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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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totallynotcoffeeturtle · 1 month

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They’re a runner, they’re a trackstar ☆

Masterlist

(From the 6th to 30th April, I am having a mini 100 follower milestone event!)

Tags: fluff Summary: you tease wanderer by kissing him and then running away

First time it happens, Wanderer is a ball of confusion despite all of his smarts. What just happened? You run up to him in your usual golden retriever way, just suddenly kiss him in the middle of the street, mind you, and run off?? The worst thing is, you only kissed him once. Once. Where are the rest, messily placed on the rest of his face?? He huffs, he will definitely get his revenge!

By the second time that happens, Wanderer is already prepared. He already knows your tactic but despite all of his prep, you still manage to escape, leaving behind a red faced Wanderer and his many colleagues looking at him teasingly. He tries to search for you among the numerous bookshelves before finally surrendering when the alarm he set rings, calling him to return to his stack of theses waiting to be finished. Wander touches the spot where you kissed him as he sits back down.

Third time’s the charm and he finally manages to chase you down. You approached him as usual, hands behind your back and that smug little grin like your plan already worked. A quick peck before you break into a well anticipated sprint… everything would have worked out had Wanderer not immediately sprints after you. Anemo amps up his speed, leading to your defeat. You try to push him away feebly with your hands while struggling against his hold. He cackles in his typical Wanderer way before diving down for the kisses you owe him after all that teasing. Feather light kisses rain all over your face, tickling you until you respond with your own flurry of kisses.

A/N: Happy white day (this is not a white day post lol) and everyone please say happy birthday to my sister (15/3) if possible! Taglist: @amyminhminh

#genshin x reader #genshin #genshin impact #fluff #x reader #wanderer #wanderer x reader #gender neutral reader #drabble #scara x reader #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche #i swear i'm not a scara simp i just write for my bestie

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afeelgoodblog · 10 months

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The Best News of Last Week - June 20, 2023

🐕 - Meet Sheep Farm's Newest Employee: Collie Hired After Ejection from Car!

1. Border Collie ejected from car during Sunday crash found on sheep farm, herding sheep

Tilly, the 2-year-old Border Collie who was ejected from a car Sunday during a crash, has been found. He was found on a sheep farm, where he had apparently taken up the role of sheep herder.

According to Tilly's owner, he has lost some weight since Sunday's crash and is now drinking lots of water but is otherwise healthy.

2. After 17-Year Absence, White Rhinos Return to the Democratic Republic of the Congo

The Democratic Republic of the Congo (DRC) recently welcomed the reintroduction of 16 southern white rhinoceroses to Garamba National Park, according to officials. The last wild northern white rhino was poached there in 2006.

The white rhinos were transported to Garamba, which lies in the northeastern part of the country, from a South African private reserve. In the late 19th century, the southern white rhino subspecies was believed to be extinct due to poaching until a population of fewer than 100 was discovered in South Africa in 1895, according to WWF.

3. UK to wipe women’s historic convictions for homosexuality

Women with convictions for some same-sex activity in the United Kingdom can apply for a pardon for the first time, the Home Office has announced.

The Home Office is widening its scheme to wipe historic convictions for homosexual activity more than a decade after the government allowed applications for same-sex activity offences to be disregarded.

It means anyone can apply for a pardon if they have been convicted or cautioned for any same-sex activity offences that have been repealed or abolished.

4. Study shows human tendency to help others is universal

A new study on the human capacity for cooperation suggests that, deep down, people of diverse cultures are more similar than you might expect. The study, published in Scientific Reports, shows that from the towns of England, Italy, Poland, and Russia to the villages of rural Ecuador, Ghana, Laos, and Aboriginal Australia, at the micro scale of our daily interaction, people everywhere tend to help others when needed.

5. In a First, Wind and Solar Generated More Power Than Coal in U.S.

Wind and solar generated more electricity than coal through May, an E&E News review of federal data shows, marking the first time renewables have outpaced the former king of American power over a five-month period.

The milestone illustrates the ongoing transformation of the U.S. power sector as the nation races to install cleaner forms of energy to reduce greenhouse gas emissions from fossil fuels.

6. Iceland becomes latest country to ban conversion therapy

Lawmakers in Iceland on June 9 approved a bill that will ban so-called conversion therapy in the country.

Media reports note 53 members of the Icelandic Parliament voted for the measure, while three MPs abstained. Hanna Katrín Friðriksson, an MP who is a member of the Liberal Reform Party, introduced the bill.

7. The temple feeding 100,000 people a day

Amritsar, the north Indian city known for its Golden Temple and delicious cuisine, is also renowned for its spirit of generosity and selfless service. The city, founded by a Sikh guru, embodies the Sikh tradition of seva, performing voluntary acts of service without expecting anything in return.

This spirit of giving extends beyond the temple walls, as the Sikh community has shown immense compassion during crises, such as delivering oxygen cylinders during the COVID-19 pandemic. At the heart of Amritsar's generosity is the Golden Temple's langar, the world's largest free communal kitchen, serving 100,000 people daily without discrimination. Despite a history marred by tragic events, Amritsar continues to radiate kindness, love, and generosity.

----

That's it for this week :)

This newsletter will always be free. If you liked this post you can support me with a small kofi donation:

BUY ME A COFFEE ❤️

Also don’t forget to reblog.

#best news of last week

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itoshiexx · 4 months

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Hello hello~ Congratulations on 1k! I'd like to request two if that's okay?

Sae Itoshi — Forelsket (n.) - the euphoria experience when you first fall in love.

Michael Kaiser — Cafuné (n.) - running your fingers through the hair of someone you love. (Thought it'd be nice because of the old!Kaiser ahaha)

puzzle piece

you are now reading... LENA'S 1K MILESTONE EVENT FIC!

↳ itoshi sae + forelsket (n.) — the euphoria experience when you first fall in love.

synopsis: itoshi sae thought nothing could break the apathy inside his chest, but everything changed when he found himself falling in love with you.

notes: first of all, happy new year folks! i hope 2024 will be amazing for all of us, and to start off with the right foot, the first little fic of my event is here! with that being said: hello darling! thank you so much, and of course you can — i'll be posting sae's now and kaiser's later, okay? <3 hope you like it and thank you for requesting!

sae vividly remembers the first time his feet touched a football at the tender age of five. it was something curious and hesitant; as if he was scared his little body would trip and roll along the hill. but it was also like the piece of a puzzle finally fitting the right place when the ball rolled.

the feeling was the same when sae learned about football and scored his first goal — the ball flying in a perfect arch and entering the net as if it was only ever meant to be there. he was filled with the most intense excitement, pure happiness coursed through his veins, and sae just knew that was what he was meant for.

this strange euphoria appeared in other moments as well, all related to football. when he first won a championship, when he was chosen as MVP of an important match, when he signed with real madrid and got his first jersey… all of these moments gave him further confirmation that that was what he was supposed to be doing.

and then, things changed. his dream of becoming a striker was crushed at his very own feet, and football just started to lose meaning to the all mighty itoshi sae, japan’s prodigy. he no longer felt excitement or happiness when playing, and nothing in football felt like this puzzle piece fitting the right place. if he was being perfectly honest, it felt more wrong by the minute.

but just like everything changed when he came to spain, the world once again turned on its axis when sae first put his eyes on you. the wind was blowing on your hair and the sun made your pretty eyes shine with a golden layer. sae was never really the type of person who cared about romance or even thought about getting to know someone else, but just one glance was enough for him to want to know everything about you.

what did you like? what did you hate? what hurt you? there were so many questions that the midfielder wanted to know the answer for, and moreso, he wanted all of these answers to be somehow related to him.

sae wanted to be someone you liked — loved even, if he was being selfish. he’d take away everything you disliked and would protect you from anything that could cause you pain. and knowing his usual stoic self was so eager for something someone else could give and represent brought back the familiar feeling of euphoria, with sheer exhilarance coursing through his veins every time your voice greeted him with a sweet hello.

falling in love with you was like falling in love with soccer and having the certainty that this was what itoshi sae was made for. hell, even if he never played a game again in his life, it felt like everything would be fine, because he would still be following his other life purpose: loving you again and again and again. euphorically. endlessly. perpetually.

and when you kissed for the first time…

well, the puzzle piece finally fit the right place once again.

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babydollmarauders · 9 months

Text

SPEAK NOW — QUINN HUGHES

quinn hughes x fem!reader

part of the Speak Now Fic List

summary: in which y/n attends her ex-boyfriend, Quinn’s wedding and can’t hold her peace

notes: barely any dialogue. like i’m so serious, very little dialogue. also not proofread and i think i hate this but it’s fine because i don’t think i could do any better and i worked way too long on this.

it was the last thing i expected.

to receive the elegant white cardstock that sits in my hand. flowers of muted colors are printed across the bottom, cursive lettering across the top.

‘You Are Formally Invited to the Wedding of Quinn Hughes & Lindsay Carter’

it’s not that i didn’t think this day would come. quite on the contrary, i feared it would come sooner. i know firsthand how special Quinn is. i knew some lucky girl would lock him down. Quinn is the type of love that you never let go.

but i did.

i made the mistake of letting go of his love.

letting go of him.

and now i’ll be forced to watch as he marries another girl. one who provided comfort and a shoulder for him to cry on when i broke his heart. one who helped him glue the pieces back together after i left.

we had both known the risks. getting together despite the warnings of his brothers. and Jack was right.

“romance is not worth risking a lifelong friendship.”

because in the end, i lost both.

i lost the love of my life and my best friend since kindergarten.

now reduced to awkward tension at conjoined family events, and pity invites to major events like these. more awkward to invite me than it is to face me afterwards, knowing that i knew what was happening and was deliberately left out.

setting the invitation on the counter, i check yes on the guest list website on my phone. confirming that i’ll be in attendance.

despite the envy that weighs heavy in my heart, and the irrational feeling of betrayal that eats at me, i know i’ll feel worse missing this milestone in Quinn’s life.

**THREE MONTHS LATER**

i’ve had months to prepare for this moment. to guard my heart and get ready to watch the only man i’ve ever loved, get married to another woman.

and in spite of that, all i’ve done is the very thing i spent the last two years keeping myself from doing.

asking about Lindsay.

i never thought they would get this far. under the impression that this was a fling and wouldn’t last long. the only thing i knew for two years was that they were opposites.

Quinn is a responsible, down-to-earth guy, focusing on feelings and equality in relationships. whereas she was more materialistic; never attending Quinn’s games unless she was guaranteed a photo opportunity, using his card to buy luxury items, and according to Jack, constantly reminding Quinn how low he had felt before she came into his life.

and now, after asking around and learning everything i could, i can guarantee that Quinn doesn’t know half the things that i do.

i can guarantee he doesn’t know that she was a bully in high school, that that mean girl attitude never left. i can guarantee he doesn’t know that she brags to all her friends that she bagged a rich fiancé and she’ll never have to work to afford her luxury lifestyle, or that she has no issue in saying he isn’t attractive but his money makes up for it. and i know he doesn’t know she’s been sleeping with her personal trainer when Quinn is out of town.

and i know what i must do today, despite my nerves.

there’s still thirty minutes until the ceremony actually begins, and no matter how much i’ve steeled myself, i’ll never be ready to face the pity filled glances and the sympathetic words of Quinn and i’s families and friends. so, i wander the halls of the stuffy church, thinking about how unlike Quinn this all is.

perhaps he’s changed his mind since we had fantasizingly planned our own wedding. laid in bed, the golden sunrise lighting his face in a greek god-like way, speaking in hushed whispers, discussing our dream wedding. nothing like this one.

my feet pause on their own accord as yelling reaches my ears, and i identify the sound coming from an open door down the hall as Lindsay.

“are you stupid?” her voice drifts out of the room, carried by the empty space. “i told you to get nude heels, not cream!”

i make quick work to pass by the room, catching just a glimpse of the blonde bride, her fluffy white gown swallowing her.

heaving out a relieved sigh, i try to ignore the pounding in my chest, turning left down the hall and towards the main room. maybe it’s best for me to just get the pity and commiseration over with.

my heels click against the hardwood floor of the crowded room, and a hush falls over most of the right side. Quinn’s side.

scanning the room, i’m grateful to find Trevor and Cole. i know Quinn’s family is with him getting ready, but i at least have these two to bring me some comfort amongst the sea of strangers.

“y/n, you came!”

pop! the comfort bubble has broken. i thought i could trust Cole to treat me normally, but the gentle incredulous tone of his voice tells me otherwise. a mix of shock and sympathy.

“yeah, of course i did.” my lips quirk in a forced smile, shoving any resentment and nerves down deep inside me. “i wouldn’t miss Quinny’s big day.”

“y/n/n, you know you don’t have to act strong in front of us, right?” Trevor’s hand rubs my arm, providing the perfect grounding for me.

“yeah, no, i know that.” i nod. “but seriously, guys, i’m fine. i knew this day would come.”

“it’s not too late.” Cole jokes. “the priest does say that whole ‘speak now or forever hold your peace’ thing, right?”

i let out a genuine chuckle at the deep and ominous tone he uses to imitate the priest; the first real laugh i’ve had all day. if only he knew.

i join Trevor and Cole in finding seats, sitting in the 4th row. not quite at the front, but also not quite the middle. i perch in the seat closest to the aisle, open for a quick getaway if needed.

the guys engage me in small talk, asking me about my job and frowning when i give the generic answer of ‘it’s okay.’

but i couldn’t tell them the truth, could i? that i hated it. that i regretted ever taking it. that it wasn’t the job that was bad, but rather that i was filled to the brim with resentment that it took me away from the man i love.

i knew i had brought it upon myself. i made myself this miserable. i chose this job over him. i got the internship and thought Quinn and i could withstand the distance while i was in Boston, but i was wrong. we didn’t make it more than two months before i was forced to watch our relationship crumble before me; knowing there was nothing i could do to fix us, i had to let him go.

i knew he would live on. i knew he would be able to put our relationship in the past. but i was only more disconsolate than ever. stuck in a mournful heartbreak. unable to move on and unwilling to try.

i’m shaken from my thoughts by Cole, who points out the mother of the bride walking down the aisle, signifying that the ceremony is getting underway.

i strain my back, twisting around in my seat. my eyes are drawn to the open double doors, where Quinn makes his entrance. his parents on either side of him.

my heart races in my chest, my nerves settling low within my stomach. he looks breath taking. but i can’t help noticing the lack of spark in his eyes. the once lively eyes that used to be so full of emotion, now seem empty.

my gaze tracks his movement, following as he walks down the aisle and to the altar, coming to a stop in front of the priest. his parents take their seats as he scans the room, seemingly searching, and when our eyes meet, he seems to stiffen. his back straightening and his jaw locking.

i can only hope my eyes convey everything i’m thinking.

i’m sorry.

please don’t do this.

his brothers are quick to follow down the aisle, decked out in navy blue suits, joining him at the altar as his groomsmen.

Jack’s lips quirk up in a smirk when he sees me, and he sends me a wink, but i can’t muster anything more than a simple straight lipped expression.

the next 20 minutes go by in a blur, a haze of bridesmaids and eventually Lindsay making her entrance.

“dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to join together this man and this woman in holy matrimony, which is commended to be honorable among all men; and therefore - is not by any - to be entered into unadvisedly or lightly - but reverently, discreetly, advisedly and solemnly.”

the priest begins, and i’ve been to enough weddings to know what comes next. steeling my nerves, i take a deep breath in, letting it escape back past my lips with a silent whoosh.

“should anyone present know of any reason that this couple should not be joined in holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

a silence falls over the room, the priest looking out over the seated crowd.

my hands tremble by my sides, anxiety growing deep within me, but i know this is my last chance.

i rise to my feet, slowly and shakily. i can hear whispers start from the left side of the room, and i glance around to find everyone staring at me with horrified looks. everyone but Quinn’s immediate family and friends.

Jack and Luke share a glance before letting out relieved sighs; but i’m only focused on Quinn, who stares back at me with wide eyes and parted lips.

“go on.” the priest urges me, an annoyed expression painting his face.

Lindsay’s face turns red, hands balled into fists at her sides.

“don’t say ‘yes’.” i plead of Quinn.

“y/n-” he sighs, and my heart skips a beat in my chest, the well-known effect he has on me.

“you need to hear me out.” i beg. “Quinn, i’m sorry. i’m sorry i let us go, i’m sorry i didn’t fight harder for us, and i’m sorry i ever even took that stupid internship. but even if i’m too late to win you back, you deserve better than this.

“she’s been using you for your name and your money.” i continue, but Quinn squeezes his eyes shut in disbelief. whether he’s in disbelief of Lindsay or me, i can’t be sure. “and she’s been cheating on you.”

gasps sound out across the room and his eyes snap open wide again. his gaze flickers between me and his bride, who has now turned a pale white; all color draining from her face at my accusation.

“she’s lying! she just wants you to herself! she had her chance and she lost it and now she doesn’t want you happy.” Lindsay cries out.

“i have it on good authority that she’s been sleeping with her trainer when you’re out of town. you know i wouldn’t say anything if i weren’t completely sure. if i didn’t have proof.” i tell him “and you don’t deserve that. you deserve someone who will be absolutely head over heels, purely, and loyally in love with you. and i’m not saying that i’m that person for you. this isn’t me begging for a second chance, even if i am still out of my mind in love with you. i just can’t stand idly by and watch you make a mistake. i can’t let you marry her without knowing the truth.”

i take a deep breath and let it out in a sigh. silence plagues the room, astonishment written all over the faces over every guest in attendance.

“okay, that’s all i wanted to say.” i purse my lips and nod, stepping out into the aisle. my heels click against the floor as i make my exit, not staying to see the outcome of my outburst.

***

i sit on my couch, staring at my hands fidgeting in my lap; my phone shut down entirely and sitting face down on the coffee table in front of me, not ready to face the consequences of my earlier actions.

a movie plays on my tv, but i pay no attention, only having put it on in attempt to escape my thoughts and avoid the quiet.

it’s been approximately twelve hours since i objected to my ex’s wedding. now midnight, and my anxiety has not lessened. i have no clue whether Quinn carried on with his marriage or if he took my words to hold the truth. too afraid to find out.

i’m broken out of my trance by a heavy knock sounding out on the door of my apartment, and i stand frantically. i expect that it’s Jack or one of the many other friends in attendance of the wedding this afternoon, but my heart rate picks up when i look through the peephole to find the very man i confessed my love to today.

my hand shakes as i unlock the door, opening it to reveal Quinn. he’s no longer in his tux, rather adorning sweatpants and a t-shirt, but he still looks handsome to me.

“Quinn.”

“i didn’t say my vows.” he rushes out.

“what?” i question, fearing i heard him wrong.

“i didn’t say my vows.” he repeats, pushing past me and into my entry hall. “she tried to deny what you told me, but i trust you. i held my ground, and she confessed everything. you were right.”

“Quinn, please.” i plead. “i’m happy that you’re not upset with me but i can’t-”

“i’m so glad you were there.” he cuts me off, snaking his arm around my waist and pulling me flush against him. “were you telling the truth?”

“Quinn, you just said she confessed-” i push against his chest, tears gathering in my eyes.

“about being sorry. about still being in love with me. were you telling the truth?” he clarifies, his free hand coming up to hold both of mine in his clutch, and my arms go slack.

“yes.” the tension in the air is palpable, and i’m unsure whether it’s worrisome or comforting.

“say it again.” he breathes out, a subtle smile resting on his lips.

“i love you.” a lone tear spills over my waterline, rolling down my cheek. “i am absolutely and irrevocably in love with you.”

his lips crash upon mine in a bruising kiss, finally letting go of my hands in favor of resting his right one against my cheek. i stiffen against him, seizing up in his hold, and he pulls back. his eyes scan my face, his face etched in worry.

“did i do something wrong?” a hoarse whisper, our faces still millimeters apart.

my hands raise to cup the back of his neck, pulling his lips back down to mine. my eyes flutter shut,this time it’s slow and passionate; holding my heart on my sleeve as i pour my soul out to him in the form of a kiss.

he pulls away, pressing his forehead against mine, but my eyes remain shut. we’re both silent, nothing but the sound of our mingling breaths and the tv lowly drifting in from the other room.

“i love you too.”

#speak now fic list #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes #quinn hughes blurb #vancouver canucks #nhl imagine #nhl blurb #nhl fic #faithlynn’s writings <3

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the-fluff-piece · 10 months

Note

heyyyy idk if your follower milestone event is still happening but can i get 1😭 Law?

Like Law doesn't think he's worthy enough. ANGST BUT FLUFFY

love your works!!

For you the event will be eternally running!

Sorry I am taking forever to finish these!

For the now closed follower milestone event.

Also check out my other stuff:

My Masterlist - Short and Multichapter stories

Headcanon Masterlist

I also didn't forget about the other request, so I will write that, too.

Broken

Law knows that he is not very sociable, that he's absolutely broken inside and has more emotional luggage than any other.

It never bothered him, though. He was comfortable keeping his distance: to his crew, the straw hats, everyone. Until he met you, and he felt like an empty loser unfit to make you happy Contains: negative self talk by Law, hurt/comfort, angst

Since Law and you became a couple, the devil powered, tattooed bad boy revealed so many facets to his character, you felt like he would forever stay a mystery. He was sometimes moody, sometimes, on rare occasions, he was giddy, he loved to tell you about his obscure interests. And sometimes, he just wanted to stay silent, not talking but insisting on staying near you.

And since you were visiting the strawhat crew on the Thousand Sunny, he was like a brooding child and almost a little bit hurtful in his isolation. He almost seemed mad.

You decided to let him have his alone time and enjoy your stay on the beautiful ship. They sure had a lot of commodities the submarine didn't have: a bar, a big bath, absolutely delicious food! You knew that a tasty treat was awaiting you as the handsome cook of the strawhats danced toward you, set a small masterpiece of a dessert in front of you and kneeled down to kiss your hand. You had to giggle - his small beard tickled your hand and his campy flirtiness did the rest. What a strange guy! He made a bit of smalltalk as you enjoyed the tea and dessert before he moved on to woo the women of his own crew.

You looked around for your boyfriend, who had decided to sit down in a dark corner and be grumpy. This amount of brooding was strange, even for him. You decided to finish your afternoon snack and sit down next to him to see if you could find out what was bothering him.

"Hey" You said softly as you sat down next to him in the lush grass. He didn't answer, instead, he lowered his gaze so that his hat obscured his face.

You got a bit closer and put your head on his shoulder, like you often did - he shrugged you off and moved away.

"Law?" You got a bit irrited at his behavior.

"What's wrong? Did I do something?" You asked, already thinking about possible reasons for his reaction to you.

Law

She looked lovely out there in the sun. The blonde cook courted her like the goddess she was - while Law could only sit in the shadows, watching like the creep he was. He looked down on his hands and read the letters on his fingers. Death. The only companion he ever really had. He looked at his inked hand and for the first time in his life, he regretted it.

The cook didn't have tattoos. His skin was light and smooth, his hair shone golden in the sun. He made her giggle and twirl her hair around her finger. She looked so cute, so full of light and life. Unlike him.

Death. That was all he could tell about and bring to others. No joy, no life. Sometimes he battled death, when he saved a patient. But he was still using his power primarily to hurt. He felt like a monster next to her kindness and softness.

He thought about everyone he lost - everyone he failed to save. His family. His town. Cora-san. He was afraid he would loser her, too. Would it hurt more if she left him for the blonde one? Or if one of his enemies sliced her open before his eyes? He made a lot of enemies.

Lost in thought, he didn't even register her approach until her beautiful voice graced his ears. Not now, he couldn't be who she deserved right now, could only be the surgeon of death, incapable of flirting or kindness. She got nearer, her scent and warmth, usually a ripping him out of his brooding, painfully reminded him of what he would lose if she realised who he really was - what he had done. How broken he was.

Her small head lay on his shoulder, he didn't deserve that, he moved away. He had to protect her from himself and the pain he reliably brought to those around him.

"Law?" She asked, irritated. "What's wrong? Did I do something?"

You're too perfect. You're too nice. Too everything. That is wrong.

"Just leave me" He told her, already feeling the deserved ache of loneliness in his heart. Now he did it, he basically told her to go. Unable to bear her presence any longer, he got up and left, sitting down just a few metres away from her on the bottom of the mast, looking away.

"Fine!" He heard her say and she stomped back into the sun, to the others.

You

Stupid Law. Whatever he was bitching about, you didn't need to punch it out of him. He should talk to you like an adult or leave it. Sanji already threatened to beat him up for making you sad, but you declined.

For the rest of the afternoon, you felt his presence like a sting in your neck. He didn't move, didn't talk. What a diva. But it wasn't your job to get him out of there if he didn't want to. Instead, you savored the time with the crazy members of the straw hats and ended up having a small feast on deck as sanji brought out a grill, Zoro got kegs of sake from storage and Brook began to fiddle a happy song. It seemed like they were always one step away from a small party.

Law stayed where he was. Until Luffy didn't allow that anymore.

"Tra-guy, you have to wear a party hat, too!" He screamed as he stretched his arm to fetch law - he got to grip him on his belt and almost pulled Law's pants down, it was absolutely hilarious. You had to laugh and were just glad that Law had changed his expression from brooding to annoyed - at least some kind of reaction.

"Leave me be!" He growled at the other captain.

"Yeah that's stupid" Zoro chimed in, holding a mug full of sake. "You should drink with me" He added and already held out the mug.

"Not in the mood!" Law snapped at the swordsman.

"Eat some cotton candy and you will feel better!" Chopper tried.

"I hate sweets!" Law bellowed, trying to walk away, but he was surrounded.

"Let's all sing together" Brook tried to soothe the irritated Law, resulting in the direct opposite, he looked like he would explode soon.

"No! I am leaving!" Law desperately said, looking for an opening.

"You've been a drag all day, you should be with your girl!" Nami berated him, quickly followed by Sanji who added: "You're not worthy to be with such a beautiful girl" which stopped him dead in his tracks.

"ROOM" Law screamed and summoned a blue orb from his hand, only to vanish to god knows where. You couldn't see his face clearly- but a tear fell down where he had stood a second before. You've never seen him cry, he was always in control. Always.

"The room was not so big, I bet he's somewhere downstairs" Robin calmly informed you and already pointed to the door on deck that lead down. "We'll wait here" She said as you already ran to the door to search for him.

You were listening closely as you moved down the hallway under deck. You could hear the continued party upstairs, muffled through the planks, until you heard sobbing. This was bad, you didn't know how to handle this. Cautiously, you opened the door to the room where you heard it. Between crates and barrels, Law cowered, small and miserable. He looked up with red eyes as he heard you.

"Go. Away." He told you, his breaking voice betraying his harsh tone.

"I don't think you should be alone now, Law." You put your finger over his trembling lip as he started to protest and he shut up, looking down.

"I know you're not used to this, but I am here now. Talk to me. What's bothering you?" you asked him as you sat down next to him, prompting a louder sob from him.

"The cook is right. I don't deserve you" He whispered.

"Sanji is just talking trash, what does he know about us?" You asked Law.

"He's seeing that we don't fit together" Law said in a weak voice. "I am just holding you back, I bring nothing but pain" he looked at his hands again. Those long, nimble fingers could do so much, you thought. They saved lives, they protected his friends and they lovingly touched you. You wished that he would see that, too.

"You may not see it, but you make me so happy, Law. I am so glad we met. You're so handsome, intelligent and funny" you told him as he avoided your gaze.

"And you're a little weirdo, and I love that, too" you planted a little kiss on his forehead, pushing his hat down in the process. It fell to the floor, unnoticed by Law.

"I can't cook, I am not a gentleman, I don't...party. I am just a...a monster" He concluded, sounding defeated.

"Who told you that?" You asked him.

"Isn't it obvious?" He asked, going through his hair nervously.

"You're not a monster! You're my wonderful Law. You saved a whole kingdom, your crew loves you, the strawhats love you. I love you" you told him, taking his hands into yours, "I know it's hard to grasp when you're not used to it, but you have friends, you have me" you desperately scrambled for words to express your feelings to him without sounding too melodramatic.

"Tss" he said and tried to pull his hands away, but you held on.

"It can be hard to accept that things have changed. You are not DeFlamingo's puppet anymore, you are Law, captain of your own ship" you realised that you didn't really get throught to him as his tears flowed freely now. You didn't want to let it come to this, but you were sure there was no other way to pull him out of this. It was a gamble, though.

"Just think, did Cora-san save you just you could sit around here and be miserable? While you have accomplished so much?" you told him and held your breath. Cora-san was sacred to Law, you knew that. You didn't want to bring him up, but you were pretty sure that he would really want Law to be as happy as possible.

Law's eyes widened and he began breathing faster. His eyes darted around as he seemed to think furiously.

Law

Cora-san! Law was furious that she would bring him up now - but he also couldn't help but replay his memories of their short time together in his head. And he couldn't say she was wrong. He dragged Law across the north blue to live, he desperately wanted that small, sick boy to live his life and not throw it away.

It hurt to admit it - but she was right. He couldn't see Cora-san's actions as grooming him for revenge. He wanted Law to be happy, to value the second life he was given. And the sacrifice it took to have it.

"Law?" her voice ripped him out of his memories once again. He was feeling dizzy, his brain foggy.

"I am sorry" he mumbled.

"Don't be. I can only imagine what you have been through, but I will be here for you for as long as you let me." She said.

She was so precious. He took her chin in his hand like he always did and gave her a soft kiss. She smiled. He felt his own mouth curl. Law promised himself that he would work to make Cora-san proud of him.

"Let's get back up" Law said. "But I won't wear a party hat." He stated.

Law was still grumpy, but he sat among the straw hats and took part. He looked at y/n as she enjoyed herself and kept an eye on him. He had an emotional bodyguard now. It was hard for him, in his current state, to be with people. But he had to start somewhere.

A plate with various barbecued foods was put in front of him, he looked up at the grumpy face of ship's cook that was exclusively reserved for men. What he said earlier still stung, because he was right.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have told you that you were not worthy of her." Sanji apologised grumpily, looking everywhere but at Law. "But I still think you should value her! And I will kick you if you make her cry on my watch! She is so cute and nice and her nose is so adorable-" Sanji got into one of his rants. Law didn't have time or nerves for that.

"I agree" Law interrupted the cooks blabbering.

"What?" Sanji asked, confused.

"I agree. She is the best thing to ever happen to me. If I treat her bad again, kick me." Law stated.

"I ABSOLUTELY FUCKING WILL" Sanji promised with a salute, standing at attention like a soldier.

Law immediately regretted that request, but he was pretty sure he would deserve every shoe that landed in his face if he began lashing out at her again.

So yeah, Law is seeing that he cannot keep pushing people away and he asked Sanji to check on that, because the cook has a magical "woman in distress" radar that will find any misstep by Law and will hold him accountable. I did that and I think it's cute!

I hope you liked it

#one piece fanfiction #one piece x you #trafalgar d water law #trafalgar law x y/n #law x reader #trafalgar d law x reader #law x y/n #trafalgar law #hurt/comfort #trafalgar law x reader #x you #vinsmoke sanji #trafalgar law fanfiction #comfort #loving #trafalgar law fluff #law fluff #trafalgar law angst #angst

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jesterwriting · 6 months

Note

Throwing confetti and rice in celebration for your wonderful milestone!!!

I’d truly love a gn reader x Mihawk with “like the dawn” as some fluff. C; fuel the brain rot!!

pairings: mihawk x gn!reader

word count: 1.1k words

contents: fluff and pining, reader has a bounty high enough for marines to bother them, set sometime in the two year time skip

note: YEESSSS THANK YOU LUMI I'M SO EXCITED and of course i can provide mihawk fluff i love to fuel brainrot always hehe. im still getting used to writing for him, but i hope you enjoy this all the same <333

playlist: like the dawn - the oh hellos

“You were the brightest shade of sun when I saw you. And surely, you will be the death of me, but how could I have known?”

done for 200 followers event!!

Sunny days were more than rare on Kuraigana Island. They were practically nonexistent. That was why, on the off chance a ray of sun made its way through the gloom, you could be found laying in it.

You were dozing, basking in the warmth of your lone sunbeam. Dry grass prickled the back of your neck, and you slid your arms behind your head to protect the sensitive skin. Your mind slipped in and out of your dreams, barely aware of the world as it moved around you. Distantly, you could hear Perona’s laugh, or the stomp of Zoro’s boots as he strode through the empty halls. There were no birds to chirp, no insects to tickle your cheeks. The only signs of life around you was the sparse garden you had started to add a splash of color to the gray.

You loved your garden, and you were starting to believe that your host did too. Unlike the land he tilled, it was mostly flowers. Mihawk was a hard man to read, but after a year of living with him, you were starting to get the hang of it. His golden eyes would linger on the colorful petals, and every so often, you could see his nostrils flare as he breathed in the sweet air. You could feel your lips twitch at the thought. He liked to group you in with those freeloading kids — freeloading kids you couldn’t help but be fond of — but you knew your worth.

Besides, it was easier to mooch off Mihawk’s warlord status rather than fight off swathes of marines yourself. Didn’t they ever get tired? You sure did.

Footsteps approached you from afar, and through your sleepy haze, you almost thought it was Zoro coming to steal your sunshine. If you were more awake, you would have recognized Mihawk’s near silent footfalls. They were distinct, far quieter than the other two— though you knew they were capable of it, you wished they chose to utilize said skill more often.

You ignored him, still under the impression he was Zoro, and continued to doze. Minutes passed, the intruder’s gaze soaking into your skin, past your flesh, and into your bones. Without meaning to, you fell into a deeper slumber, the slow rise and fall of your chest evening out ever so slightly. The feeling of fingers brushing through your hair caused you to stir. There was a pause in movement, before something tickled against your ear, and the hand pulled away.

It was a fleeting interaction, one you were sure you dreamed until you awoke an hour later, chilled to your marrow. The sun dipped behind the clouds yet again, leaving you cold and wanting for more. A weight against your ear caught your attention. Lips parted in surprise, you plucked a marigold from behind your ear and stared down at it.

“Where did you come from,” You muttered, twirling the stem between your thumb and forefinger. It was a beautiful shade of gold. It reminded you of Mihawk's eyes, and you couldn’t stop your heart from fluttering.

There was no denying there were feelings for the warlord brewing under the surface. He was a handsome man. His confidence was what drew you, but what made you stay was the softness he kept hidden. Mihawk could have kicked you out months ago, yet here you were, sleeping in the garden with a flower behind your ear.

“Enjoy your nap?” It wasn’t a question, not really. You rubbed the sleep out of your eyes and stared over at the lounging warlord, a glass of wine by his side as he read his book.

You pointed at him with the flower. “Was this you?”

Mihawk gave you a once over, his expression cool disinterest. “What does that little flower have to do with me?”

“Don’t play dumb.”

He was quiet for a moment, taking a lazy sip of his wine. “I do not ‘play dumb,’ Y/N.” His sharp eyes traveled from your face to the flower, and his lips pulled into the barest smirk. “Though I can’t say that color doesn’t suit you.”

“See! It was you, I was right.” Triumph flooded your face, your smile big and all encompassing. Mihawk studied your expression, eyes soft for a moment before they were back to the hardness you knew so well.

Mihawk stood, closing the gap between you in a few strides. To have a warlord towering over you while you sat in the grass should have been terrifying. All you could do was grin. He kneeled before you, plucking the flower from your hand. Your fingers felt empty without it. Holding your gaze, Mihawk stared deep into your eyes as he tucked it back behind your ear, fingertips grazing your jaw before he pulled away.

“You proved nothing but my point. Gold suits you.”

You snorted. “Like your eyes?”

He unfolded his legs and stood at his full height before offering you his hand. His palm was callused from years of swordplay, though his grip on your forearm was gentle

“Like the dawn,” Mihawk said.

His words were matter of fact, as if they weren’t enough to drown you. You stumbled, halfway off the ground. The only thing holding you aloft was Mihawk, whose stare never left your face, even while you gaped up at him. With a final tug, he hauled you to your feet. You stayed stock still, gaze firmly locked on his own, though he didn’t appear at all affected by the sincerity of his compliment. Not like you, at least. Mihawk frowned slightly and pulled a leaf from your hair. It fluttered to your feet.

“Close your mouth, dear, you’ll catch flies.” The pet name rolled off his tongue smoothly.

Your jaw snapped shut and a hint of amusement flitted across Mihawk’s face.

What if you were born to be dear to him? Although you wondered that for a while now, the words seemed to be caught in your throat. Of all the millions upon millions of people who inhabited this world, you sure you were made to slot inside his bones and meld your flesh with his. That, the first day you saw him, the only thing you could think was: at last.

That was too vulnerable, though. Instead of making a fool of yourself with sentiments and feelings that were better left unsaid, you picked up the leaf and set it on his shoulders.

“You’ll be the death of me, Dracule Mihawk.”

He sighed and flicked the leaf from his shoulders. “And you, me”

#one piece x reader #mihawk x reader #mihawk x you #mihawk x yn #dracule mihawk x reader #dracule mihawk x you #.jesterwrites

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harrysfolklore · 2 years

Note

can you make a short fic of harry and reader when the the banner moment happens or after that??

you know i’m not the best at this but i’m giving it a try. PLEASE send feedback !

ask me anything | masterlist | likes and reblogs are appreciated ! | support me <3

15 NIGHTS AT THE GARDEN

Emotions were all over the place at Madison Square Garden’s backstage, the clinking of champagne glasses along with congratulatory speeches were heard all around the room as a way to celebrate the 15 sold out shows at the world’s most famous arena.

The grin on Harry’s face was evident as he thanked everyone who approached him to applaud his milestone, from his friends to the arena’s crew, and holding his own glass of champagne and wearing a small smile, his eyes started wandering around for you.

It was when he reached the now empty pit of the arena when he found you, just a few hours prior, the room was filled with feather boas, glittery hats and more than twenty thousand people who came together to celebrate him. Right now, it was just you and him, looking up at the brand new addition to the arena.

“HARRY STYLES. 15 CONSECUTIVE NIGHTS AT THE GARDEN”

Was what the arena’s brand new banner said, a banner that would permanently stay there, as a reminder of what your boyfriend had achieved.

“You know I wouldn’t have done it without you, right?” he said as he approached you, bringing you closer by wrapping both of his arms around your waist, leaning his chin of your shoulder “All these songs are about you, all of this is because of you, my love”

You smiled, the feeling of elation increasing at the sound of your boyfriend’s voice. Turning around to face him, you placed your hands on his cheeks before you spoke “This is all you, you did this, baby” you said while looking into his eyes, and the fact that they were glossy and watery told you that he was still very emotional about the night’s events “Maybe I inspired you to write the songs, but the words aren’t mine, honey, they’re yours. All the people who filled those seats every night, they were here for you, because you have impacted their lives in ways no one else could. You deserve this, and I’m so proud and happy for you” you finished, feeling your own eyes getting watery, still holding his face between your hands, and pressing your foreheads together.

“I’m so damn lucky to have you” Harry chuckles, leaning in to press a kiss to your jaw and then nuzzle your neck, you put your hand on the back of his neck and caress his hair, letting him embrace you and holding him right back.

“I’m the lucky one, I mean, not everyone can say that their boyfriend has a banner permanently hung up high at Madison Square Garden, right?” you joked, feeling his laugh vibrate against your neck before he pulled his face out of it, looking into your eyes.

“I love you so much, YN” he said looking right into your eyes, and his expressed what he had just said, you could feel the love radiate from him.

He’s walking joy, walking happiness, walking love

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#harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles story #harry styles fake instagram #harry styles blurb #harry styles one shot #harry styles x reader #harry styles writing #harry styles x you #harry styles au #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles concept #harry styles series #harry styles fic rec #harry styles masterlist #harry styles drabble #1k

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ceruleancattail · 5 months

Note

CERU CONGRATS FOR THE 200FICS MILESTONE 💕💞💖💗 you can publish a real book by that length now 😭💕💗💕💗💕 i love your dedication and more success for youu 🥳🥳

for the sentience event~ is it alright to request the Fellow Honest? 🦊✨

Like imagine him successfully turning every NRC student into dolls and hes exporting them to his boss now but hes quite attached to the "magicless student & their freebie cat" doll set so he plans to keep them rather than sell ✨✨ you know as a token for the good work 👍👍

i like to think that fellow thinks back on that time where Yuu were still human and offered to study with them in NRC... even if it wont come true, its a nicer thought to think that they couldve met as classmates and had a normal relationship... instead of this hollow conversation with a doll created out of their body--

@rayroseu IN MY INBOX!!!!!! Thank you oh my goodness-

Yup, writing a full novel is the goal! Working on little something’s here and there mostly ahah- fanfics are fun too, though!

Thank you so much for the well-wishes! Same to you, the Diasonmia family’s dearest portrait painter.

Er disclaimer, I don’t really know much about Fellow Honest. I’m just going to write this based on the general vibe I get of him. Sorry if it’s very out of character!

Sentience presents:

Tethered

Self Aware Fellow Honest x reader

Tw: yandere

Warmth bleeds into your shoulder. The reassuring weight of a hand, patting you carelessly. An affectionate gesture of a friend, truly. Well, until his hand slide down the length of your arm, fingers caressing every curve.

Your skin used to be softer. Warmer, actually. The gentle warmth of the sun’s golden rays. However, now it’s frozen, wrinkled with the etch of wood, jagging through your entire body.

Fellow’s fingers slid into the grooves carved out on your body, tracing them aimlessly. When he lifts his hand, his fingertips were pressed pink, the patterns on your skin imprinted onto his own.

With one fluid motion, he brings them to his lips. Pressing a sweet, tender kiss into them. It’s sort of romantic, the same marks that mar you, carved deep into the pads of his fingers. Almost like those cutesy matching things couples tend to purchase.

Fellow’s sorry he can’t get you any, but this is certainly much more intimate then any hollow plastic trinket, isn’t it?

Shaking his head, Fellow’s arms snake around your waist. Dragging you closer to them, until your hip bumped against his. The ghost of a smirk waltzing across Fellow’s lips, the dastardly smile of a victor, staring down at his spoils of war. A chuckle bubbles out of his chest, dripping with the amusement a child would have, upon finding a new plaything.

There was something cruel about his laugh, a certain quality that would have made your blood run cold.

Of course, that was when you still had blood running through your veins.

Now, there was nothing but wood. Your pulse faltered to a stop, your lifeless eyes staring back at his own. Even your expression melted back into something neutral. A blank slate.

Gently prising your fingers apart, Fellow slides his palm against yours. Gingerly sliding his fingers in between yours, wrapping around the back of your hand firmly. Leaving no room for escape. Although that wouldn’t matter now, right?

It’s not as if a puppet could break off its own strings. Not when those same strings keep it tethered upright. It’s a pity you couldn’t speak in this state, but Fellow doesn’t mind too much.

He can still hear your voice, echoing ever so clearly within his mind. Your pleading voice, as you clutched at his hand with those warm, gentle palms of yours. Begging for him to release your classmates, for him to come with you to Night Raven College.

You were practically on your knees, asking him to let you save him-

If he was being honest, Fellow’s heart skipped a beat then. For a split second, he let himself hope. A fleeting dream, really. Fellow’s already too deep in this darkness of this twisted wonderland to ever dream of being in the light.

This gentle hope had no place in his heart. All it did was really plunge him in deeper despair, really. It hurts him, ever so truly! You wound him deeper then any knife.

So shouldn’t you take responsibility for your actions?

Fellow knows the light isn’t the place for him.

So he’ll just drag you to the depths of hell with him.

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #fellow honest x reader #fellow honest #fellow x reader #fellow #sentience #self aware au #protection potion♦️#THIS IS THE LAST SENTIENCE REQUEST I’LL ANSWER #THANK YOU ALL FOR YOUR ACTIVE PARTICIPATION #gods I’m tired

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avis-writeshq · 2 months

Note

hi! could i request track one with spencer reid where reader gets drunk and needy for spencer 😭 but he denies (cuz yk shes drunk) and just takes care of him please? thank you!

off my face — spencer reid

summary: “i’m off my face in love with you.” in which reader gets drunk and spencer has to nurse her back to health. pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: established relationship, fluff warnings: rated 16+ for allusions to smut, reader gets drunk, reader wears lipstick and a dress, mentions of throwing up [not in detail], spencer being sickeningly perfect, lots of pet names, inspired by that one video of matthew. you know which one i’m talking about. a/n: i er… got carried away because i love this trope 😔 i am in fact obsessed wc: 1.23k

It’s too loud. Granted, it’s a club; it’s supposed to be loud. Spencer cringes a little as the music somehow manages to get even louder and he sips at his coke. He has your purse in his lap and he’s also manning your drink like a guard dog; moving himself to the furthest seat in the booth that is away from the crowd. Your inevitable return is a lot sooner than he expected, and he watches with amusement as you slide into the booth and curl into his side, reaching for your drink.

“Have fun?” Spencer asks with a soft laugh, one arm wrapping around your shoulders as he presses a kiss to the top of you head.

“Mm,” you hum in affirmation, eagerly sipping at the sugary concoction in front of you. “Would’ve been funner with you, baby.”

He laughs louder at that, rolling his eyes teasingly and squeezing at the flesh of your waist. “You know it wouldn’t have been.”

“Bet you’d be real sexy with all that sweat dripping off you,” you coo, your voice sickeningly sweet as your fingers move to toy with the buttons of his shirt.

Your fingers are wet with the condensation from the chilled glass of your cocktail and they brush against the sensitive skin of his collarbone. A shudder runs down his spine at the contact, and his cheeks grow hot. His hand finds your wrist and he holds it firmly, but not enough to hurt.

“Don’t,” he says, half jokingly half seriously as he moves his head to track your gaze. “How much have you had to drink, angel?”

You ignore the question, moving your fingers upward to brush against a blooming purple mark near his collar. A pout rests on your lips as you gesture to it, a frown forming on your face. “Who gave this to you?”

He bristles, moving the flap of his collar to cover the bruise. “You did. This morning.”

“Oh yeah!” The smile returns to your face awfully fast and a giggle bubbles up from your throat. “You love me.”

“I do,” he agrees, kissing your head again.

Your expression is all too gleeful as you move your head just at the right time so that he lips would meet yours. He pulls away after a brief moment, about to say something else, when you effectively cut him off by pressing a wet kiss to his cheek.

“Angel– sweetheart, you’re very drunk,” he says gently, prying your needy fingers away and holding them firmly in his hand.

“Nuh uh,” you deny, leaning forward again and kissing his neck right where you left a mark earlier that morning.

He jolts at the contact, pulling away as pink rises to his cheeks. “We’re not doing this while you’re drunk, honey.”

You blatantly ignore him, maneuvering yourself so that you’s practically half on his lap with your arms wrapped loosely around his neck. He doesn’t mind the attention, per se. He just feels incredibly guilty about enjoying it when you’re loopy from all the cocktails you have had. You’re pressing kisses against his cheeks while your hands play with the collar of his shirt, tugging at the purple tie you chose earlier that day and there are lipstick stains all over his skin. He’s well aware of it; bright red with a sticky residue and he will forever not understand how you can wear it all the time.

His tie has come undone entirely and you pull at his shirt to kiss dangerously close to his collarbone.

“Okay–” he’s flushing scarlet and he doesn’t dare meet the eyes of anyone in the team. “Okay, baby, that’s enough. Let’s get you home.”

“Ooh,” you giggle, wiggling your eyebrows with insinuation.

“You need sleep.” He says it sternly, although you don’t seem to grasp the concept.

“What kind of sleep?” You ask, winking.

He shakes his head, amused and exasperated, as he rebuttons his shirt and reties his tie. “The REM kind. Come on, angel. Say good night to your friends.”

You giggle tiredly, waving goodbye to your friends. Penelope looks absolutely hammered, wiggling her eyebrows at you with an expression full of insinuation. Emily is smirking in your direction, swirling her martini around before taking a sip. JJ looks equally elated, snickering softly as she holds onto Will’s arm.

Spencer ushers you gently into his car, leaning over the console to open the glove box on your side and brandishing a packet of micellar water wipes. He takes out two for himself before passing the rest of them to you.

“For your makeup,” he explains, wiping the lipstick marks off his cheeks. “I’ll help you with your skincare when we get home, alright?”

You’re in love. It isn’t long before he’s helping you up the stairs of his apartment and sitting you gently on the couch. Your eyes are droopy and it seems like the sugar high from your cocktails is wearing off. Spencer runs his fingers through your hair gently while he holds a glass of cold water to your lips, urging you to drink. You only do it to appease him and once he’s satisfied with your water intake, he’s reaching for the zip of your dress.

“Someone’s needy,” you coo, giggling as he pulls it down to just below your ribcage. “Gonna rough me up?”

“No.” He answers it swiftly, and had you been sober your heart would have split in two. He continues, “I’m going to put you in something more comfortable and then you’re going to sleep.”

“Boring.”

“No, it’s not– it’s not boring,” he flounders, his cheeks growing hotter at your words. He can’t believe he’s arguing with a drunk person. “It’s not boring, baby, it’s safe. Alcohol is a neuro inhibitor. There’s a reason why you can’t drink and drive and it’s because the brain’s neural activity patterns are suppressed or blocked. That’s also the reason why you can’t ask a drunk person for consent; they don’t know or understand what’s going on around them.”

You’ve half fallen asleep at his explanation, the sleeves of your dress falling down your arms and a shiver runs down your spine. “So we’re not going to be partaking in passionate steamy love making?”

“No, we’re not,” he confirms, pulling your favourite pair of cotton pyjamas over your head. It’s a pale pink set with little bows prints all over it and a lacy collar. “Lift your hips for me, angel, I need to get the shorts on you.”

You comply, kicking the dress off into some forbidden corner of the room and Spencer takes this chance to slip the matching shorts onto your legs and up your thighs. The rest of the night is smooth sailing from there– he has successfully applied your skincare in such a way that you would be singing his praises. He has also managed to get you to drink another cup of water, and even though you’re going to wake up complaining about the fact you need to pee. He’d rather you complain about that instead of some raging headache.

Spencer climbs under the covers next to you, pulling you into his chest and kissing your shoulder. A soft snore leaves your lips and he can’t help but chuckle. Passed out, as expected.

“Good night, angel,” he murmurs into your ear, holding you tight. “See you in the morning.”

reblogs are always appreciated !!

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doobea · 5 months

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♡‧₊˚ i got my eyes on you ೄྀ࿐ˊˎ ─ MILESTONE MASTERLIST

HI EVERYONE!! I hope everyone is excited to this milestone event hehe! It ended up being 10 reqs in total and I just wanna send everyone a HUGE thank you again for sticking with me throughout the months on this crazy site hehe. I tried to keep most of the tropes relevant to the original requests but I added my own ideas/flare to some of them!! any of the ✰'s you see are added hehe

For those who are out of the loop, please refer to this OG post about the event! Anyways, I hope you guys look forward to this!! I've been dying to write some new ideas hehe

COMING SOON:

OF THREADS AND RIBBONS ─ MEGUMI F.

synopsis: you can see the red strings of fate holding people together, but no one is allowed to know that. that fact didn't stop you from using your knowledge to nudge soulmates together. of course, this led to you getting a reputation as the class matchmaker, which isn't an issue until your soulmate, Megumi Fushiguro, asks you to set him up with someone else.

tropes: soulmate AU, college AU

ALWAYS BE MY MAYBE ─ MEGUMI F.

synopsis: upon graduating and landing your first job outside of college, you soon realize that being in your twenties suck. outside of working nine hours everyday, setting time for the gym, and making shitty home cooked meals, you have a new stressor joining your team on monday - your ex.

tropes: second chances, office romance

NOT LIKE GOLD IN YOUR DREAMS ─ SUKUNA R.

synopsis: your tycoon family has done you the favor of finding the 'perfect' bachelor, aiming to strengthen their connections and net worth. and who is your future husband? cold, brash, and down right dangerous. he is the definition of devastation poured and disguised in a suit.

tropes: arranged marriage, slow burn, billionaire!sukuna ✰

BUT YOU'RE A MASTERPIECE ─ SATORU G.

synopsis: when your friends urge you to take up a new hobby, you decide on figure drawing. you convince yourself that it'll be a good way to make friends, to let your hands and mind run loose for three hours, and maybe you'll find the passion for art again. what you didn't expect is to fall in love with your nude model.

tropes: slow burn, model/artist AU ✰

NIGHTMARE BEFORE CHRISTMAS ─ SATORU G.

synopsis: the last thing you'd expect after moving to raccoon city is a zombie outbreak. but good thing you have a hot police officer to look after you, right?

tropes: zombie AU, christmas AU, police officer!gojo ✰, resident evil AU ✰

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

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

SPITTIN' OUT LIKE LISTERINE ─ RIN I.

synopsis: sae is great at a lot of things, his brother... not so much. when sae calls you up to tutor rin for his upcoming exams the first thought should've been 'yeah, sounds like easy money' rather than 'why does it look like he wants to kill me right now'.

tropes: best friend's brother, forced proximity, tutor!reader ✰

FROM NEW YORK, WITH LOVE ─ RIN I.

synopsis: new york city is always depicted as the place to be, known for its big hopes and even bigger dreams. but when you and rin reunite, after being apart for two years, you're both surrounded by broken promises and empty wishes. maybe coming here was a mistake after all. because exs can't just be friends, right?

tropes: second chance, hurt/comfort, college AU

NEW GAME PLUS ─ RIN I.

synopsis: ranked number three on the top streaming platform, twitch, rin hides his secret identity pretty well for a college student. during the day, he's studying non-stop and, when night comes, he's getting headshots left and right while yelling into comms. he absolutely hates losing, which is why you're on his shit list - AKA the second top streamer and the second best sniper in all of asia. so what does rin do when he finds out that you're suddenly his new project partner?

tropes: esport AU, rivals to lovers, college AU, overwatch ✰ (i picked this game bc i know a lot of it lol i hope you don't mind)

ICE, ICE, BABY ─ YOICHI I.

synopsis: you don't do spontaneous and you hate it when things don't align with your routine. so when the school's hockey team messes up their rink and has to settle with the figure skating one, you'll do everything in your power to make sure you'll reach the nationals - even if it means distracting the hockey team's star player.

tropes: hockey player!isagi, figure skater!reader ✰, enemies to lovers

#doobea writing #doobea milestone - masterlist #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #sukuna x reader #sukuna ryoumen x reader #sukuna ryomen x reader #isagi yoichi x reader #isagi x reader #rin itoshi x reader #itoshi rin x reader

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apteryxparvus · 6 months

Note

Congrats on 100! I’ve a request

Scaramouche/Wanderer (genshin impact) x reader roommates au. They’re doing mundane things together like cooking, cleaning, lounging, etc because they finally both got a day off work

Two months later, I finally finished this piece 😭

Part of my ✨ 100 followers milestone event ✨ that ran from September 2nd to September 9th.

Pairing — Scaramouche / Reader

Word count — 1,288 words

Content warning — slightly suggestive themes, Scaramouche might seem a bit OOC

“Wake up, sleepy head,” you whisper in Scaramouche’s ear, breath gently tickling his skin. His slumbering form stirs, mumbling something unintelligible as he instinctively turns, pulling the blanket closer to himself.

You can’t help but stifle a chuckle at his adorable drowsiness. Nestling deeper beneath the cozy blanket, you draw your body closer to his, hands gently resting upon his waist. His skin radiates a comforting warmth that contrasts with the coolness of the morning air.

The room is bathed in a gentle golden glow as the morning light filters through the window, illuminating the dust particles suspended in the air.

“It’s nearly noon,” you murmur, placing a tender kiss upon Scaramouche’s forehead. He furrows his brows, letting out a low grumble. “You’ve had your beauty sleep, and now it’s time to rise and greet the day!”

Scaramouche slowly turns towards you, eyes fluttering open to meet your gaze. Blinking a few times, he adjusts to the sunlight streaming into the room. Despite the slight frown adorning his face, his eyes are filled with a mix of affection and a sleep-induced grogginess.

“How about we stay like this a little longer?” he mumbles, voice husky and laced with the remnants of sleep.

“Nope,” you laugh softly at his request, a mischievous glimmer dancing in your eyes. “Now get up,” you assert, and with a swift movement, you wrap your legs around his, drawing him closer. You give his cheek a playful, yet gentle nip, eliciting a surprised reaction from him.

Scaramouche looks at you with wide eyes. “Was that really needed?” he asks, feigning a hurt expression. “Ruining my precious beauty sleep, as you called it.”

Realizing that you’ve successfully disrupted his peaceful slumber, you giggle at his protest. "Oh, come on," you tease, tracing a finger along his jawline. "Who needs beauty sleep when you're already the most handsome person I know?"

“Fine, fine,” Scaramouche murmurs under his breath. A smile tugs at the corners of his lips, and he shakes his head in mock annoyance but the twinkle in his eyes betrays him — his lips meet yours in a gentle kiss. You feel yourself melting as the warmth of his lips linger against yours.

“Breakfast time then? How do you feel about some chazuke?”

Scaramouche’s eyes brighten at the mention of breakfast. “Sounds perfect,” he replies. “I love how you always know exactly what I crave.”

You can’t help but blush at his words. “Stop buttering me up, and let’s get to work.”

The kitchen is alive with the sounds of your synchronized movements — the clinking of utensils and the gentle sizzle of the grill pan. The fragrant aroma of the grilled eel permeates the air, its tantalizing scent mixing with the comforting earthiness of freshly brewed green tea.

Scaramouche takes charge of preparing the bowls of rice, submerging them in the tea. When the eel is perfectly seared, you transfer a few tender pieces into the waiting bowls, and sprinkle furikake over them, watching as the colorful seasoning melts into the rice.

Your attention is drawn to your boyfriend across the low table. You watch him pile several plump umeboshi onto his bowl, their deep color standing out against the white grains of rice, followed by a large assortment of pickled vegetables — radish, carrots, large pieces of lavender melon and seagrass.

After mumbling a quick thanks for the food, you lift your wooden chopsticks, savoring the blended scents wafting from the steaming bowl.

Scaramouche lifts his own chopsticks, a satisfied smirk gracing his lips.

“Are you even going to taste anything beneath this mountain of pickled stuff?” you taunt.

He shoots you a playful sideways glare, before snatching the plumpest-looking umeboshi and tossing it whole into his mouth. You watch both fascinated and appalled as he continues to devour the pickled vegetables. Your nose scrunches involuntarily as you imagine the sourness on your own tongue, yet Scaramouche seems utterly unaffected, clearly enjoying the taste.

“You simply don’t know what you’re missing out,” he says, waving his chopsticks dismissively. "This is reserved for those with refined palates."

“Says the madman who thinks wasabi is too mild!” you shoot back.

Your morning banter dissolves into laughter as the two of you continue to enjoy the meal. Once your bowls are empty, Scaramouche insists on taking care of the clean up.

From your seat on the low table, you watch as your boyfriend begins to clean up the plates. His movements are purposeful and efficient. The sigh of him — sleeves rolled up and focused on the task at hand — and the domesticity of the scene ignite a warmth within you.

You stand up and make your way towards Scaramouche, closing the distance between you as you stand up on your toes. With a light touch, your lips graze against the sensitive skin of his neck.

As you press your lips against a specific spot, his pulse quickens beneath your touch. Scaramouche pauses in his task, his body tensing before he relaxes into your embrace. His hands, still holding the dirty dishes, momentarily falter. A soft moan escapes his lips, mingling with the sound of running water and the clattering of plates.

You press your body against his, feeling the heat and strength of his figure against your own. Lingering for a moment, you savor the connection between you, before pulling back slightly.

“Thanks for the cleanup,” you tease. With a light skip in your step, you turn away from him and make your way towards the living room, laughter trailing behind you. Letting out a contented sigh, you sink into the plush cushion of the couch.

Scaramouche enters the living room a few minutes later, eyes locking onto your relaxed figure, curled up on the couch with a blanket draped over your body, a peaceful expression on your face as you doze off slightly.

A devilish smile tugs at the corners of his lips as he quietly approaches. He takes in the sigh of you — your form wrapped in the softness of the blanket, your gentle, rhythmic breathing filling the room.

He crouches down, and leans in to get a closer look at your serene face. His eyes roam over your features — he traces the contours of your lips, the curve of your cheeks; he watches as your eyelashes flutter.

His touch is feather-light as he brushes a strand of hair away from your face.

You open your eyes slowly, momentarily confused by your surroundings. The sigh of your boyfriend crouching before you, his intense gaze locked with yours, brings you back to the present moment.

“Now look who is sleeping,” he teases. "All the work you put into waking me up, only to end up dozing off the moment you're away from me."

“Mmm, that breakfast did leave me feeling quite sleepy,” you murmur. Your hand emerges from beneath the blanket, reaching to grasp his own. You pull him towards you, his body falling atop yours. “Now, come join me for a short nap.”

Scaramouche chuckles. “Whatever this sleeping beauty wishes,” he responds as he slips under the blanket, snuggling his body against yours.

His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you closer to him. With every breath, you feel the rise and fall of his chest against your back, a rhythm that synchronizes with the pounding of your heart.

As his hold tightens, your body instinctively responds, melting into his embrace. The world around you fades away as you surrender yourself to the comfort and safety he provides — his hold becomes your little sanctuary.

"Don't forget, we still have chores to do," Scaramouche whispers, interrupting your blissful state of relaxation. "The apartment won't clean itself."

"Fuck the chores," you mumble, your voice barely audible as you press your head against Scaramouche's chest. "Now sleep."

Author's note: I failed one of my exams, so uh... I'll be studying for the resit and might be as online as I hoped to be 😫

#genshin x reader #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #genshin x you #genshin x y/n #scaramouche x y/n #wanderer x y/n #scaramouche x you #wanderer x you #genshin impact #genshin imagines #request #scaramouche #wanderer

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monoclesnapple · 23 days

Text

Rockstar!Chuuya

Bungo Stray Dogs Chuuya Nakahara X Gender Neutral Reader Beginning Note: Little hint of Streamer!Chuuya, but it's not the main focus. Thinking of making this a full fic, but with a lot of stuff on my plate at the moment and my motivation dwindling, it may be a while before I upload a chapter. Word Count: 594 (Fluff)

Rockstar Chuuya, who’s overwhelmed with fans prying into his life and trying to know everything there is about him.

Has an s/o who isn’t involved with his career, so they’re his only peaceful outlet in life.

Chuuya streams in his free time about anything. Sometimes he just talks with the chat, plays some games, reviews current events in the world and any future plans that can be disclosed to the public.

But he doesn’t include his s/o because he doesn’t want his fans to potentially target them due to jealousy or some other reason.

He’s shipped with popular actor, Dazai, because they’ve done a couple collaborations, whether for meet & greets, films, interviews, etc.

Assures his s/o that he won’t leave them ever because they’re the only one he feels comfortable with to be able to show them his vulnerability.

Whenever he streams, the number of viewers is overwhelming and they’re always asking for confirmation on who his lover is.

At some point, he’s tired of what his fans are saying, so he takes you to a restaurant that’s littered with people, instead of the usual empty location due to him going to the most expensive restaurant or booking the whole place.

All the paparazzi are taking pictures, and there are so many news articles questioning who this person is.

On his next stream, he seats you on his lap and tells his audience that he’s been dating you and won’t be leaving you any time soon.

He was worried that his fans would despise you, but the trending topics on his newly revealed relationship support the both of you.

Everyone now loves you because they think you fit him so well. Those who hate on the relationship are attacked by his fans.

Chuuya sees all the responses and feels a warmth in his chest because he’s glad that you’re accepted by his community.

Now, there are a lot of fanfiction shipping the two of you. You read most of them and are entertained by their strange fantasies of you both (although a little creeped out and hesitant about the smuts. Some fics, you’re a little worried).

Chuuya writes a song inspired by the events, and it’s successful. The music is cool and while the story told by the lyrics isn’t necessarily relatable, it makes sense.

At the end of one of his concerts, Chuuya calls you up to the stage where he gets down on one knee, holding a box with a beautiful ring, and proposes to you.

“You’ve always been by my side, no matter how hard it was to reassure my love for you. Despite everything that we’ve been through, you always made me feel loved and safe. I can’t and I won’t let someone like you leave. Will you do me the honor of marrying me?”

Of course you accept, pulling him up and kissing him. The audience and other members on the stage cheer and clap for your milestone. When you pull away, he slips the ring on your finger and kisses you again.

Rockstar!Chuuya Nakahara, who continues his career and plans your wedding with you. His bank account doesn’t require a budget.

Rockstar!Chuuya Nakahara, who eagerly and nervously waits for you at the alter. The two of you say your own vows and immediately kiss when the words “You may now kiss” are uttered.

Rockstar!Chuuya Nakahara, who is eventually granted a child and golden retriever. Whose happiness is impossible to describe with all the words in the dictionary.

Whose fast paced music matches the beat of your heart.

#bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs #bsd chuuya #chuuya nakahara #chuuya nakahara x reader #chuuya x reader #~writing~#~Headcanons~#Rockstar!Chuuya

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improbable-outset · 6 months

Text

📂 𝐈𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐂𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐬𝐨𝐧-𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐄𝐲𝐞𝐬

↳ 📂 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐈𝐈𝐈

Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader

𝐀𝐎3 | 𝐌𝐲 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 | 𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.7k

𝐓𝐖 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐖: Memory loss, heavy angst

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Miguel grapples with the complex emotions surrounding your memory loss and the events that caused it. Jess offers advice that paves the way to the challenge he faces ahead.

𝐀/𝐍: Header from @bloodandthestars

The first rays of Neuva York’s sunlight beamed through the slits of the window, casting a warm hue across the room. The distant sound of the city was slowly coming to life through the window with occasional car honking and pedestrians murmuring. Miguel couldn’t help but squinted at the sudden bright light that almost burnt his sockets, still sensitive to direct sunlight due to his genetic alteration. With his large hands, he shielded his vision as he sat up, the bed squeaked as he moved.

“Lyla, darken the windows. The sun is killing my eyes.” He demanded in a hushed voice so he wouldn’t wake you. Lyla’s digital presence appeared on his shoulder as a golden holographic projection.

“Good morning boss, windows are darken now.” The bedroom was now bathed in a comfortable semi-darkness but still had it’s comfortable warmth from the suns heat, with Lyla’s soothing voice filling the room. “You’ve got several priority calls waiting for you from HQ. Shall I connect you now?” She added.

Miguel was hesitant for a moment before his gaze fell on your peaceful sleeping form, completely obvious to what’s going on around you. To him you looked like a cherished masterpiece, serene and vulnerable, that he feared might slip away from his fingers. It already felt like you’ve disappeared from him even though you were physically here. It had only been a day since you were discharged from the hospital but it still felt like a perpetual dream for Miguel.

He couldn’t help the apprehension he was feeling as he watched you sleep, knowing that you could no longer recall the life you shared together and memories and milestones you’ve reached as husband and wife. It was a complex situation that he couldn’t quite put into words.

“In a bit.” He replied to Lyla finally, his voice woven with reluctance. His fingers brushed lightly against your cheek as he watched the gentle rhythm of your chest rising and falling as you slept.

Being the sophisticated AI that she is, Lyla quickly understood the reason behind Miguel’s hesitancy when her digital gaze shifted to the bed.

“I see. Take your time Miguel, your wife is lucky that you’re here.” She said. He could tell there was a hint of urgency hidden in her voice but was grateful she didn’t push him further. He was fully aware of the duties he needed to fulfill back in HQ but right now being with you felt like a higher priority especially during these trying times. It was the first morning in a year that he woke up next to you in your shared bed, so he wanted to make the most of it before he had to go.

Miguel continued to stoke your cheeks and ear. He knew he should be grateful that you just about made it alive and things didn’t turn out horribly wrong. But he still couldn’t shake off the nagging fear that you’d wake up and realise the extent of what had been taking from both of you.

For a fleeting moment, he was torn between his heroic responsibilities and his role as a devoted husband. The conflict raged in his mind like a battle between love and duty. With a heavy heart, he leaned in and kissed your brow and lingered there for a moment longer.

“I’ll be back mi vida. I promise.” He whispered before he reluctantly tore himself away from your side.

He couldn’t bear the thought of leaving you alone, not when you needed him the most. He didn’t want to imagine how you would feel when you woke up to an empty bed without him and in a home that you couldn’t even remember. But duty calls, as it always did, and he couldn’t neglect them especially with the multiverse hanging in its balance.

He stripped away his night outfit and engaged his digital Spider-Man suit with his watch. With a final glance at your sleeping form, Miguel left the room with the weight of his responsibilities pressing down on him and the tightening feeling in his chest. He had to navigate this new reality carefully for both of your sakes.

Miguel was usually renowned for keeping a tight lid on his feelings, a skill he’s mastered from leading a diverse group of Spider People over the years through thick and thin.

He rarely lets his vulnerable emotions surface, except for the occasional burst of temper when the multiverse was at stake or being tampered with by anomalies.

However, with his utmost perfectionism and the cool exterior, there was always going to be wavering cracks in his cold emotional armour. Most of the Spider Team wouldn’t notice, but Jessica Drew had a knack for picking up the hairline fractures in his stoic facade.

“I heard your wife woke up from her coma” Jess commented. Miguel was in his familiar digital suit, scanning every monitor surrounding him that showed an insight of different dimensions with his back to her.

Words and rumours spread throughout the Spider-Society like wildfire, whether he liked it or not, so he wasn’t surprised by the slightest that Jess picked up on the news. Miguel sighed, shoulders visibly tensing at the mention of his wife.

“She has,” he admitted. “But she doesn’t remember anything, about me or about our marriage.” Even without spider senses, Miguel could still sense Jess drawing herself close on the platform as she probed him further.

“Does she remember about the accident?” She asked.

His eyes were still glued to the holograms in front of him but he could tell that Jess was studying his subtle body language. “No, nothing at all.”

“Have you told her?” Miguel remained silent with an icy sensation running down his spine. He’d been dreading to hear that question, despite knowing it was inevitably going to be brought up. Unfortunately for him, his silence spoke volume. “Miguel…” Jess continued, she was standing beside him now, the marigold glow of the monitors reflecting on her goggles. “You’re gonna need to tell her eventually. Keeping secrets won’t help either of you. Sooner or later, she will find out.”

As much as he hated to admit it, Jess was right. It was one of the reasons she was recruited to the Spider-Society and was part of his inner circle. Even though she possessed a sympathetic nature, she was still firm and strict when she needed to be. The perfect maternal mentor and role model.

Miguel stayed silent for a moment, allowing the weight of Jess’ words to sink in. Despite the fact that she had a valid point, the fear of your reaction and the pain it might bring held him back. Will you forgive him? Will you even look at him the same? His mind swirled the further he thought about it.

He couldn’t bring himself to even imagine how you would react— he couldn’t bear to see you hurt, especially if it was caused by him. The blank expression you gave him the moment you opened your eyes from your coma was already unbearable enough.

He longed for those eyes to look up at him with admiration and love. He missed those moments where you would surprise him mid-duty and how your laugh would echo in the HQ building. Will he ever hear your melodious laughs again?

You were just rebuilding your trust with him and he didn’t want to shatter that fragile connection you had by bringing up the night of the incident that caused this whole mess. But the truth will come out and by then, Miguel will have no control over the situation. He had to tread through this with you carefully if he wanted a sensible outcome.

Finally, he turned to look at her with a deep sigh. “I know Jess, it’s just…it’s complicated. I don’t want to hurt her or put anything on her more than she can handle.” His voice faltered and he couldn’t uphold the cold demeanour any longer.

“I understand, Miguel. But sometimes the truth, no matter how painful, is the only way forward. I know you’ll figure it out. And I’ll be here for both of you when you do.” Miguel's shoulders relaxed a little as he willingly allowed himself to take her word for it.

As a married woman herself, she has had her own relationship experience and struggles so it was easy to trust her.

Before the incident, you and Jess were pretty close. Whenever she was off the clock, you would always spend hours chatting, sharing stories and offering each other advice on relationships and family. She was like a sister to you and was always readily available whenever you wanted fo vent. She even gave advice about motherhood when you and Miguel were discussing about having a baby in the future.

Miguel hoped that despite your memory loss, the deep and unique friendship you shared with Jess could eventually be rekindled.

His eyes drift back to the multiple screens, swiping his fingers over the golden holograms that displayed data from each dimension. Part of him wondered about an alternate dimension, one where you hadn’t suffered from memory loss and the accident never happened— a dimension where you were a content family.

But he knew he couldn’t change his timeline no matter how desperately he wanted to. The memory of witnessing the collapse of Gabriella’s demension after he disrupted the canon event by replacing his deceased variant replayed in his memory. After watching Gabi dissolve into nothingness, he carried that burden and had worked tooth and nail making sure nothing like that ever happened again.

Now, he had been granted the second chance in rebuilding a new family with you. But the parallel between your memory loss and Gabriella’s disappearance triggered a painful relapse of his grief, yet this time, there was a tinge of hope. Unlike Gabi’s dissolution, you remained tangible and he could still hold you him his arms. There was still a chance to recover what was lost.

“Thank you Jess…” he murmured with genuine gratitude in his tone, “It really means a lot.”

Miguel’s attention shifted back to the holograms, his thoughts still lingering about the complexity of the situation while Jess quietly left him to his thoughts.

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