pussy, shit."

It didn't take long for him to make you cum. All the months waiting for him, the merciless way in which he had you against the wall dragging his length against you, the way he undressed and caressed you (re: felt you up), the way he praised you all throughout. It all piled up inside you and made you reach the most mind-numbing orgasm you'd ever felt. You felt tears streaming down your face as you screamed his name, instantly falling on your back against the bed all while Mingyu continued to lick at you even in your sensitive state. But you couldn't bring yourself to stop him, growing drunk at the pleasurable pain you felt as be lightly caressed your clit with his tongue.

"Not done, baby. Wan' you again. Be good, yeah? Lemme have you again," his adorable lisp had become even more prominent, leaving him almost slurring through his speech likely due to the pussydrunkness he was feeling.

He promptly flipped you around, placing you on your hands and knees above the bed. He knelt behind you, once more feeling up and down your body, kneading at your ass as you arched your back. You'd expected him to finally fuck you, only to feel his tongue right back on your cunt.

You arched your back even more, mewling out his name once again as he licked at your clit, teasing it by lightly nibbling at it. Everything he did had you crying, delirious on the pleasure he was giving you. The moans of his own pleasure didn't help, nor did the sound of the bed squeaking as he ground his dick against it for relief.

This time you didn't meet your end, instead being flipped around once more and facing the man of your dreams. His face was dripping with your juices, hair a mess from all the pulling you'd done. You'd never seen a more beautiful sight. You reached up to him, feeling up and down his chest before pulling him down to you, smashing your lips to him as you desperately licked into his mouth. You tasted yourself on him, making him moan at the desperate speed of your tongue.

"Taste so good, don't you baby? Fuck, gonna eat you every day now. You're all for me," he groaned against your lips, lifting himself up a bit to finally remove his clothes.

You practically salivated at the sight. You'd seen him naked before, on a few accidental occasions. But seeing him now, sweaty from all the exertion and so close to you, gigantic chest and arms on full display .. It made you breathless. You felt him up, running your hands up and down his chest, wanting to commit it all to memory. He chuckled at your reaction, mumbling a small 'cute' before getting back to business.

Nothing could've prepared you for the moment he finally entered you. The stretch was like no other pleasure you'd ever felt before. It seemed to be the same case for him, as his voice grew in pitch the moment you first tightened up around him.

"Fuck! Baby, don't do that ... Wanna last, fuck."

"Gyu, you're so fucking big. Shit ..."

"Yeah, baby? Gonna split you open. Gonna mold your pussy so you can take me every day. Want that, don't you baby? Wanna keep me warm every morning?"

His words had you once again tightening, causing him the force behind his thrusts to increase, leading to a vicious cycle of pleasuring one another.

The way he moved his hips against you was purely animalistic. The drag of his hips made you fully delirious, his speed superhuman and the strength just enough to have you feeling pleasurable type of pain. He knew what he was doing, angling himself at that spot that had you crying into his neck.

"Right there! Fuck, Gyu, please! There .. There!"

He made it a point to angle himself even deeper, making you feel the delicious drag of his length in the spot where you needed him most. Sensing your orgasm nearing caused Mingyu to bring his thumb down to your swollen clit, rubbing it softly, at a such a slow speed that had you writhing against him, breathlessly whining for more.

He pulled at all stops to drag the most intense orgasm out of you. He repeatedly canted his hips against yours, hitting your g spot continuously. He played with your clit and even leaned down to lick at your tits, stimulating you from every sensitive part of your body in order to drag yet another orgasm out of you.

Your orgasm came soon after, triggering his in return. You screamed out his name, dragging your nails down his back while he fucked you through your high, whispering filthy expletives about how good you felt against your ear. He pulled out before spilling his seed inside you, choosing instead to cum all over your stomach, groaning at the filthy image of you coated in his cum.

You fell limp after that, losing all air in your head and being rendered breathless. You're not sure how long you laid there for, no thought in mind, seeing as the next time you opened your eyes you had already been cleaned up and placed under the sheets. From your spot on the bed you could see a very naked Mingyu walk towards you before slipping under the covers with you, instantly seeking your touch as he held you in his arms.

He spoke up first, "Sorry if that was too much .. Wanted to make love to you, but I guess I got over excited," he chuckled.

"It was perfect, Gyu. You were so sweet, like you always are," you kissed his chest as you said this, all while he gently ran his hands up and down your back, "Love you, Gyu. Sorry I didn't say it properly earlier."

"Love you more."

"You don't have to be competitive about it! But that's not true, by the way," you'd been going insane at your feelings for him for these past new months, there was no way he could win this one.

"Are you sure about that?", he snickered, as if he had some intel you didn't.

"What are you even talking about, Gyu?"

"I've loved you for longer, that's all I'm saying," he started leaving soft pecks on your chest, giggling at his own words.

"Nuh huh!"

"Yuh huh! I've liked you since senior year! You didn't even look my way at the time."

'Senior year? We barely saw each other that year. You and Wonwoo kept leaving me for senior stuff.'

"You know what they say. Distance makes the heart grow fonder. Something like that. Anyways, I've held a candle for you for years. You made me wait all these years. I love you more."

"Wait. You liked me all this time?!", you sat up despite his whine in complaint, "Why didn't you say anything?"

"Baby, I already told you. You didn't like me back. We'd never been around each other without Wonwoo by then. Didn't wanna fuck up our friendship, or make Wonwoo uncomfortable. Now get back here," he dragged you back down to his chest.

"But ..."

"Shhh, it doesn't matter anymore. I waited and now you're mine."

You didn't speak much after that, allowing yourselves to bask in each other's company, holding each other to sleep like you'd always wanted to do. You wanted to ponder on what Mingyu had said; that he'd liked you this whole time. You wanted to think back to moments that could've revealed Mingyu's feelings to you, but Mingyu was right. It didn't matter anymore, because you were now finally his.

You woke up the next morning to loud knocks, startling you from your comfortable slumber. By now, you and Mingyu were a tangled mess of limbs, with no space separating your bodies. You felt warmth and comfort you had never felt before, being pressed up, skin-to-skin.

The knocks hadn't awoken Mingyu, who you'd always known to be a heavy sleeper. You were only half awake yourself, so in your senseless sleepy state, you decided to untangle yourself from Mingyu and go check the door. You threw on Mingyu's button up from last night along with some boxers and headed to the door, only opening it a tiny bit to peek at who was knocking.

In retrospect, you should've known who you'd find on the other side of it, seeing as he did live here. But fortunately, even in your sleepy state you were dressed enough to not traumatize either of you.

"Wow. You're so predictable," it was your brother, wearing the same clothes you'd seen him in last night, taking notice of your current state.

"If you knew I was here, why come?"

"Wanted to confirm. Also, you kept me out all night. Didn't wanna risk unlocking the door and finding something that'd scar me for life."

"Wait. How'd you even know I'd be in here with Mingyu?", you had never mentioned your feelings to your brother. He had alluded to something between you and Mingyu once, but since it was never brought up again, so you assumed it must've just been a fluke.

"I knew the dam would break eventually. Mingyu's not much of a patient guy," he chuckled.

"Gyu? You knew he liked me?!"

"Of course I did. I knew about the both of you. Took you guys too long, to be honest. Watching you both go crazy over it was kinda funny, though," he chuckled to himself again, "Anyways, can you move? I have class in an hour."

"Dick', you mumbled 'And, uh, you can't come in. Gyu's kinda ..."

"Don't finish that sentence. Don't need to know more details. Jesus, was all night not enough?", he paused, shaking his head, "Never mind, don't answer that either. I'm just gonna borrow Cheol's shit. Just leave before you get caught here after hours," and with that he left, allowing you to close the gap on the door as you turned back to face a still-asleep Mingyu.

You laid back down with him, attempting to sneak your way back into his arms, only to finally awake him in the process.

"Mmm, baby?", he mumbled, seeking even more closeness go you, "Was someone at the door?"

"Just Wonwoo. Go back to sleep, Gyu."

"Nonu? What'd he say?"

"Called me a dumbass and told me to get out," you pouted at him.

He chuckled at this, but immediately whining right after, "Nooo, gotta keep you here, remember? Can't let you go anymore. He'll understand, don't worry. You'll just be our roommie."

"Am I moving in now, then?", you giggled against him.

"Yeah, baby. Gonna be us three again, yeah?"

"Yeah," you hummed, happy to have finally bagged your best friend, and knowing your brother would be nothing but supportive about it. After all, you had a tendency of sticking by him. Nothing had changed after all.

a/n: i honestly had no idea how to finish this T-T i hope u enjoyed reading though <3 i proofread most of it but there might still be some mistakes hehe sorry </3

#seventeen fanfic #seventeen x reader #seventeen #svt fanfic #svt #seventeen smut #svt smut #svt x reader #seventeen imagine #mingyu smut #mingyu fanfic #mingyu x reader #mingyu fic #mingyu imagine #mingyu fluff

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theartofangirling · 7 months

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part 3 of the 2023 version of this post: adult books!

part 1: middle grade books | part 2: young adult books

this is a very incomplete list, as these are only books I've read and enjoyed. not all books are going to be for all readers, so I'd recommend looking up synopses and content warnings. feel free to message me with any questions about specific representation!

list of books under the cut ⬇️

yerba buena by nina lacour

if we were villains by m.l. rio

everyone in this room will someday be dead by emily r. austin

i want to be a wall by honami shirono

portrait of a thief by grace d. li

the thirty names of night by zeyn joukhadar

on earth we're briefly gorgeous by ocean vuong

love & other disasters by anita kelly

take a hint, dani brown by talia hibbert

boyfriend material by alexis hall

almost like being in love by steve kluger

the charm offensive by alison cochrun

something wild & wonderful by anita kelly

red, white & royal blue by casey mcquiston

something to talk about by meryl wilsner

honey girl by morgan rogers

one last stop by casey mcquiston

once ghosted, twice shy by alyssa cole

kiss her once for me by alison cochrun

a spindle splintered by alix e. harrow

finna by nino cipri

every heart a dooryway by seanan mcguire

the starless sea by erin morgenstern

under the whispering door by tj klune

space opera by catherynne m. valente

light from uncommon stars by ryka aoki

dead collections by isaac fellman

the city we became by n.k. jemisin

light carries on by ray nadine

an absolutely remarkable thing by hank green

feed them silence by lee mandelo

summer sons by lee mandelo

upright women wanted by sarah gailey

lavender house by lev a.c. rosen

fried green tomatoes at the whistle stop cafe by fannie flagg

the seven husbands of evelyn hugo by taylor jenkins reid

a master of djinn by p. djeli clark

witchmark by c.l. polk

a marvellous light by freya marske

a restless truth by freya marske

when women were dragons by kelly barnhill

plain bad heroines by emily m. danforth

a lady for a duke by alexis hall

infamous by lex croucher

passing strange by ellen klages

even though i knew the end by c.l. polk

the chosen and the beautiful by nghi vo

whiskey when we're dry by john larison

wake of vultures by lila bowen

silver in the wood by emily tesh

the once and future witches by alix e. harrow

the kingdoms by natasha pulley

a tip for the hangman by allison epstein

she who became the sun by shelley parker-chan

the song of achilles by madeline miller

spear by nicola griffith

this is how you lose the time war by amal el-mohtar and max gladstone

gideon the ninth by tamsyn muir

some desperate glory by emily tesh

all systems red by martha wells

a psalm for the wild built by becky chambers

the mimicking of known successes by malka older

winter's orbit by everina maxwell

fireheart tiger by aliette de bodard

empress of salt and fortune by nghi vo

legends and lattes by travis baldree

the house in the cerulean sea by tj klune

other ever afters by melanie gillman

the priory of the orange tree by samantha shannon

a day of fallen night by samantha shannon

a strange and stubborn endurance by foz meadows

the unbroken by c.l. clark

real queer america by samantha allen

fun home by alison bechdel

in the dream house by carmen maria machado

better living through birding by christian cooper

why fish don't exist by lulu miller

#lgbtq+ books #queer books #book recommendations #gay books #book flow chart #part 3 of 3!#AND THAT'S IT oh my god this took me days #mp

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the-girl-wh0-cries-w0lf · 4 months

Text

Chocolate Princess ♡

Willy Wonka x reader

Description - Y/n Ficklegruber can't help but become enamoured with the spectacularly peculiar man stood in the middle of the galleria.

Word count - 1.6k

warnings - fluff ♡

a/n: Watched Wonka today with my sister and my little cousins and honestly have never smiled so much during a film. Every bit of it was just pure wondourous imagination. And Timothee as Wonka was just too scrumptious! Who couldn't love him!

Masterlist

PART TWO

--♡--

I began everyday as I always did. Being ungraciously tumbled out of my pink satin sheets, poked and prodded by our various servants, squeezed into the most painstakingly prissy pink gingham dress (with a matching bow for extra faff), and hauled into my fathers car to join him on his way to work.

You see, I am the sole child of famed chocolatier Felix Ficklegruber. Since I had completed my mandatory years of studies, my days consisted of lounging about my fathers office in complete boredom. My mind practically weakened with the mundane repetitiveness of it all, and I knew it would surely combust if it was not stimulated soon. For 2 years now, I had been begging my father to allow me to study at the prestigious university at the edge of town. But each plea had been met with a scoff, an eyebrow raise and sharp “no”. Even the library was off limits.

I paced around his office, deliberately scuffing my mary janes against the carpet. I smirked at how each scrape made his face tick as if it was being flicked.

“Would you cease that infernal racket. I am trying to work, precious girl.”

“What work? All you do is sit up here eating your own chocolate.” I slumped down onto the disgustingly green couch.

“Please darling, you are giving me a headache, I must ring for my 8am mocha.” He picked up the telephone, clasping his fingers to his eyes.

I drummed my fingers against my dress and clicked my heels together. “You know,” I trailed off. “I wouldn’t be here to bother you at all if…I was at the library.”

The phone was slammed back onto the receiver which made me flinch. He rose from the desk and stalked his way towards me.

“No daughter of mine will be caught in some stuffy book prison-”

“That’s not entirely correct..”

“--That are refuge for the ugly, the untalented and the p–” He dry heaved. I winced at the possibility of another spew. “The p-” I lunged for a bowl as he spluttered.

“I know what you are going to say so maybe we should avoid any bodily functions.” I picked up his monogrammed hanky and wet it from my glass of water. I dabbed the cool liquid against his mouth. His eyes softened at my action and his hand softly clasped around my wrist.

“Sweetheart, you live in complete luxury. Have treasures other children couldn’t even dream of. Why can’t you just stay.” My gaze fell. His hands held my shoulders to turn me around and led me towards the towering window which overlooked the galleria. “Besides, one day you will inherit my pride and joy, my fortune, the very thing that ignites my soul, my–”

“Who’s that?” I interrupted, and pointed my finger to a beautifully disheveled man who had risen atop his suitcase in order to address the crowd. I quirked a smile and took in the strange man, who was truly more a boy, and his frightfully exciting appearance.

The thickness of the window meant I couldn’t hear what the boy was saying but his movements and expressions delighted me to no end. I giggled as he began to flap, mimicking a butterfly. I gasped as he produced from his shallow hat, a large jar of what appeared to be chocolate eggs. But once he took the top off, I shrieked in delight, as each little egg floated up as if carried by wings.

I felt my father stiffen before he shoved me away from the window.

“Now, now sweetheart. Do not bother looking at this man any longer. Clearly another hopeful vagrant but do not worry.” He lifted my chin with his pinky. “We shall deal with him right now.”

I rolled my eyes, knowing exactly who was ‘we’.

--♡--

Once the three had left their respective stores, I snuck out of our own and managed to squeeze my way through the crowd so I was left behind my father and my, and I regret to say it, godfathers.

They each took a bite of the treats offered by the mysterious man who beamed at them with awe filled eyes.

Even from my limited view I could see the flickers of enjoyment cross each of their eyes as they questioned the different ingredients. But my gazing was caught by the top hatted man. His smile grew even brighter as our eyes met. I felt unsure in the presence of a man such as him and all my normal instincts failed. So I settled on a little wave. He offered a small wave back.

“--100%, the absolute WORST!”

The man jumped out of his skin in glee, mishearing Slugworth because of his focus on me.

“Did you hear that ladies and gentlemen, an endorsement by–wait did you say the worst?”

Anger bubbling in my blood, I finally made my presence known.

“You lie, Arthur. I saw your face! You haven’t enjoyed a treat that much since daddy figured out how to make marshmallow flavored chocolate milk.”

There were murmurs amongst the three in agreement and fond memory of that chocolate milk. But they snapped back and I was held firmly by my father who apologized to Slugworth for my rude behavior. A cane was held down on the hand that gripped me. I looked up and met the sweet face of its owner.

“I am terribly sorry.” With a practiced flick I was released. I looped my hand around my saviours available arm. He led me backwards in comical cautiousness. “But I don’t think she’d like to be held for what comes next.”

Suddenly, the three men began to lift into the air.

“The hoverbugs from mumbai! They love chocolate! You must have put their eggs in the treat!” I exclaimed excitedly, whilst watching the hilarious display.

“Exactly.” In my glee, I hadn’t noticed the adoring look which the chocolatier had fixed on the side of my head.

The fun was interrupted by the chief of police. I rolled my eyes. Slugworth must have phoned.

“Now Ms Ficklegruber if you’d kindly step away from the criminal.” The chief of police gestured and I was led away as they interrogated the man whose name I still didn’t know. I looked on sadly as he was forced to give up his earnings. I shoved off the policemen’s arms, I made my way back over to the man whose face was as solemn as how happy it had been just minutes before. The excitement around the galleria had dimmed as various floating consumers were returned to gravity.

“I am really sorry.” I gestured to the measly sovereign he was left with.

“Don’t be. It was a law and I broke it. These fine men were merely doing their job. But a new day shall bring new promise.” He soldiered on with a smile and once again patted his hat back upon his head. “At least I can make rent.” He flicked the sovereign up and caught it once again.

“Where are you staying?”

“Scrubbits.”

My face fell in sympathy. “You didn’t read the fine print?” I pitied the poor man and what was about to befall him. Scrubbits contract was a common warning amongst residents but as I truly took in the whimsical nature which surrounded this man, I knew he wasn't from here. And that made me smile. This place could use something new.

He sheepishly scratched the back of his head and lowered his eyeline.

“You can’t read?” I questioned but my tone couldn't help but soften.

“I always thought my mama would teach me, but eventually my pursuits became solely chocolate.” I reached out and grasped his arm. Stroking the velvet beneath my fingertips.

Before I even knew what they were, the words left my mouth. “I could teach you.”

He was surprised. “You would? But why?”

“You’re interesting.” I peered back to the shop which loomed behind me. “I need that.”

“Forgive me, I have not even introduced myself.” He took off his hat and leaned into a deep bow. “My name is Willy Wonka.”

I giggled but responded with a curtsy of my own. “Y/n Ficklegruber.”

At the mention of my last name he looked towards the ceiling where my father still hung, gesturing feebly. “Wow. You really have chocolate in your blood. No wonder you’re so sweet.” Both our eyes widened when we realized what he said. A blush spread across my heated cheeks and meeting Willy’s eyes suddenly became impossible.

“Y/N GET AWAY FROM THAT CANDY GRABBING SCOUNDREL!” My fathers voice beat down from the ceiling where he had been watching my entire interaction with Wonka.

“Meet me at the fountain, tonight, 10pm sharp. Daddy will be in a sugar crash by then. It’ll be easy to sneak out.”

Before I could rush off to avoid my father once his feet returned to earth, Willy halted my movements and placed his empty palm out in front of me.

“Before you go, I want to give you something. You shouldn’t have anything I make in bulk. You deserve something a little more…” He placed a cloth over his palm and ripped it off revealing a deep red chocolate heart decorated with tiny flakes of gold. “Bespoke.”

I placed the treat in my mouth and audibly moaned at the taste. This man was a true genius. My father is going to be so mad. I could jump for joy.

“Till tonight, Mr Wonka.”

“Please, call me Willy.” I leaned up and delicately kissed his cheek in a way of goodbye.

--♡--

That night after discovering the true horror of what being a “guest” of Scrubbits included, Willy begged and pleaded with his newest friend, Noodle, to help him sneak out for the night because, in his words, he’d seen…

“The most beautiful girl to ever exist and if I don’t get to see her again tonight, my heart might just burst out of my chest!”

--♡--

#willy wonka x reader #willy wonka x you #willy wonka #timothee chalamet #timothee chalamet wonka #wonka #timothee!wonka x reader #wonka x reader #wonka 2023

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yandere-daydreams · 9 months

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Red-Tailed Hawk!Diluc, who crash-lands on your balcony in the middle of winter, long after he should've migrated somewhere more hospitable to his animal counterpart. He's badly injured, half-frozen, and clearly in a state of shock, but you manage to drag him inside after a few minutes of struggling and fussing over his massive wings. An emergency vet is called, a small fortune dulled out in exchange for anti-biotics and bandages, but Diluc only wakes up hours after the chaos has blown over, after he's been moved to your bed and most of his blood has been scrubbed out of your carpeting. If you didn't have such a soft spot for birds, you might've been more mad at him.

Red-Tailed Hawk!Diluc, who's surprisingly calm for a man who was on the verge of death less than a day ago. He apologizes for the trouble he's caused you, explains that his injuries came from a 'minor altercation' with his brother and promises that you'll be repaid for everything he's cost you so far, even if you can't say you're sure how a hybrid would have that kind of funding. His composure only falters when he realizes that he won't be able to fly until his wings heal, and even then, he manages to limit his frustration to a thin scowl and a wary sigh. His poise is a relief. He'll be stuck with you for a while, and a temper would've made a bad situation even worse.

Red-Tailed Hawk!Diluc, who clearly isn't as wild as you initially thought. If anything, your meager apartment seems too a little too modest for his tastes - you're not sure if you've ever heard anyone mention the thread count of your sheets so casually, let alone a hybrid. Still, he adjusts quickly. By the end of his first week with you, you can't stop him from helping around the house. He's a good cook, especially, and he seems to enjoy being able to take some of the stress off of you. You've heard that it's a common trait for hybrids, some universal base instinct to 'provide for a pack'. To be honest, you don't really care. He's nice to have around, even if you know he can't stay forever.

Red-Tailed Hawk!Diluc, who only ever blushes whenever you tend to his wings. You're not a professional, but you do your best to clear away all of the bent and broken feathers, to replace his bandages as often as the vet recommended, but you're still clumsy, still slow enough to mean he has to spend the better part of the hour sitting between your legs with his wings splayed out in your lap. He tries to keep up a conversation, but he trips over his words, balls his fists, pulls his hindlimbs against his chest and tries to pretend he's unaffected. It's cute, watching a creature as stoic as Diluc lose a few of his reservations.

Red-Tailed Hawk!Diluc, who's too massive to sleep anywhere but your bed. You resign yourself to the couch for a while, but it's not long before you give in to his constant offers to share and end up spending most nights pressed into his side, one of his wings draped over you and an arm loosely wrapped around your waist. You learn quickly that hawks are creatures of routine, which means that you now have a very, very strictly enforced bedtime. He's not afraid to sling you over his shoulder and put you where he wants you to be, and there's only so much you can do to fight against a bird-man twice your height and more than double your strength.

Red-Tailed Hawk!Diluc, who gets... protective of your apartment, after a few weeks. It's not much - a small frown when you mention a friend he doesn't care for, a certain caginess when you have guests over - but it's far-cry from his normal, gentlemanly behavior. It might just be the instincts of a wounded animal attempting to protect his nest, but still. You worry about him, sometimes.

Red-Tailed Hawk!Diluc, whose wings are getting better every day. He's able to make short trips, now, and you make sure to praise him as heavily as you can whenever he comes back from a lap around your apartment complex. You swear, when you're at work or running errands, you'll see a scarlet shape circling miles above you and convince yourself it's Diluc, but he's not the secretive type. You're sure, if he was really that far along, he wouldn't be able to hide it from you. You're sure, if he was really able to fly that well, he wouldn't stay any longer than the time it took to tell you that he was going home.

Red-Tailed Hawk!Diluc, who's cuddled against your chest when you come to, your skin still numb from the windburn and your vision still blurred with tears. You can barely keep yourself awake, barely lift your head, but you can make out a lavish, crimson bedroom; a bed of sheets and pillows that goes on as far as you can see. No, not a bed, a nest. One big enough for a hawk and its mate.

Red-Tailed Hawk!Diluc, who's always been territorial. You just weren't able to see that until after he decided you were a part of that territory, too.

#hybrid au #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere genshin #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x you #genshin impact #genshin imagines #yandere diluc #diluc x reader #yanderecore #yancore

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ceilidho · 4 months

Text

take me home, country road

prompt: 1800s price/reader…. reader flees to his town where Price is the sheriff after a murder in her previous town only to be mistaken for the mail order bride that Price just sent for ….and he’s not interested in hearing any of her excuses when she tells him that he’s got the wrong girl (part 2) part 1

The solid hand at your back guides you through the dusty streets towards the courthouse in the middle of town. It’s not an easy walk. Your shoes catch on the skirt of your dress a handful of times in Price’s haste, each time almost causing you to tumble forward before you manage to catch yourself.

It’s patently unfair. The strides of his long legs would easily have you losing him in a crowd were it not for the way he refuses to leave you behind; every time you so much as slow down a tad to catch your breath, the firm hand on your low back presses you forward again. You’d be snippier if you weren’t still addled from the events of just five minutes previous.

“I beg you, please—” you plead, heart skittering in your chest when you chance a glance up to find Price’s face set. Everything about him feels purposeful now, driven. “If you just—if you would just let me explain!”

“Nothing more to know, darling,” he says, not bothering to meet your desperate eyes. Clearly not in any mood to continue arguing with you on the status of your identity.

He tugs you along when he takes a right turn down a road leading into the center of town. The belt of bullets around his waist rattles with every step. It’s a constant reminder of who you’re with and why you should not be with him. Every step feels like a step towards your own sentencing, like accompanying your jailer to your cell. It’s perhaps fool’s luck that the sheriff hasn’t inquired further into your identity or your reason for coming into town. Makes you think that perhaps there isn’t yet a warrant out for your arrest. Maybe that’s only to come.

“Sure there’s more!” you insist. “There’s—there’s—” It’s like the words fly right out of your head, bucked off like a bronc rider. Too much has happened in too short a time. “There’s the matter of—oh, would you quit that, I am walking!” The last bit comes out snappish, peeved as Price pulls you towards the stone steps of a red-bricked building.

The words County Court House are inscribed above the second-story door girdled by a wrought iron balcony. It’s a simple building, far from the colonnaded buildings from back home with their cupolas and hand-carved lintels. Even in size it hardly compares, a meager three stories with perhaps a basement. Still, it catches the eye in a town as small as this, by far the most imposing building for miles around.

It’s also the one he pulls you towards, hand moving from the small of your back to take firm hold of your waist. You flinch at the touch and the way his fingers dig in, almost proprietarily. It’s a physical shock to your system. While you’re not unaccustomed to the rougher ways of men, you’ve also been largely shielded from it yourself. By chance or fortune or luck. Men may take an attitude with you, as they’re wont to do, but none have yet manhandled you the way Price feels free to do.

“Take a big step there now, darling,” he says, lifting the front of your dress for you a tad, to your shock. “No accidents before the wedding.”

“The wedding?” you shriek, face heating at the heads that turn to look over at the two of you.

The courthouse is bustling with townsfolk, still not as busy as in the bigger cities back east, but still clearly at the center of all business activities. The few people that pass you by on the way out of or into the courthouse are bold in their perusal, eyebrows lifting when they take notice of Price at your side—and how could they not, with the size of him and the badge pinned to the lapel of his vest that glimmers when it catches the light.

“If you were expecting something grander, you should’ve turned up last month when I sent for you,” Price says, stern again. In the foyer of the courthouse, you can see the way the long hallway cuts through the building, leading into the adjacent rooms until finally culminating with the courtroom at the very back. You watch as a man slowly closes the door to the last door, shutting the occupants in. “Might’ve been more amenable to it then.”

“I’m not asking for a nicer ceremony—”

“Good, then you won’t be disappointed.”

“—but that’s because I’m not the woman that you intended to marry in the first place,” you finish, quieting to a hissed whisper, conscious of those still lingering close enough to eavesdrop. In all likelihood, the other people milling around probably already know that the sheriff has been waiting for his mail order bride to arrive. They wouldn’t be the first people to mistake you for her.

He pulls you into an alcove off the side of the foyer. When Price turns to face you, no longer just the heavy presence at your side, it takes a moment for you to gather your bearings. He seems larger somehow, with his arms crossed over his chest and feet rooted into the floor, drawn up to his full height. The hair on his forearms draws your eyes momentarily before he steps into your space, forcing you to meet his eyes again.

He stares down at you with an intensity that makes you flinch. “Now, far be it for me to say that I know my wife-to-be by her demeanor alone, given that we’ve hardly corresponded beyond our initial agreement. But I find it mighty strange that a single, unaccompanied woman would show up in town with all of her earthly belongings as I’m expecting my own woman to show up any day. Hardly seems coincidental.”

“Don’t you think I would have sought you out if we were intended to wed?” you ask beseechingly. “Or that I would put up such a fuss now? What sort of bride would do that?”

“You want to know what I think, darling?” The timber of his voice deepens as he lowers his head slightly, wrapping the conversation in a layer of intimacy despite its public nature. There’s a darker note to his voice now, a thinly-veiled anger. “I think you’ve been keeping yourself housed and fed off the back of men like me and the money you’ve been sent to compensate for the rough journey. I think your guilty conscience brought you here because you know that the Lord doesn’t look too kindly on swindlers and thieves.”

“I’m not a thief,” you hiss in protest, affronted. Ironic that you’d be insulted by his words when the truth is far worse.

“I’m sure you had your reasons,” Price permits, a reluctant softness in his voice. “But your conscience did you right. Marriage will suit you far better than a life of crime ever could.”

If only he knew. “You’ve still got it all wrong—I’ve never once even glanced at the matrimonial pages or the personals. And I certainly didn’t come to town expecting to be wed.”

You did, however, arrive in town with a guilty conscience. Even you’re wise enough not to mention that, though.

“Then if you're not her, who are you?” he asks.

It’s clear from his tone that Price doesn’t believe you, but the question itself makes you antsier than even the thought of marrying this man. He still stares down at you in challenge, an eyebrow cocked. If you wanted to, you could easily answer his question and even furnish proof—a letter from an aunt or uncle or a telegram from a previous employer.

That last thought makes your throat squeeze tight. You could furnish proof, but at what cost? You’re still unclear on how much information has been disseminated or whether you're a wanted woman. Though only weeks have passed since the event that caused you to flee in a haste, there’s no telling whether a warrant has been put out for your arrest, no telling whether word has reached a town this far west.

“Not that it matters, but I’m from New York,” you say, scrunching up your nose.

The look he gives you is unimpressed. “I’m sure you lost the accent on the train ride.”

Embarrassment makes you dig your heels in deeper. “I didn’t grow up there, it’s just where I’ve lived for the past few years.”

“And what’s your name?”

“…Elizabeth Smith.”

It’s the first name that occurs to you, but the moment the words come out of your mouth, you can’t help feeling like you’ve made a huge mistake. Price must sense it too because he draws back up to his full height, lips twitching into a small smirk.

“You have family or a post back in New York, Miss Smith?” he asks in a patronizing tone.

“Family.”

“Alright, then it shouldn’t be too hard to get confirmation and settle this whole issue.” He points behind you to one of the unoccupied rooms. “Telegraph’s office just behind you. We’ll get in touch with the Census Bureau and ask them to confirm your identity. And, if you are who you say you are, Miss Smith, then we can put this issue to rights.”

Your blood goes cold. “That’ll—that’ll take time though. I can’t marry you today if they only get back to you in a week’s time.”

Price nods, his expression dissatisfied but resolved. “Wouldn’t be proper for you to stay at the house either, but I’ll make sure the inn lets you stay free of charge until this is settled. You’ll be in good hands under the Pattersons’ watch.”

He doesn’t say it outright, but you hear the implication in his words. You’d be essentially under house arrest, perhaps free to move about town, but certainly not free to take the next train out.

Your pulse thumps nervously at the base of your throat. Even swallowing takes effort now. The weight of his stare takes root in you, a living coil in your belly. No getting out of it. There’s no getting out of this. You don’t know why you thought you could, how you tricked yourself into thinking for even a moment that a man as formidable as the one set in front of you would simply give in. Let you go. You’ve hardly even moved the needle.

It’s there still in his eyes. Not even doubt—something quite far past that. Certainty.

“‘Elizabeth Smith of New York’, was it? Come, we’ll have them start the message and you can give me your birthday as well so it’ll be an easy find—” Price says, attempting to slip around you to head to the telegraph’s office.

“No.”

It slips out of you inadvertently, high and panicked. He pauses at the word. More than just your words. When you look down, you notice your fingers clenched in the fabric of his sleeve, bringing him to a halt. It pulls taut against the muscle of his forearm.

Softness bleeds back into him at your touch. You can see it smooth out the lines of his forehead and the jut of his brow. He ignores the onlookers still hovering by the double doors to twist back to you, now obscuring their view of you. The breadth of his shoulders nearly blocks the rest of the foyer from sight when he looms over you like this. Down the hall, you can hear a gavel pound down on wood and a litany of raised voices in unison from behind a shut door.

“You don’t have to make up stories,” Price murmurs, drawing a hand up to cup your cheek, holding it like a precious thing. “I told you before—all’s forgiven.”

His words remind you of being trapped in his office, drawers stripped down your ankles and skirt pulled up to your waist. Your bottom still smarts from the palm of his hand, still hot and sore to the touch. It’s hardly been long since then and yet it feels like an age ago, like trying to find your way in a dust storm.

You open and shut your mouth, lost for a way out. Caught between a rock and a hard place. Marriage or a jail cell. You swallow. Both sound like a sentencing.

But there are the cold, metal bars of a cell, and then there’s John Price. The first man in an age to elicit more than a passing glance from you. Deep blue eyes crinkled with the folds of old laughter, wide shoulders, and barrel chest. In another time, you think you would’ve jumped at the chance to be courted by a man like him. Keeled over at the very thought of being chased the way he hunts you down now.

“Alright,” you say instead, giving in. The hand fisting his sleeve shakes. “Alright.”

It’s not a pleasant giving in. Your permission is handed over with shot nerves. The coil bunched up in your core burns white hot, hissing and spitting like a rattlesnake.

Still, when he drags a thumb over the slope of your cheek, you fight not to let your eyelids flutter shut. “Good girl. We’ll make it work, love. Won’t be easy, but it never is.”

You don’t anticipate that it will be, but your mouth stays shut. Price must think you mollified, soothed rather than resigned to your fate, because he passes his thumb once more over your cheekbone, this time so tenderly that you wait for his lips to descend upon yours again, sure from the heat in his eyes that he won’t be able to keep from stealing another kiss. You lick your lips out of habit—not just to see the way his eyes follow the motion.

Then the door at the back of the building bursts open to a cacophony of shouts and hollering voices. The moment broken, Price drops his hand away from your cheek, only to take your hand in his this time, pulling you down the hall towards the register’s to await the circuit preacher. He makes you walk on the side closest to the wall, shielding you from the men that burst out of the courtroom, surging towards the doors. You think that someone must have been found guilty because the lot of them look joyous, clamoring over each other for attention.

You think that you might be spared another minute or two, enough time for them to clean up and reset the courtroom, but you’re shocked to find the circuit preacher ready to conduct the ceremony in the cramped register’s office. He and Price shake hands enthusiastically, the preacher turning to you to grasp your hands in welcome before turning back to the sheriff. They have a camaraderie that speaks of old friendship.

The cramped room where you’re married smells of patchouli and moth wings, like holes burrowed into sweaters at the back of a closet. The bookshelves along the walls are stacked with books old enough that you know they’d crinkle deliciously if opened. You try to listen as the preacher begins the introductory prayer. Behind you, another man slips into the room, a witness. He hardly bothers to introduce himself for such a brief affair.

You haven’t been to many weddings, but you always imagined that yours—if you were privileged enough to have one—might have more fanfare. The wedding you actually get is a brusque affair, a brief recital of vows that ends only when the preacher enjoins Price to kiss his wife.

His wife.

Your eyes go wide when a hand flattens along your spine and pulls you into a hard chest, John dipping his head down to kiss your mouth again. His kiss is less chaste this time, not restricted by convention as earlier. This time, his tongue licks hot into your mouth, like no kiss you’ve ever had before, beard scratching your face. His mouth tastes like something you’ve never had before, like heatburst. Hot and wet. Soft and suckling. Any kiss you’ve had before pales in comparison—juvenile fumbling, all dry and half-humiliated, unsure of yourself. Nothing like being kissed by your husband.

Your husband.

He only pulls away when the preacher finally clears his throat, a tad embarrassed. You’re too dazed to feel the same, fingers still sunk into the lapels of Price’s vest, clutched there. It takes a moment for your brain to catch up and your hands to unclench. You feel Price tug your hands away and slip something onto your finger.

The few documents needing to be signed hardly takes any longer. You finally notice the man that had slipped in behind the two of you, a masked man even larger than Price, who nods at him before glancing at you only long enough for you to notice that his eyes seem curiously blank.

“Thanks, Simon,” Price says as the man—Simon—signs under your names, but he only grunts. The ink is still wet when he leaves.

“How was it so fast?” you ask absently, staring at the papers as the ink sits drying and the preacher takes his own copy before handing John his.

“Everything’s practical out here, darling.” His hand holds you by the waist again, relaxed this time. Not worried about whether you might run. “Even the weddings.”

“You don’t…you don’t even serve dinner? Invite guests over? No gifts?” The questions are irrelevant, but you ask them anyway because it’s a way to focus on anything other than the preacher handing you the final copy of the papers and Price leading you back down the hall and out the doors.

There’s a ring on my finger, you think, looking down. It sparkles when you twist your hand from side to side. Topaz, instead of diamond.

“Maybe if you’d showed up on time,” Price reminds you. He no longer sounds upset about it, but it still seems to come out as an admonishment.

You don’t respond to that. Perhaps you’re still shell-shocked, looking at the world through new eyes. It feels unreal that in the span of less than a day, you’ve been plucked up and married off, to the sheriff no less. The one man you would’ve tried your hardest to avoid crossing paths with.

No chance of that now.

“Where are we going?” you ask, still in a daze. The sun makes you squint when you leave the courthouse, making you miss the hat back in your room at the inn. Maybe you can convince Price to let you go back to collect your things.

“I think we’re due for a honeymoon, don’t you, darling?”

You go doe-eyed at that. When you look up, your husband is already smiling down at you, crow’s feet wrinkling at the sides of his eyes.

“Let’s go home.”

#ceil writing #cod mw2 #cod x reader #john price #captain john price #price x reader #john price x reader #captain price #cod price #price/reader #price x you

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igotanidea · 3 months

Text

Almost there: Anthony Bridgerton x reader

part 1: Too much

part 2 : Not enough

***

„One of those days you will get us both in trouble, Eloise.”

Due to some miracle, Y/N and her second-in-age sister in law managed to escape the watchful gaze of all, lady Danburry, Violet and Daphne, and rushed forward on the promenade. It was generally frowned upon, that the married lady strolled in the presence of a girl, who wasn’t even a débutante yet, but neither of those two seemed to take much interest in ton’s opinion.

“Trouble from merely speaking the truth?”

“Shall I remind you that this virtue is long forgotten in the society full of hypocrisy and deceit?” Y/N whispered taking Eloise’s arm to at least keep the pretences of being discreet. It would be unwise to let anyone else eavesdrop on the little exchange of words between close friends.

“It’s almost like you don’t trust me, my dear sister-in-law.” Eloise chuckled feigning the pompous tone.

“Please don’t ever call me like that again. You were my friend before you were my family. Don’t put the distance between us now. ”

“If anything I’d dare say I’m the reason you met with Anthony and –“ the sentence was cut out abruptly, as Eloise realised that Y/N was currently in the middle of a heavy argument with her husband. An argument that made her flee the house and turned out on the doorstep on the other Bridgerton’s house announced, in search for a friendly soul to talk to. And now she actually realised that all that may have been her fault from the beginning. If Y/N and Anthony have never met, they never would have fought and never—

“Stop overthinking it, dear.” The current viscountess chuckled observing her friend’s slightly hazy gaze and recognising it instantly. Clearly Eloise was getting lost in her own head.

‘Do not call me that!” the girl’s eyes became sharp and conscious again “I can hardly stand being called that affectionately by my mother, let alone by you.”

“Worked just as planned though.”

“Well, my biggest congratulations on being effective in the matter. You are almost as good at me with it.”

“Oh, almost? From what I can recollect I taught you most of those tricks.” Y/N smiled brightly.

“Really?” Eloise raised an eyebrow “I can’t remember. Hey what do you say we run away from our chaperones and have a proper, meaningful discussion on what’s troubling you?”

“I wish it was that easy. But I’m a wife now and apparently –“

“Viscountess Bridgerton!” a sudden voice came from in front of them and Y/N felt like actually taking Eloise advice and rushing off. It was almost like the whole world decided to prey on her misery on that particular day. First lady Danburry, now lady Featherington. “How lovely to see you! Marriage serves you well. You are beaming, dear.”

Y/N gritted her teeth in hardly hidden annoyance at such obvious show of nosiness and lack of tact. She knew instantly that she had to cut the conversation short before another wave of unwanted questions about her blessed (or not) state would come.

‘Lady Featherington. Pleasure to see you there. Are your daughters accompanying you or are they occupied with their upcoming prenuptial agreements? I surely hope they would be as fortunate with their future husbands as I am with mine. And speaking of which, if you excuse me, I need to discuss a very urgent matter on the subject with my family.”She put an emphasis on two last word and not waiting for response, abandoning all the rules of the lady behaviour, tried to drag Eloise away almost sighing deeply in frustration.

„Oh, but viscountess, once Penelope weds Colin, we will be a family.” lady Featherington stopped both girls in their tracks before they managed to escape.

„I beg your pardon, what now?”

‘Oh, you didn’t know, viscountess? Your brother-in-law is about to marry my youngest daughter. By some miracle, clearly, since Penelope--” Portia started rambling without a care in the world.

„Oh I know about that part.” Y/N faked a smile that didn’t reach her eyes „I merely have the deep conviction that us becoming family is rather an improbable claim.”

„But--”

„Dearest lady Featherington, do not push my hand here. I would rather stay in amity with you. A very fragile alliance shall you pry into my private matters. I dare say you have a certain interest in using those bold statements? ”

„I beg your pardon?”

„The viscount, is still in the charge of his famliy’s - our family’s finances. And that shall include the future fortune of Colin. Shall you insist on intruding me during my leisure time I might have a word with my husband.”

„You truly do not disgrace yourself with being modest, do you, Y/N? Has social advancement changed you so much? I clearly remember you being a scrawny child with no aspiration and position and look at you now. A snake in a sparkish dress.”

„She can at least choose the colour that highlights her beauty and doesn't make her look like--”

„Thank you Eloise.” Y/N cut her off before she could cause some more havoc. Lady Featherington was an onerousness but her gossiping nature was something Y/N did not need in the current situation. „I shall believe lady Portia will keep our little conversation in mind for the future purposes. Hers and her daughter’s.

„Actually if the viscount is around --”

„Unfortunately, matters of utmost importance kept him at home today.” Y/N responded with the most patience she could gather at the moment. There was always a possibility of farewelling the unwanted company, but as previously stated - there was no need of spreading the rumours of some discrepancies between the newlyweds. This hydra had to be beheaded immediately before the news spread throughout London.

„Such a shame you were left to tend for yourself then viscountess.”

„I shall believe I’d receive the most warm welcome back once my husband free himself of all the duties and occupations.”

***

While Y/N was having a lively discussion with indefatigable Portia Featherington, someone was observing her closely from behind the tree, staying unnoticed themselves.

“Are you spying on her now?”

“I’m not spying!”

“Oh really? Then tell me brother, why on Earth would you hide in the bush instead of accompanying your wife on the promenade? If I were you –“

“Good thing you are not.” Anthony muttered grumpily keeping his eyes fixed on his wife’s silhouette. Even with her cheeks reddened from the indignation and eyes sparkling with cunning intelligence she was the most beautiful woman he has ever laid his eyes on. If anything, those characteristic may have only been adding to her charm.

he viscount may not have heard all the words exchanged between two ladies, but the way Y/N was keeping lady Portia at bay, standing her own ground and not wavering in the slightest was admirable and worthy of a viscountess. Serving as a reminder that his wife was not a fragile bird who was - in his opinion- in dire need of his protection and care, but rather a capable, strong woman, who would survive on her own.

Which brought him to another conclusion - that she didn’t rely on him as much as he expected her to. That she was proud enough to get the audacity to leave his home, leave him and decided (solely by herself!) to pay a visit to his sister.

“If I were you—“ Benedict grinned mischievously “I would run and drag Y/N away from Eloise before those two officially call you an idiot and make a plan for Y/N to leave you for good.” apparently the second son was capable of reading his older brother’s mind and pointing out all the worries that were already inside viscount’s head

“She would never.”

“I am unaware of the scope of your failure, but given the fact your wife rushed to Eloise, out of all the people must have been immense.”

“That’s it!’ Anthony hissed, almost crawling out from behind the tree, ready to clear this misunderstanding immediately.

***

„Oh, my dear!” Lady Featherington placed her hands on her hips as if she wanted to emphasize her higher position and knowledge of male-female relations. „Do not occupy yourself with the romance fantasies. Courtship is gone once the knot is tied. And after a child is born--” her gaze landed on Y/N’s stomach „you put all the efforts into keeping the family afloat and secure the future of the offspring.”

„I believe--”

„Viscountess, you are so young. So naive and innocent. Fed on the novels and stories.”

„Most of which cover the topic of history, literature and medicine rather than Shakespeare plays.” now the young woman was getting angry her cheeks flushing „topics which I boldly presume are far from your interest.”

„I beg your-”

„I kindly forgive you, lady Featherington. Now if you excuse us - I shall wish you a good day.”

„I am not--”

„Lady Featherington.”

The sudden deep voice coming from behind made all the ladies turn around at once.

„Viscount.” Portia bowed slightly „I was just having a little chat with your wife.”

„Educating her on the specificity of marital relations?”

„Giving her some of the knowledge that her prematurely deceased mother - God rest her soul - did not have the opportunity to teach her”

„How kind of you.” Anthony almost smirked and Y/N had to muffle the chuckle forming in the back of her throat looking down. It was like she saw the old him. „However I suppose that once I am here, you shall be free of your educative duties?”

„I--”

„do not preoccupy yourself my lady. My wife shall not lack the company from now on.” having said that, Antony walked right to Y/N offering her an arm and - a sight truly unexpected - bid the older lady goodbye while leading the viscountess away.

„I didn’t need you to save me.”

„such a shame I happened to be around then.”

„My undoing indeed.”

„Unforunate event that you might have to keep the externals for the duration of a stroll.” Anthony held her tighter and closer to him while nodding head to the acquaintance.

***

„Did you gather some intel on the current situation of our brother and his lovely wife?” Benedict, who followed the two of them without any hesitation, asked Eloise.

„I am Y/N’s confidante, I shall never-”

„You cannot trick me sister.”

„Anthony is an idiot.”

„I had quite a feeling you would say something like that. Now- shall we interfere or remain passive observers as Antony makes a fool of himself begging for her forgiveness?”

Eloise smirked as they continued their following.

She and Benedict always understood each other without words.

Edit: part 4 Stuck

@pietrawebster @chrissisheadisinclouds @fuzzym4m4 @gloomysel @urfavnoirette @dd122004dd @milkbummm @bevstofu @taniasethi @syraxnyra @christinabae @pandoraneverland @bevstofu @topguncultleader @jana-jaeynneee @myaa21212121 @ziarah @cat-lockwood @leaf-rose-thorn @elissanatok @lily3450 @nervousmumbling @cat-lockwood @pr3ttyfac3jaelyn

#anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton x you #anthony bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton fic #bridgerton angst

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risestarkiss · 3 months

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Being Purple ○ Part One

Rise Ramblings #314

Donnie, a.k.a. Othello von Ryan, a.k.a. Bootyyyshaker9000 is one of two middle children in the Hamato Clan. While Leo, the other middle child, eventually (and inevitably) becomes the leader of their group, Donatello is free to carve out his own place on the team.

And carve he does.

He can fix anything.

He can make anything.

It doesn’t end there.

His list of talents is truly exhaustive…

And for good reason. Through him, his entire family is able to have everything that they need to survive.

His resourcefulness knows no bounds and the comfort of his brothers are his top priority…

…mostly.

His usefulness is palpable. Visible. Physical.

His contribution is his strength. Through the trench he carved out for himself, he knows his place.

He’s the tech guy. He’s the “genius.” He’s their foundation.

He’s purple.

Besides, outside of what he can do and what he can contribute, what else is there?

Unlike his brothers, Donatello sees his usefulness to the team as what he can provide his family, and only what he can provide his family. Therefore, if they can get what he provides elsewhere, then, to him, he has no place on the team or amongst his brothers.

But why would Donnie see himself as replaceable?

Maybe, it’s the internalization of things like this:

And it’s possible that, unconsciously, it's the reason that Donatello acts the way that he does towards his tech.

Even to the point of his tech also being…replaceable.

But I digress...

I believe that Donnie's deep-set insecurity about his place in his family reveals itself through the constant search for external validation, especially from a "parent-aged adult."

Fortunately, in show, he finally realizes his true worth, and how he’s actually seen by the people that love him…

and receives the validation he’s yearned for the most.

So, where does Donatello go from here?

Well, ultimately, by the time we learn of the bad future, Donatello is already…no more. But who he became transcended his lifespan by breathing life into the very resistance itself.

He was a genius ahead of his time.

He was a loving brother; a kind, energetic, and gentle soul.

Thankfully, with the events of the movie, he can be all of those things and more...

He can be Donatello Hamato.

○○○○

Previous | Being Big Red • Being Baby Blue

Next | Being Purple ○ Part Two • Orange, Baby!

Finale | Being Hamato Yoshi

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fuckyeahgoodomens · 19 days

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Good Omens filming locations masterpost! ❤ 🐍😊 Part 2

(here to part 1 :))

Here to the map :)

Others in England (cont):

Tadfield Manor (S01E01, S01E02) - Bulstrode, Gerrards Cross

Scene: The Tadfield Manor where the satanic nuns run the hospital in the first episode and Aziraphale and Crowley visit in the second episode

Availability (as of 2024): The manor has been in private hands since 2016 - in 2023 sold again, I didn't find on the internet that it would be available to visit in any form, the manor is not visitble from the public road.

Link on the map

Four Horsemen meeting (S01E05) – Old School Cafe, Longcross Road B386

Scene: The cafe where Four Horsemen meet

Availability (as of 2024): street all day, the cafe Mon-Fri 7:30-15:00, Sat-Sun 8:30-15:00

Link on the map

Heaven middle floors (S01E01, S01E03, S01E04, S01E05) - Weybridge Business Park, Addlestone

Scene: The Heaven middle floors scenes in season 1 were filmed here

Availability (as of 2024): The places can be sort of seen from the street but I don't think that visiting is possible

Link on the map

Pollution by the river (S01E04) – River Wey Navigation, Guildford

Scene: The International Express Man delivers the package to Pollution

(fun fact: this one was the harderst one to pin down the exact location, I only knew bc of an article that the schooting took place by "Wey Navigation" which is a river long 32km (miles), I tried to find a better mention or through google maps comparing place for a long time but couldn't, finally I wrote to the River Way Navigation organization on facebook but they had no record of the shooting. Finally, in one of the photos I noticed that in the background there is a footbridge that I saw a photo of a similar footbridge while searching on a history of Wey Navigation river on the UK National Trust page and fortunately the previous mentioned facebook page knew where it was, WAHOO! :))

Availability (as of 2024): all day

Link on the map

Hogback Wood (S01E01, S01E02, S01E04, S01E05) - Painshill Park, Cobham

Scene: The Hogback Wood where The Them play, seen in several episodes.

Availability (as of 2024): The entrance to the park is paid (£11 with prebooking online on https://painshill.co.uk/visit-us/ticket-prices-booking/) They open at 10 and close at 16-18 depending on the season. The World Word II crater they shot the main scene at should be in the west-south tip of the park. The whole path there and back is 4km (2,5 miles).

Link on the map

International Express Man's house (S01E04) - Shetland Close, Guildford

Scene: The International Express Man leaves the house to make deliveries

Availability (as of 2024): street all day

Link on the map

Agnes Nutter's village (S01E02) - Weald & Downland Living Museum, Chichester

Scene: The Agnes Nutter's village in episode two. In the map I highlighted which part we see the villagers and Witchfinder Major Pulsifer to through in the show.

Availability (as of 2024): The entrance fee is paid (£15.50 for an adult ticket prebooked online https://www.wealddown.co.uk/), it opens at 10 and closes at 16-17 depending on the month.

Link on the map

Tadfield Air Base (S01E05, S01E06) - RAF Upper Heyford, Bicester

Scene: For the shooting of the Tadfield Air Base the former RAF Upper Heyford was used, by the examining the google maps and screenshots from the series I think that the area labeled as 'Shelter 9' was used.

Availability (as of 2024): The place is no longer used by RAF purposes, there are several companies that use certain areas it but it is not available for public. The Upper Heyford Heritage though organizes (paid - £25.00) tours through the airbase: http://www.upperheyfordheritage.co.uk/home-page/tour-booking/

Link on the map

Soho (S1) – Bovingdon Airfield Studios

Scene: The Aziraphale's bookshop and Soho in season one were built at Bovingdon Airfield Studios

Availability (as of 2024): The studios can be rented but I don't think they are publicly available – the Soho is not there anymore though, it is now build in studios in Scotland.

Link on the map

The motorway on fire (S01E05) - M96 Training Motorway at Fire Service College, Moreton-in-Marsh

Scene: The motorway on fire when Crowley is heading for Tadfield was filmed at M95 Training Motorway at Fire Service College that is usually used for training emergency service professionals

Availability (as of 2024): Not publicly available.

Link on the map

South Africa:

The 1941 church (S01E03) - St. Saviour's Church, Claremont, Cape Town

Scene: The scene in Season 1 where Aziraphale is outsmarted by the Nazis and is saved by Crowley

Availability (as of 2024): Their facebook says Always open

Link on the map

Famine at a fancy restaurant (S01E03) - Mutual Heights building, Cape Town

Scene: The restaurant where we meet Famine for the first time

Availability (as of 2024): It is a building with flats, offices and a reception, not available to public.

Link on the map

Crowley in a cinema (S01E04) - Joseph Stone Auditorium, Cape Town

Scene: Crowley in a cinema (with Neil Gaiman cameo) watching animated rabbits when Hastur interrupts

Availability (as of 2024): Not publicly available as such but they there are presentations and and such happening there https://www.facebook.com/josephstone1968/

Link on the map

Aziraphale dancing gavotte (S01E04) - Casa Labia, Cape Town

Scene: Aziraphale dancing gavotte in a discreet gentlemen's club in Portland Place in the late 1880s was filmed at Casa Labia in Cape Town

Availability (as of 2024): Casa labia is hotel and a restaurant so it can be visited in that way https://www.casalabia.com/

Link on the map

Anathema's child home (S01E02) - Llandudno Rock Villa, Cape Town

Scene: The home which we see Anathema as a child with The Book (in the show it's Malibu, California)

Availability (as of 2024): street all day, the villa itself seems that it can be rented

Link on the map

Eden desert and ep6 time bubble desert (S01E01,S01E06) – Atlantis Dunes, Cape Town

Scene: The Eden desert scenes and the time bubble with Adam and AC were filmed in the Atlantis Dunes at the outskirts of Cape Town

Availability (as of 2024): The Atlantis Dunes – or Witzands Aquifer Conservation Area – is a protected natural area. Biking adventures can be booked through https://atlantisdunes.com/ or also other activities through https://www.capetown.gov.za/Family%20and%20home/see-all-city-facilities/our-recreational-facilities/Nature%20reserves/Witzands%20Aquifer%20Nature%20Reserve

Link on the map

The apple tree in the Garden of Eden (S01E01) - Waterfall Valley (formerly Cascade Country Manor), Paarl

Scene: The Eden apple tree with the waterfall in the background was filmed at the retreat Waterfall Valley (then Cascade Country Manor) (the tree was added by the film crew for the scene)

Availability (as of 2024): I am not sure if you can visit the waterfall like that or you have to be a guest in the restreat. The retreat is available for booking: https://www.waterfallvalley.online/

Link on the map

There were other scenes also filmed at South Africa (thought not specified exactly where): Hell was filmed in Cape Town in a former abattoir. The Noah’s Ark scene and the Crucifixion scene were filmed on a windswept plain just outside Cape Town. Also the Meggido scenes. The entire village used for the scene with War causing mayhem in an african village is in fact a set, built on scrubland over a sand mine just outside Cape Town. The French Revolution scene wa shot on a set that had been used twenty-four hours earlier for the scene in Ancient Rome. Famine visiting a burger place with Elvis was shot on a set in Cape Town. Also some scene's in Anathema's cottage with Anathema and Newt.

SEASON 2

Most of season 2 has been shot inside the film studio in Bathgate (f.e. the whole Soho has been built there), the Hell in S2 has been shot in an old disused factory (not specififed which one). The shots of the Edinburgh castle have been shot from the top of the The Caledonian hotel.

Edinburgh:

Crowley and Shax in St James's Park (S02E01) – Inverleith Park, Edinburgh

Scene: Crowley and Shax meet to discuss the news in St James's Park – the scene though was actually filmed in Scotland.

Availability (as of 2024): All day

Link on the map

The place where Crowley parks the Bentley (S02E01, S02E02) – Circus Lane, Edinburgh

Scene: The place Crowley goes to to park the Bentley and sleep there

Availability (as of 2024): street all day

Link on the map

AC and Elspeth in Edinburgh (S02E03) - Moray Place, Edinburgh

Scene: Aziraphale, Crowley and Elspeth are taking the first "pickled herring" to be sold, Aziraphale and Crowley are debating good and evil

Availability (as of 2024): street all day

Link on the map

Detective Aziraphale parks the Bentley (S02E03) – Victoria Street, Edinburgh

Scene: Aziraphale arrives in the Bentley and happily goes to investigate

Availability (as of 2024): street all day

Link on the map

The Resurrectionist (S02E03, S02E06) - Cask and Barrel, Edinburgh

Scene: Aziraphale goes to investigate to The Resurrectionist bar (also in Gabriel's memories with Beelzebub) – filmed in the Cask and Barrel bar

Availability (as of 2024): outside all day, inside 12-24, Fri-Sat 12-1

Link on the map

Stirling:

Edinburgh cementery (S02E03) - Old Town Cemetery, Stirling

Scene: The cemetery in episode 3 was filmed at the Stirling cemetery (grave, some gravestones, Gabriel's statue and the crypt has been added by the crew for the shooting)

Availability (as of 2024): all day

Link on the map

AC and Elspeth going through Edinburgh (S02E03) – Broad Street, Stirling

Scene: Aziraphale, Crowley and Elspeth going through Edinburgh while Aziraphale is trying to persuade her that she could do something else

Availability (as of 2024): street all day

Link on the map

Meeting Wee Morag (S02E03) - Mar's Wark, Stirling

Scene: The small corridor behind the gate where Wee Morag is staying

Availability (as of 2024): The front all day, the corridor if not through the gate then hopefully from the other side

Link on the map

Others in Scotland:

AC drinking whiskey with Mr Darlymple and the corridor to Mr Darlymple (S02E03) – Hopetoun House, Queensferry

Scene: Aziraphale and Crowley drinking whisky with Mr Darlymple while he explains why he needs fresh dead bodies also at the house has been filmed the corridor reading to Mr Darlymple

Availability (as of 2024): Hopetoun is visitable, Friday 29 March 2024 to Sunday 29 September 2024 Open 5 days per week (Thursday – Monday) from 11am to 5pm, £13.50 for an adult ticket for House and Grounds (to see both), or £13.50 for Grounds (to see the corridor)

Link on the map

The Windmill Theatre in 1941 (S02E04) - Hippodrome Cinema, Bo'ness

Scene: The theatre that Crowley delivered the broken alcohol to and Aziraphale performed the bullet catch

Availability (as of 2024): You can visit the cinema for a movie or an event https://www.hippodromecinema.co.uk/whats-on/

Link on the map

Soho and more (S2) - The Pyramids Studio, Bathgate

Scene: The S2 Soho has been built in the Bathgate studio, also there were built and shot many other scenes

Availability (as of 2024): It is not available to visit for public

Link on the map

London:

Possibly only streets were filmed and the Bentley was added with VFX.

C on the way to A after A calls him (S02E01) - Wardour Street, London

Scene: Crowley on the way to Aziraphale after Aziraphale calls him (to tell him about Gabriel)

Availability (as of 2024): street all day

Link on the map

C rushing to A after Beelzebub's visit (S02E01) - Regent Street St James's, London

Scene: Crowley rushing to Aziraphale after Beelzebub told with that anyone who will be find helping Gabriel will be dealt with extreme sanctions

Availability (as of 2024): street all day

Link on the map

Whew! This masterpost took me several weeks, hope you enjoyed it and it might help you plan your trip to see the Good Omens places! :) ❤ 🐍😊 Wahoo! :)

#good omens #bts #filming locations #fun fact #masterposts #filming locations masterpost #long post

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callingcxrd · 2 years

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In regards to the name post BTW my chosen name is Rogue Balliett in case anyone was curious

#Legally I would be Roger though which I do also like fortunately ndjkhnd #Bleu.txt #Also I didn't go with an O middle initial because I decided I like Weiss instead #I literally just realised my initials are now the first part of that one anime (?) now (That's coincidence and I've never seen it NJGKDNJG)

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astrosky33 · 6 months

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𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐘 𝐎𝐁𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐁𝐘 𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐊𝐘

🗺 Mercury and Uranus lines can show where your online/internet friends live

🗺 Often you’ll grow up near your Moon lines (not always but I’ve noticed this a lot in my readings)

🗺 Living near a Moon IC line can be positive but I wouldn’t recommend moving to one if it happens to be paired with a Pluto/Saturn line because this can cause challenges with your emotions such as depression

🗺 Your Chiron lines can show locations in past lives where karmic wounds were created and where you can go to heal karmic wounds

🗺 Having Venus lines in the middle of the ocean can indicate meeting lovers on cruises or flights

🗺 Living under a Pluto line will change you into a whole different person and change your life. When you leave you will not be the same as when you got there (I personally don’t recommend living under these lines long term however, these can be positive and important transformations if you stay here short term - maybe a couple years max)

🗺 Mars lines can sometimes show locations where we are prone to danger/injuries or just may feel really unsafe at

🗺 The circles on your astrocartography lines (also called zeniths) show where the energy of the line is most heavily felt. Except for the circle with the + in the middle, that’s a part of fortune symbol

🗺 Your South Node lines can show where you lived in a past live - note: these can only be seen on AstroGold which I’m pretty sure is only on the MacBook

🗺 Often people who are MEGA famous (not just regular famous) and are known worldwide will have a Pluto line running through the middle of the US; examples ↴

BUY AN ASTROCARTOGRAPHY READING

MY MASTERLIST

SUB TO MY PATREON

#astrology #astro community #zodiac #astro placements #astrology tumblr #astro chart #birth chart #astrocartography #astrocartography observations #astrology observations

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pearlywritings · 1 month

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A slip of the tongue

synopsis: as smart as Alhaitham is, sometimes he blurts out things without thinking twice. It's good, however, that your husband knows when an apology is due, even though it doesn't mean you (and your friend) won't come up with something to pay him back with~

pairing and characters: Alhaitham x fem!reader

tw: established relationship (marriage), little hurt/instant comfort, a bit suggestive, Kaveh is lowkey couple's marriage counselor

word count: 3.7k+ words

a/n: wow, finally releasing this one out of the basement!

Your cheek starts hurting from how long the knuckles of your fist have been digging into it. Fingertips drum on your knee, as legs stay crossed and stare fixed on the figure before you, sitting on the chair across the table and not taking the eyes off of the book pages. The most infuriating part of it? The figure is talking.

"...and so you should be prepared for Rajkumar's endless questions. He might not have any relation to Haravatat or languages at all, but he has a bone to pick with me, so being my wife puts you in a position to attack. And you know how annoying it is to converse with an idiot."

Yeah, probably as much as hearing what you are already aware of. You love your husband, you truly do, but sometimes the urge to smack the back of his head and tell him to shut up is too tempting.

All you said was that you were a little nervous and mentioned that tomorrow is indeed one of the most important days for you. After all, you are going to defend your second thesis, one you spent years to complete and pass all sorts of verification, reviews and censorship. Having the Scribe as your husband had both its perks and drawbacks in the process - he could easily push your work forward to the necessary people in charge of all the mentioned above stages of approbation, but then the fact he was your spouse put a label on you for those who were aware, and it said “Needs to be examined more thoroughly”. Though come to think of it, it’s pretty illogical.

Fortunately you never had troubles with that - after all your brain was in place, and both topics of your first and now current papers were innovative. Moreso, many of your Haravatat professors agree on your academic success and some of them expressed their hope to see you in the role of their colleague in the future.

But it’s for the future. First you need to become the Dastur, and for that you need to defend your thesis in the present. You have absolutely everything ready, no one knows your topic better than you are (maybe only Alhaitham can come close, since he read and reread it multiple times, helping with editing and providing impartial perspective), and years at the Akademyia taught you how to withstand the piercing eyes and prickling words of the jury. You will be fine.

Or you thought so, before just one phrase of yours started this whole exchange that is now happening in your kitchen.

“...and remember the part in the third chapter we discussed with you. This will be the one they’ll claw at, since it’s a turning point in a whole theory and I heard some of them already criticizing it,” the male hums, turning another page, eyes scanning the words written on a yellowed from time piece of paper. This seems the last comment of his, as he falls silent, reaching for the cup of coffee you’ve made him - in the process of which you were short-sighted to voice your concern.

When a minute passes and you do not answer anyhow to any of the valuable advice he’s just given you, Alhaitham lowers his book and stares at you. You keep drumming your fingers on your knee, eyes boring into him and almost unblinking, and it’s not hard for such an observant man to notice a barely-veiled displeasure in your tired eyes and a scowl.

"You know you could've just said you are worried about tomorrow too, and leave it at that?"

Alhaitham blinks, hand frozen in the middle of lowering the mug back on the table. He is holding your gaze and you can practically see the thoughts running through his mind, he is clearly contemplating how to answer your bold statement.

“Why would I be worried?” He finally answers with a question on your own, putting the mug on the flat surface. “It’s just a thesis defense, and if you get rid of your nervousness you’ll see that you already have the Dastur title in your pocket. Tomorrow is just a formality for you.”

“So you are not coming to watch me tomorrow?” Your scowl and frown deepens, fingers stopping abusing your knee and curling in a fist instead. Your husband sighs, marking the page with a bookmark you’ve made for him and closing the volume he’s been on for the past week. Then his captivating eyes are back on you.

“Scribe isn’t required to attend. Besides-”

“Yeah, yeah, you know my work enough to not hear anything new in my presentation,” you interrupt him and he can clearly hear rising anger in your voice that wasn’t there before. It actually manages to shut him up. “As my husband, as my support, are you going to come?”

The man feels a twinge of guilt in his heart. He always prided himself of his intelligence and attentiveness, yet just now he failed to assume what exactly you expected of his presence. Of course he’d want to give you a peace of mind by being there, but it seems he is too used to uttering the same phrase every single time someone asks him to come, that it was out faster than he had a moment to think it over properly.

He sees a bit too late how your face drops when he doesn’t give you an answer immediately - it looks like his pause appeared to be hesitance to you. He slightly panics when you lower your gaze and move to uncross your legs to stand up, having an almost iron grip on the back of the chair.

“Wait- Dear, I will come,” at that your eyes flicker at him, with doubt on display in your beautiful orbs. “I promise, I’ll be there.”

“I thought you didn’t like to be around idiots the whole day,” you huff, crossing your arms, reminding him of how unflattering his words towards some of his colleagues were. You do not mean to act childish, but tomorrow is really important to you, and obviously you’d want to have your husband be there to share it with you.

Alhaitham puts the book aside and stands up as well, rounding the table and coming closer to you. His fingers deftly touch your elbow, and you will yourself not to jerk it, some annoyance still bubbling in your system.

“That is correct. However, you are not one of them,” he murmurs, caressing your arm. You huff again, but this time your posture is more relaxed. “Besides, all you need is to be confident, and if my presence can assure you that, then I’ll be more than happy to be there for you.”

You give him a long stare. Your drilling eyes to his bewitching ones, searching for the truth in the greenish depths, while he stands still, waiting patiently, expecting your verdict silently. It’s as your frown softens, he knows you’ve found what you’ve been looking for in this kind of staring contest.

“Maybe just as quick you are switching from fuming to forgiving,” his palms are warm as they slide up your arms, featherly resting on your shoulders. Your smile widens a little and you meet him in the middle when he leans to press his forehead to yours.

“Oh Archons, Alhaitham…” You shake your head with a small smile and the man feels relief washing over him. You are no longer mad at him. At least, it seems so. That is definitely good. “We’ve been married for years and it still surprises me how you can be a jerk - affectionately - one moment, and a completely sweet guy another.”

“Yeah, yeah… But to your credit you were quick to fix your attitude, and as long as it’s sincere, I am grateful.”

Or rather realizing when an apology is due.

“It is sincere,” he says with emphasis. “You know I am not the one to change my mind lightly.

You hum, content with his answer. Yet, a mischievous glint finds its place in your eyes.

“Even though you are forgiven, I am still complaining to Kaveh about the mean and heartless husband of mine.”

“Don’t worry, he won’t be glaring at you murderously. Much.”

“Of course you are,” he rolls his eyes, but you know it’s playful. He knows it too, and the shift in the mood is apparent, and he is thankful for its course to the positive destination. “I guess it’s deserved.”

Alhaitham only sighs at your giggles. He could care less of what the blond architect would say about him, so he’ll survive some annoyed buzzing from the senior, and if the little exchange which is about to occur makes you happy - he doesn’t mind. Plus it will be good for you to take your mind off of tomorrow.

“I’ll trust you on that,” he finally says, slowly leaning back. You smile, patting the back of his hand still resting on your shoulder in reassurance. With a promise to collect you from your ‘girlish talk’ (you swat his shoulder at that) in a couple of hours, your husband helps you to make a new pot of tea. It’s quite ironic that this one is gonna be emptied while he’s the main focus of the conversation.

Minutes later, when you leave the kitchen with a tray, Alhaitham can faintly hear the knocks on the other end of the house, and the door opening not a minute later, the voice of the man you two have been housing for months coming clear and concerned. Kaveh remained your friend even when he and Alhaitham got in a horrible fight over their beliefs and you were partially the reason why the Haravatat graduate was convinced to let the blonde stay. Though loud, flamboyant and snarky, there is some perks of having him around - even if the architect always complains how he didn’t sign up to be a marriage counselor, he’s never let you or your husband be in a conflict for long (fortunately it happened really rarely), being your shoulder to tear up on or begrudgingly becoming an ear to be talked of by the other man and the foot that would kick Alhaitham into action or the hand that would gently nudge you in the right direction.

Or, just like tonight, simply be ‘your girl’ to chat with.

Alhaitham, as promised, lets you be for a couple of hours, meanwhile busying himself with his book. To outsiders this scene may appear weird and paint the Scribe in an awful light as a husband - but it is just like that with this man. And the strange dynamic the three of you have while staying under one roof: a wife, a husband and their… loquacious canary-like-therapist.

Only when it’s close to the time you usually go to sleep, does he also end up before the door of Kaveh’s temporary room, and firmly knocks three times.

“What?” Unsurprisingly it's the blonde’s voice, and by the tone of it he is pissed. The ash-haired male chooses to ignore him.

“Darling, let’s go to bed,” he calls for you softly.

Alhaitham hears shuffling and muffled curses the architect surely prepared for him and some short, but incomprehensible conversation happening between you two. Not a moment later though, the door opens revealing your face, and your husband can’t help but feel extra weight lifted off his shoulders. No line reappeared between your eyebrows, no pout and no distress is written on your face. Quite the contrary, when your eyes meet, you give him the same warm smile you graced him with back in the kitchen.

“Sure, let’s go. It’s quite late already and we need to wake up early tomorrow,” you hum, exiting the room. Through the gap Alhaitham spots Kaveh sitting over some blueprints with two mugs on the table and a chair placed on the opposite side of the fine piece of furniture. When the architect lifts his eyes to glare at him, the Scribe slams the door closed. To your bedroom you returned with arms linked.

The silence of your shared space is comforting and is only disturbed by your light steps and rustle of changed clothes. The Scribe glances at you every two minutes, still a tiny bit concerned about that animatic exchange you had back in the kitchen.

“You know I will come, right?” The man suddenly asks you, as you’re fluffing the pillows. Your eyes slightly widen for a brief moment, so quickly that he almost misses it, but then they soften again as you chuckle.

“Yes, I know, dear. Sorry I reacted the way I did initially. It seems I really was pent up after all.”

“I could tell. You looked like you could bite my head o- ow!” He gasps when you throw your pillow into his face, which he catches at the last second.

“Oh, shut it, or I might get mad again,” but there is no anger in your eyes, only hardly veiled mischief. He drops your weapon of choice back onto bed and raises his hands in defense.

“Okay, okay, point taken. Any way I can make it up to you?”

At that your eyes strangely glint, and the scholar can’t place his finger on what exactly feels off about it. But it does.

“Actually you can. I’d like you to wake me up when you do, and let me use the shower first.”

And that’s it? Well, odd, but not disturbingly odd. Surely you wouldn’t go as far as to play some pranks on him by mixing something in his shampoo - you are way too intelligent for that. Also not one for revenge.

“Of course. I will wake you when I do so myself, and let you use the bathroom first.”

Even if the mornings are not Alhaitham’s forte, he still opens his eyes disgustingly early, so sleeping for a bit more while you are at your morning routine sounds nice. Not as nice as doing it with you in his arms, but still quite nice.

“Thank you, dear. Now, if you are going to read-”

“Not tonight. You need sleep,” to that you smile warmly, crawling under the blankets, which he is quick to follow. You do not deny his embrace, and willingly scoot closer, extending an arm to put around his waist, as he does the same. Nor you turn away from a kiss he places on your forehead, pecking his chin in response.

“Good night, Alhaitham.”

“Good night, Y/n.”

True to his word, your husband pulls you out of the dreamland just moments later after exiting it himself. Cerulean eyes drink in your sleepy face contorting in displeasure, arms reaching over your head, and body arching in a morning stretch. He can’t help himself, leaning close and pressing a kiss just above the hem of your chemise, relishing the feeling of your heart thumping against his lips. You yawn, reaching a hand into his hair, but your breath hitches, when his mouth is suddenly on your throat, peppering it with soft pecks.

“Mmm… If you are trying to make up for yesterday you are a bit late,” your groggy voice is so adorable to the man. With you he tends to forget how to rationalize things. Yesterday was one of the times when his ‘Alhaitham for anyone else but his wife’ slipped into his interaction with you, the behavior he’s been trying for years to suppress when it comes to you. Now he knows he should’ve acted differently, and regrets his unique way of trying to give you reassurance. If only he-

“Are you overthinking again?”

Your question makes him emerge back to reality. Eyes meet, and his heart skips a beat when you smile at him. Archons, you are beautiful.

“You know I am joking? Yesterday was yesterday, and you are already making it up to me, right?”

Words can’t describe how much he loves you, and at this moment he feels like he’ll never be able to express it fully.

“Right. Shower is all yours. Also,” he leans in again, placing a kiss on the corner of your mouth, “good morning.”

Your smile gets wider and you wrap your arms around his frame to kiss his cheek.

“Morning, Haitham.”

With you gone to the shower, the man buries himself in your pillow, inhaling the lingering scent. Sometimes he thinks he doesn’t deserve you. Your husband is intelligent enough to evaluate his own deeds and behavior, so he knows he is far from perfect to be someone’s partner. Yet, here you are, loving and accepting all his flaws - not without some complaint, but you are trying.

He might come off as arrogant to some people, but in arguments with you, he can tell when it’s his fault and not blame you for giving him a cold shoulder and requesting some space. He might look like he doesn’t care, but he cares for you, for your well-being, for your likes and dislikes, for your opinion, carefully storing all this valuable information in his brain, to show how much you mean to him. He is aware he has a long road ahead of him to get rid of all of his annoying conversing habits, but he is willing to keep trying for you. He seems to not show gratitude to anyone, but he is so grateful that you remain by his side, going as far as telling him you are proud to be his wife.

He wants you to know that it’s mutual.

That being said, Alhaitham is a smart man, but when he himself exits the bathroom after his shower time, his brain is reduced to just one thought.

You are absolutely gorgeous.

His gaze is chained to your pretty fingers, rolling the long, dark green stocking up your left leg. His throat bobs, when the elastic hem of it snaps against your skin, squeezing the flesh of your thigh a little. Then you take the second one, elegantly lifting the other leg and repeating the taunting process, but this time he is here to watch it from the beginning to the very end.

You happily hum, observing your work, and, satisfied, get on your feet, adjusting the band of your panties a little. Archons, you are wearing a matching set of the richest green shade. Lace leaves little to imagination, as his eyes flicker up to your chest, noting the pretty, natural swell of it and the outline of your nipples, and then down, as you turn around and bend to grab the shirt from the bed, demonstrating to him your ass and thighs.

His hand almost reaches out to touch you, to get a hold of the round globe, to sink his lithe fingers in your flesh. After all, your husband is not above earthly pleasures.

But your voice snaps him out of it.

"My love, if you keep standing like this in the middle of the room with just a towel on and no intention to dress, you might be late for breakfast," you chide him not even turning around and throw on the shirt, hiding the bra and some of the lower half, yet still leaving a bit of an appetizing view for an eye.

Alhaitham wills himself to tear the almost burning gaze away from you and redirect it to his own clothes, already prepared and neatly hanging on a chair. You mischievously smile as he takes a step to move past your figure. He's kept alarmingly silent and you are dying to know what reaction he has for your little plan.

The man has just a second to react when you abruptly turn around and stumble into him. Big palms instantly grab your hips to steady you against his chest, and the heart quickens at the feeling of soft lace under his fingertips, peeking from beneath the hem of the shirt he accidentally crumpled in the process. Your hands on his chest are so warm, put out just in time to catch yourself, and Alhaitham finds himself thinking of how would've it felt if your chests collided - maybe the thin material of the only layer of clothes you have on paired with some flimsy bra would not make any difference from direct skin to skin contact?

"Ah, sorry, 'haithy," you sheepishly smile up at him, eyes soft and staring innocently, "Are you alright? I haven't heard you speak ever since you left for the shower…"

Archons, please, don't let his voice betray him.

"I'm," he quickly clears his throat, "alright. Was just about to start dressing."

You hum, pushing onto his pectorals to move away and continue with your own - though slightly changed - routine, but strong fingers flex, keeping you in place by the sheer hold on your hips. You look at him inquiringly, ignoring how the very tips of his thumbs just barely slip under the thin material of your panties to caress your hip bones. It's almost an absentminded action.

"What's with this lingerie?" He finally drops the question swirling on his tongue ever since he first laid his eyes on the tantalizing sight. It's hard to hold back a smirk - you admit you were a bit doubtful if it'd actually grab your husband's attention. Who knew the stoic man was into it…

"Oh, this?" Nonchalantly you tug on the collar of your shirt and Alhaitham sharply inhales upon catching a glimpse of your barely covered breast again. "Do not worry, habibi, it is not to seduce you," he is not that sure about it.

Taking his hands in yours, you pry them off of your body and put them back to his sides, gracing his waist just above the towel with your touch. He shivers.

"I know it's different from what I usually wear, especially to work," you admit, turning around again, to grab the robes of the Akademyia's scholar. "But I really-really loved this one I purchased a couple of weeks ago on that outing with the girls. I feel so beautiful in it," fuck, you are. "And today is a special day. Want to have some confidence, you know?"

And as the rest of your body disappears under the long article of clothing, Alhaitham is finally aware of what this whole thing is about.

It's going to be an agonizingly endless day, where the only thing he can do is watch.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x fem!reader #alhaitham #genshin impact fluff

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apomaro-mellow · 5 months

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Every Baby Needs a Daddy

Part 1/?

Modern au rock star!Eddie & sugar baby!Steve; alpha!Eddie/omega!Steve

Fall was in full swing and a chill was officially in the air at all times. Most especially as the sun started to go down. Eddie was warm in his leather jacket but for a brief moment his heart went out to the guy standing outside the bar, arms bare to the wind. He was dressed in a striped polo shirt and jeans, not quite what one might see in a dive bar like this.

But he was probably waiting for someone, so Eddie went inside without another thought, catching just the smallest whiff of his scent as he walked by. An omega. He was definitely waiting for someone then. No one kept their omega idling for long. Once inside, Eddie took his shades off, the lights low enough to keep most from recognizing him.

It helped that he was flying solo tonight. No band members or bodyguards in sight. It was nice to be anonymous sometimes. Not that fame and fortune ever got tiring, it was just a good change of pace. He posted up to the bar, ordered a beer, and got comfortable. He was right in the middle of a conversation with another patron about the current season's fishing prospects when that scent washed over him again something like lavender and petrichor.

Although, when Eddie looked over, that second part might've just been the scent of actual rain. The omega from outside was sitting next to him. The tops of his shoulders and head were damp.

"Was wonderin' when you'd come in and grace us with your presence", the bartender said.

The omega simply rolled his eyes and didn't order anything. Eddie saw him shiver and without thinking, took off his jacket and placed it over his shoulders. He realized what he'd done when the other man froze.

"Sorry you just looked cold and maybe you were but I shouldn't've just done something like that I can-I can take it back", he reached out.

"No", the omega held onto the jacket. "No, it's fine. I was cold. Thank you."

"I uh, saw you outside. Boyfriend making you wait?" Eddie inwardly cringed. He meant to be more subtle than that. Meant to say something anything else.

"Don't have one." The omega got a strange look as he finally looked Eddie square in the face. "Have I...seen you somewhere before? Sorry", he shook his head and let out a breath of laughter. "What I line. I swear I'm not-I'm not trying to come on to you or anything, I just know I've seen you on like tv or something."

Eddie couldn't judge on pick up lines after what he said about a boyfriend. "You...you might've." He looked around and contemplated for just a second before he continued. "Ever heard of Corroded Coffin?"

"They're a band, right? That's where I know you from?"

Eddie grinned. "Yeah, that's where." He could tell this guy just barely recognized him and that it wasn't an act.

"God, Dustin would kill me. I can hear him now. Sorry, I'm probably not the kind of fan you like running in to."

"I'll take polite conversation over groveling any day. So do you know any of the member's names?"

"I know there's the guy Dustin likes the most because he can play drums and the bass. He admires talented people like that. And he goes on and on about this Eddie guy, but I can never remember which one-you?"

"Me, handsome", Eddie grinned. "And your name?"

"Steve. But I also answer to 'handsome'."

Steve. Eddie had to taste it on his tongue. "Steve. And were you waiting for Dustin before the rain brought you in?"

Steve smiled now, adjusting Eddie's jacket across his shoulders. "No, I wasn't really waiting for anyone. And before you ask, Dustin is definitely not my boyfriend. I'm completely untethered." Steve ran a hand through his hair, not so damp anymore after they had been talking.

"You gonna order something or keep taking up space at my bar?", the bartender asked.

"What's your poison, Steve?"

"Oh, I can't pay you back", Steve said.

"Then don't. Order something."

"I mean I really can't pay you back, Eddie. I was hanging around outside because I...because I'm between paychecks right now. And I'm not that kind of omega." Steve's shoulders hunched up in shame and he looked like he was about to remove Eddie's jacket.

"I didn't say you were. You don't have to pay me like that. I take many forms of compensation. Including sparkling dialogue with gorgeous men."

"Really?", Steve asked, voice flat in disbelief.

"Really."

Steve turned to the bartender. "Whiskey sour please."

Eddie smiled. "So, what's your opinion on farmed fish versus wild caught?"

---------------------------

Steve had been going through the worst day of his life. Work had been awful and he had wanted to scream. He ran out so quick that he forgot his jacket and was already halfway home when he remembered. He kept going. He wasn't going back there today. He got to his apartment, ready to fill his empty stomach with something only to find he was devoid of food.

Of course. He'd cleaned himself out with his last heat and hadn't gone grocery shopping since. He'd been eating out for the past week. And if he checked his bank account....

$10.43

And pay day wasn't for another three days. Steve was desperate. It was plenty of money if he went to the convenience store right outside his apartment. But the cashier there always gave him odd looks and he just didn't have the energy for it. He contemplated sending someone in to buy his stuff, but he wasn't feeling very trusting right now.

Which was how he ended up at the bar. The dollar store would've been an option last week, but it was a couple of miles away and his car was in the shop. He didn't even know what his plan was. Buy the cheapest drink and fill up on pretzels and nuts? It was why he was standing outside as the sun got lower, just feeling sorry for himself.

He just wished someone would take pity on him. Would see how hard he had been working and told him it was okay, he could take a break now and they'd take care of him.

Hell would probably freeze over first though.

Then the rain started and he couldn't waste time out here any longer. At least inside the bar, it was warm. Steve already wasn't looking forward to the walk home. What if it was still raining? He couldn't afford to get sick right now. He sat at the only empty seat at the bar and thought of the least pathetic way to ask for a cheap drink when something warm came over him.

It smelled of ginger and cinnamon and for a moment, Steve was drowning in it when he heard the owner of the jacket try to apologize for it and then take it back. Instinctively, Steve held onto it tighter.

"No, no, it's fine. I was cold. Thank you."

The alpha next to him said something about a boyfriend that Steve barely registered but figured out by context what he was asking.

"Don't have one." He shook his head and then actually looked the alpha up and down. Curly hair spilled over his shoulders and he looked smaller without the leather jacket that was currently over his own shoulders. There was something oddly familiar about him. Like he'd seen that face on his social media feed or something.

When Steve asked, he realized he was talking to a guy in Dustin's favorite band. He felt like an idiot. This guy was probably used to starstruck fans bowing at his feet and here Steve was, just treating him like a nobody. But try as he might, Steve couldn't pretend like he was some big deal, even imagining Dustin's lecture on proper celebrity sighting etiquette later didn't change things.

Then the alpha, Eddie his name was Eddie, introduced himself and then asked for his name, tacking on a compliment at the end of the question.

"Steve. But I also answer to 'handsome'." He couldn't help being a little hungry for some positive attention right now.

Then Eddie asked a very unsubtle question about Dustin, insinuating that he was some kind of boyfriend and Steve wanted to laugh. The little kid he had babysat that had been like the pain in the ass brother he never asked for definitely wasn't that. And he let Eddie know that.

"Dustin is definitely not my boyfriend. I'm completely untethered." He didn't know why he said it like that. He might as well have spread his legs and held up a sign that said 'open for business'. This guy was a literal rock star, he must have lustful groupies throwing themselves at him all the time. Wording it like that absolutely wasn't Steve intention. Even if his scent was so comforting and intoxicating.

Then the bartender urged them to order something and Steve felt his empty stomach drop. Eddie insisted on buying him a drink and Steve really wished he had the money for it because there was no way he was paying in any other way. And if Eddie was expecting that, he'd just as soon go back out into the rain, leaving the warm jacket behind.

"You don't have to pay me like that. I take many forms of compensation. Including sparkling dialogue with gorgeous men."

Steve searched his face for a bluff, any sign of dishonesty. But he saw none.

"Really?"

"Really."

So Steve ordered just as Eddie asked him something about fishing and clearly this night was not going to go the way he planned.

--------------------------

Eddie was halfway through his second drink and knee deep in a conversation about the pros and cons of fishing compared to hunting. Apparently Steve's dad took him out hunting before he presented and afterward, his grandfather took him out on a couple of fishing trips.

"One just seems more fair, is all I'm saying", Steve said, still nursing his first drink. "One has you sneaking up on an unsuspecting animal. The other one you're just luring them. Fish know what they're getting into. Deer don't until they're already in your sights."

"You think very highly of fish intelligence", Eddie noted.

"I once had a year long beef with a friend's pet fish. Long story. But fish are smarter than they look." Then Steve's stomach growled. Very loudly. Embarrassingly loud.

"I don't know about you, but all this fish talk is making me hungry", Eddie said. "Can I buy you dinner?"

"I suppose I've got about twenty bucks worth of more conversation in me", Steve smiled, appreciating what Eddie was offering.

Eddie paid the tab and Steve put his arms into the jacket, then remembered Eddie might want it since it was cold outside. "Did you want-"

"Keep it on. I run hot anyway and we just need to make it to my car." That was a lie, Eddie had the circulation of a failing newspaper but he liked the look of Steve in his jacket too much to give it up. And the rain had stopped so now it was just damp and cold outside.

Steve thought he should feel wary of getting into a car with a stranger, especially a famous one. But he had his phone on him and Eddie was taking him to a place with a lot of people, so it was fine. Eddie put his sunglasses on as they went inside and asked for a table in the back, which the person up front gladly accommodated.

"Not to toot my own horn", Eddie said as they were seated. "But I can never tell when and where I'll get recognized. And I don't want any tabloids tomorrow morning." Because right now, Steve didn't just look like some random guy that Eddie was wining and dining. Right now, he looked like he belonged to Eddie.

"Got any funny stories?", Steve asked.

Eddie grinned and rolled his shoulders as he got comfortable in his seat. "Well, there was the one time I was literally in a tv studio about to be interviewed with the band and someone thought I was the boom guy."

"If I was dressing up on Halloween as a boom guy, I think I'd put on this general look", Steve said, gesturing to Eddie's whole body.

"And there was the time I got recognized while at a fabric store. I'm standing in line, basket full of sewing supplies and a bunch of floral fabrics, and this woman in her sixties asks for my autograph."

"Aren't you in a metal band?"

"Yeah and some of our most hardcore fans are women over 40", Eddie said. "Don't underestimate 'em."

A waiter came by and took their orders and they kept talking. Steve couldn't believe how badly his day had started because now it felt like he was flying above the clouds. Eddie actually seemed interested in what he had to say. And Steve was constantly thrown by the different directions Eddie took the conversation. From fishing, to getting recognized stories, to horrible customers, to the perils of sailing a boat.

"Never?"

"I remember going once as a kid and was scared shitless the whole time", Steve said. "Whoever decided it was okay for me to watch Titanic in kindergarten really messed me up."

"So besides that one time you've never been on a boat?", Eddie asked.

"My parents tried getting me on a yacht once and I started hyperventilating on the dock. I stayed on the boardwalk", Steve said. Just one of the many ways he'd been a disappointment.

After the meal, Eddie offered to drive Steve home. He wanted to. But after drinks and food and talking to Eddie for so long about nothing at all, Steve felt cautious. Had his guard lowered? If he let Eddie see him to his door, would Eddie be expecting something? What made him even more hesitant was that he might let Eddie get away with it.

He was handsome and charming and had alleviated Steve's worries for a few hours. He was even going home with some leftovers in a box. For a second, Steve wondered if food was all it took.

"Hey, look, I understand if you don't want some strange alpha taking you home. What about if I just order you a ride?", Eddie suggested.

"You can take me home", Steve said quickly. "Just don't expect any dessert."

Before leaving, Eddie excused himself to use the restroom and Steve used that opportunity to do something that was probably really stupid. It was certainly pointless. But he could take a risk every now and then. He tore off a piece of the menu and used a pen at the podium up front and that was how Eddie found him.

"Ready to go?"

"Ready", Steve smiled.

The car ride was a little more quiet, both of them digesting both the food and what had happened tonight. Meeting a stranger that you clicked with, it didn't happen every day. Steve gave him his address and Eddie pulled up to the building.

"You should walk me up", Steve said. "Make sure I get there safe."

"Y-yeah, I can do that", Eddie stuttered, struggling with his seatbelt while Steve was already out of the car.

Eddie followed him to his apartment, glad now for the chill outside because otherwise he'd be sweating watching Steve's ass for so long as he walked in front of him.

"Well, this is me", Steve said.

"I had a great time tonight", Eddie said.

Steve laughed and ran a hand through his hair. "Can we come up with anymore first date lines?"

"Hmm, how's about I'd love to do this again soon?", Eddie smiled, leaning in a bit.

"I'd like that." Steve took Eddie's jacket off his shoulders.

"What if I want you to wear it for our next date?", Eddie asked.

"If you want me to wear this, you better scent it properly", Steve goaded.

Eddie pinned him against the door and smashed their mouths together. His jacket was trapped between their bodies. Steve let out a soft sound and brought a hand to Eddie's cheek.

"We can't go on a second date until the first one is over", Steve said when he pulled back. He curled a lock of Eddie's hair around his finger just because he couldn't help it.

"Your number?", Eddie asked, licking at Steve's lips.

"Check your jacket", Steve breathed.

Eddie didn't take his eyes off Steve as he went through his jacket pocket and found what Steve had been scribbling on earlier. It was a ripped piece of the menu. And it had Steve's number on it.

Part 2

If I had a nickel for every time I steddified a Marilyn Monroe song I'd have two nickels.

#apo writes #stranger things #fanfiction #steddie #a/b/o #omegaverse #okay maybe dont expect all the parts to be this long tho LOL

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peachesofteal · 6 months

Text

Simple Math / Part Two

Simple Math masterlist

Ghost/Soap/female reader 3.4k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ no smut but this fic contains mature themes. Medical inaccuracies, hospitals, medical procedures, medications, blood and injury, nurse!reader, hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort, feelings of fear, anxiety. Panic attack. Implied past abuse. Implied stalking. Deep breath.

There is blood in Johnny's eyes.

He comes to with a start, Price’s voice barking out an order, pressure and flame and blood all washing over him, pain erupting across every receptor in his brain like he’s being shredded alive.

“Bloody hell, hold him steady.”

It’s still Price, roaring over the chop-chop-chop of the helicopter blades, bloodied hands trying to keep pressure on the hole in his stomach, his side.

It burns. Everything burns, his body feels like it’s on fire, bones turning to ash inside his skin, chest being torn apart by some invisible force. He can’t get enough air. There is something shoved inside his ribs, something heavy that’s weighing his lungs down, keeping him underwater, cinderblocks tied to his feet.

He tries to move, but he can’t.

Gaz is strapping him down to a stretcher, he thinks, and when he ratchets a strap across his legs, Johnny screams in agony.

“’m sorry mate, I’m sorry.”

Where is Simon? There are faces here, but none of them are the one he needs. His LT. “W-where is Si?” He slurs, and Price frowns, leaning back over his face, calling his name.

“Johnny, Johnny. Hold still. You’re on a medevac. We’re lifting you to base.”

“Si-“

“Simon isn’t here, remember? Johnny, oi. Keep your eyes open, Sergeant.” Remember? Does he remember? He tries. Tries to place his partner’s face amongst the rubble, the blast, the screaming.

Where is Simon?

Your coffee maker sputters to life in the silence of your apartment, churning out the dark, thick, life-giving liquid, and you can’t beat back the glare that fixes your face upwards towards your neighbors, the ones who are running a marathon in their apartment at three in the afternoon.

Seriously. Is there a herd of elephants up there?

You can’t be too disappointed in them, you know. It is normal working hours. Normal daytime hours. You don’t expect your neighbors to accommodate or understand your schedule. Still, it would be nice if they were just a bit more considerate.

It’s not the end of the world, regardless. You're up now, already started your day, crawled out of bed and opened the blackout curtains to stand in the afternoon sunlight that streams through your studio apartment. You flick open your laptop as sip your morning coffee, logging into your banking app with quick efficiency, eyes roving over lists of numbers, figures adding and subtracting in your head. You’re so close to being able to move forward with the plan, the light at the end of the tunnel growing stronger and stronger, glowing bright with hope, something that once felt so impossible, so far away. You're going to make it.

It’s a hike to the train.

You’re fortunate that you only have to take one, no longer having to change once, or twice, in the middle of your commute like you used to, but now you’re walking at least twelve blocks to get there, each way.

It makes you feel very exposed.

You keep your headphones in, hood of your jacket over your head, and move within throngs of people during the trek, keeping your eyes focused on the sidewalk ahead, posture tilted just enough that you can watch the ground but still see in your peripheral. You don’t relax until you make it onto the platform, and even then, your head is on a swivel as you wait for the train to arrive, and you can melt into the mix of others. Seen, but not noticed.

Old habits die hard.

You swipe your card to proceed through the turnstile, cool metal sliding against your hands when you push forward onto the platform, settling against a pylon as you wait, flicking through the news with half interest.

The hair on the back of your neck rises.

Someone is watching you.

Your skin goes cold, ice beneath your jacket, and your lungs stutter with short breaths. Logically, you know you’re wrong. The faces that wait alongside you are not focused on anything but themselves, too busy staring at their own devices, tablets, readers, phones. A woman fidgets with a stroller, a man wearing headphones spits some corporate nonsense out loud, obnoxiously. You’ve already looked them over, too many times. He’s not here.

You lean against the tile, rocking your back into the grimy wall, fingers clutching against the edge of your phone. He’s not here. You’re safe. The dark of the tunnel mocks you, laughs with his voice, its circular opening growing teeth like his, ready to devour you, drag you back to hell, swallow you whole and keep you there.

He's not here. You’re safe. He doesn’t know where you are. Deep breath.

You breathe the words deep, counting the time of your inhales and exhales until the brakes of the train are squeaking and squealing to a stop, doors opening with a hiss. Everyone moves in tandem, an amoeba inching towards the same goal, get off, get on, and you go with it, pressing inside and shuffling towards the back, angling your body outwards, molded into a corner so tight your shoulders touch the walls of the train.

Deep breath.

“Hey, you’re early!” The nurse you’re relieving smiles brightly at you, blonde hair pulled high in a scrunchie, stickers all over her badge and ID.

“Yeah, wanted to get caught up on some admin stuff but I’ve got it, if you want to…” you motion with your head, the universal signal of ‘if you want to leave’ without saying it out loud, lest you jinx it, and the place goes to chaos in the next five minutes. She nods eagerly, launching into a run-down of your beds, who’s stable, who’s sedated, who’s still on a vent. “-and two sixty-eight is about to come down from the PACU.” Your stomach clenches with anxiety, and you check your watch.

“They took him when I left this morning…”

“Yeah, I guess there was a complication. Had to re-open his chest, put in a new tube. Poor guy, he’s battered all to shit. Did you see the scans of his femur? It’s literally in pieces.” She sighs. “His partner is in the surgical waiting room, told him the next shift nurse would come find him when he could come back to the room.” Your anxiety heightens, and an alarm bell goes off in the back of your mind as you think about Simon, pacing back and forth upstairs, and Johnny, alone in the PACU, probably coming out sedation, terrified. What is wrong with you?

“I hear those guys are like black ops or something.” Nia, the nurse who’s worked the last three rotations with you, comments over your shoulder as she drops her bag in the pit. You raise an eyebrow skeptically. Black ops? You shiver. “They air-lifted him from a military base that’s doesn’t even exist on a map. Cass and I checked.”

“Really?” The dayshifter perks up, interested, and you hold your hands out in caution.

“Okay, okay. Let’s not speculate.” You tap your number into the tablet, reading through charts and noting updates. A little green circle with an arrow through it blinks next to Johnny’s, signifying that he’s about to be moved. “Besides, he’s been through hell. Clearly. Let’s have a little, ya know. Respect?” They all cluck, rolling their eyes and groaning, but they shut up, and Nia gives you a little grin. You might not be the charge nurse, but you were the perma-night shifter on this floor, and the one with the most seniority in this moment.

“Alright, well. You got this?” Dayshift asks, and you wave her off.

“Goodnight.”

“You’re the best. Bye ladies!”

Simon is easy to find. He’s wearing the exact same clothes from yesterday, black cloth mask still covering half his face, hoodie pulled up over his head. He looks less exhausted, but no less anxious, dark circles still present under his eyes, body language tense. He looks… scared.

He spots you just as easily, shooting to his feet when he sees you coming, hands clenched together in anticipation, and you motion to the chair, placing yourself next to him, turning slightly to ensure you’re giving him your undivided attention.

He shifts in the seat, legs spreading out against the stiff frame, and his knee bumps yours, warmth radiating beneath denim bleeding into your scrubs. If he notices or cares about the contact, he doesn't say anything, only blinks at you in anticipation. His head tilts before you start speaking, and your skin heats when you realize he’s looking you over, eyes tracing you from head to toe before pinning you in place with a focused scrutiny.

“Has anyone come to speak with you?” You ask, silently hoping that the surgeon actually did the last part of his job, and didn’t neglect the family member in waiting room, the one who’s holding their breath as every second ticks by.

Simon nods. “They said there was a complication with his lungs?”

“They had to plate his ribs. It will give the bleed in his chest a better chance at healing, help keep him stable. They also replaced his chest tube.” His brow furrows, and you pause. Maybe visualization will help. “Do you want to see?” You tap on the tablet, bringing up Johnny’s last imaging, scrolling through the pictures to show Simon what it looks like, pointing out the before and after CT of his chest, explaining the white vs grey spaces on the image. Simon studies it, taking the tablet in his hand, fingers tracing over the screen reverently, carefully, like he's touching Johnny himself. An ocean’s worth of emotions reflects in his gaze, despair, sadness, grief- all sitting just on the edge, nearly ready to spill over. Your heart skips a beat.

“Can I see him?”

“He’s coming down from the post-surgery unit now. I’ll have to get him resettled in his room, but I promise as soon as I can, I’ll come get you.” He twitches in the chair, rubbing the back of his neck before he huffs out something that sounds like ‘okay’, and you give him one more small smile with your ‘see you soon’.

Johnny is conscious when he comes up from the PACU, barely. His vitals look good, temperature, blood pressure, heart rate all in target ranges, and he’s due for another round of pain medication.

"Hey, Johnny." You smile down at him, sliding the lock on his bed in place and reattaching his leads carefully, gentle enough so you don't jostle him too much.

"Hi, pretty girl." He slurs, and you chuckle, instinctively rolling your eyes before patting his good hand.

“Came out of sedation fine, but he’s been a bit emotional.” The PACU nurse warns you, eyes soft with sympathy when she glances at him in the bed. “He’s asking for his partner, I think. Simon?”

“Yeah. I’ll take care of it.” You scan the post op notes, hitting all the important things, logging his last vitals check so you can administer his meds. The incision in his chest has been reopened, and then closed, and his lower body is completely immobilized in the bed, his hip pinned, femur delicately pieced back together with a plethora of plates and screws, so many you think it’s probably more metal than bone now. “How are you feeling?" You ask, heart tugging a bit at the hopelessness in his eyes. “Ready to get some more sleep?” He groans a response, words jumbled together and cracking into a sob that has tears trickling down his cheeks.

“Si..”

“He’s not back yet.” You try to explain gently, grabbing an extra blanket to put over the scaffolding around his leg. “Once I get you settled, we’ll bring him up, okay?”

“H-hurts.” He cries, vibrant blue eyes finding yours, scared, and desperate. “It h-hurts.” He’s openly crying now, shoulders starting to shake, and the monitor chimes at you, registering an increase in heart rate and blood pressure.

“I know. I know it does.” You clean his port, tracking the uptick in numbers on the screen. “Hey, hey. Shhh, it’s okay.” You try to calm him as you flush the line, pushing the saline from the side of the bed. “You’re alright. We’re almost,” You administer the medication easily, counting in your head, replacing it with another saline before reattaching his fluids line, all of the motions so second nature that it allows you keep your focus on him. “there.”

You expect him to calm down. Most patients do, but his heart rate continues to tick upwards, and his respirations don’t decrease, lungs heaving against the fresh sutures in his chest. His hand, the good one, skates across your elbow and down your forearm to grab a hold of you, fingers gripped onto yours tightly, like he’s afraid you might let go.

“It’s alright, Johnny. You’re okay.” His eyes don’t leave your face, his own jaw slack, pain meds coursing through his system. He's frightened, big blue eyes wide and anxious, and you squeeze his hand, stroking your thumb across his knuckles. “Deep breath.” You see patients upset, in pain, all the time. It’s an everyday part of your job. Even the hand holding is a necessary, frequent part of your profession.

But with Johnny, something feels different.

“It’s okay. You’re okay, just try to relax. Take some long breaths- good. That’s good.” You soothe him, rubbing soft touches into his skin. His head is turned to where you’re standing next to the bed, chest still heaving, and he winces with each exhale. “It’s just the last of the sedation, it can make you a little out of sorts. The pain meds are going to kick in real soon.” You reach over, and press the call button, twice. You can feel the pressure, the burn of his attention, his unwillingness to look away from you, and you hum out the softest words you can find, encouraging him to take calm, deep breaths.

When Nia appears, she frowns. “Everything alright?”

“Hey, yes. Could you do us a favor and go up to the surgical waiting room? Johnny’s partner Simon, is waiting to be told he can come down.” She looks from you to him, reading the situation just as you would if the roles were reversed.

“Got it.” She makes her exit, fast, and Johnny gulps, still staring up at you with bright, wet, blue eyes.

“See? She’s going to get him. Everything’s alright.” He nods, barely, starting to succumb to the medication, and you exhale, letting out some of the tension from the last few minutes.

Simon comes through the door in a whirlwind, and you immediately raise your free hand, palm out, to slow his hurried panic.

“He’s okay.” You point to where Johnny is still clutching onto you. “He was still in a fair amount of pain when he came down, and coming out of sedation can be disorientating. I think he panicked a little when he realized you weren’t here.” He nods silently, taking his place bedside, towering over both you and Johnny, leaning past you to brush his lips against Johnny's forehead in a sweet, smooth kiss.

"I'm here, sweet boy." He murmurs, voice so low you barely catch it. You step back, pulling your grasp from Johnny's, but he tightens his fingers, grip stronger than you anticipated, and you stop mid step, glancing to his partner. “I got him.” Simon reaches for where the two of you are connected, sliding his own hand overtop yours, replacing the contact before holding Johnny's hand whole. He’s so careful, lowering himself into the chair, carefully holding onto Johnny until he’s seated, bringing his palm to his mask covered lips. “I’ve got you.”

“Si.”

“I’m here Johnny. Rest.”

“Ye weren’t there.” He croaks, and Simon’s eyes shutter with a long inhale.

“I know.”

“Ah needed-“ He loses the words, dazed in a swirl of semi-consciousness. “was scared.” Simon strokes some of the hair that’s in disarray away from his forehead, smoothing his thumb back and forth above his eyebrow.

“Shhh, everything’s alright now. I’m here.”

The chair in supply closet 2b knows you well. It’s an old thing, something pulled from a patient room once it was deemed too squeaky, and too uncomfortable, shoved in here to be discarded at some point in the future.

That was months ago.

Now, it sits in a dark little corner, plastic packages of disposable PPE and gowns littered on top of it in a heap, excess supply with no place to live. Everyone takes turns in it, shifting whatever it happens to be holding that day onto the ground and settling in for what some could call a break, brief moments that could last seconds or minutes, quick opportunities to get off your feet and most importantly, not have to speak or be spoken to, for an indeterminate amount of time.

This is usually where you hide when you need a second. When there’s a lull, and the pit is full of nurses, techs, students or whoever else may have downtime, talking and laughing together, building relationships, getting to know one another. Making friends. It's a small luxury at work, to have that time, those friendships.

Luxuries someone who wants to be seen, but not noticed, not known, does not have.

You close your eyes, head tipped back against the chair.

It’s okay to be alone. You can do this. Deep breath.

Your mind floats to two sixty-eight, to Simon and Johnny. What is it like, to be loved like that? To be so fiercely cared for? Johnny’s teary, blue eyes and Simon’s soft, loving regard for him makes your stomach flip. You didn’t even know love like that was real. The only taste of love you’ve ever had left ash in your mouth, poison in your veins, and deep, deep scars across your body and soul that you’ll never be free of.

Deep breath.

Your work phone and the tablet both start to beep, a shrill noise that makes you wince, muscle memory of what it indicates making you leap from the chair.

The screen shows a red flashing symbol next to room two sixty-eight.

Johnny.

“He’s tachycardic.” You tell the tech who’s fumbling with the phone, firing off a rapid text message to the on-call for this floor. You hold Johnny’s forehead still with the heel of your hand, using a finger to flick open his eyelids one by one, flashing the pen light across his pupils. “Pupils are dilated, BP is elevated- no call him- call him right now. Do what I said, I don’t care what he told you.” You bark, glancing up at where Simon is frozen across the bed from you, grip so tight against the rail that you think it might break.

“Simon-“ He cuts you off, but you’re half paying attention to him, too busy checking the site of Johnny’s chest tube, and then moving onto the dressing on his lower abdomen, ensuring it doesn’t feel scalding to the touch.

“He was fine. He was just… sleepin' and then-“ You move around the bed, pulling the oxygen tube longer, replacing the cannula with a mask.

“Simon, I need you to step out.” You press two buttons on the machine, ensuring it’s on high flow, door sliding open with Nia’s arrival.

“No.” His refusal is steadfast.

“Simon, hey.” He lurches closer to Johnny, and on instinct, you reach out and grab his forearm, stopping him in his tracks. His eyes are wild, bleak with anguish, and his chest heaves heavily, panic radiating from his massive form. “Listen to me, listen. I’m here. I’ve got him, alright? But there are about to be five other people in this room, and we can’t work if you’re in the way.” You speak firmly, clearly, trying to get your point across as the door opens again, and the on-call attending is standing on the other side. Simon glances from him, back to you, and you nod reassuringly, swallowing the lump in your throat that forms when he latches onto your own arm, squeezing it tight. “He’s in good hands.” You tell him, nodding to the tech that’s waiting to usher him towards the hallway.

He keeps his eyes trained on Johnny, before they flick over to where you’re lowering the bed completely flat, free hand on his bicep, thumb rubbing a small semi-circle into his skin, just like you watched Simon do last night, and earlier today. He swallows, endless depths of desperation welling in his eyes, and you take a deep breath, imbuing your voice with all the strength you have.

“I’ve got him. I promise.”

#peaches writes #simple math #ghost x soap x reader #ghost x soap #ghoap x reader #ghoap #simon riley #john mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish #simon riley x reader #female reader #ghost x reader x soap #johnny soap mactavish #simon ghost riley

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