#and I don't normally care about that; but like if you're trying to help then I feel like maybe that's a bit backwards
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i saw you wanted tasm Peter requests and I’m here to provide! 😭✨💕
how about a fake dating-ish meet cute where you feel scared walking home bc of some sketchy looking people following you and you grab Peter’s (who lives in the same building as you) hand and ask him to pretend to be your boyfriend and he readily goes along with it bc he’s always had a crush on you. I just think he would be so sweet and worried later when you get home bc you’d looked super scared
AN | No but I love this idea!! It’s sort of a meet-cute!❤️
Pairing | tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader
Warnings | mild language
Word Count | 2.5k
Masterlist | Main | Peter
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
You weren't drunk.
Not drunk-drunk anyway but mildly tipsy. Or wholly tipsy if you were being completely honest with yourself.
Anyways, that wasn't the problem, at least not entirely. Walking home through New York, late at night and tipsy by yourself, a young woman on her own, probably wasn't the best idea. But the party had dragged on and on and your friends had already left with their…friends for the night, and you were tired, hungry, and bored.
So you decided to walk home. You somehow managed to convince yourself that brisk evening stroll would make you feel better. You hadn't been wrong for the most part but as once you got closer to your apartment building, an uneasy feeling started settling into your stomach.
You looked around, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, but you could see that there were two guys that seemed to be watching you. You ignored it for a bit, but when you noticed that they seemed to cross every street that you could, and turned all the same corners, you grew worried.
Trying to keep the panic at bay and act normal proved to be difficult. You thought for a moment that you might have been paranoid or overreacting but you'd seen enough true crime documents to know that it was better to be safe than sorry.
Your salvation came in the form of the man that lived in the apartment across from you.
You vaguely knew him and were almost positive his name was Peter Parker. You just hoped right now that he'd help.
Speeding up, you caught up to him a few moments, quickly reaching for his arm and stepping in front of him.
“Hi, hi,” your eyes were wide and he immediately grew concerned, “I know we don't really know each but we live in the same building, you're actually across the hall from me. I - this is - can you please pretend to be my boyfriend? Just for a little bit? There's these two guys that have been following me for a while now and I'm-”
“It’s okay,” he whispered, gently cutting you off as he instinctively reached for your hand. It felt like a huge weight had been lifted as you laced your fingers through his and fell into step with him, “I'll take care of you.”
You squeezed his arm, “thank you.”
He nodded and turned around a corner to see the men you were referring to. When he spotted the duo that you had to be talking about, he shot them a warning glare. At a few moments, he could see realization cross their features before they seemingly altered their path.
He made sure to keep an eye out on the rest of the way back to the building. Luckily he didn't see them again. He hoped that they hadn't decided to go and find someone else.
It felt like you could breathe again as you pulled your hand from his and turned to face him. You were taken aback for a moment by how beautiful he was. Sure, you'd been him around the building plenty of times before but you'd never gotten to look at him this closely.
“Thank you,” your voice was soft - gentle - was you offered him a small smile, “I thought that maybe I was going crazy for a bit and then I kept seeing them. I just didn't want anything to happen. Thank you for probably saving me from them. It's, sorry, you're Peter, right?”
“I am,” he nodded as you offered him your hand for a proper shake and introduction. He said your name and you looked at him in surprise, “we've been neighbors a while and I just…caught it sometime. I'm glad I found you too. Are you sure you're okay?”
“I'm cold, hungry, and slightly buzzed but I'm alright,” you promised, “thanks to you. I swear I owe you big time.”
“You don't owe me anything,” he insisted as he started to shrug off his zip-up sweater. He'd noticed the dress you were wearing and wondered if you'd been cold. He held it out to you, causing you to look at him with sweet eyes, “take it. I don't want you to be cold.”
You already knew better than to argue with him so you gratefully it took and slipped it on, immediately overwhelmed by his delicious scent, “thank you, Peter.”
“Do you want to get something to eat?” He wasn't entirely sure if he'd meant to ask, but it just sort of blurted out, “I-I was thinking about ordering some pizza.”
Liar. He was a damned dirty liar. He hadn't thought about pizza but he also hadn't wanted to let you just leave to go to your apartment. Not now, not yet.
“Yeah?” Your face lit up and he nodded shyly. He'd order the whole pizzeria if you wanted just from that smile alone, “that sounds good.”
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
Realistically, you probably shouldn't have just trusted Peter so readily, especially since you'd just had the run-in with the creeps on your walk home. But there was something about Peter that told you that he was trustworthy.
So you didn't hesitate to follow him up the stairs to the floor where both of your apartments were. You stopped instinctively at your door and Peter paused for a moment.
“Listen, I don't want to make you uncomfortable or anything,” you appreciated the fact that he seemed to be able to read your mind, “do you want to meet on the fire escape once the pizza's here?”
“Yeah,” you nodded softly, “I'll see you in a little bit.”
“Sounds good,” he started to open his door but quickly turned around, “wait! I didn't even ask you what kind of pizza you like.”
Your laugh was pretty as you turned and gave him your requests. He offered you a small salute before both of you went into your respective apartments. You closed the door gently and leaned against it, letting out a small sigh.
This evening had definitely taken a turn that you hadn't been expecting. But somehow, it turned out a lot better than you had imagined. Plus, you finally got to really meet and speak to the cute boy next door. He'd caught your eye from the moment he'd moved into the building, but you'd never quite managed to work up the courage to say anything besides the neighborly hello here and there. And now…now you were wearing his sweater and going to have pizza with him.
You almost danced to your bedroom and spent entirely too much time trying to pick out something comfortable but cute. You wanted to be warm and cozy but didn't want to look like you were trying too hard.
You ended up settling on a pair of leggings and a t-shirt, but pulled Peter's sweater back on. You wanted to hang onto it for as long as possible. You managed to slide on your slippers as you heard a knock on your door.
“Pull yourself together,” you hissed at your reflection, “and act normal…somewhat normal.”
Slowing your walk to the door, you opened it in an attempt to look casual. Peter had the same idea and had changed into a pair of gray sweatpants and a white t-shirt. You almost choked on your spit at the sight. What a bastard.
“Ready for some pizza?” You nodded as you followed him towards the fire escape at the end of the hall. He slid open the window and stepped out, offering you his hand to help you. You didn't hesitate to take his hand, trying not think too much about his large his hand was compared to yours, “nice sweater by the way.”
“You better watch it or I'm going to steal it forever,” Peter really liked the sound of your laugh. He wanted to bottle it up and keep it with him forever.
“Keep it,” he insisted sweetly, “looks better on you anyway.”
“Stop,” you groaned as you sat down, gently pushing his side, “that's how you get a girl to call in love with you.”
“Oh?” He raised an eyebrow as his cheeks pinked, “is it working then?”
He didn't know why he felt so bold or what had gotten into him but he was feeling something. Maybe it was just your magnetic presence but there was something about you that made him feel so warm and comfortable.
“Peter,” you weren't about to admit that the answer was yes so you just scoffed and rolled your eyes playfully, “I should have said makes all other girls fall in love.”
“Mhmm,” he opened the pizza box and nudged angled it towards you, “dig in. I hope you like it because it's from one of my favorite places.”
“It better be good then or I'm afraid I'll never speak to you again,” you teased, grabbing a slice and taking a big bite. Peter watched you with an amused as you quickly realized that this was indeed delicious pizza. You quickly finished the rest of the slice before offering him a nod, “alright you've passed this test. The pizza is delicious.”
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
“It's getting pretty late,” you said softly as you looked at the softly glowing screen of your phone. It was a lot later than you had realized; the two of you had ended up talking for hours, the pizza all but gone, “we should probably head inside.”
“Yeah,” he agreed reluctantly, “you're right.”
“I had a good time though,” you promised as he nodded shyly, “thanks for saving me tonight…and all of this. It's times like this that remind me that not all people are terrible.”
“It's no problem,” he insisted, “I'm glad I was there when you needed me. I had a good time tonight, regardless of how we got here.”
“Me too,” you offered his shoulder a squeeze before heading back inside and waiting for him to do the same, “I'll see you around, Peter.”
“See you around,” the two of you went into your respective apartments and you quietly shut the door, trying to hold in your sounds of excitement. Your night had taken a complete 180 but you weren't complaining. You'd been wanting to meet the boy for the last couple of years and now that you'd gotten to spend some time with him, you only wanted more.
The question then was - how do you spend more time with Peter Parker without making it obvious you might have fallen in love with him?
You’d figured that out sometime later. Right now you were going to soak all of the good feelings you had into your body as you went to bed.
Little did you know that just across the hall, Peter was doing the exact thing.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
You tried to run into Peter after that evening whenever you could. You would slowly leave for work in the morning and then take your sweet time coming home in the hopes that you would run into him somewhere in the building. But over the next couple of weeks, you managed to have no luck. It suddenly seemed like he had an opposite schedule of yours. For a moment you wondered if it was on purpose, but you knew that he wouldn’t do that.
Peter was hoping for the same thing; work and his…extracurricular activities kept him busier than ever. He had to be at the lab early in the mornings and often wasn’t coming home till the midnights hours. There were a few times when he’d contemplated knocking on your door, even if he just got to see your pretty face for a few moments. But he didn’t want to disturb you so he kept on waiting for the right moment to see you again.
It turned out that the right moment happened to be when you were getting ready to go out with some friends one evening and Peter was coming home, looking run down and tired. His face and entire being lit up at the sight of you. Your heart was beating so fast that you were sure that he would be able to hear it (unbeknownst to you, he definitely heard it) or it would burst out of your chest.
“Hey-”
“Hi-” the two of you spoke at the same time before looking at each other sheepishly. You felt like your entire face was on fire as you looked at your feet for a moment to study your nerves, “hey Peter. I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.”
“I know,” he tried to contain his excitement when he realized that you had been missing him as well, “I can’t believe our luck. For years we saw each other all the time and now…nothing. Kind of feels like the universe is laughing at us.”
“I thought about coming over,” you admittedly sheepishly, “but I didn’t want to bug you. I wasn’t sure how you late you were working or…yeah.”
“I thought about the same thing,” he confessed as you grinned at him, “but I’ve been working longer hours so I’d get home late and didn’t want to bother you.”
“You wouldn’t have been a bother,” you shrugged it off, trying to make it seem like no big deal when in fact it was a huge deal.
“Good to know,” he huffed a small laugh before clearing his throat, “I should, ugh, let you go. I don’t want to keep you from your date or whatever plans you have.”
“It’s not a date,” you said quickly, wanting to shut that train of thinking down right away, “I was just going to meet a few friends for dinner and drinks.”
“Cool,” he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t relieved to hear that, “I hope you have fun.”
“Unless you’re not busy and want to get dinner,” you only had a bit of courage left as you got the words, wondering how he’d react, “like together I mean.”
“I’m not busy, I’m free,” his stomach felt like it was doing backflips, “but are you sure?”
“Yeah, I’ll just text my friends,” you waved your hand dismissively as you pulled out your phone, “they won’t mind. Trust me.”
They really wouldn’t. They’d been hoping and rooting for you to get with the pretty boy next door for some time now.
“Cool,” that was an understatement, “let me just go and change and then we can go. I’ll come to yours in a few minutes.
“Okay,” you breathed nervously, unable to hide the smile on your face.
“Okay,” he agreed softly, his eyes and smile big and pretty, “luckily this time it’ll only be a few minutes and not weeks.”
“It was too long.”
“Definitely.”
#peter parker#peter parker x reader#peter parker x you#peter parker x fem!reader#peter parker one shot#peter parker imagine#andrew!peter#andrew garfield#tasm!peter
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Fall of Númenor Dashboard Simulator
🦢 fruitofnimloth Following
I don't know what kind of propaganda everyone's been drinking lately, but some of y'all are really starting to scare me.
So friendly reminder:
We're not. Meant. To be immortal.
We already have a longer lifespan than most normal humans. Stop being so entitled, y'all.
💎 immortal-warrior Follow
How is it entitled to think that it's unfair that we don't get to be immortal? If it weren't for us, Sauron would've conquered all of Middle-earth!
We deserve immortality for kicking Sauron's ass!
🦢 fruitofnimloth Following
This is exactly the kind of entitlement I was talking about.
#my posts #the gift of men
( 23,456 notes )
🔥 priestess-of-melkor Follow
You became Melkor's acolyte to gain immortality.
I became Melkor's acolyte to
✨ fuck Zigûr ✨
We are not the same.
( 560 notes )
🛡️ lordofandunie18 Follow
CALLOUT FOR AR-PHARAZÔN
This will be my very last post.
For the sake of Númenor, I have to try and appeal to the Valar, just as Eärendil did back in the First Age. If I fail to return, I want all of my followers to pack up and prepare to leave. It's only a matter of time before this island comes to ruin.
Before I leave, I must spread the truth about the king. Though it pains me to do this, I cannot stand by and let his cruelty pass anymore. Here's the truth about Ar-Pharazôn, King of Númenor.
TW: rape, incest, domestic abuse, blasphemy against the Valar, violence.
Read more
( 36 notes )
🌾 farmgirlofnumenor Following
Okay, anyone else seriously angry about this new temple that the king's building right now???
Before anyone yells at me, I'm not a Faithful, but I'm not one of the King's Men. I'm just sick of the king's overspending on stupid projects and his obsession with becoming immortal.
There are food shortages in the countryside! People are starving to death and all the king cares about is building this temple! But all these nobles care about is immortality, and I'm just so tired of it all.
Oh, and if you come at me about how I should be blaming the Valar or worshiping Melkor, I will block you.
🌿 forest-lover Follow
Well said, my friend!
All the people criticizing you in the notes must be city people feeling so called out for spending their money on cheap makeup and fake treatments. If you feel insulted by this post, then you're part of the problem.
Quit focusing on making yourselves immortal and focus on helping your people for once!
( 150 notes )
👑 jewel-daughter-miriel Following
The storms are growing worse. The ground is shaking beneath my feet, and I can see smoke coming from the Meneltarma.
This will most likely be my last post. Númenor is lost, and there's no hope of saving it.
I can only hope that the end will come quickly.
( 50 notes )
🕊️ pelargirl Mutuals
Istg the King's Men are so entitled.
They all act like they deserve immortality because they happen to have longer lifespans than most humans.
But you're all ready to sacrifice innocent people and wage war in the south, all because you kicked Sauron's ass thousands of years ago.
You're all awful people and I hope that Eru smites you all.
#i'm so glad i fled to pelargir #to all my faithful friends still in romenna #please stay safe #vent posts #do not reblog
( 9 notes )
🦂 harad-traveller Follow
Reblog if you want a giant wave to swallow Númenor
Likes to charge, reblogs to cast!
💠 long-live-westernesse Follow
Wow, this is so rude. We literally introduced so many things to you Haradrim and this is how you thank us???
And y'all wonder why we destroyed your cities.
🏜️ deserts-of-the-south Follow
Anyways, reblog to destroy Númenor!
#entitled numenoreans
( 500,738 notes )
⚔️ soldier-of-armenelos Follow
*kicks down door*
WAKE UP BABES WE'RE INVADING THE UNDYING LANDS
LET'S GOOOOOOOO!!!!
( 5,650 notes )
🐋 nostalgic-numenor Follow
The coastline of Hyarrostar, before the Shadow
#vintage photos #numenor #faithful #elendili #hyarrostar #nostalgia
( 365 notes )
🐚 faithful-and-tired Following
Is it bad that I actually kinda enjoy watching Númenor sink? I mean, it sucks that my home is gone, but after everything that Ar-Pharazôn did, I'm just glad that the trash took itself out.
I hope Sauron also got swept up in that wave.
🌊 maidenofandustar Follow
Bro people are dying wtf is wrong with you???
I say this as someone whose sister was sacrificed by the King's Men. I know we all suffered, but not all of those people were King's Men!
We should never celebrate innocent people dying, or we're no better than Ar-Pharazôn and Sauron.
🐚 faithful-and-tired Following
Girl my entire family was sacrificed in the Temple of Melkor.
I really don't care about 'being the bigger person'.
I just hope Ar-Pharazôn and all of those pathetic King's Men are drowning like rats right now.
( 115 notes )
🗡️ isildur3209 Following
We finally arrived in Middle-earth. It was a rough journey, but we're all safe, if not a little tired.
My brother, wife, and son are safe and sound. However, we got separated from our father's ship thanks to the waves. Don't know what we're gonna do, but for now, I'm gonna take some time to rest and grieve for my home.
#personal #numenor
( 45 notes )
Previous post here
#the silmarillion#silmarillion#the silm fandom#the silm#the fall of numenor#akallabeth#amandil#isildur#tar miriel#sauron#numenor#tolkien#jrr tolkien#middle earth dashboard simulator#dashboard simulator#tw unreality
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After you (PART 4)
(Reader!Nanami's widower / Gojo Satoru)
"What do you think about a small house with a huge garden full of flowers? Like very very very different flowers?" You chuckled at your request as you lay on your husbands lap under the tree at the park. Nanami chuckled ruffling your hair, "whatever your heart desires, even if I have to build that house with my own hands." You gasped faking a surprised face, "look at you being so cute!" He rolled his eyes laughing with you and kissing the ring finger. "I can't wait to grow old with you."
The two boys; Megumi and Choso fell asleep on your lap as the TV played on random cartoon with Yuji in his little pillow bed placed on the other side of the couch. Satoru was putting away the dishes even when you told him to let them and that you'll clean them but he insisted on helping.
"They are sleeping?" Satoru said in a low voice when he appeared behind you, "do you need anything before I head out sweets?"
You wanted to ask him to get your boys to bed since you were terrified you'll accidentally drop them like you almost did earlier, but you just shook your head at his question. He smiled, "You sure?" You just nodded with a small smile, "call me if you need anything? Seriously just call me and I'll be here no matter the time. Hhm?"
You smiled resting your hand on Choso and Megumi's head, "thank you for today, I don't know how to thank you sat-" your voice cracked, "damn it I don't know why I keep crying." You tried to laugh at it but ended up tearing up.
Satoru immediately gathered Megumi and Choso from your lap and placed them on the other couch before sitting beside you and pulling you in a hug as you cried trying to not wake the kids, "Why him? Why my Nanami? Why not me-"
"Don't say that! Shhh" Satoru rubbed your back as you cried. "I'm sorry I'm such an idiot for not holding on as much I'm supposed to, I feel so stupid-'.
"You're not stupid for feeling sadness, stop saying that. It's normal to cry, it's okay to cry and the grief is something that we all feel, so please don't day these things about yourself. Do you want me to stay? I can stay if you want me to help you with the kids, I might know how you are feeling right now but I was once, remember when Megumi's mama passed away? You were there for me. You helped me more than anyone and I want to be there for you."
You shook your head moving away as you whipped the tears away, "I know but you've already done enough. I-I just want to be able to do it myself, I can't ask you to stay around forever-"
"Tell me and I will." Satoru interpreted you, "w-what?" You asked confused. He sighed placing both his hands on your shoulders, "if you want me to stay around forever I will, just tell me that you feel like I'm worthy to be around you and the kids so I can help you in everything. Please?"
You slowly pushed his hands away and looked away from him because you knew what he was saying what hurt the most is that you knew that Nanami would agree with it but you didn't want to, you didn't want to let go.
You moved away from where you sat not looking at Satoru at all. He reached his hand but stopped before placing it on your shoulder, "I'm sorry it I overstepped, but you know I will always be here for you, please take care." With that, he grabbed Megumi and headed towards the door. You heard the door open and shut. You sobbed again, covering your face in your hands.
#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jujutsu kaisen#jjk gojo#gojou satoru x reader#satoru x you#gojo satoru x reader#satoru x reader#soft gojo#gojo dad#dad gojo#gojo x reader#gojo jjk#gojo satoru#jujutsu nanami#kento nanami#jjk nanami#nanami kento#jujutsu gojo#gojo satoru angst
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Ok ok I just had an Absolute Idea
So it's a bad dad Bruce ok
And Jason is dating someone (Bruce thinks they're civilian, if they are or not is up to you)
But like he'd def show up as batman to warn them away from Jason, and he's justifying it as not wanting a civilian to be hurt. But in reality anytime Jason has a meaningful/healthy/even slightly normal relationship (that could lead to him drastically decreasing his rouge activity in the long run!) Bruce interferes and it's actually causing Jason serious hurt. Which increases Jason's emotionally fueled crime sprees. But Bruce sees it as saving someone from a murderous crime lord, and Jason is clearly being worse in frustration over losing someone he can have control over. (Bruce can you not see your own reflection or what bc that's what YOU do, not what Jason's ever done). If Jason knows about this I wonder if he thinks Bruce sees him as Willis. Like his idea of being replaced by a high society version of robin wasn't enough, now Bruce is assuming he's going to abuse his partners because blood doesn't mean anything unless you're street trash.
But this latest partner, when warned, laughed in Batman's face? Clearly they don't understand.... But then they tell batman "if I didn't know I could beat him, I would never have asked him out". And if they secretly aren't a civilian, they are telling the complete truth. But Bruce being Bruce, especially if comics Bruce would try to beat up said partner. To make sure if they were actually capable, which would make them a threat, of course. Bc comics Bruce has in some issues actively done harm to Jason, even orchestrating his certain death if he tries to do anything bat/crime related. But he won't do that to joker???
Anyways I want this paramour to soundly beat batman and handing him off to whoever will actively humiliate him the most while not killing him bc they don't want the rest of the bats after them. But it's like Harley, who Knows, so she unmasks him and does a livestream with Bruce Wayne tied to a chair telling embarrassing stories from college. Harvey dent shows up to help with more stories.
I just want Bruce being fucking owned
Just Bruce being taken out by some random ass character is great!
Bad dad Bruce does seem like the controlling type to micromanage his childrens' relationships (especially if he doesn't trust them). There's levels to this type of emotional abuse, control, and manipulation. In this AU, I hope Harley and Harvey humiliate the shit out of Bruce for that. Fuck him.
I also feel for Jason and wish him all the happiness he can obtain. He deserves a caring, thoughtful, and present partner who cherishes him. Just a supportive person to make him laugh and reassure him.
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hi, so idk if u still write for canucks nils hoglander, so if you don't im so sorry for bothering you. if you do, would you be able to write an imagine where nils is interested in one of the canucks employees, like social media or reporter and is trying to ask her out but fails multiple times before eventually with some help asking her out?
You're A Forbidden Delicacy, And I Won't Leave A Crumb
Hey y’all! And hello to the lovely requester! I still do write for Nils, so thank you for the request (which I really love and got carried away with). I really apologize to everyone for how long this has taken me, my life has been all over the place and I am still trying to get things sorted out, but I truly, from the bottom of my heart appreciate the patience you all have. This is a Nils Höglander fic, with a F!Reporter!Reader, which is a little longer than what my stories are normally. I hope you all enjoy this fic, and please remember to take care of yourself!
Word Count: 6.1k
Pairing: Nils Höglander x F!Reader
Warnings: Romantic tension, kissing? (Let me know if I need to add anything)
—
—
A knock was heard on the door to her office, where she was deep in her work preparing for tonight’s game, followed by the familiar voice of her colleague and friend.
“Hey lovely! Here are the spreadsheets and rundown of the stats from the last three games,” her friend said, setting a few papers on her desk.
She smiled back and felt a wave of relief. “Thank you,” she sighed. “I was wondering when the stats would come in from my favorite data analyst.”
“Oh, stop,” she chuckled. “You know how playoffs are.”
She nodded in agreement, noticing that the energy within the air, and more specifically, the arena, was more electrifying than ever.
Looking up from the documents, she saw one of the players walk by the door, giving her a smile and a friendly wave before walking off. She knew him, Nils Höglander, but she had only had small-talk and nothing more.
Her friend looked over her shoulder, a knowing smile appearing on her face. “Someone caught your eye?”
The blush on her face seemed to intensify, almost shamefully like a kid caught with candy. “No—” Taking a quick sip of her water, she hoped that the warmth on her face eased up.
“Alright, take it easy, go Canucks!” she cheered as she walked out of the office.
A smile made its way to her face as she turned back to her work. “Go Canucks!”
An hour or two passed by as she worked on reading the documents, preparing how she was going to announce the pregame reports, and making sure everything was finalized and set.
It was a fun, fast-paced job that kept her on her toes constantly, and she thrived in it, living in the rush and wanting more of the adrenaline. More rowdiness from the fans, more chants and cheers, and more passion from the city that was hungry for a cup.
“Hello?”
She drew her attention away from her laptop and towards her door, where she saw Quinn standing there, gear still on from the morning skate and practice.
“Hi Quinn, how can I help you?”
He scanned her desk, seemingly searching for something before his eyes landed on her coffee.
“What’s your go-to Tim’s order?” he asked.
She looked at him quizzically, wondering why he asked such a question out of the blue, but didn’t think too much about it. “Vanilla latte, why?”
“Nothin’” he shrugged, clearly more than nothing. “Have a nice day.” He walked away with a sly smile, making her more confused than nothing.
“You…too, Quinn,” she said, looking at her coffee with suspicion.
As she took a sip, it tasted the same still, maybe a little more room temperature, but nothing odd or wrong.
A few more hours passed, and before she knew it, the clock was counting down till puck drop. The arena already felt alive, the familiar blue and green decor that hung around her office reminding her.
She got up from her desk, making her way out of her office as her shoes tapped on the floor, echoing down the hall. Having all the important information and stats in her mind, she felt confident about how tonight’s game will go.
When she made it near the rink, she was greeted by a few other of her co-workers, as well as the media crew for the team, gear and equipment and smiles all set. The ice in the rink looked fresh and crisp, ready for a tough game.
“Ready for Game Six?” One of her co-workers asked.
She smiled and straightened up her posture, pride swelling within her. “Born ready. Go ‘Nucks.”
As the camera went live, everything else came naturally to her. The confidence, the excitement, and the adrenaline.
“Welcome back to Bridgestone Arena everyone, where tonight, the Canucks will face off again against the Nashville Predators in Game Six of the Stanley Cup Playoffs, hoping to eliminate the Predators, and advance to the second round.”
The arena started to fill up with fans, mainly fans of the Predators, but there were a few Canucks jerseys spread throughout.
Skaters headed out onto the ice, preparing to warm up as the arena cheered for each side, hoping that their team would win tonight’s game.
Adrenaline. Euphoria. Pride. So many emotions swelling inside of her, and she felt so alive and yet lost in a dream.
“As the Canucks hope to grab a win, the spotlight stands on the top players, with Boeser having four goals in this post-season, all within the past three games, and J.T. Miller with six points, pushing the Canucks forward in the playoffs,”
The statistics sounded impressive, and even on paper they looked unbelievable, but it was the Canucks, and she saw the potential long ago as they were developing.
One player especially caught her eye, but she would never admit to who, because it was mainly extremely unprofessional of her, and also because of the complications it could bring up.
And as if the devil cursed her thoughts, she met his eyes as the media crew was moved behind the bench, sharing a smile as he went and got a quick sip of his water before skating back out onto the ice.
“Hoping Höglander scores huh?”
She turned her head quickly to the voice her friend before turning away, hoping she didn’t see the blush that was dusted on her cheeks.
“Best hope is that every Canuck scores one,” she laughed, trying to push the topic somewhere else.
Her friend let out an exasperated sigh, “Oh gosh, and I’d be the one needing to calculate all the stats,”
As the warmups came to an end, a few of the players returned to the bench, Nils being one of them, and he gave her a quick smile and wave before refocusing on the game that his teammates were playing.
With quick plays and quick movements, the puck moved up and down the ice, from offense to defense, keeping everyone in the arena on their toes.
Fans roared with each close call, the atmosphere buzzing, static in the air, and before she knew it, the first intermission was starting.
The players poured into the tunnel, making their way back to the locker room after no goals from either team in the first period. Tensions still felt high, like a cord that could snap at any moment.
She waited out on the bench, fiddling with a pen and her notepad as her manager was trying to find one of the players to interview for a brief moment, hoping to get a word or two about the current game.
After a few minutes, she saw Brock walking out with her manager, a gentle expression on his face as usual.
The interview went smoothly as the rest of the night did, with one goal from the Canucks that led to a win as they advanced to the next round of the playoffs.
In the locker room afterwards, the locker room was rowdy, players and coaches celebrating their win with as much energy as they could. It set the stage for greatness, hope lingering in the air for a long playoff run.
Across the locker room from the doorway she stood under, her eyes met Nils, looking slightly disheveled, a mess even, but he still looked so, fulfilling. He smiled when he noticed her gaze, his eyes crinkling up.
And as the night eased in, the sky outside a crisp darkness, she walked to her car in the parking lot, her work bag slung over her shoulder as she was ready to go home, exhausted, but at ease.
A gentle smile was plastered on her face, gratitude for every little thing she worked so hard for to end up in the career field she was in, all the work paying off.
As she reached for the car door, she saw a figure walking towards her, at a rather quick pace, and she rushed to try and unlock the car.
The footsteps came closer, near stomping against the ground, and she felt panic.
“Hey! Wait, I need to talk to you!”
Turning her head quickly, her unease didn’t seem to dissipate despite the slightly familiar voice.
She unlocked her door frantically, got inside and locked it immediately, trying to recompose herself, still clutching her bag against her.
The man tapped on the window, causing her to lose the color in her face for a quick moment before realizing that it was Nils.
Letting out a breath, relief filled her, but she quickly started to scold him. “Nils, what the hell!”
“Sorry, sorry, I wanted to ask you a question,” he said sheepishly, voice muffled by the fact that he was outside.
She rolled down the window, a tight lipped smile on her face. “Yes?” Noticing how he seemed to fidget awkwardly, her expression slowly changed to concern. “Is everything alright?”
“Yeah, yeah,” he responded. “I was just wondering if you wanted to grab dinner with me sometime, I’d like to get to know you more,”
His face was a pinkish tint, illuminated by the interior light of her car. A warm blush started to envelope her face at his question, but she knew it felt wrong.
“Nils, I’m sorry but as much as I would like that, it would be unprofessional for the both of us, and we could lose our job.” Her tone remained professional, but there was a twinge of somberness within it.
A disappointed, but understanding smile appeared on his face. “I get it.” He was still sweet as ever, and she even felt a little guilty at her answer. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”
“Alright, have a good night Nils, you did great tonight,” she smiled.
Smiling back, he gave her a nod of appreciation. “You did as well. Have a good night,”
He walked away from her car, looking back only once to notice that she kept her eyes on him, but pulled away when he saw.
She drove away, off into the night where the traffic died down, and where the Vancouver glow was as dreamy as it always was to her, an ageless magic.
Morning came, sunrise bright and early as she arrived back at the arena. There was no game planned for the day, only practice and training to prepare for the next game.
As she walked down the hall to her office, she noticed that her door was open, despite having locked it the night before. The only people who were also in the arena as early as her were the players, coaches, and athletic trainers.
Stepping into her office, she saw a cup of coffee placed on her desk, along with a sticky note beside it. It smelt familiar, and as she took a sip, she noticed that it was her order.
She read the sticky note, and it was a sweet message from Nils hoping that her day would go well, and a smile drawn at the end.
It was a sweet gesture, and she couldn’t stop herself from smiling at the note as she read it over again, somehow trying to dissect a deeper meaning.
“Oh, so you found it,” Quinn chuckled.
Startled by his sudden presence, she jumped, spilling a little bit of coffee on her sweater.
“Ow!” Yelping in slight pain, her face was hot in embarrassment. “Sorry, I’m okay,” she laughed nervously, attempting to somehow magically wipe the stain away.
“I should apologize,” he said, grabbing some tissues from her desk. “Nils is not going to be too happy with me for making you spill coffee on your clothes,”
Like clockwork, he walked by her office and saw the commotion, brow perked up in curiosity. “What about me?”
Turning her head over to look at him, she had a sheepish smile, still holding the note and coffee in her hands. “Hi, Nils.”
He noticed the stain on her clothes, and motioned to her to give him a minute as he ran off, leaving both Quinn and her confused.
Setting the tissues on the table, he muttered out an apology before running off after Nils down the hall.
Now, she was even more confused, unsure of everything that had happened. Putting everything down, she settled on just starting on her work, checking emails and the schedule for the day.
Minutes passed by, and her friend knocked on the door to her office, handing her the spreadsheets of the statistics.
“Good morning lovely, I got you your stats in case anyone was up for interviews today,” she said, still sweet as ever.
Giving her a light laugh, she shook her head. “Thanks, but no thanks. Spilled coffee on myself and I don’t think I’d like to be on camera today.” She pointed to her clothes.
“Awh, really? That’s terrible,” she sighed, sitting down in the chair in front of her desk. “If I had a spare shirt, I’d give it to you in a heartbeat.”
She put her hand over her heart, “Really? You’re always so sweet,”
Another knock came on her door, and they both looked up from her laptop and documents. Nils was standing here under the doorframe, holding a Canucks sweatshirt in his hands.
“Did I interrupt something?” His voice was barely above a whisper, careful and cautious.
She shook her head with a smile, motioning for him to come in. “Not at all,”
Her friend gave her a smirk and a knowing look. “I need to go get something from my office, see you near the rink,” she said, standing up and walking out of her office.
It was just him standing and her sitting in the office now, the hum of her speakers playing music softly, and time flowed like a river of honey.
The way he looked at her was gentle, warm, and she wanted him to keep looking at her like this forever. His slightly disheveled hair made him look even more raw, something in its purest form.
“I got you one of my sweatshirts,” he spoke softly, afraid to break the air that seemed so intoxicating. “So you don’t have to wear the one with the coffee stain.”
His eyes seemed to observe her every movement, trailing up her arm and to her face as she looked up at him.
She placed her hand on his forearm cautiously, afraid of him pulling away. “You didn’t have to Nils, I’m alright.”
Shaking his head, he wouldn’t take her words. “I insist,”
Her hand moved towards the sweatshirt hesitantly, eyes still looking at him, and stopping before actually reaching it.
“It’ll look better on you, and probably more comfortable.” His voice was quiet, his words easing from his lips.
Silently nodding, she accepted the sweatshirt from his hands as he kept his gaze on her. The air was hot and thick, like a jelly-dessert with extra sweet whipped cream dolloped on the top, a tart maraschino reminding her of the consequences if she made a mistake.
She got up from her desk, walking over to the door of her office. “I’ll go change into this, you can stay a little longer.” Twisting the doorknob, she walked out, leaving Nils still standing there in her office, leaning against the desk.
When she came back from the bathroom, his Canucks sweatshirt on her loosely, holding her stained sweater, he was still there, just as she hoped, but yet, she felt the fear of being caught creeping up on her.
“Don’t you have practice?” she asked, voice careful.
He tilted his head quizzically, almost pondering her words delicately. “You know I have more than a few minutes to spare,” he said, walking over to her. “Most of the guys don’t come into the locker room until ten anyways.”
His hand trailed to the bottom hem of her sweatshirt, fiddling with the fabric between his fingers. Looking up at her, he searched for any sign of discomfort, and she stood there, looking back at him, blushed and flustered, wanting more of him.
“Don’t be so nervous, it’s just us in here,” he whispered. “This looks a lot better on you than it does on me, keep it.”
As he let go of the sweatshirt, she found herself wanting to feel his touch on it again, but when she looked up, he was already waving good-bye as he walked out of her office.
A sigh escaped her lips, unaware of the breath that she held. She walked back to her desk, flipping through the documents as she waited for time to pass.
None of it felt real. The past few moments, or even days, were slightly different and odd. Maybe it was the rush of the playoffs, skewing everything into a different perspective, or maybe, it was something else that she was too afraid to admit.
Her phone buzzed on her desk, causing her to be pulled away from her work.
We need you near the ice right now - Fav Data Analyst
No you don’t?
Yeah you’re right, but I miss you :( - Fav Data Analyst
Okay, be down in a bit
Smiling at the messages, she felt grateful for how tight-knit the crew seemed to be, feeling like a second family.
Shortly later, she was met with the smile and wave of her friend, calling her over to the bench. A few other members of the media and training crew were also at the bench, watching the practice unfold in front of them.
“So glad you’re here, it gets a little lonely,”
She looked at her in slight confusion, “With all these people around you?” She gestured.
“They’re not you,” her friend shrugged.
Laughing at her words, she noticed that it caught the attention of Nils on the ice, his eyes almost burning into her for a brief moment.
“You’re such a flirt, unnecessary.”
Her friend raised a brow at her, observing the sweatshirt that she was wearing. “I think that the only thing unnecessary is the fact that I’m one-hundred percent sure I’ve seen that sweatshirt somewhere,”
Rose tinted her cheeks as she felt slightly embarrassed, knowing that her friend knew exactly where she got the sweatshirt from.
A few minutes passed by, and she saw that Nils was skating back to the bench to grab a drink of his water. The way he looked at her while taking a sip could only be described as desire, eyeing her up like a kid looking at pastries from outside the glass.
His scruff seemed to fit him perfectly, rough and raw, and at the same time, gentle like himself. The playoffs definitely ignited something in him, and she found herself wanting to watch it all.
Before she could realize, practice was over, and the players were skating off of the ice one by one. Grabbing her bag, she walked back up to where her office was.
It was nearing lunch time, but she wanted to tidy up her office space a bit before heading out. She put the documents that her friend gave to her in a folder, placing it inside of her bag along with her laptop.
The cup of coffee from Nils was still on her desk, finished and empty, and so she threw it in the trash, but kept the handwritten note.
As she locked the door to her office, she turned around and bumped directly into Nils, crashing into him.
“Shoot! I’m so sorry—”
“You’re okay.”
His strong hands were placed on the sides of her arms, stabilizing her. Looking at him, he was slightly flushed, a bead of sweat or two lining his brow from the practice.
“Sorry, where are you headed?” he asked, hands quickly moving off of her when he noticed what he was doing. “Just wondering, I don’t mean to be weird or anything—”
“Don’t worry about it, Nils. I’m just headed to the Chipotle nearby for a quick lunch,” she said lightly, almost caught off guard by how less bold he seemed compared to earlier.
A bright smile appeared on his face, “Oh, really? Because I was just about to head over too,” he laughed, a sweet blush dusting his face.
“Awh, that’s neat.” Her response was less than what she wanted to say, but she wanted to keep it professional.
They both walked towards the exit of the arena together, silence shared between the both of them as they were greeted by the warm weather, unfamiliar for Vancouver.
The streets were busy as usual, the rush of traffic coming and going, but it didn’t bother her since she was walking, not driving. As much as she hated traffic, she couldn’t deny the fact that it looked mesmerizing from afar at night, the glow of the headlights mimicking the city.
When she arrived at the restaurant, it was jam packed with people, not surprising for the time of day, but it was something that she wasn’t expecting.
She felt an arm nudge her side, drawing her attention towards Nils.
“I’ll pay for our food, it’s on me,”
“You don’t have to—”
He shook his head in disagreement, motioning for her to get in the queue with him, to which she followed behind him as they waited in line.
Her eyes scanned the room nervously, hoping to not see her boss or any of her co-workers at the restaurant since she was out with Nils.
If she was caught, she could potentially lose her job, which meant everything to her, but more importantly, she would have to be away from those she grew closest to. Away from Vancouver, and away from Nils.
And as if on cue, he started speaking, only loud enough for the both of them to hear. “Management won’t fire us for having a friendly lunch together, we’re okay,”
She simply nodded in response, a tight-lipped smile that still had a hint of unease to it.
After they got their orders, they decided to go back into the arena to eat rather than at the restaurant, food in hand as they walked there. It was a quiet and peaceful walk, but the weather started to turn into a cloudy gray, rain threatening to fall.
Looking up at the sky, she could tell it was only going to get worse. “Weather doesn’t look too good,” she mumbled, hoping that her papers wouldn’t get ruined.
He hummed in response, also looking up at the sky. “We should hurry,”
“Oh, really?” Her tone was sarcastic as she laughed, which in turn caused him to laugh as well.
He had a mischievous look in his eyes, and she knew that he had something in mind. “I’ll race you to the lounge in the arena,”
Before she could speak, he was already sprinting in the direction of the arena, and she followed suit, wondering how she would even catch up.
While she was running after him, she saw Elias near the front, most likely waiting for his food to be delivered.
“Petey! I need you to do a quick favor for me please,” she blurted, slightly out of breath.
He looked at her in confusion, sliding his phone back into his pocket. “Yeah?”
“I need you to unlock the lounge door.”
Shrugging, he led the way to the elevator as they headed up to the floor that the lounge was on. He then unlocked the door, to which she thanked him plenty of times for as he walked back to get his own food.
Throwing herself onto one of the chairs that was in the lounge, she let out a sigh of relief, food still in the bag and unopened.
“How on earth did you get here before me—”
She turned her head to the door, seeing Nils there, panting, out of breath, hand holding onto the door frame. His hair was soaked, dripping onto his shirt, most likely from the rain that started to fall harder since she got inside.
“I went through the front entrance,” she said nonchalantly. “Why?”
A surprised look was scrawled on his face. “The front entrance wasn’t under construction?”
She shook her head to his question.
“Why did Petey tell me that it was?”
A laugh bubbled out from her throat, causing her to hunch over as he sat down across from her. “Petey—he—let me in and use the elevator and pass to get in the lounge with no hesitation,”
While she found the situation hilarious, he on the other hand, was embarrassed, face flushed red.
“You owe me lunch next, that was foul play.” He opened his bag and started eating his burrito bowl, sitting comfortably on the couch.
Her lunch was already in her hands, the warmth radiating from it nicely as she got cozy. “Nope.”
They both ate quietly in the lounge, the sound of the rain tapping on the windows gently as Vancouver became a grayish gloom, completely different from the warm, comforting glow of the lounge lights.
It felt eerily domestic, the quiet peace, the shared, comforting silence, too strange to even consider it something just in the workplace between Nils and her. It felt like something that she could get lost into so easily, something along the lines of a classic fairytale romance.
“What’cha staring at?”
His voice snapped her out of her thoughts, and a rose-tinted blush was dusted over her face as she averted her glance.
“Nothing, just lost in thought,” she shrugged, hoping to play it off.
Her food was nearly finished, only small bits and scraps left which she prodded with her fork as she was deciding on whether or not she should throw it away or take it home.
The phone in her pocket buzzed, causing her to get up and throw the food away before excusing herself, walking into the hall to pick up the call.
“Hello?”
The familiar voice of her friend could be heard through the phone. “Hey, where are you? I thought you would be in the office by now.”
“Oh, sorry. I got caught up with something. Do you need me there now?”
“More like caught up with someone,”
Even through the phone, she could tell that her friend was giving her a knowing look accompanied with a wink.
“But anyways, I don’t need you ASAP but just enjoy your lunch with that special someone. Get back to me when you can.”
She let out a sigh, having already been outside the lounge. “Will do, love you lots.”
Her friend reciprocated the departure as she hung up, sliding the phone back into her pocket as she made her way to her office.
Nils left the lounge shortly after she hung up the phone, but he heard the last part of her call, which set him on edge. He didn’t know much about her personal life, and he wasn’t even sure if he was overstepping some personal boundaries of hers.
As the days passed, tensions rose in the arena as the Canucks went against the Oilers. Everyone felt restless, unease, not being able to properly get comfortable. Even after each win, it still felt like it wasn’t enough.
She stared at her laptop screen, sifting through the goals scored and other notable statistics of each game, somehow searching for a way to win with full certainty. Her fingers tapped against the desk nervously, and it felt like every poster and memorabilia on the wall was a relic to pray to.
The sound of childish bickering could be heard outside of her office, and she leaned back to try and get a glance at who it was. “Come in? The door is open I think—”
Her door swung open, and there stood a flustered Nils and a giggly Quinn attempting to push him into the room, whispering some sort of encouragement.
“Is everything alright?” She turned her chair to face the door, slowly getting up.
His playoff beard was starting to grow more, giving him a more masculine look that made her slightly weak, but he still kept a soft gentleness that she always liked from him.
“If I score tonight, will you get dinner with me?” Nils’s voice was quiet and nervous, but Quinn still stood in the doorway, waiting for a response from her.
She gave him a smirk, and she felt a wave of boldness overcome her. “I know you’ll score anyways, but we have a deal,”
He smiled with a blush and waved her goodbye as he ushered Quinn and him out of her office.
Time didn’t seem to pass quick enough, and she found herself pacing back and forth from her office to the rink. She had already prepared her report, all the information and stats needed for the pre-game announcements.
Taking in a deep breath, she tried to remind herself that the game would go well, but the pre-game jitters still ran rampant inside of her.
At the end of the hall, she could see her friend waving her over, holding something in her hands. As she walked closer, she could see that it was two Canucks jerseys, unnumbered and unnamed.
“I didn’t know which one you’d want—well I did know, but I didn’t want any rumors to spread for professionalism’s sake—so I got you a jersey for the game tonight.” She smiled.
It made sense, but she didn’t know why she was allowed to wear a jersey tonight. “Management let you?” she said, confused.
“Yeah, odd, but I don’t mind it.” She placed the jersey in her hands, the athletic material brushing against her palms. “Hoping we snag a win tonight,”
She let out a sigh, anxious but hopeful. “Me too,”
A few minutes before puck drop, she stood near the glass beside the rink, the blue and green lights of the arena giving the place an eerie glow.
Her jersey was on, Canucks emblem proudly displayed on the front as she got ready to give the pre-game report.
“Welcome everyone to Rogers Arena where the Canucks are facing off tonight against the Edmonton Oilers, hoping to get a win in this series. Tonight, the focus and spotlight is shifted onto our players to watch, having performed greatly these past few games,”
The camera was then panned to the players practicing on the ice as she moved to the bench, standing behind the players beside the coaches and athletic crew.
And as the game started, the arena was tense. The sounds of the stick smacking on the ice could be heard, cheering, chanting, and puck calling all too familiar. The building was loud and the fans were riled up, hoping to not be let down.
Minutes passed by, and the puck was being moved up and down the ice, and just as it made it into the offensive zone for the Canucks, leading to a goal for Elias Petterson.
Fans cheered and shouted as the goal horn went off, banners flying and waving through the air as the players celebrated the first goal of the game.
She cheered from the bench as well, celebrating with her colleagues and friends, full of adrenaline and joy. Even though Nils hadn’t scored yet, she was still hopeful that he would, having seen a couple of close calls that bounced off of the post or barely stopped by the goalie.
As the first period came to an end, the players filed off into the locker room as the media crew and her gave a quick first intermission report.
She could feel her heart beating in her chest, the oh so familiar feeling of being high with the rush of energy, the way it felt so unreal despite experiencing it over and over again.
Before she knew it, the second period was starting, players in their position in the neutral zone waiting for the puck to hit the ice. Her eyes watched every player carefully, observing each number and and keeping note of who is where and when at every second.
When she saw Nils get onto the ice, time felt like it was solid as she held her breath.
He weaved through the other players, gaining possession of the puck before passing it back to Quinn.
As the goalie thought Quinn was going to shoot, he passed it back to Nils, who scored a wrist shot that went over the goalie and into the goal.
The horn went off as the fans started to cheer wildly, the players celebrating on the ice again with picturesque smiles and hugs while she was on the bench, face dusted with a blush as she tried her hardest to play it off as over-exerted cheering.
She could see the smirk on his face, knowing that the deal was already set, and she could also see how Quinn was pointing at Nils, most likely teasing him about the bet.
The game went on, slower than what she wanted, but by the end of it all, it was a two-nothing victory for the Canucks, leading to a happy team, and more specifically, a happy Nils. The locker room was amped, music blaring as she walked by, the sound of grown men trying their best to sing along, and a smile scrawled on her face.
She had already done the post-game report, albeit, a very rushed one with a flustered look on her face, but she tried her hardest to remain as professional as possible. Her bag was packed and all ready to head home, files and papers in folders, laptop in its case, and every muscle in her body felt ready to collapse.
The rain was rampant outside, splashing in puddles outside on the concrete, and she knew she had to either be quick, or deal with a soaked jersey, and the last option did not sound too pleasant.
Staring into the now empty parking lot, she allowed herself to take a few deep breaths in, feeling the cool air fill her lungs, and breathing out, with her muscles relaxing.
She could hear footsteps behind her, but like a second instinct, she knew exactly who it was.
“Nils,” she said quietly.
He paused before taking another step towards her, the air now seemingly filled with a static. “You’re going to catch a cold,”
“You as well.”
A small chuckle escaped his lips, followed by a sigh. “Let’s get to your car first, then we’ll talk,”
She led the way to her car, hair becoming more messy and soaked from the rain. When she looked back, she saw Nils following behind her, but he looked even more tempting with his unkempt hair.
Placing her bag in the car, she turned back to Nils, seeing him stand there waiting for her.
He looked at her, observing every detail of her with no shame. “That jersey looks beautiful on you, ya’know?”
“Oh, stop it, Nils,” she blushed. “When and where is the dinner I was promised?”
Pulling out his phone, he asked for her number, to which she gave him it. She had trust that he would actually follow through with his promise, and so she didn’t ask for him to check it again.
“I mean it, you look gorgeous and always have. Even right now.”
She looked up at him, admiring his features silently for a few while her fingers ghosted over the lapel of his suit.
“May I?” He asked, hand hovering over the small of her back.
As soon as she nodded, he pulled her into a tender kiss, lips pressed against hers. It felt like everything from the past few weeks all started to become worth it, the waiting, the stares and glances. All of it.
The rain continued to fall between them, cold against the warmth of their bodies, and she didn’t want to pull away any time soon.
Her eyes remained shut, but she knew he looked so handsome with his lips pressed to hers. His scruff was scratching against her face, but she knew that she wouldn’t ever mind it at all.
Butterflies were loose inside of her, fluttering wildly as if she waited for this moment for far too long.
His touch, his fingers against her chin was full of sparks, and his other hand on her back seemed to be the only thing grounding her to reality, reminding her that this moment was real, and forever in her memories.
When they both finally pulled away, breathing heavily, their lips were swollen and tender, smiles painted on their faces.
He had a sort of angelic glow to him, ethereally irresistible, and she pulled him in for a quick peck once more.
“Can’t get enough of me already?” He chuckled.
She shook her head as she opened her car door, sitting inside as she gave him a gentle smile. “Could never get enough of you.”
He took her hand in his palm, giving it a gentle kiss before he waved goodbye to her again. “Please, get home safe,”
“Will do, Nils. I’ll see you tomorrow,”
As she drove off with a dopey smile, she could still feel the warmth of him and each touch of his vividly, and she knew the glow of the lights in Vancouver would never be the same again.
#nhl#hockey#nhl hockey#nhl writing#nhl fic#hockey fic#hockey imagine#vancouver canucks fluff#vancouver canucks#nils hoglander fluff#nils hoglander#nils hoglander x reader#nils hoglander imagine#nils hoglander fic#nils höglander#nils höglander x reader
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#running face first straight into every single rejection sensitive wall atm and it's so frustrating#like. can we just not do this rn brain? I'm too tired to deal with this on top of everything else#all it does is make me alienate myself from people I care about and make me feel like shit afterwards#and it doesn't fix any of the underlying issues either. (like. I've been upset about ppl not doing what I do)#(as in read all of my fic like I try to read all my friends' fic usually. but like.. not everyone can and not everyone wants to)#(but it's one of those irrational things of 'if they cared about me wouldn't they also try' even tho that's not a fair ask)#(and like.. most people don't read random fic for fandoms they're not even in so this is entirely stupid to be upset about)#(but here we are anyway)#just.. me. raw to the very nerve and too tired to fix anything that might help alleviate it#I just want to feel normal again. and like I have control over my emotional state#but between 'dude fucked up bc of his borderline being triggered by grief and letting out all his frustrations on me for weeks'#and 'other dude grieving but not processing and not even taking a break to figure out where he's at emotionally..#..therefore dropping all of his unprocessed baggage and his part of the group work right on top of me' I'm just having a heck of a month#and idk. it would have been nice to talk to sb about my fic even if it's older now and not the best perhaps#(doesn't help when everybody you know writes really great fic and you're just outside the door scribbling some ideas into the sand)#idk. usually I do better in disconnecting self-worth and accomplishments and stop myself before the comparisons with others start#but rn it's all too much and I'm drained and exhausted and nothing feels good or helps much at all.#anyway.#it is what is I guess. and what it is is fucked and I doubt it's gonna change anytime soon.#that's not me being unrealistic or depression talking. it's based on how things have progressed thus far#there's another year and a half of this kind of stress which will likely get worse when our group grows from 18 to 31 in October#and then I'd have to start working proper again which I haven't in over two years bc of all the rehabilitation I've been going through#and it's terrifying and I'm already exhausted and worn down and worn out and I just don't know how normal is ever gonna be my life again
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fuck dude i have got to find a job where i can be self-employed and creative. i cannot be in fucking retail hell anymore
#she bork#tbd#like now i don't deal w customers which is cool but now that i work at like a big retail store and not a little mall outlet the pressure is#insane. and i have bosses who never say good job or thank you and who have set me up to fail by throwing a department on me that i was not#hired to run or trained for and frankly don't have time to run properly either. so every week just starts w me in our weekly meeting being a#fucking piñata like 'why didn't you get this done 🤨 you need to manage your time better 🤨 you're losing sales 🤨' and i'm like i'm trying!!!!#what more can i do!!!!!! and then the side of it i actually kind of enjoy (which is what i was originally hired to do) is very very hard on#my body bc it's a very physical job (i run the team that unloads the trucks every day and like i'm usually helping unload bc i'm not just#gonna stand there and watch while my team busts their asses lol) and now i'm finding out that it's actually not normal to wake up every day#w your joints screaming and stiff and that i might have a chronic condition (doctor is thinking some sort of chronic inflammatory arthritis#but i won't know if my imaging and blood tests showed anything until like mid-june) and i'm like. so even the part of my job that i don't#mind as much is not good bc it's like actively destroying my body. okay sick 🤠 and i don't wanna quit bc i've only been there for like#eight months and this job would be really valuable on a resume but i don't want it to look like i'm a job hopper or like i'm fickle or#unreliable. so i'm stuck here for a while i think. but the pressure is destroying me mentally and i know i need to find a position somewhere#else that is 1. not fucking goddamn retail bc retail will always be hell and 2. not management bc i don't see myself ever really getting#into upper management but lower/middle management gets shit on the most so if i go somewhere else and end up in middle management i'll be#right back to wanting to kill myself in a matter of months. basically i'm tired of expectations and pressure and stress and i'm tired of#waking up at fucking 2:30 every morning just to go in and get shit on and destroy my body all over something that in the end i do not fuckin#care about. i need to make art and be held accountable by only myself. idk i've been toying w the idea of learning how to tattoo and trying#to start establishing some artistic skill so maybe eventually i can do that? not now bc the economy sucks and that's scary lol and anyway i#have to give myself some time to actually learn the skill and perfect a style. but it makes decent money (at least before the expense of#supplies and taxes) and allows you to travel and still work and also it would be fun. and i could tattoo myself so it would cut some#expenses for me since i cannot stay away from the damn needle. idk lol i need to save some money before i buy a tattoo gun or anything but#i'm considering it bc i am going fucking crazy rn and ik this feeling will leave me eventually but i also know it will come back bc it#always does. and i'm tired of just surviving and just making it through every day and every week like i want to be happy and this is just#not doing it for me anymore#ugh fuck why couldn't i have been born w a brain that likes numbers and code and technology. i love being an artist but it makes finding a#sustainable career really difficult bc i feel so restless and miserable when i'm stuck in a passionless job but my passions are not#particularly profitable. hate it here why wasn't i born a capybara no job no responsibility just squint and squeak and sun
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#also; I don't say it cause I don't want to be rude or be shitting on anyone's religion; but if you're praying for me... don't#If I'm more candid than I usually am; I don't like it; I don't believe; I don't want it; and it makes me uncomfortable#I let people cause it helps them and they want to; but it sure as fuck doesn't help me and I don't like it#I don't come out and say it this bluntly cause I don't want to be an asshole; but that's the honest truth#it ends up (in this specific case; with me; not talking about praying in general) being a hell of a lot more about you than about me#and I don't normally care about that; but like if you're trying to help then I feel like maybe that's a bit backwards#know I'd think it was backwards if something I was doing was more to help me feel better than the person I wanted to help#like I'm not gonna get mad; it's your business; but I don't like it#and I've tried to gently tell people I don't like it; do it diplomatically as possible; cause I know people get weird about praying#get nasty frankly; like there's no denying people get mean about people praying#(though I gotta be honest; I do kinda get it; you might not get how it is with people always being so damn pushy about it)#but I try not to be the person getting nasty about it... but I don't like it#and not to shit on that anon; but you come to me and you tell me to go get help but that you'll pray#didn't ask for your prayers and this is honestly the exact reason I don't like people praying for me#either actually offer me a hand in some way or leave me to deal with it myself#I don't believe in your god; any one's god really; question of what happens after death doesn't interest me#all I know is there's a lot of work to be done in there here and now and whatever answer there is after... doesn't change it#I could die and be told I was sinful for trying to help the wrong people or something... so damn me; I don't recant and I don't repent#so I don't really care about your god or what they think of me; they can like me if they want and they can hate me if they want#I don't need you interceding on my behalf; sometimes things go good for me and sometimes they go shit#if the good things were because someone prayed then that's mighty nice and all; but if that's what it takes I'd rather learn to stand#like; playing those publisher clearing house sweepstakes; I'm obviously hoping for luck; but I'm not gonna fucking pray for that#plus for me personally; prayer always feels real damn selfish so much of the time; don't ask for anything for me#I'm not even fully against it; once or twice I've prayed for someone cause it's what they wanted... doubt it helped#but I'll do what I'm asked when I can muster it and respect their beliefs#so now; and hopefully without being too mean about it; I'm asking you to respect mine#stop praying for me#lend me an actual hand; or since you probably can't do that (know I can't many of the places I'd like to)#feel free to offer a kind word instead and I'll say think you kindly#but you're not a brother keeper; I'm not your responsibility; let me fester and die; or thrive with my bitter soul; or whatever will come
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[Touchy feely] [tf141 headcanons]
(Romantic impied Task force 141 boys x gender neutral!reader headcanons :))
Summary: Being the sweetheart of the task force means the boys are not shy about the fact that they're all simps and always want some sort of contact with you at all times.
Consists of romantic/suggestive headcanons for each of the guys and little things they do with you <3
Words: about 1.5k (this was supposed to be short, whoops)
Warnings/Info: Can be read separately but it is intended that they all harbor feelings for you at the same time, possibly out of character for everyone, some swearing, the guys manhandle you, as always, let me know if I miss something!
Thinking about how each of the boys is so touchy with you, it doesn't matter where you are or who you're with, they're shameless.
Other units and teams who will sometimes share the base with 141 know better than to ask questions or directly say anything to one of the guys or you for that matter. Not that they could anyway, seeing as you always have at least one of them attached to your hip.
Price:
Anyone who walks into Price's office late at night to turn something in is used to seeing you next to the Captain on the little dingy loveseat he has in there.
John is usually smoking a cigar, taking care to not blow smoke your way while your head is resting on his shoulder. Your eyes closed as you hum at his words. It's terribly domestic for a military base.
John likes to gently play with your hair while he speaks about missions he's been on, always somehow trying to braid despite not knowing how to for jack shit, whether it because it's you or just the mindless motion, he's not willing to say.
John will usually walk you back to your room after dinner or time in his office unless he's swamped with work.
A small hand on the small of your back while he leads you. It's always a respectable touch, though he tucks you into his side, nodding at everyone you may pass.
If you're comfortable with it, he likes to press a kiss to your head, smiling that goofy ass smile, and tells you to get a good night's rest.
He lets you help him trim up his beard, he won't let you do all of it but he likes the closeness of it, him sitting down while you gently shape it up, tilting his head up and he tries his best to not stare directly at your chest.
The fact that he's letting you this close to his neck with a razor is a sign of trust, maybe small for others but for a man that doesn't drop his guard and doesn't truly trust others, it speaks volumes.
The first time he let you, you were barely putting any pressure and he grabbed your hand in his and showed you. "You're not gonna hurt me, put more force into it, yeah?"
Don't get me started on going out on walks in London with Price, he wraps you up in his beanie and some big leather jacket he has that dwarves you, helping you move through crowds by once again holding the small of your back, or taking your smaller hand in his. (He doesn't correct anyone if they mistake you as married)
He likes to kiss the back of your hand and laughs when it makes you blush and sputter out that his beard is scratchy.
Ghost:
Ghost is a subtle one, he won't actively reach for you or your hand but he does have some part of him against you most times.
Whether it be his leg, arm, or thigh, anything works. A normal place yall will be seen together is in the dining hall, you've both learned to ignore the stares from everyone else.
Simon never eats there, just sits with you until you're finished and then you both move on to either his quarters or somewhere else so he can peel his mask up to eat a bit.
However, while you're eating and telling him about anything under the sun, he'll lean over and wipe some crumbs off of your mouth with his thumb softly, which again, you're used to so okay whatever but Recruits always are taken aback in their seats.
Ghost's reflexes kick into overdrive with you. His hand going to cover a corner of a table 9/10 times before you completely wreck your shit, but when he does miss (sometimes on purpose).
He'll bring a hand up to rub at your head for you, chuckling under his breath before cooing down at you "That hurt pretty? Sure look like it did."
Whenever you two specifically are paired onto a mission, doesn't matter if any of the guys complain, he will share a cot/tent with you. He claims he runs the hottest (he doesn't, it's Johnny but he will not lose on this) and can keep your body the warmest.
He pretty much lugs you on top of him and wraps his arms around your waist, he'll press a hand against your head if you keep fidgeting, rasping at you to go to sleep. He takes great pride in the fact that you're usually out like a light very shortly.
I've said it once and I'll say it again, Ghost likes to hook a finger into your body straps and pull it really hard and let it smack you to get your attention if you're not actively paying attention to him, he'll soothe the area but he's smirking behind that fucking mask.
On that note, he definitely does the "You got something right here." And points at your chest and immediately pull up to flick your nose hard as fuck, he KNOWS his own strength but sometimes your eyes water and he immediately feels bad.
Ghost rests his head on your chest a lot, he finds your heartbeat to be soothing and reassuring, also grunts if you don't wrap your arms around him in return, bro literally shoves his head into you and groans
This is a grown man but it's cute so you let it slide bc he'll never ask for it outright, he just assumes you'll cradle his head.
Soap:
Johnny is the most shameless motherfucker here, I'm talking about draping himself over you, grabbing at your cheeks, ruffling your hair, kissing you dangerously close to your lips (it drives the others mad), he's the most unapologetic about it and will gloat to the others.
Manhandler #1, isn't above grabbing you by your hips and picking you up to move you somewhere, he's literally gone and grabbed you from some rookies side to come stand next to him with a smile and you're just so used to it that you just shrug and go along with it. (He gets slightly jealous, why would you stand next to some random ass dude and not him??)
Throws you over his shoulder, or likes you to cling to his front or his back and just carries you, he says it's a comfortable weight. If you ever dare say you're too heavy, he's gonna go to the gym and work out even more to PROVE to you that he simply doesn't care, he will carry you.
Extremely bad habit of sneaking into your room to fall asleep with you, Price has come into your room many times to see Soap sprawled on top of you, he's drooling and snoring and you're knocked the fuck out (he's like a glorified weighted blanket).
I've touched on this before but he only wants you to cut his hair for him, yeah he can go to the barber on base but he much prefers you and loves it when you scratch at his scalp. He also likes to just have his head in between your thighs but that's something else for another time-
Soap specifically slings you over his shoulder a lot, especially off base where he truly doesn't have any fucks to give.
You're not going to bed because you have other work?? Too bad, shoulder time you go. You're not willing to get up and make yourself food? Good thing he's here, either pick what you want from the kitchen or throw some clothes on bc he IS dragging you out of the house.
Johnny likes to draw on you a lot, it ranges from scribbles, to sometimes his name if he's feeling cheeky (he's drawn it on your thigh before and you didn't notice until Gaz shot you a look), to intricate drawings of whatever he can think whether it be a landscape or an animal.
He always holds you steady and it isn't uncommon for your limbs to fall asleep but it's worth it, if only to see him smile.
Gaz:
Gaz is probably the most secretly clingy person out of the four, he CAN function without your touch but does he PREFER to? No.
His first instinct in any situation is to grab you and shield you, he's the fastest of the four so his body moves without thinking and it's saved you more times than any of you would like to count.
The one mission where you both fell out of a moving truck, he tucked your body into his despite it costing him his shoulder popping out of the socket, you couldn't help but freak out while Ghost moved to pop it back into place.
"Why the fuck would you do that? Look at your arm!" "It's nothing." "Garrick what the fuck-"
When you're out anywhere off base, he's holding your hand, good luck trying to pull away bc he is not letting go. Too bad so sad, resign to your fate.
I think Gaz is definitely good at dancing, at least with you and when the right music is on, you cannot tell me this man wouldn't twirl you around and shit-fight me on it. He'll even lift you off your feet, laughing when you scramble to grab at his shoulders.
He goes stark still if you rest your head on his shoulder, not because he's nervous but because he's worried about waking you up when he knows you deserve a rest.
He'll usually wrap his arm around your shoulder to hold you in place so the heli ride doesn't jostle you so much, gentleness rubbing his knuckles along your arm to soothe you.
Gaz is the one who holds you when you have nightmares, on rare occasions when Soap isn't in your room and you just need to be held with no talking, you always without thinking find yourself in Kyle's room, his arms wrapped around your waist as he tucks your head under his chin, no questions asked.
He'll maybe hum a tune to help you relax but other than that, he lets you lead the way.
#im so tired oh my god#i hope yall enjoy kissing yall on the forehead#ghost <3#soap <3#price <3#gaz <3#kayla writes <3#call of duty#call of duty x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost x reader#john soap mactavish x reader#soap x reader#john price x reader#john mactavish x reader#kyle gaz garrick x reader#gaz x reader#kyle gaz garrick#john price#gender neutral reader#john soap mactavish#john mactavish#call of duty headcanons
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I love a good florist Steve, but what I love even more is a good but naturally bitchy florist Steve.
He'd have his own flower shop and years of dating experience behind his belt. He is not just a good boyfriend, he is THE good boyfriend. Going to his shop isn't just to buy a bouquet of flowers, oh no. It's a whole relationship coaching thing, he teaches husbands to do better, gives courage to teenagers asking their crushes out, gives advice regarding flower language to elderly ladies who just want to be slightly passive-aggressive...you know, the normal thing.
He has a catalogue with flower pictures to help people who have no idea what the flowers are called, they just know they were orange and didn't easily wilt.
He shows a local teenager the cheaper but still fancy options and throws in a bunch of free flowers that aren't really up to his standards. "Okay, you say she likes pink flowers. Does she like things to be a bit more decorated or does she prefer simplicity? You don't know? Okay, can you describe what she normally wears? No, I'm not being creepy, but you can sometimes tell the person's preferences from their clothes. Now answer or leave dateless."
He chats with the elderly ladies of Hawkins when they ask for a flower to gift to their fellow church ladies when they host their meetings. He cackles when he hears some of their orders. "Oh wow, Ethel, a yellow hyacinth? Would you like a gift card with that, something like sorry you're such a jealous hag? No? Of course I know the meaning, it's my job."
"Are you expeting her to say yes to the date with that atrocity on your face? Yes, I know it's a moustache. But it's also an atrocity. Shave it and thank me later. Now, would you like a ribbon for that bouquet?"
And most of all, he grills the unlucky conservative men in Hawkins who come to him for flowers for their wives without any idea what they like. "I see, so you want something pretty. What does your wife like? Flowers? Well, that's not specific. What kind of dresses does she wear? Expensive? Can you tell me anything about your wife's personality? ...nagging. No, I can't just mix something together, unlike you, I take pride in gift giving. Okay. I don't think this is a shop for you. Yes, that's what I'm saying, I won't play a part in your wife's disappointment. Oh sure, go take your money elsewhere, but I can give you this advice for free - you married a unique human being, so treat her like one. And if you really want a happy marriage - maybe come back when you learn something about her as a person. No need for that language, have a good day, sir."
For those that are more receptive, he goes through their partners' personalities and hobbies, suggesting date options and absolutely roasting the bad ones. "A football match. When your girlfriend hates sports. I don't care if it's your boys playing, you can try telling her that this is important to you and you'll take her out another time, but if you try to pass this as a date, you'll be single before you say "sorry". A date is for you as a pair, not for you only."
But the best thing his shop brings him is Eddie Munson, who sneaks in, absolutely ready to be roasted, and asks for a bouquet of bright colorful flowers for his best friend Chrissy. "She just got divorced from her asshole husband and I want to show her that she can have nice things. Platonically. But she deserves so much more. Uh...she really loves warm colors, so maybe yellows and oranges? What are they called...gerberas! She likes gerberas! And she likes things to be a bit messy and imperfect, so maybe some leaves there as well? A green ribbon would be nice."
And Steve just beams at him as he gets to work and says "Oh wow. Whoever your partner is, they are so lucky if you remember all of these things even for your friends. Makes a guy jealous."
Eddie just wiggles his eyebrows at Steve and mutters, "that position's sadly open. Has been for a while. Interested?" and he almost faints against the counter when Steve turns around.
Eddie is ready to run.
But Steve just fluffs his hair, reapplies his lipgloss and asks: "Where do I apply?"
#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things#steddie#steddie drabble#steddie au#florist steve harrington
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[bernie sanders voice] i am once again.. thinking about coparenting megumi with boyfriend!satoru.
"so you're both megumi's..."
"guardians," you smile politely, praying stupid shit doesn't leave the mouth of the boy next to you. it's wishful thinking.
"yes," he beams so tenderly that you resist the urge to scrunch your nose in disgust. he takes your clammy hand lightly in his and turns back to megumi's teacher. "we had him young." a soft ow comes from under satoru's breath as you kick him under the table, forcing an expression of normalcy onto your face.
you hated parent-teacher conferences because it reminded you just how abnormal megumi and tsumiki's situation was. they had no parents, nor did they have any close relatives that cared for them the way a family should. that left you and the white-haired idiot in the tiny seat next to you to fill in that duty, and between missions and training students, you weren't around as often as you wanted to be.
"i...see," the teacher says hesitantly, eyeing your boyfriend with obvious unease. after a moment, she regains her composure and refocuses on you completely. "is there anything you wish to discuss before we begin?"
"not for me, no."
"when can we get him bumped up a grade? or have him skip one altogether?" every single word that comes from satoru's mouth is a joke but it still has your face burning with embarrassment that you were associated with him. "you know, i skipped a few grades when i was young."
"i can tell," you whisper and he pinches the flesh of your thigh between two fingers in defiance.
"i believe that skipping grades would be unwise at this time, as we haven't done any testing yet-"
"he was kidding, i swear," you say apologetically and, thankfully, the teacher continues as if on a script.
"i see. well, megumi is progressing wonderfully in the class. he's very adept at reading and writing, but he does struggle with math sometimes. it's nothing to be worried about; many children struggle with math at his age." you nod in understanding but grimace inwardly. megs always wanted you to help him with math homework since satoru became frustrated with the problems faster than the actual 2nd grader.
"for being the strongest, he's not that smart," megumi stated bluntly one night while you helped him on a coffee table in the teacher's lounge. you'd sent satoru on a walk around campus after his distress was clearly bothering megumi, who ended up suffering more from satoru's "help" than benefiting. "you're not around that much anymore to help me so i don't know what to do." his tiny eyebrows furrow and you reach out to run your fingers through his spiky black hair.
"i'm really sorry i'm not around as much anymore. do you want me to ask nanami? he handles math all the time."
"i think that'd be worse than satoru."
"you can't get much worse than satoru, buddy," you concede and his mouth turns up a little bit. nothing like a little insulting his mentor to get the boy's mood improved. still, his frown returns like it's his default expression.
"what if i can't do it? what if i'm not like everyone else?" it made your chest ache in a different way when megumi or his sister said something like that, like they were well aware that they weren't normal children. your heart panged for them and mourned their loss of a "normal" childhood just because they were born into a big three clan. it wasn't fair and it was something you lamented to satoru almost every week. you couldn't tell the boy any of that, though, no matter how much you wanted to explain why he wasn't like the rest of the kids in his class.
"just try your best, okay? sometimes, that's all we can do. you're already doing great by asking for help. it's not your fault if someone doesn't know how to help you, so just keep trying." he nodded determinedly; after another hour past dinnertime, you finally finished walking him through the rest of the problems while satoru draped his lanky body over the couch behind you, watching defeatedly over your shoulder.
"is there anything we can do to help him with math?" you ask, unconsciously weaving your fingers with satoru's and giving it a light squeeze. he squeezes back three times. i-love-you.
"he just needs a little reassurance that he's on the right track sometimes."
"mmm, don't we all," you murmur and you don't expect the teacher to laugh softly under her breath, muttering her agreement. before you know it, you've organized megumi's papers into his folder and picked him up from the playground outside his classroom, taking his hand as you walk back to the car.
"your teacher says you're doing well in class."
"really?"
"mhmm, though i didn't need her to tell me that since i already know." you shoot him a small smile, leaning into satoru's body as his arm wraps around your torso. "you, however, need to learn some manners," you lightheartedly tease, knocking your elbow against his abs. "you were not helping in there, you menace."
"it was boring, what do you want me to do?" his tone is so carefree, so comfortingly satoru it made your heart melt.
"it's a parent-teacher conference, not parents. you could have waited outside if you were so bored. went to play on the playground or something." his head dips close to your ear and you feel some strands of his hair brush against your skin.
"but then i don't get to watch you be all mature and put-together."
"trying to follow my example?"
"trying to break your composure," he corrects with a sly grin. "i'm the fun one, after all."
"that's one way to put it," megumi deadpans without hesitation and you stifle a snort.
"i'm one of a kind!"
"you're out of your mind, is what you are." before he can protest, you press a kiss to his cheek and he turns a slightly opaquer shade of pink. "but i wouldn't have you any other way."
#gojo x you#gojo x reader#gojo x y/n#satoru gojo x reader#satoru gojo x you#satoru gojo x y/n#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#jjk fluff#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#satoru gojo#jujutsu kaisen
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— ❈ YOU'RE SO PRETTY, BABY.
▸ prompt ; companions and their responses to being called pretty boy / pretty girl.
▸ a/n ; bit of a generic post im sorry forreal. while i was originally just going to write this for astarion i had ideas for. all the other companions.
most of the characters have a reader w a specific class or background, all varied! also spoilers for gale, shadowheart, karlach, and lae'zel.
reader / tav is always gender neutral!
▸ wc ; about 4.5k, about 700+ words per companion.
ft. astarion, wyll, gale, shadowheart, karlach, lae'zel
no minthara or halsin bc i could not bring myself to write it. but maybe later if enough people ask lol.
❈ ASTARION ;
Astarion tries his very best to find your affection for him trite, even when he knows it doesn't feel that way. It's an instinct for him, one you'll simply have to make peace with you if you're really planning on tailing him to the end of the world.
Truth be told though, he likes your generally affectionate nature. He hasn't reached a point he can admit this so openly, but the comfortable and easy way you reach for him is nice. He likes how your hands seem to stretch for him, the way you cling to his spine when you sleep in his tent and the likes.
And while he is not stranger to hypocrisy, he thinks it'd be amiss to try and bar you from calling him any pet names when he calls you so many. He's got quite a few handy. Darling is a favorite, followed by dear, and sometimes my love when he can muster up the courage to mean it instead of saying it like he's trying to perform.
You like to call Astarion by his name though, most often. He isn't exactly sure why you're so fond of it, and truthfully he's done little to consider his own name. You say it wonderfully though, tasteful and loving and soft.
Sometimes you gasp it in offense or horror or shock, other times in pleasure. Sometimes you whimper it in your sleep, groping around until your hands fist in the material of his shirt and you drag him back to you.
In any case, he's used to hearing his name. So hearing you utter the words pretty boy to him, he can't help but be a little shocked.
You're a little tipsy. A hard, arduous journey of fighting githyanki soldiers has taken a terrible toll on your normal inhibitions. You're quite flushed while you're drunk, and all the same sitting in his lap like you've not a care in the world.
Astarion doesn't mind holding you. In fact, he's thinking of all the terribly teasing things he can say to you come morning. So far, you've done nothing but mumble. It's a sudden movement, your hands clasped around his face.
"Feeling forward are we darling?" He says, like second nature. It's so reactionary it's banal, though he does have some enthusiasm since the flirtation is directed at you. Instead of your usual giggling, you stare at him with your lips parted.
"I suppose I am pretty boy," You reply, a completely foreign confidence in your voice that stops him dead in his tracks. Underneath the thick layer of flirtation is sincerity so unmistakable it almost proves to be too much "Could I ask you to keep me company?"
Astarion is, eternally grateful about the fact you don't get much more than that out of you. He spends the entire night thinking about it. You're certainly not the first to call him pretty, and that particular phrasing has been thrown to him more than once.
Yet it rings a little differently. The way you said it so tenderly, your hands stroking the nape of his neck and cupping his face. Well, it's not nothing. He can't decide if he hates it or not until the next morning comes.
Your eyes flutter open as light pours through the open part of his tent. You reach over to him with a deep sigh, engaging in some quiet morning affection when you repeat yesterdays sentiment.
"Good morning, my very pretty boy," You say - and this time Astarion is sure whatever he is feeling he has not ever felt previously "Sorry for the antics last night."
"So your memory hasn't failed you. Good to know." Astarion says back. You laugh lightly. "Your charming little pet name worried me quite a bit."
"Nothing to worry about my love." You say, warm and nuzzling into his neck likely to cool yourself from over-heating "I really do find you very pretty."
He can't help the feeling that floods his sense. He likes it even though he feels a little clingy, but perhaps there's no need to admit that.
"Oh, really, darling? How sweet you are. Tell me again, then. Just for kicks this time."
❈ WYLL ;
it's a matter of getting used to it for Wyll.
For the first month of your adventuring together, pretty boy, had been a somewhat condescending substitute for his name. Among other ones, like daddy's boy and prince. None of the pet names held any real affection.
You liked getting under his skin, after all.
You didn't get on at first, not for a long while. You're a rogue, a ratty street urchin turned mercenary who'd spent your youth climbing through the soil and mud of the Lower City's underbelly. Your words verbatim, not his. At first, your resentment for him caught him off guard, especially because Wyll prefers to keep the peace and get along with everyone. But, he had a difficult time understanding you, even with his people skills
Eventually it clicked that your resentment was less towards him, and more towards what he represents. You're a Baldurian, but one abandoned by the city and it's people. What else could the Ravengards represent if not the future you never had a chance to look towards.
It was easier after that. And Wyll had promised to himself to observe you closer. In that, he found to like you a great deal.
He's fond of pet names in general, but more fond of you lately. At the beginning of your adventure, it was a little difficult to get accustomed to your... roughness. You lack delicacy, but you're not exactly silver tongued.
Yet, you're not as cruel as you make yourself out to be. Contrarily, while you've traveled together, Wyll bore witness to only gentleness. Nothing more. The words you spoke about only doing things for coin had been clearly disproved by your countless acts of charity. Especially gentle and kind to children, and especially unforgiving to the rich and unhelpful.
Once he got used to it, there was something kind of...sweet about it. To see you say one thing and do another had it's own novelty that Wyll grew fond of you.
It was the night of tiefling party that roused his feelings. That night, he'd watched you play with the tiefling children all night, teaching them tricks of the trade.
And you'd started falling for him, too, judging by the way your usual snark was nowhere to be found.
Especially vivid is the change in your tone when you call him the same way you did before.
"We'll take a short rest for you, pretty boy." Your voice murmurs, looking carefully over his wounds while place down your own weapons "Get your spells back. Organize our things in the mean time."
He gives you look, examining your own worry before his smile stretches into one of fondness. It doesn't bother him at all, not anymore. No, lately - it sounds rather fond, and each time Wyll hears it, it does something for ego.
"No need for the concern, though I am appreciative," He says, not bothering to mask the smug quality in his voice at your change. He delights in it a little, admittedly . "I'll be alright soon enough."
You don't seem to notice, too busy wiping your blade of fresh blood, metal shiny as moonlight. "And there's no need for your heroism, Blade of Frontiers. Have some discernment about time and place."
You look up at him with your brows furrowed, and Wyll can barely help himself. "Are you worried I'll lose what's left in my appearances? I'm just telling you there's no need to trouble yourself over it."
It takes you a while to register to his words, but when it finally does - your eyes blow wide. The look of embarrassment on your face is well worth it.
"I thought you hated when I called you that." You say coolly.
"It's not so bad," He says back tenderly, staring at you "At least not anymore."
You pout a little. Wyll fights some unspoken urge to kiss you. A little longer.
"I prefer when you're acting oblivious,"
"Sorry to disappoint."
He lets his head lay on the wall behind him - reaching a hand for yours instead, trying to rest up as promised. He sees you smiling from the corner of his eye and affirms it to himself. You squeeze, soft, but otherwise say nothing about it.
Yes, lately, nothing you say could get under his skin. Even when you so obviously try.
❈ GALE ;
Gale is always the poet, never the muse.
He thought highly of his relationship with Mystra, and in many ways still does. He loved her. This much is true. He can't say for any certainty if she had loved him just as much, or at all. He wasn't the first mortal, and would hardly be the last.
But he loved her, enough to write about her and wax poetic about all that he'd lost.
When Gale examines any of his past relationship, he realizes this is some kind of pattern. Gale is good at being loving, but he does not know for certain if any of them loved him back. Or if he was loved in the way he loves - if it was anything near close. Gale had thought, at one point, it was just matter of destiny. Gale is after all, a man who bleeds with all he has.
He can't blame anyone for loving him less than when he is categorically too much. He thought that way for a long time, destined himself to never find love again or beg for Mystra's forgiveness for some new found purpose.
When you came into his life, he hadn't been sure what would come of your relationship. Certainly a brain parasite would make camp a difficult place for romance, but the two of you managed against all odds. Among all the things that Gale finds astonishing about your relationship - it's your affection for him that catches him the most off-guard.
It's a little sad, he can admit. But it's true. When you speak to Gale, your voice is always soft. It's never demanding. Before, always, there had been some kind of expectation. Gale had to be a certain way, to pour himself into someone else for the sake of it being returned.He loved. Surely he loved.
But now, lately, you love him back. Overwhelmingly. The easiness of your love makes him feel a little... spoiled. Which is embarrassing, at the stage of life he's in. He finds the whole thing tips him over the edge. The heat creeping up his neck every time he remembers. Your hand brushing against the back of his neck, cupping his face so gently.
Gale, perhaps unsurprisingly, is fond of your various pet names. All of them sound good. Make him feel important and desired. You like to call him a bookworm, sometimes you call him baby (which he really likes much more than he is ever willing to admit), and other times you settle on saying my love.
Pretty boy is new. Pretty boy is different, and makes heat crawl up the back of Gale's neck like a smitten school boy.
It has a special effect on Gale.
In between classes, spoken with your hands cupping his face as he leans on his desk. The sunlight is pouring through the large paneled windows, casting a warmth on your expression. Gale is sat on his desk, making you eye-level.
"I'm glad you've come to see me," Gale says to you first, breaking a period of comfortable silence. You're a busy person, given all the heroics. Gale finds it troublesome, despite the fact you've moved with him to Waterdeep. Your reputation precedes you "It's been ages,"
"Of course I'd come to see you, pretty boy," You hum, thumb brushing under his cheek - carefully drawing a line "You're very healing to look at."
The effect is rather immediate. As soon as the words leave your lips, spoken to him so lovingly - he unlocks a part of himself he always seems to forget about. Forgets himself in a fundamental way, the flurry of heat and euphoric sensation of adoration washing over him like water.
He gives you a look, and you laugh - pressing your thumb to his lower lip as you lean in for a kiss. "Stop pouting, will you?"
"I'm doing nothing of the sort," He insists, kissing you despite him. You laugh into, warm and bubbly. For a minute, he remembers all he might've lost had he done what Mystra told him.
He's glad he's alive. To feel you.
"You very much are," You reply back, once you've managed to pull away from each other "Don't be so surprised. You've always been very pretty to me."
He blushes again, deeper, and closes his eyes.
❈ SHADOWHEART ;
You don't often communicate your feelings to Shadowheart through words.
You're something of a stoic. Of the few people in Shadowheart's past who remain by her side, many of them communicate about how surprised they are about your partnership. Shadowheart is known to be a little snarky, witty. She used to be very prickly, at the start of your adventure together - so everyone questions how you were able to win her heart.
Truthfully, Shadowheart didn't know what to make of your personality at first. There's a silence to you. Maybe she should expect this of paladin so loyal. A Paladin of Torm, the unswerving enemy of injustice and corruption. You've always been a devout person, putting action and justice over everything. She hated it at first, a natural response for a Sharran, she figures.
Once she'd left it all behind, she could no longer use it as an excuse.
Truth be told, Shadowheart had always liked that aspect of you. Your devotion spoke to something greater than your oath or even your god. You had simply believed in the world, and inadvertently in her. You saved her from herself, her parents from her fate, and then some.
Your devotion to her as a lover isn't something so different. She often thinks you would swear yourself to her if you could. For Shadowheart, your affection is akin to worship. Every morning, the animals are tended and the flower bed is damp. You wake her mother up without a start, remind her of where she is without making her feel ashamed. You're good to her father, talk to him of worldly politics at the dinner table.
She has no complaints to make about you. Your love for her is tangible, something she can reach out and touch with her fingers.
She's unused to hearing your affections, though. Unused to hearing the words.
You lay together in the darkness. You're alone tonight, the entire cabin empty. Her mother and father have gone together on an outing together, after you accompanied them into the city. You've finally returned, put the horses up in the stable, and have to come to her side.
Shadowheart likes to lay in your arms. She lets herself curl into your weight, inhales the scent of your skin - earthy and rich as you let your arm fold around her waist. She lays ontop of you today, her whole body on yours like a blanket.
She looks up at you, her her tied loosely. She can practically feel how glowy her own expression is as she examines you - sees her reflection in your irises.
You let your hand lay over her back, reaching up underneath her nightwear to lay touch her skin. She gives you a look - her smile small, sincere. Your own expression is tired from travel, but fond. You insisted on taking her parents instead of letting them go alone.
She loves you more than she cares to admit.
"You're staring." She comments blithely "See something you like?"
Normally you'd flush a little at this, silent as you kiss her forehead or cheek. This time though, you use your fingers to brush the stray hairs from her face and nod.
"Yes, pretty girl," You hum, nonchalantly. Sagely. "I really do,"
She's so caught off guard, she can't help but gape. She lifts herself slightly to stare at you in shock.
"I've never heard you talk like that. Not once while we've been together. I mean.. you've called me beautiful but," Shadowheart stumbles, a fluttery feeling in her stomach she'd rather ignore "But it's never like that,"
"I think it more often that I say it,"
"And you always think to call me that?"
"Like I said, often," You look over he carefully, before your lips pull into an easy smile "You're pretty to the point I want to tell you all the time,"
Shadowheart is scarcely embarrassed by anything. She's a practiced woman at this point in her life. It's almost juvenile the way the words effect her. It's you saying it that makes all the difference. The way you've said it that makes her squirm. She lets out a little puff of air, silent as you laugh.
"Pretty girl," You repeat, warm and gentle and laced with exhaustion "You're the most beautiful girl I've ever met."
Shadowheart tucks her face into your neck, voice as soft a murmur as the sound of her own heart rings in her ears.
"Don't make a habit of talking like that," She huffs "I already know, but I suppose it doesn't hurt to hear."
You smile brightly. "I'm glad,"
❈ KARLACH ;
Karlach adores you, utterly and completely.
She's a little caught off-guard by it. Just when she'd convinced herself she couldn't love you more, you surprise her all over again. She'd probably harbored some sort of affection for you from the start of your adventure together, when you'd gone to bat for her and make sure Wyll didn't take her head as a trophy.
Since then, though - on your journey together, she'd taken careful notice of you. And gods, she likes you. You're very different she must admit. Where Karlach is strong and fiery, you're cool and calculated. She figured that's just what magic users are like, but Gale is pretty keen on correcting this assumption. You're a sorcerer, specifically, means the whole magic thing is in your composition and not your study.
Which explained why your head isn't the books like their local wizard. She does find you to be rather charming. You're good at talking your way in and out of almost everything, and you can outwit even the cleverest people on camp. You'd think it'd make you... annoying. Or cruel. And sure, you're a little calculating - but mostly, you're sweet.
Karlach's really never met anyone like you before. Her companionship is a little limited because before the Blood Wars, she was a rag-tag kid in the street of the city. But you grew up in a noble house, learned to charm and finesse your way through everything. You know how to read situations before they've even happened.
And you always explain them to her afterwards.
You make Karlach nervous, strangely. Which is wild! When it comes to socializing, she can get along with almost anyone. You though, you always see right through her. You know when she's using her own personality as a shield, and you always know just when to intervene. Or when to say nothing, and just let her sit with you.
The day she blew up at you, after defeating Gortash - you'd handled it better than she could've hoped. You were comforting, and kind, and let her feel it out without making her feel bad. With you, she felt hopeful despite knowing that the end was probably going to come for her eventually.
With you, she thinks she could endure even the end of the world.
You're in the city now, no longer sleeping in the woods. When everyone else has gone to bed, Karlach finds you in the study, a room attached to the main living quarters.
She knocks before entering. Your voice is soft as you tell her to come in. Dressed in your comfy night clothes, your hair damp from washing up. You're bent over the desk with a furrow in your brow that Karlach finds sweet.
"Hey, baby," She asks, her heart thumping soft "Hope I'm not disturbin' your research."
"Of course not," You reply back, encouraging her towards you "I'm actually due a break."
Wordlessly, you sit up from your chair, pointing for Karlach to sit. She follows through, a little confused as to what you're doing before you plop yourself back into her lap. She throws her head back in laughter.
"Don't know what I was expecting there," She giggles, arm curling around your waist "All cozy?"
"Mm," You melt yourself into her embrace, turning to look at her. Your eyes are soft, free hand cupping her face "I'm cozy. What's keeping you up, pretty girl?"
The words catch her off guard completely, her engine flaring from the heat.
"Shit, what's with that?" She glances down at you, smiling like the cheeky fucker you are "I can't get any redder, you know? It's making my engine burn."
"You like it, no?" Your voice is smooth, smug in a way that gets her hot "My pretty girl,"
Karlach stares at you as you say it. Traces the curve of your lips, the slight arch of your brow. Asses the weight and warmth of you as you lay your legs over her lap and feels her body start to react. She didn't think it was possible to feel so complete by someone, even among the impending doom at the end of the world.
With you it fades away to nothing. Permission to want freely, she had no idea she had wanted that so bad. She had no idea she could want more when you'd already given her so much.
It's nice to be greedy. A little greed is fine, after everything.
"If you keep talking to me like that, we're going to do a lot more than just sitting, you know?" She tells you seriously.
You smile and laugh but don't deny her "Only if you say please,"
❈ LAE'ZEL ;
The Githyanki do not fall in love.
It's a fact of the culture, a mark of their honor. Love is for the soft, tender fleshed species of the material planes. It does not suit warriors, not the ruthless githyanki who spend their entire lives training the sword and learning magic. Love had always been a flimsy concept to Lae'zel. To the point she'd never thought about it or cared too. For the gith, there is only pleasure and carnal desire. The foolishness of longing can only be harbored in the lesser existence of the outer-world. The world outside of her creche.
For a long time, this was true for Lae'zel. She had never intended her time in the material plane to weaken her in the ways in which it did. Or that the experience of a ghaik parasite trapped behind her eyes would will her into cooperation with lesser beings. In many ways egregious, unfathomable. In trying to rid herself of one parasite, she'd found herself another one - more intolerable and more consuming than the first.
You. What a foreign and remarkable bond. From the beginning she had told you the truth, that the gith do not love and she would not be able to love you. Though she could admit passion, admit admiration for your courage, admit possession - she could not admit love. She knew nothing of it.
Over the course of your journey, you'd managed to prove her wrong. Slowly stripped bare of the identity she'd made her life around, you stripped Lae'zel down to her soul. Her most honored solider, and most formidable ally. When the time came, you'd told her to do what she must, to liberate her people. That you'd be there when she returned.
That you'd wait for her.
Months apart with few visits in between meant that each time Lae'zel sees you must make every minute count. Enjoying your body and indulging in carnal pleasures is only so much of that. What Lae'zel looks forward too most, she must admit, is the gentleness of your touch whenever she comes back to Fae'run.
Soft warm whispers among the indulgent plush of bed sheets and candles. A room that smells like lavender and oak, prayer books and scripture littered on the desk. A cleric of Bahamut, and a soul strong as steel.
But this, her head resting in your lap as you stroke her hair so carefully, is what she's missed most of all. No doubt she's going soft.
"Chk. You are smitten by the text in front of you as if you have forgotten of my return,"
You look down at Lae-zel with a laugh, carefully placing said book down on the bedside table. The voice you speak with her is different from her own. Tender fleshed even in your speech, you let her curl herself into you.
A vulnerable position, open to whatever may come.
"I'm sorry, pretty girl," You hum. The words practically startle her "I don't mean to neglect you. It was an interesting passage."
"Pretty...It is true among the githyanki, I am among the finest of their ranks," She replies, turning herself towards you - getting comfortable "Yet still, something stirs."
"Are you embarrassed?" You reply, delighted as her frown deepens. Before she has a chance to argue with you, you lean down to press your lips against hers briefly "How sweet of you."
"I do not get embarrassed," She insists, scowling as you begin to giggle at her "It was merely unexpected."
"You're beautiful to me, Lae'zel." You hum, stroking her cheek gently as she continues to lay herself across. Your eyes are tender and lidded. That look of obsession she recalled from the months prior returned in full, and no longer hidden. Unlike your other mortal companions, or the pale elf - there is nothing hidden in your words. No agenda "More beautiful than anyone else. At least to me. Getting to look at you so closely is a gift."
She softens, her hand gripping yours resting on her chest
"When it is over," She says seriously, a solemness to her voice "I will return to you. This I swear. Without you, the liberation of my people would be no less then a dream,"
You return her smile in kind.
"My pretty, wonderful girl," You hum. She loves you. She thinks she understands it now "I know you'll return to me, nailo. You always keep your promises."
"Yes," She says, an unfamiliar emotion overwhelming her "I will not forsake all we have promised."
The affection in your voice shakes Lae'zel to her core. Initial abrasion fades only into warmth. It's not so bad to hear, even if it is tender fleshed.
▸ a/n ; the word reader uses for lae'zel is elvish for swift winds!! reader is meant to be sort of a book worm so you do not need to picture them as a elf and more of a linguist.
this is the most substantial thing i've written in the last few weeks so commentary is very appreciated. i'd be willing to do a minthara and halsin addition to this eventually if anyone is interested!!
anyways, baldurs gate companions i love u. reblogs so appreciated !
#bg3 x reader#baldurs gate 3 x reader#astarion x reader#wyll x reader#gale x reader#shadowheart x reader#karlach x reader#lae'zel x reader#writing tag#waah. i love them all
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jealousy
gojo satoru x fem!reader
summary: satoru doesn't like the way the barista is looking at you
a/n: figured i'd give you all a little fluff (save me from this void)
last part | next part
*
year five.
“megumi, go get your mom.”
satoru and megumi are sitting in a crowded cafe, saving your spot, waiting for you to come back.
while the sun coming in through the window satoru is sitting across from is partially blinding him, he can still see you.
you, trying to order, being ogled by the barista who's been granted the pleasure of speaking to you. your smile is normal--to satoru's obvious disdain--and you don't even seem to mind the man's obvious flirting.
(not that it really means much. when satoru leans in like that, you just push him away. when he swoons at the way you've done your hair on any specific day, you just roll your eyes.
so maybe you're not the best judge of flirting. or attraction. or how to reject a tiny schoolboy, like the one you're talking to.)
satoru's only been watching this interaction for thirty seconds, but he's had enough.
“why?” megumi turns, looking back at you. “she’s getting us hot chocolate.”
satoru sighs, no care in the world. can't the kid ever listen to him? “go hold her hand then.”
“why?”
“because.”
“but why?”
satoru gives megumi a (pathetic) glare. “listen to me, young man," he tries to say it like you would--if megumi ever denied any of your requests--but it doesn't work. satoru has to try not to laugh directly after the words are out of his mouth.
so what if he doesn't want you talking to that kid? he's just looking out for you.
megumi's brows raise. he looks... almost amused. “what’s wrong with you? you go hold her hand.”
satoru hangs his head. you told him to sit here and keep the table for all of you, told him to watch megumi and not do anything stupid--which, to be fair, is difficult for him. so he can't go get you (save you).
and plus, he doesn't want you to know that he cares. if you like that kid--with his stupid dark hair and eyes and soft smile and obvious heart eyes--then he doesn't want to know.
and if he goes up to you, he'll know.
“i can’t," he tells megumi, instead of saying any of that. the boy would just cackle in his face.
“are you scared?” megumi asks, very seriously, as if satoru is afraid of anything.
(besides you falling for someone else, of course. but that doesn't count).
he looks over to the kid again, who you're chatting idly with as you search through your purse. he wonders if you're telling the barista that you spend every night in his bed, making out with him until your lips are puffy.
if he keeps smiling at you like that satoru is going to get up and tell him himself.
satoru scoffs, looking away finally, back to megumi who looks thoroughly entertained by his father's pain. he crosses his arms. “no.”
megumi shrugs, looking back again. seriously, satoru should've kicked him out when he had the chance. he probably would've been fine with the zenin clan. probably.
“well, i’m not doing it," the boy says, with obvious satisfaction.
if only tsumiki was here. satoru never should've let megumi ditch school, or let him come with you both to get coffee. tsumiki would help him. she probably would've asked you to get yakitori instead and satoru could listen to you try to make small talk with a waitress instead of that guy.
“megumi fushiguro,” satoru begins, voice rough. “do you want your mother to live in a rat-infested apartment with a random, cesspit man, and several tiny babies running around all of the time? tiny wimpy babies? normal, human babies. you’ll have to stay over there and share a bed with multiple infants who will spit up on you.”
megumi blinks. “what are you even talking about?”
“go stand next to her," satoru hisses, because he swears he can hear your laugh from across the cafe, and honestly he's never wanted to destroy an establishment more.
and that's saying something.
at least the man would be without a job and satoru would never have to see him push his hair back and tilt his head at you again.
megumi looks back again like it's going to explain anything satoru does, and he smirks. “that guy doesn’t look too bad.”
satoru's jaw clenches. “i will mismatch all of your socks.”
megumi scowls at him. "all of my socks are the same, after last time."
satoru huffs and leans back against his chair, pouting. "what did i do to deserve this?"
“do you think mom likes him?” megumi asks, voice so innocent it makes satoru want to shave his hair off.
“go.”
megumi blinks at him, tilting his head. yeah, he's really putting on an act now. “but she said to wait here," he reminds satoru like it matters.
“tell her you missed her, or something," satoru goes to wave a hand, but his hand only clenches when he physically sees you laugh at the man. you're not even ordering now, you're just standing there (waiting for their drinks) talking to the guy.
“you tell her you missed her," megumi retorts, enjoying satoru's one and only weakness.
"no."
"she's laughing," megumi points out, resting his chin on a hand. "and it's rude to interrupt grown-ups when they talk."
“megumi,” satoru begs, hating the weird, annoying feeling in his chest. he wants to dig his own heart out and yell at it. “please.”
megumi is basically smirking at him now, waiting for a beat longer for satoru to really break--and seriously kill every person within a ten-mile radius--but eventually, right before it happens, the boy sighs. his eyes are evil, evil things.
"fine," he tells satoru, rolling his eyes. he stands up from his hair and pats satoru on the shoulder like it will make up for anything. the boy has the worst smile satoru's ever seen in his life.
and then he makes his way through the line of people--seriously, this guy is a terrible barista--and taps you on your waist, going to stand right up against the counter. megumi says something to you--you will all of your charm, and your irresistible smiles--and you hold a hand out to him, which he grabs immediately.
your smile, satoru notices with immense relief, shifts on instinct. it goes from something formal and polite to something genuine. you look down at your son and the barista you've been talking to for the last minute is completely irrelevant.
and satoru takes great satisfaction in the way the kid's eyes widen, and the instinctual step back he takes--like he knows that satoru is going to hurt him if he continues to lean over the counter towards you.
satoru relaxes, watching you ask megumi something, but only slightly.
and after a second you turn your head, raising a brow at him.
the little brat.
satoru just smiles--offering you more than some shotty barista ever could--and leans back in his chair.
*
“why are you being so weird today?”
satoru’s chin is on your head, and even though you can’t see his smile, it falters, just a little bit. "don't know what you're talking about."
"you're sticky."
"i just showered."
"okay," you say, turning and rolling your eyes at satoru's pout. instantly his hands go to your waist, keeping you right there with him. "first of all, no you didn't. and i didn't mean literally. you're... clingy. more clingy than usual."
"i can't want to be around you?"
you give him a blank stare. "not when you're being weird about it."
"how am i being weird?"
"how aren't you?"
satoru grins, leaning his head down to push his nose into your cheek. you smell like something sweet--something he'd devour in an instant--but he's not sure what. he doesn't even care. he doesn't answer that question, only hums into your skin.
"see what i mean?"
"it's not my fault that you're comfy."
"oh, im so sorry," you say, fake pity in your voice. "let me just turn myself into stone real quick."
satoru rolls his eyes, pulling back just so he can see the amused look on your face--yeah, he knows that you don't actually care. but the more he hangs onto you, the more affection he shows, the warier you get.
and that's perfectly fine with him, actually. as long as you don't push him away.
"please do," he says, so genuinely. "it would make this a lot easier."
"make what a lot easier?" you ask, voice a bit softer. maybe it's because he's looking at you now, actually looking.
and satoru knows, really knows, that there's not a single other person in the world who you look at like this. there's not another man that you'd let sniff you, no other man that would dare to irritate you the way that he loves to.
satoru's worked several years to get you to be this comfortable, this easy around him. and even if there was someone else--he wouldn't give you up without a fight.
you're his in a way that transcends labels or reality.
still, he doesn't answer that question (because you already know). he only smiles a bit more, leans in, and basks in the way your lips mold to his immediately.
*
next part | series masterlist
#gojo satoru#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x reader#jjk gojo#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru x y/n#satoru gojo x reader#satoru gojo x you#satoru gojo x y/n#satoru x reader#satoru x you#satoru x y/n#gojo x you#gojo x y/n#satoru gojo#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#jujutsu kaisen x reader#a typical family
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I know you already did the 141 boys when their wife gives birth (which was fantastic btw) but maybe if they missed the birth because of a mission or whatever else your brilliant mind can think of!
Don't give me compliments because then I'll follow you home like a cat and you'll never get rid of me 😖
Price
(This goes for all the men, really) but he's absolutely gutted to not be with you as you're giving birth
Honestly, if he had the choice, he would've rather lobbed off his own arm than miss such a momentous occasion in both your lives
It’s nothing less than the literal fate of the world that's keeping him from you, and he makes sure to reiterate that over and over again
The only thing that gives Price a bit of peace of mind when leaving you at a time like this is knowing you have a strong support system to help you through it
And boy oh boy does he put those friends and family members to use by having them constantly text him with every update imaginable
What time your water breaks, how far apart your contractions are, how much you've dilated, so on and so on. He wants to know it all
While he has to remain focused during the bulk of the mission, when he's able to, he's whipping out his phone to scroll through the literal hundreds of messages that await him
The updates are so plentiful and detailed that if he tries hard enough, he can almost pretend like he was right there beside you all along
And once he gets to the pictures of you holding your little one for the first time, well… he's not afraid to admit that he sheds a manly tear or two at the sight
Soap
He kicked up quite the storm at work when he realized he was going to be missing the birth of his child
He did everything in his power to try to get out of the mission – to try to get back to you – but, ultimately, he had no other choice than to go
But he's not just going to go gently into the night. No, he has a few tricks up his sleeve to make it as if he's still there with you in some capacity
Like Price, Soap takes comfort in leaving you with a huge support system to help while he's away
And also similarly, he's recruiting your loved ones (more so their phones) into letting him video chat with you whenever he gets the opportunity
(Does that mean he snuck his unauthorized smartphone into the middle of a battlefield? …. Yes. Yes, he did. .……....… Don't tell Price)
You'll be in the midst of a call with him and a bullet will fly right by his head and embed itself in the wall behind him
Of course, this has you incredibly concerned, worrying over how you're distracting him when he should be focused on his mission
But he assures you there's no need to fret, dear. He's perfectly safe and everything’s completely fine
(Oh, and just disregard that sound in the background, hun. No, it wasn't a bomb. Heavens, no! It was a… a… piano falling out a window)
Gaz
Even when he's away on mission during normal circumstances, he's calling home all the time to check in with you
But given your current state, now he's checking in twice as much as he usually does
Expect a minimum of three calls a day just to ensure things are still all hunky dory on your end
It's during one of these calls that your water breaks, and as you fly into a state of panic, forgetting everything you're supposed to do, Gaz has to calmly walk you through the steps of what you'd planned
He's able to talk you down and make sure you get yourself to the hospital in one piece, but then after that call, weirdly, you don't hear from him again
It's not until several hours later when you've already delivered your child that you're awoken by the feeling of someone beside your bed
You look to see who it is and it's none other than Gaz himself – still dressed in his full gear, covered in all sorts of dirt and grime, a hushed apology pouring from his mouth
He's so sorry he couldn't get there quick enough, beautiful. He left as soon as he could once he'd pulled a few strings with Price
But you don't even care about the excuse because you're quickly enveloping him in a hug. With tears in your eyes, you assure him it's alright. He's here now, and that's all that matters to you
Ghost
When he was informed he was being shipped off to a remote location less than a month before your due date, he was livid
No phone, no radio, no communication of any kind with the outside world and he was supposed to be okay with that? He very much wasn't
The higher-ups had to really hammer home the whole “safety of the world” thing to convince Ghost to go, and even when he did, he did so grudgingly
He finds that as he sits in this shoddy shack halfway across the planet from you, all he can do is keep a mental tally of everything he’s missing
Going with you to your final check ups, helping you pack your hospital bag, holding your hand as you begin to push, etc. etc. etc.
But what about things he might not know about? What if something's gone wrong while he's been away?
He can't let himself think on it too much because he'll end up putting his fist through the drywall, and he needs at least one good hand to hold his child with when he meets them for the first time
Seven weeks, four days, and nine hours after he shipped out, Ghost is on a plane back home
He doesn't stop to talk to anyone when he touches down at base (not even to report to his superiors). He just gets into his car and books it, not letting off the gas until he's parked outside your home again
And when he finally reaches the front door, an unexpected tremor passing through him as he grabs for the handle, he closes his eyes, takes in a deep breath, and walks inside, beginning the next chapter of his life
#wiw asks#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost x reader#john price x reader#captain john price x reader#captain price x reader#john mactavish x reader#john soap mactavish x reader#soap x reader#kyle garrick x reader#kyle gaz garrick x reader#gaz x reader#female reader#simon riley#john price#john mactavish#kyle garrick#tf 141 x reader#task force 141 x reader#cod x reader#cod mw2#call of duty#modern warfare 2
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Jay feels it's time to give you and your boyfriend, Riki, the talk.. with the (not so helpful) help of his other fellow hyungs
suggestive, crack, some swearing ♡ wc: 822 · requested
You and Riki exchange confused looks, he's trying to communicate with you through his eyebrows but you sit there shrugging at him in reply.. You're both just as clueless as one another.
"What's going on..?" You finally decide to speak up cautiously, "Did something happen?"
Jay and Heeseung glance at one another, crickets.
Jake's gaze is set on the ceiling and Sunghoon's next to him, looking over at Jay on the other end.
The four boys are sat lined up on a bunk bed opposite to the one you and Riki are currently sat on.
Jay had pulled you and your boyfriend into one of the dorm rooms without warning, privately, although you were sat there wondering what was private about having Heeseung, Jake and Sunghoon there too.
"Nothing bad," Jay finally speaks, "I- We just needed to talk to you about something,"
Riki sighs, "Then talk..?"
It's now Heeseung's turn to speak up, "Last night we heard some.."
He gulps obnoxiously loudly,
"..Some noises, coming from your room and we just wanted to make sure the two of you are being safe,"
You can't help but try to stiffle a chuckle, knowing exactly what they were reffering to. You look over at your boyfriend, he's hiding his face behind his hands.
"I told you to turn the volume down," Riki groans, he's irritated and embarrassed. You can't help but to continue chuckling away.
"She was showing me stupid tiktoks,"
Jake laughs at the situation, knowing he was the one who originally sent you those tiktoks. He apologises swiftly when Jay gives him a look.
"Ok, well- still, you're at that age now where we should talk ab-" Jay tries to continue but is cut off by a distressed Riki,
"Why are they here," He motions towards a smiling Jake and a dead silent Sunghoon, "You may as well have invited the other two since you summoned a council meeting to talk about my sex life,"
You almost snort.
"Babe, this isn't funny,"
"Their intentions are good.." Your voice trails off quietly,
"Why are we here?" Jake suddenly pipes up, his question being mainly directed towards Sunghoon,
"I don't know," The boy next to him shrugs, "I just wanted to listen in,"
"Can we please focus for a second," Jay's borderline irritated voice is heard, "So as I was saying-"
"Wait but Riki told me they already had sex..?"
Your eyes widen at Jake's comment, Sunghoon gasps quietly. You feel your cheeks starting to warm. Riki's gaze is now set on you, he's wondering if you're going to get upset at him for sharing everything with Jake. You didn't care.
Jay's eyes close with a sigh, "Can you two get out,"
"But I didn't say anything," Sunghoon's tone is defensive, yet it only takes one look from Jay for the two boys to quickly hurry out of the dorm room.
"Is it true..? Look, we just want to help," Heeseung speaks softly, you wonder if your cheeks look as bright red as they currently feel.
"It's normal to want to explore at your age," Jay adds, the boy beside him nods in agreement.
You play with your fingers that lay in your lap, Riki coughs beside you. He's running his hands through his hair, the poor boy does not want to be there right now. What seemed like a funny situation a few moments ago has turned into somewhat of a bit more serious conversation now.
"You can always come to us with questions, you know that, right?"
"Thank you, hyung, but are we done here..?" Riki groans,
After a few more minutes of Jay and Heeseung explaining the importance of using protection, Riki successfully manages to push the older boys through the door and out of the dorm room, leaving you a giggling mess on the bed.
"Thank fuck that's over," Your boyfriend sighs as he closes the door, leaning against it when it shuts.
His eyes settle back on you, you motion for him to join you back on the bed. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth as the tall boy follows your order, you're still smiling.
"You know, Jay had a good point. It's normal for us to want to explore..."
"Mhm," Riki tackles you softly backwards onto the mattress, "What are you implying?"
Your fingers run through the soft strands of his hair as he attacks your neck with soft bites, and kisses. You can't help but giggle at the tickling sensation.
"Hmh.. Should we continue exploring?" Your voice is barely above a whisper. Riki's hand finds its way under your shirt, smoothing the warm skin above your hips.
"Ni-kiiiiiiiii, are you still in there!?" Jake's excited voice is heard before he leaves a series of loud knocks on the wooden door, "Unlock the door~"
You errupt into quiet laughter as Riki's head falls into the crook of your neck with a muttered 'what the fuck...'
...
Copyright © 2024 riki-dazed. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED | Do NOT edit, copy, translate or repost any of my work without permission.
#enhypen hard thoughts#riki smut#enhypen imagines#enhypen smut#enha x reader#niki smut#niki imagines#enhypen hard hours#enha#riki-dazed#enhypen crack#enhypen fluff
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The Gang React to You Breaking Your Ankle
Lucifer
"This was bound to happen sooner or later."
I mean, really, with all the stunts you play with his brothers and that sorcerer, it's more surprising that you didn't break anything before now. Thank goodness your room is on the ground floor. Now, here is a schedule of where you need to be and when, along with the brother who is your designated companion at all times to ensure you don't get stuck somewhere or fall over and break something else. This is a rotating position so stop fighting all of you!
Mammon
"Holy shit, humans break easy, huh?"
Assuming for the moment that Mammon didn't accidentally get your ankle broken by pulling some stupid stunt for Devilgram clout and involving you in it, he'll be extra careful with you for a little bit. People keep jostling you in the hall! Don't they realize you're basically made of glass and paper?! He'll clear the halls for you to hobble by with your crutches. Yep, you're earning all sorts of new friends.
Leviathan
"E-sports are the best activity when you're injured."
What a convenient excuse to drag you to his room more often than usual for anime marathons and all-night gaming sessions. Like Mammon, he's a little uneasy about this revelation about just how delicate you are, but nobody gets injured playing video games. He's basically protecting you from your next inevitable accident.
Satan
"Stop trying to do so much on your own."
Satan acts extremely annoyed when he sees you trying to hop somewhere without your crutches or lifting anything more than fifteen pounds unaided. Of course, he's just worried about you and expressing that in the most practical way he can. He repeatedly reminds you of advice on improving your recovery rate he found in medical books and the blogs of reputable physical therapists (he always checks into their credentials).
Asmodeus
"Poor thing! Let me spoil you!"
And that's basically what he does, whenever he gets the opportunity. This is a great excuse to get some much needed R&R, in his opinion, so the two of you will be visiting spas and getting massages and you aren't walking anywhere anymore, he is one of the Rulers of the Underworld and you are going to be carried on a litter, so help him Gardonus.
Beelzebub
"You need to eat well to get your strength back."
Prepare yourself for Beel's version of "eating well". You only had three eggs for breakfast? You'll never heal at that rate. Have another six and some bacon. Here's a protein shake. It's designed for demons so it's probably a little grittier than the soft stuff from the human world but it's exactly what you need. No, he doesn't have any science to back this up. Yes, he expects you to clean your plate.
Belphegor
"Of course you got hurt, running around all the time. You should just relax with me."
Little did you know this was all part of Belphegor's master plan...
What a perfect opportunity to spend every second of the day with you. Now that you're forced to sit around and avoid being too active, he has you right where he wants you (specifically, under the blankets with him while he sleeps). He'll remind you at every opportunity that you normally run yourself ragged, and you've earned some time to laze around. And now that you're injured, you have the perfect excuse!
Diavolo
"Your poor human bones... My home is always open to you if you need somewhere more convenient to stay. Please take care of yourself, in the meantime."
Rest assured, he will provide you with all transportation necessary to and from RAD. Or perhaps you would like to try remote classes? Leviathan finds them productive! And if you need anything, please let him know. He'll be in touch about five times a day just to make sure you remember that.
Barbatos
"I am only a phone call away should you require my assistance."
And he will be on call at all hours of the day and night, just in case. You'll be treated like royalty when you visit the castle too, of course. (Even more like royalty than usual, that is.)
Solomon
"Oh, that? Here."
He just magics your ankle better. There, there, little apprentice. He's surprised you didn't do that yourself.
Simeon
"What are you carrying? I'll take it for you. No, I insist!"
Simeon will be a perfect gentleman, helping you up and down stairs and carrying your books and shopping for you. He's very concerned about you somehow re-injuring yourself, and even when you're alright to walk without crutches anymore, he still *really wishes* you'd use them for an extra week or two, just to be on the safe side.
Luke
"You did what to your ankle?! Ankles can do that?!
Congratulations, you've introduced Luke to the concept of broken bones, and he will find the human skeleton creepy and gross for the rest of his life.
--------
@thefandomthings I know this isn't exactly what your ask was, but it's similar, so I hope you like this!
#this was in my drafts for weeks#time to do another gang reacts post#obey me#obey me ensemble#obey me headcanons#obey me lucifer#obey me x reader#obey me mammon#obey me leviathan#obey me satan#obey me asmo#obey me beel#obey me belphegor#obey me belphie#obey me diavolo#obey me solomon#obey me simeon#obey me barbatos#obey me luke#dthc#hcs#text post#lucifer#mammon#belphie#levi#satan#asmo#beel#the gang react
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