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doobea · 4 months

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

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

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

MILESTONE EVENT || MILESTONE MASTERLIST

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

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

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

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

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

Ouch… but he’s not wrong about that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Huh?”

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

Satoru swallows. “U-Unpaid…?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Huh?”

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

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

“Tired yet, Gojo?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Carry me?”

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

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

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

“Wouldn’t count on that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Gojo,” you say, almost hesitantly.

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

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

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

“Mhm, getting there, Gojo.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You treating me like an errand boy?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ooh, where to?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Satoru’s not really sure.

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

Of course. It’s absolutely not funny anymore.

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

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

It might not be such a bad idea.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What? I haven’t given you—”

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

“You called me!”

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

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

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

“But my shift doesn’t start till—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Might’ve?”

“Okay, definitely said something classist.”

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

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

“Maybe not a date—”

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

“You never called me dumb, though?”

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

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

“Gonna totally invite you to the wedding.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Choso?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You finally want to talk about it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Satoru offers a small smile. “Unpaid?”

“Will you say no if it is?”

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

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

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

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akakay31 · 2 months

Text

So much for Legends Celebi or B3W3, lmao.

But for real, before anyone starts theorizing about ultimate weapons or ancient wars in Pokémon Legends ZA, there are a few important things to consider first:

1. The game will be set entirely in Lumiose City.

A bit disappointing, though Lumiose is already a big place, and it’ll only be bigger now that it’s the central focus. A smaller scope will also probably mean a higher-quality product in the end, too. Though it does makes me wonder how catching wild Pokémon will work within an urban city. Maybe the game will be more battle-focused, as opposed to the catching-focused Legends Arceus.

2. The game will (almost certainly) not be about the events of 3,000 years ago.

If it wasn’t already obvious by the limited setting, Legends ZA will most likely have little to do with the events of the ancient war and ultimate weapon. If it’s anything like Legends Arceus, Legends ZA will instead be set in a period based on the latter half of the 19th century, soon after the invention of Poké Balls. Anything set before this period would predate the invention of Poké Balls, and thus have to have drastic changes to its gameplay, which is something I just don’t see happening.

And we know that Legends Arceus is set during the mid-to-late 1800s because of the events it is based on, i.e. the Japanese annexation of Hokkaido in 1869, as well as the subsequent colonization efforts.

Similarly, we can guess that Legends ZA will be set during this same period because of the event it is seemingly based on, Georges-Eugène Haussmann’s renovation of Paris from 1850 to 1870.

For those unaware, Haussmann’s renovation was an urban renewal project, commissioned by Emperor Napoleon III, that included the demolition of old medieval neighborhoods, the annexation of surrounding suburbs, the construction of new sewers, etc. The renovation was extremely unpopular, what with the whole bulldozing thousands of houses and replacing them with standardized streets and buildings thing, resulting in Haussmann’s dismissal in 1870. However, work on his plans continued until 1927, and ultimately are what made Paris what it is today.

While Legends ZA likely won’t go too far into the nitty-gritty of the real-world events, knowing what the game will be drawing from is essential for any speculation on what we can expect to see.

In fact, using this same method, we can probably even guess what future Legends games will be like by looking for historical events during the mid-to-late 1800s period. Take Unova, for example, which could…

Oh.

Oh no.

#honestly this could all be just blatantly wrong #but it was still worth it for the setup #pokemon #pokemon legends #pokemon legends za #pokemon legends z-a #pokemon legends zygarde #pokemon legends arceus #game freak #nintendo #theory

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pucksandpower · 8 months

Note

I have an idea for the Grid Kiiiiiids. They all try to start teaching their sister to drive a kart 🥹 up to you how old she is when they start lol but you know Max and Charles especially want that girl in a kart ASAP

Grid Kids: Little Racer

Sebastian Vettel x wife!Reader x platonic!drivers

Summary: the grid kids can’t wait to take their sister karting

Series Masterlist

Lando looks particularly proud as he rubs his hands together. “Alright, we got the best present for her. Trust us, she’s going to love it!”

George nods enthusiastically, “It’s honestly the best thing ever. A bit of an investment for her future, you know?”

Max, trying to hide a grin, chips in, “And it’ll give her a head start in racing.”

You raise an eyebrow suspiciously, “What did you boys do?”

Charles can barely contain his excitement. “Just open the garage and see!”

You slowly make your way to the garage with growing trepidation, the grid kids practically bouncing on their feet behind you. When you open the door, there, in all its glory, sits a shiny new kart, complete with racing stripes and a custom-made helmet with your daughter’s initials.

Your jaw drops. “She’s one! She can barely even walk! What is she going to do with a kart?”

Lance, looking a little defensive, offers up ideas, “Well, she can ... sit in it? Look cute? Take photos for Instagram?”

George chimes in, “It’s never too early to get them started, right? I mean, she’s got the genes for it.”

“Think of it as a ... decorative statement piece for now? Then, in a few years, she can actually use it,” Mick suggests.

You can’t help but chuckle at their over-the-top enthusiasm. “You guys ... she’ll probably be more interested in the cardboard box it came in than the actual kart itself right now.”

Lando pouts, “Well, when you put it like that ...”

You laugh, “Thank you. It’s a very thoughtful gift. But we’re going to have to save it for when she’s a bit older.”

Max smirks, “By a bit older, you mean like five, right?”

You shake your head, exasperated by your impressively stubborn sons but always grateful for how much they love their sister. “We’ll see.”

***

Four years later, the sound of shattering glass pierces the quiet night. In an instant, you’re on your feet, grabbing a baseball bat from the corner of your room. Sebastian, equally alarmed, snatches up a table lamp from his nightstand, wielding it like some sort of medieval weapon.

As you both stealthily approach the main room, you hear muffled whispers.

“Why did you have to step on the vase, Max!” George hisses.

“It was dark! And Lando pushed me,” Max retorts defensively.

Lando protests, “Did not!”

You round the corner, brandishing your bat and glaring at the intruders. “What are you doing in here?”

The grid kids freeze like deer caught in headlights, Lando holding a giant Happy 5th Birthday balloon, Charles cradling a shiny new helmet, and Mick holding a small cake with five candles.

Max tries to salvage the situation with a sheepish grin, “Well, you did say she could start karting when she turned five. We just wanted to be the first to take her.”

Lance points to the clock on the wall that now reads 12:03 AM, “Technically, she’s five now.”

You sigh, lowering your bat, a smile slowly forming. “You guys are ridiculous.”

Sebastian chuckles as he puts the lamp down, “At least wait till morning. And next time, maybe use the door? You all have keys for a reason.”

Charles grins brightly, “Where’s the fun in that?”

Lando glances at the broken vase and nudges a shard of ceramic with his toe. “Sorry about that. We’ll get you a new one.”

You shake your head with a laugh. “Just ... go home. We’ll see you at a more reasonable hour.”

Mick winks with a cheeky smile, “How about 7 AM? Sounds reasonable to me.”

You groan, ushering them out. “Go, before I change my mind about the karting!”

As the door closes behind them, you and Sebastian share a laugh. The grid kids never fail to bring some chaos into your lives.

***

The morning sun is just starting to peek through the curtains when you hear the soft hum of engines outside your window. Rubbing your eyes, you sit up and glance at the clock. 6:57 AM. “Seriously?” You mutter under your breath.

The doorbell rings and the soft hum now sounds suspiciously like the familiar excited murmurs of multiple voices.

You throw on a robe and head downstairs, opening the door to find the grid kids, all in their race suits, clustered on your front porch. Behind them, a trailer holds the tiny kart, polished to a shine and adorned with a large bow.

Max declares, “Told you we’d be back!”

Charles holds out a tray of coffee, “We brought reinforcements.”

George steps forward, a picnic basket in hand. “And breakfast! We figured that after all the excitement, you might be hungry.”

Lando bounces like a hyperactive puppy. “So, is she ready? We’ve got the whole day planned out!”

Sebastian, now also at the door in his pajamas, chuckles, “Let the poor girl wake up first.”

Mick is holding a small helmet and gloves. “We’ve got everything she needs.”

“We even have a little race suit for her.” Lance shows off the preschooler-sized suit, complete with the German flag and her name. “We got it customized and everything!”

You can’t help but join in on their enthusiasm. “Alright, alright. Just give us a minute to get her up and ready.”

The grid kids cheer, high-fiving each other.

As you head back inside, Sebastian wraps an arm around your shoulders. “You know, for a group of the most elite drivers in the world, they sure get excited about kiddie karting.”

You smile back, “That’s what makes it all the more special.”

***

You tiptoe into your daughter’s room, finding her sprawled out on the bed among a sea of stuffed animals. Sebastian follows closely behind, his excitement barely contained.

“You do the honors,” you whisper, motioning to the tiny alarm clock on her nightstand.

Sebastian nudges the clock and it lets out a soft rendition of a race car engine revving. Your daughter stirs, her little eyes slowly blinking open.

“Vroom vroom,” she murmurs drowsily, pushing herself up with a yawn.

“Morning, sunshine,” you greet, brushing a stray hair from her face. “Ready for your big day?”

She beams, “Karting day?”

Sebastian chuckles, “That’s right! And you’ve got a whole pit crew waiting for you downstairs.”

Her eyes widen in excitement, “Brothers are here?”

You nod, “Bright and early. They couldn’t wait.”

She practically jumps out of bed, “Let’s go! Let’s go! Let’s go!”

Downstairs, the grid kids are in a frenzy of activity, making last-minute checks on the kart, packing snacks, and discussing strategies.

“You sure she doesn’t need a quick racing line tutorial?” Lando asks, pointing at some scribbles on a whiteboard.

Max rolls his eyes, “She’s five, mate.”

“Exactly. The perfect age to start,” Lando retorts.

Your daughter giggles as Charles lifts her onto his shoulders, “Look at you, future world champ!”

George hands her a small helmet, “Safety first!”

She tries it on and it slips down half of her head.

“Maybe we’ll adjust that,” Mick chuckles, helping to resize the straps.

Once everything is packed and ready, the convoy sets off for the track. Your daughter, sandwiched between Lando and George, is treated to a hilariously exaggerated commentary of their drive.

“Watch that apex! Oh no, a dramatic overtake by that ... minivan?” Lando narrates, making your daughter giggle uncontrollably.

At the track, the grid kids swarm around, setting up the kart, unloading equipment, and securing the area.

Lance kneels in front of your daughter. “Now, remember, it’s all about having fun, okay? But also ... don’t crash.”

She giggles, “Okay, Lancey.”

Charles takes her hand, leading her to the kart. “Ready to hop in?”

She nods eagerly, and with a little help, she’s seated and ready.

With the helmet securely in place and the engine purring softly, she looks up at you and Sebastian with big, excited eyes.

“Remember, slow and steady,” you call out, giving her a thumbs-up.

She revs the engine, and under the watchful eyes of her brothers, begins to kart for the first time.

As she makes her way around the track, the grid kids cheer raucously and even get a bit teary-eyed. The sight of the little kart zooming around, driven by your fearless daughter, is a memory none of you will forget.

When she finally finishes her laps and the engine dies down, the grid kids rush over, lifting her into the air in celebration.

Lando, panting from excitement as if he were the one driving, declares, “Best. Day. Ever!”

Your daughter is grinning from ear to ear. “Can we do it again tomorrow?”

Sebastian pulls you close as you watch your children make plans to kart together soon. “Looks like we’ve got another racer in the family.”

Your heart melts when you see the look of pure joy on your daughter’s face as she’s surrounded by her brothers. “Formula 1 better watch out.”

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nhlclover · 2 months

Text

sun to me | jamie drysdale

word count: 1.19k

summary: attempting long distance makes it clear to you and jamie that you need each other

warnings: loneliness, sad jamie, kissing, tiny bit of cursing

notes: loooove this one

Jamie was sprawled out on his bed in his cramped apartment in Philadelphia, staring blankly at the empty walls. He hadn’t decorated yet, let alone had the proper furniture. His bed was simply a mattress on the floor, his coffee table doubling as a kitchen table.

Jamie had been in Philly for about a month now. You’d think a month was enough to adjust to a new city, and while he had settled into a routine and gotten comfortable with all of the city’s quirks, something still felt off.

It was you. He missed you deeply. Your laughter, your presence, your comfort. You were his anchor. But you were tied to your job over 2,000 miles away in Anaheim. You guys had discussed this before he left, that 3 months wasn’t that long and you could withstand it. Then, at the season's end, you’d talk about your future together.

However, here you both were, on opposite sides of the country, distance putting a strain on the both of you.

Jamie did his normal pre-game routine with you on his mind. He thought of the fact that you were probably at work right now, wrapping up final tasks, before heading home and putting on the Flyers game. It was a miracle he found someone as supportive as you, willing to put up with the long days and stress that being a professional athlete could bring.

Each game he played knowing that when he got home he wouldn’t be coming home to you made them harder and harder. The facetimes and calls were not enough anymore and the strain on Jamie was starting to show in his gameplay. Today’s game was horrible. Jamie was benched for almost the entire third after he gave up 3 separate turnovers. Amidst the rowdy Philadelphia crowd, upset that their team was losing, his mind wandered to you. It was always you.

Jamie kept to himself while getting changed and showering, truly wanting to go home just to call you. After an unbearable 5 minutes with the media, Jamie trudged out of the locker room, shoulders slumped and spirits in the basement. Walking down the hall, Jamie feels an arm hook around his shoulders.

“Why the long face?” Cam asks.

Jamie shrugs off Cam's arm, his mind still reeling. "Just had a rough game, man. Ready to get out of here."

Cam flashes him a sly, knowing grin. “It’ll pick up soon, bud.” He says.

Jamie ignores his teammates' words, continuing down the halls of the Wells Fargo Centre. As he turned the bend, greeted by a myriad of voices, there you were.

Jamie could’ve sworn he was seeing things, maybe reaching a point of delusion. But there you were, standing with his teammates' girlfriends. Jamie’s heart lifted upon seeing you, the weight of a thousand worlds falling behind him as he headed straight for you. When he reached you, his arms enveloped you in a tight embrace.

The world around him fades away leaving only you two suspended in this moment. His touch is firm yet gentle, a silent declaration of his need for your presence, your comfort.

“Hi, James.” You say softly into his chest. Your delicate tone nearly sends Jamie over the edge, the reality of everything catching up to him, tears threatening to prick at his eyes.

“Hi, baby.” He says softly. You guys stay there for a few more moments before you force Jamie to walk to his car with you.

Deciding you had so much to talk about, Jamie drove you to a park to walk around while you guys spoke. You intertwined your fingers with Jamie's, drawing strength from the reassuring warmth of his touch. The weight of your words hung heavy in the air, a tangible reminder of the struggles you had endured during your time apart.

“So, what are you doing here?” Jamie asks, his grin having still not faded since first seeing you.

“I had to see you…” You tell him. “So I took two weeks off.”

“You did what?” Jamie asked.

“Jamie, I missed you so much, it was almost unbearable.” You confessed, your voice conveying the pain it had truly caused you. “With the time difference and our weird, conflicting schedules… I had to come and see you.”

Jamie's expression softened, his gaze filled with empathy as he listened to your words. He understood all too well the pain of separation, the relentless tug of loneliness that pulled at his heart with every passing day.

“Y/n, I missed you too. I’ve been fucking miserable.” Jamie said, a small chuckle escaping as he recounts the past couple of days. “It's like… no matter how many times we talk on the phone or text each other, it's never enough. I need you here with me, physically, emotionally… I just…”

Jamie suddenly stops walking, turning to face you.

“Marry me.”

The words were out of Jamie’s mouth before he knew it, the both of you sharing the same shocked reaction to his words. The unexpected proposal makes you freeze, your heart skipping a beat. Despite them being blurted out, Jamie knew that they were real feelings.

“W-what?” You ask. It felt as though time stood still as you processed his words. Jamie takes both of your hands in his, his eyes glimmering.

“I’m serious. Marry me.” He says again. “These last couple of months have been…fucking hell on earth. I’ve been miserable. And for a while, I couldn’t figure out what was wrong. At first, I thought it was the lack of sun… or maybe it was taking me a little longer than I thought to adjust to a new city. But it was you. I couldn’t bear not having you with me.”

Your heart was pounding in your chest, jaw open slack as you were processing his words.

“I want you here in Philly, with me. And whatever it takes.” Jamie says. “You can get another job here, in Philly, I’m sure the guys of their wives have connections here and they could help. Or don’t work! I can support you, I don’t care. What I’m trying to say is-”

You cut off Jamie’s rambling, pressing your lips to his, effectively shutting him up. Your lips melded together, picking up as if you had never been separated. As you parted, a small smile graced your lips. Jamie’s eyes scanned your face, desperate to read what you were thinking.

"Yes," you said, your voice steady with resolve. "Yes, I will marry you. And yes, I will come live with you in Philadelphia. We can figure everything else out later.”

Jamie let out a huff of relief before scooping you up in his arms and spinning you above the ground. You squeal, your laughter ringing like a melody in Jamie’s ears.

“Oh my god, I have a wife!” Jamie cheered loudly.

He leans down pressing a kiss to your lips, holding you close once again. As you held each other close, the weight of loneliness lifted from Jamie's heart, replaced by the comforting certainty of your presence.

“I love you so much.” Jamie whispers against your lips.

#jamie drysdale #jamie drysdale x reader #jamie drysdale imagine #philadelphia flyers #nhl fic #nhl imagine #nhl #flyers hockey #hockey #hockey imagine

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sukunas-wife · 4 months

Note

Can I please get a Sukuna family scenario where maybe they see future Yuji... Maybe when he's all grown up. It's fine if you don't want to do it

Baby Yuji to Grown Yuji 😭😭 I’m not sure it’ll be good but yeah! I’ll try for you 🥺🤍

Yuji left the Palace when he turned 19, the way you cried when you held his face for the last time smothering him in kisses 🥹 He was your baby boy, your first child, sure his sister and brother were still in the house but you loved him deeply. He clung to your side more and never failed to run to your side in trouble. If Sukuna wasn’t there to dry your eyes, there was Yuji to hug you and tell you “It’ll be okay mom, we can fix it! We just gotta.. we gotta.. I don’t know but we’ll figure it out!” That bright smile he had since he was 2, it was the last time you’d see it for who knows how long. You sniffled feeling Megumi pressed himself into your side hugging you, you smiled rubbing his back when he buried his face into your stomach. Nobara was being fiesty saying “who’s gonna miss him anyways! It’s good he’s leaving he was so loud anyways! A real nuisance if anything.”

Still she started to tear up, Sukuna pulled her into his side. The tears fell freely while she held on tight to his shirt.

The house was quieter, as Megumi and Nobara bickered; it was never as lively as when Yuji was home. The years passed slowly before one morning Sukuna came in with Uraume, dropping into his throne you came to see him. He held his hand out to Uraume who gave him a letter, “This is for you.”

Confused, you took the letter, opened it and read it. Sukuna watched and panicked when you started to cry. He stood up coming over to you snatch the letter away to see who had told you what

“Hey mom

It’s Yuji, your favourite son :)

I just wanted to let you know I’ll be coming home soon. It’s been a long time but I think I’m ready! Tell dad to save a fight for me when I get home! I know I can take him now!

I hope this letter actually gets there, maybe I’ll get there first..

Oh! Will you make those sweet and savoury noodles I used to love? I tried but it always tasted burnt or rubbery. Don’t tell Gumi and Noba I’m coming home! I want it to be a surprise! But I should be home in time for the first day of winter. I miss the snowy hills. I can't imagine Megumi going out and messing with all the snow. He always hated the cold unless he changed. Let's go for a walk when I get back! I miss those milk buns and tea you used to make,

Make sure to tell dad I’ll be home so he better be there! He can’t run now.

Signed, your son Yuji”

Sukuna let out a hearty laugh, “Brat really thinks he can take his old man huh? I’ll prove to him he can’t.” The smirk on Sukuna’s face eased you, you smiled the last tears falling.. “Ryo.. What day is it?” He looked confused before Uraume spoke up, “it’s the first day of winter Lady Y/n.” Almost as if on Cue there was a knocking on the palace doors, Sukuna grinned before making his way to his throne gesturing you to get out the room, you didn’t want to because that’s your baby boy but you definitely wanted to have feel better noodles after he got out in his place by his dad. So you left, Megumi and Nobara were both respectively in their own rooms. Odds are Nobara was planning her attire for the festival the city held every year and Megumi.. well he’s probably resting after having trained with his father all day.

——

Sukuna motioned for Uraume to open the doors, they did.

“So Brat, you really think you can take me on now?” The smug look on Sukuna’s face almost faltered when he saw Yuji had similar markings to his own human form. Yuji smiled brightly, a feature Sukuna would’ve lacked if he wasn’t smiling as bright with how his son entered the room confident. “I think it’s time someone gave you a run for your money.” Yuji was confident, and that might have been his downfall, 7 years may have seemed like a long time. But for Sukuna those 7 years were a breeze. Yuji may have been off training but Sukuna had been training his own kids with their own unique techniques. Smacking his hands on the throne's arms, he stood up, “Uraume.” “Yes Lord Sukuna.” He quickly set up a barrier to the throne room.

“Alright Brat, I’ll go easy on you, I think you’ve forgotten who gave you your malevolent shrine.” Yuji laughed, “You gave it to me, but I perfected it.”

Yuji had indeed not perfected the Malevolent Shrine. Here he laid in an all too familiar position, face down in the red liquid blowing bubbles while his 3/400 pound dad sat on his back holding him in place critiquing him on his flaws. Explaining what he could do better, and how he could improve before he lifted his head, “Okay okay I get it, King of Curses geez cut me some slack I’m your son.” Sukuna laughed standing up off his son before offering a hand when Yuji sat up, his legs crossed, hand rubbing the back of his head. Opening his eyes he saw his dads stretch out, for a second he remembered that same when he fell into a pit of snow one winter and looking up he saw his dad stretching his hand out with an unamused expression that turned to a smirk when Yuji tried to shuffle away. He grabbed him by the back of his shirt pulling him up like he was nothing.

Yuji smiled with closed eyes, taking his dads hand, being pulled straight into a bone crushing hug. While Sukuna crushed him his domain disappeared, “Welcome Home Yuji.” Sukuna put him down, patting his shoulder with a heavy hand, Yuji standing rigid as he smiled, body shook slightly under the weight of his dads heavy pats. He was proud of his son's improvement, but overall he was glad to have his son back home.

Looking around Yuji asked “Where’s mom?” Sukuna’s head cocked to the side, “Your letter got here a few minutes before you did, when you knocked she went off to kitchen. I was doing her a favour by keeping you busy for so long. Yuji sniffed and his stomach growled, the savoury smell of his favourite food coming through the palace, “m hungry.”

Sukuna smiled, crossing his arms over his chest nodding with his head, “Let’s go find your mother then.”

——-

“Mom?” You smiled over your shoulder “Hey sweetie.” Megumi rested his head on your shoulder hugging you. He was watching how you were cutting spring onions. His stomach growled when he spoke up, “We haven’t had these noodles since Yuji was here, I thought you forgot how to make them..” he was looking at the bowls of savoury noodles steaming topped with sesame seeds. One, two, three, four, five… six? “You and Nobara never asked and when I did make em I had to force your dad finish the pot with me when you two made excuses not to eat.” You laughed lightly, bringing a hand up to rub his head.

He huffed through his nose, “It reminds us of him..” you turned to see the top of his head, cheek pressed against your shoulder. You started to sprinkle the spring onions over the middles, “You act like he’s dead Gumi,” kissing the top of his head, “Go get Nobara tell her she doesn’t have a choice. Drag her back if you have to.” He let out a curt laugh, “alright but if you hear her screaming.” You smiled nodding with your head, “Go Gumi.” He stretched standing back up straight, “I’ll be back then.”

Just as he left through the other door Yuji and Sukuna came in laughing from the opposite door. “So he was looking up at me with this ugly face. I almost felt bad for him but I told him “Know your place fool and shhhhk” Yuji made a slicing motion, Sukuna looked proud. “Mom!” Yuji’s face perked up when he saw you, he ran over to hug you “missed you…” For a second his voice was shaky and there was a crack in his resolve. You teared up hugging him back and not letting go. He leaned down and pressed his cheek against your shoulder, eyes closed, the same way he used to sleep on your shoulder as a kid. His grip didn’t loosen when you rubbed your hand up and down his back, “missed you too baby.” Sukuna behind Yuji’s back made a gagging motion before he looked over at the noodle bowl pulling on a noodle to eat. “Cmon I think your dads hungry and Gumi went to get Nobara.”

He didn’t move, he just hummed and you patted his back, “yuuu” you cooed at him before he stood up, “Alright, I’m starved! I’ll help take em out.” You swatted his hand away, “We don’t pay the kitchen help to just sit around. You go sit down.” The kitchen staff started to get everything ready, Sukuna pulled you into his side hugging you with both arms into his left side. “He looks so much like you Ryo…” Sukuna nodded chest puffing up, “Brat’s a damn menace too, wait till he tells you about what he did to a group or sorcerers who tried to wrongly attack him.”

You looked up at Sukuna worried, and he rolled his eyes, “That’s OUR son, I’ll be damned if I ever thought he couldn’t handle his own.”

He squeezed your shoulder nodding with his head, following his lead you both came to see Megumi and Nobara harassing Yuji. Megumi was ignoring him entirely facing away but you could see the soft smile. Nobara was pinching his cheeks forcefully, moving his face around and through it all Yuji was smiling brightly, his eyes closed, “I missed you both too.” Nobara looked shocked and she let him go, she looked away, “Yeah..” you didn’t miss how she closed her eyes with a smug smile.

Tag: @sad-darksoul @cyder-puff @satorisgirl @bontensbabygirl @lupita97lm @queen-luna-007 @sakuxxi @mercymccann @simpforyoubitch @certainduckanchor @domainofmarie @najiiix @bakugou-katsukis-wife @amitiel-truth @souyasplushie @mylovelessnightmare

Some these won’t tag 🥹 I’m sorry 🤍🤍

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devvelle · 1 year

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All Mine

Genre: fluff

Characters: dorm leaders (Riddle, Leona, Azul, Kalim, Vil, Idia, and Malleus) x gn!reader

Scenario: what makes your boyfriend jealous and what he does about it <3

Notes: none!

Riddle Rosehearts ; when you're having fun with someone else.

Even as your boyfriend, Riddle can’t do things with you that would go against the dorm rules or hurt his image—which you totally understand. But when he sees you laughing with someone else, doing things he can't partake in... it makes him really jealous.

Eventually, once it gets to him, he really won't want you hanging out with those people anymore.

He knows they probably aren’t being bad influences, but he will act like they are. He'll give them unimpressed stares when you're not looking, and if they're in his dorm he’ll use his unique magic against them to keep them away from you.

When you two are in private, he'll try let loose more. It’ll feel unnatural for him, but he wants to have fun with you, too. He’s afraid you’ll get bored of him.

If you play along for his sake and try to bring him out of his shell, he'll appreciate it. He might even be honest about his feelings once he’s comfortable telling you the truth.

But if you tell him that he doesn’t need to change for you, he'll get really shy. He'll deny feeling jealous, but reassurance of your love would mean a lot to him in the moment.

Ultimately, he just wants to be the one making you smile the most.

“As long as you’re sure you’re happy… Yes, I love you too.”

Leona Kingscholar ; when he sees others trying to take care of you.

Leona is a gentleman. Maybe everyone else has trouble believing so, but he's incredibly attentive once you're together. He escorts you places, buys you things you need, and comforts you when need be.

But if he happens to see someone else trying to do any of that for you, he will not be happy. He sees it as disrespectful, like they're trying to tell him he isn't doing a good enough job. To make it worse, you’re too kind to refuse these gestures from others, which sets his jealousy off.

With his temper, you will know immediately. Leona doesn't like to play games. He will tell you what’s bothering him and ask why you’re entertaining that behavior when he's right there. If you can’t give him an answer, he’ll stick himself to you like glue and won’t let anyone else near you for the day.

Assigns Ruggie to the very important task of keeping tabs on you afterward. Gives him specific instructions to monitor your conversations; if you’re talking to anyone for too long or if they try to do something for you, Ruggie is to interrupt and say you’ve been summoned by Leona.

Mandatory cuddles and telling him you love him is your punishment. He hates feeling jealous.

"You know what you signed up for with me. Now, come here. You’re mine."

Azul Ashengrotto ; when he becomes aware of the options you have.

Seeing how popular you are among the student body makes Azul particularly jealous.

You’re friends with so many others within the walls of Night Raven College; dozens of boys with promising futures make up your circle, including several princes, and all are just one call away from coming to your aid should you ask. So it’s a bit hard for him to not feel jealous when they don't seem to back off even after you announce your relationship.

He’ll wait it out at first, but if they don’t leave you alone he’ll be really ticked off. However, Azul is aware that he isn’t particularly intimidating and can’t fight.

So what does he do? He shows you off instead, to prove to them that you're his.

If he wasn't using Magicam before, now he's posting you every day. He's posting pictures of you with new jewelry he's bought you and images of you cuddled up to him at night, even linking sweet love songs to them.

When he checks his views and finds the individuals that triggered his jealousy, his satisfaction in through the roof. Don’t question his smirk.

If, for some reason, flaunting you on social media isn’t enough, then Azul might have Floyd give your friends a scare. Nothing serious, just enough to make them delete your number and change their routes to class to avoid you. You wont even notice since Azul is now escorting you to class on his arm.

"Do you not want me to show you off? I don't see a problem with reminding everyone who you chose."

Kalim Al-Asim ; when you might be taken away.

Kalim trusts you so much, so he just doesn’t get jealous. Your relationship is so healthy and communication between you is great.

The only time he'd maybe feel jealousy would be if someone planted the idea in his head. Like if Jamil makes a joke about you and someone you're with looking quite close, Kalim might start questioning the situation.

However, he'd be more concerned for your safety than jealous. He'd approach you and drag you away in a rush with an innocent excuse to the other individual. After all, if they're trying to charm you while knowing you’re in a relationship, they have to be bad news.

He'd talk to you about it immediately, though, before any of his thoughts spiral and before you can think he’s overreacting.

Would go heavier on the PDA to remind you he trusts and cares for you. To some extent, he might be thinking he can gross that person out this way so they’ll get the hint and give it up.

Kalim is just too sweet of a guy to feel jealous honestly. There’s not much else to say. He’ll make you feel so safe.

"Just wanted to make sure you were okay! I think we should steer clear of them for now, yeah?"

Vil Schoenheit ; when you don't see what he sees.

Vil gets annoyed easily, definitely. But it would either take something truly concerning or the involvement of someone he deems a threat to make him feel jealousy.

He often acts like he knows what's best for you, so he tells you to stay away from certain classmates. Especially the ones that he sees being a bit too kind to you.

If you dismiss Vil’s concerns and the individuals get bolder with you to spite him, he’ll be pissed. Honestly, if he didn’t have contractual obligations and a reputation to maintain, he might resort to threats.

If it goes on for long enough, he’ll start feeling jealous.

The result is a super petty Vil.

If you want to spend time with him, he'll redirect you to one of those friends. He'll ask you why you want his attention now, when you clearly preferred theirs yesterday.

Though it’s hard for him to turn you away when all he wants is to hug and kiss you, his mind turns it into a silly game to find out if you love him most of all. This keeps him in a cycle of pettiness and insecurity.

Still, he doesn't want to neglect you. He wants you to see his perspective, so once he’s had enough of going without you, he’ll explain why he feels his worries are justified.

Once you exchange apologies, he’ll return all the love he withheld.

"Now do you understand? I'm only trying to protect you from ill intentions."

Idia Shroud ; when he can't be the one that's with you.

Get jealous very often, but keeps it to himself.

Idia knows you have to hang out with others a lot because of his boundaries. He doesn’t always feel comfortable enough to go out, so you ask your other friends for company to avoid pressuring him.

Still, it doesn’t make him feel great that there is always someone jumping at the chance to be with you.

When he gets notifs that you posted to Magicam only to see you looking happy with someone else, his jealousy escalates quickly.

Unfortunately, Idia isn't very good at communication especially when it comes to his feelings. So he will give you space instead, and let you enjoy yourself to prevent ruining your day with his doubts.

He will continue lurking your profiles for the next few days, but he won't like anything or reply to your messages. He'll self-isolate until you come to him, whether it be hours or days later.

When you do come see him in person to ask what’s wrong, you'll be stuck with him a while. He won’t admit to feeling jealous, but it’ll be clear from his questions that he wants to be sure you still want to be with him.

Lots of quality time will fix his mood. He might prefer the quiet of his room to the noisy outside world, but he makes it very clear that you’re always welcome to disturb him. He’d much prefer that to seeing you with other people.

"We can go somewhere together soon, so don't ask anyone else anymore! B-but for now, could you spend the night?"

Malleus Draconia ; when you give away your time with him.

Malleus loves to have alone time with you. He's very grateful that you always reserve time in your day just for him.

But on the occasion that someone seeks to interrupt this time, and you don't turn them away or happen to cancel on Mal entirely for them, that’s when he’d get jealous.

He'd dismiss himself from the situation to let you take care of your business, but he would actually just be hiding nearby and listening.

If the person seems to be taking up your time for reasons that Malleus himself finds unworthy, he won't hesitate to use a bit of magic to make that person suddenly leave you alone, as if possessed.

He’ll return to you pouty and distracted. He’ll initiate lots of physical touch, and might even suggest going to his dorm room while he milks all your affection.

He doesn’t hide feelings of jealousy because he’s learned your instinct is to coddle him when he makes it obvious. Your giggles and half-hearted apologies in response to his melodramatic words of worry make him fall deeper in love.

When he’s jealous, Malleus doesn’t care for words of reassurance as much as he does actions. He is quite secure in your relationship, but he will never get tired of seeing how comfortable you are with him. He loves knowing that you won’t ever run away.

"Now that they're out of the way, I do wish you'd learn to say no. I am quite selfish when it comes to my time with you."

a/n: Okay so I tried to get Riddle's Halloween card but I could NOT get any SSR until freaking pity. Then that last key set gave me both Jack and Ruggie's Dorm Uniform SSRs instead of Riddle 😭 I thought, "Wow, Leona really sent his underclassmen after me?" And that gave me the idea for jealousy hcs…

Hope u all enjoy, holiday prompts will probably be coming soon! kisses <3

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storiesofsvu · 5 days

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Decadent Desires Ch 2

Future Emily Prentiss x reader Warnings: language, alcohol consumption, sexual situations alluded to. Okay y'all were super interactive on the first chapter so I figured I'd give you an early chapter as a treat. Lol.

A full week had passed, another one full of overbearing work, handling the slight squabbling from the team while also dealing with constant badgering from the higher ups and Emily was over it. She scooped the final bite of linguine out of the pan, chewing it down while she moved the dish into the dishwasher thankful at least that she didn’t have to hand wash things tonight. It had been an annoying week and the bottle of wine on the counter had been calling her name since about two in the afternoon, the thought of an orgasm to relieve some stress on her mind from the moment she got home. However it wasn’t close enough to shower or bed time yet so the wine would have to do for now.

Emily refilled her glass, picked up her phone and opened the door to the patio, figuring at the very least she could enjoy the warm evening and actually get some fresh air after being cooped up in the office all week. Settling into one of the chairs she swiped open her phone and immediately had to resist the temptation to check her email, reminding herself she wouldn’t be so frustrated if she left work at work unless it was completely urgent. So she scrolled through a couple of social media apps, wasting time looking at pictures posted by friends, which in turn made her feel even more like she was missing out on something. She closed Instagram and her thumb hovered over the screen while she tried to figure out what to doom-scroll on next, finding herself staring at the little red apps Heather had installed. She took a breath, a large sip of wine and bit the bullet, opening the first one and she was pleasantly surprised she could scroll through a handful of profiles without setting one up for herself first.

‘Caitlin. 21.’

“Okay well you’re barely legal.” Emily muttered to herself, scrolling down further.

‘Steven. 32.’

A better age, but still a step in the wrong direction.

‘Kyla. 38.’

Better. But she could only see the main picture, age and location. Pulling her lip into her mouth she flicked around through a couple of pages until she found the how to tips and realized she would have to make a profile after all, even if it was just to see more information. She let out a huff, closing the app, hesitating only a minute before she opened up her text conversation with Heather.

‘Are you SURE this is a good idea?’

Her phone buzzed only a few seconds later.

‘The apps are fine. I’m assuming you haven’t even made a profile yet and it’s just pushing out what it thinks people want to see. You can curate your own experience once you put in your preferences.’

‘And if it still sucks?’

‘Oh come on, what’s the harm in one date? At the very least it’ll keep you entertained.’

‘Who said I’m not entertained?’

‘It’s Friday night and you’re texting me instead of being out somewhere.’

‘And you’re answering.’

‘I’m waiting for Rob to pull the car around; you just caught me at a convenient time.’ ‘Make a profile. There’s no harm in seeing what’s out there. You can blame me if it’s terrible.’

‘Add on a free lunch.’

‘Tell you what, this doesn’t work, I’ll bump it up to dinner and show you a couple of the discreet clubs around the city.’

‘Mark me down as intrigued. Deal.’

Emily let out a huff, swigging back a mouthful of wine before finally reopening the first app to start to put together her own profile. Maybe there really was a chance that this could work out.

Carly. 35.

Emily was almost late, one work call turning into another, turning into getting put on hold meant she didn’t have time to go change after work, arriving at Smoke and Mirrors still in her business casual. She was just in the nick of time and instantly found her date nestled into a cozy table on the patio overlooking the river, martini already in front of her.

It wasn’t necessarily that she slipped back into work mode, but her job did help her meet and interact with new people on a regular basis fairly easily. A warm smile and greeting, unsure how awkward something like a handshake would be considering the situation. A few rounds of drinks, a couple of split appetizers, and a decent enough time. While Carly could hold a perfectly good conversation and Emily could see them perhaps being friendly in the future, it wasn’t the right vibe. It certainly wasn’t helping that Emily could practically feel every set of eyes in the lounge on them throughout the night and that you didn’t have to be a profiler to put it together what kind of a situation was going on. It made Emily uncomfortable, like everyone was judging them, more specifically, her. If the two of them had been more friendly to each other right off the bat you might have been able to tell that it wasn’t a date, that they were colleagues or friends but that simply wasn’t the case. Her mind wandered to the thought that there was someone in the room that likely just assumed they were mother, daughter and that made her skin absolutely crawl and instantly ask if they could get the check. She at least felt a little bit better when Carly offered to split it, offering her a small smile that meant she was about on the same page.

Alice. 36.

This time Emily gave herself more than enough time to get home, have a glass of wine to help her relax and change into something more date appropriate. Alice had recommended Fiola and Emily had simply gone along with it, not realizing just how high end it actually was, her eyes widening at the fact that a single cocktail could set you back twenty-five to almost thirty dollars much less the food menu. At the very least, it seemed like the restaurant’s lounge was the place to be for date night on a Thursday, couples scattered throughout the place in various levels of dress. She noticed something on the menu advertising it being the place to be prior to theatre events and their server asked if they were attending a show tonight.

Emily had a little bit more faith in this one, feeling more comfortable considering the setting, actually relaxing as she laughed over her very expensive drink. It didn’t take long for the conversation to roll around to what one did when not out on the town and she let it slip that she worked for the government, a few more carefully worded questions and Alice had enough to figure out she was a fed, excusing herself to use the bathroom. When the room started to clear and Emily realized the other woman’s purse was gone from the back of her chair she let out a soft groan, realizing she was definitely stuck with the pricey cheque.

Lily 31.

Emily knew going in this one could be risky based off age alone. Lily’s profile seemed like she did this full time and she already wasn’t sure about things by the time she set foot into 1798. Her suspicions were confirmed when her phone went off with an urgent call she had to take, letting out a sigh as she returned to the table explaining that she had to leave for work and likely wouldn’t be back for a few days at least. In return Lily let out a huff and a whine like she was a toddler, crossing her arms over her chest and demanded that Emily pay for a three course dinner and send her roses each day she was going to be gone since she had wasted her time. Emily outwardly laughed, saying drinks were the only thing she’d even agreed to have, much less pay for and left as fast as she came in.

Kimberly. 39.

This one got postponed immediately as a case kept them out of town longer than anticipated. They were still only chatting back and fourth on the app and Emily was venting about being the one in charge and how her team were agents and you’d think they could handle certain things themselves but apparently not. She woke up the next morning to find a couple of messages that insinuated Kimberly might have been doing other things for money that weren’t exactly legal and thought it wasn’t a good idea to get involved with a cop. After Emily sent a reply agreeing, the match disappeared.

Emma. 34.

This one started off slow, a match, Emily shot off a message and waited a while to hear back. She was pleasantly surprised when her phone pinged with the reply she’d been hoping to get for a few days. They got along wonderfully, everything seemed to be falling right into place, their opinions, expectations, they shared a handful of the same favourite movies, foods, for once it seemed like things would be perfect. Emily opened the app when she got home from work that night to ask her out for drinks that weekend to find that she’d been completely ghosted, unmatched and no way to find Emma again.

Kori. 40.

The second match that had gone off without a hitch and a plan to meet at Blue Duck Tavern that coming Thursday night. Emily arrived a little bit early thanks to a complete lack of traffic and figured she would just grab a drink at the bar while waiting. You could only imagine her confusion when she was tapped on the shoulder and turned around to see an older than middle aged man with a timid smile introducing himself, apologizing that he didn’t look like his pictures.

That one earned an eye roll and a ‘yeah, right’ before Emily was heading for the door.

The week had finally come to a close and Emily had dismissed the BAU shortly after lunch, telling the team to get out of there while they still had the chance and everyone was quick to leave the building, herself included. Construction rerouted her normal commute home and when she ended up in the same neighbourhood as Heather’s office her mind wandered back to how unsuccessful her past two weeks had been and before she even really realized it, she was pulling into the parking lot.

“I’m being serious Heather, it’s fucking terrible.” She groaned, dropping down into a chair across from the other woman’s desk. “This is almost as bad as dating men was.”

“From what I heard some of them are men.” Heather replied with a tease and Emily shot her a glare.

“I just thought this would be easier.”

“Finding the right fit is the hard part, it’ll smooth over once you do.” Heather flipped the book in front of her closed, standing from her chair and crossing over to the liquor cart, filling up two glasses of scotch.

“I didn’t want to deal with the hard part though.” Emily continued to mope, thanking her for the glass.

“Drink. You’re too pent up.” She settled back at her desk, “you really do need to get laid.”

“Don’t you think I’m trying!?” She sucked back a mouthful of the liquor, stewing in her thoughts for a moment. “Please tell me you’re having more success in this than I am, how’s your bartender doing?”

“Are you kidding?” Heather laughed, “you saw her. She’s practically pathetic. She was pretty enough, but my god the level of insecurity? The constant whining and worrying? Don’t get me wrong, I love a good brat but there was no way she wouldn’t have been crying on my doorstep begging me to leave my husband in a week’s time.”

“Have you had that happen before?” Her eyes widened at the sheer thought of it as Heather nodded.

“Best piece of advice I can give you, don’t let them know where you live. Stick to hotels.”

“Noted.”

“What are you having the biggest trouble with? Maybe I can help.”

Emily sighed softly, swirling her cup as she stared into it, sorting through the string of failed dates, “honestly I don’t even know. Maybe I just need to play around with the age range…. Would probably help to bump it up a little it.”

“Anything under thirty-five does usually end up getting messy.”

“I want someone who has their life a little bit more put together; you know?”

“Mmhmm.” Heather replied over the rim of her drink, “you need to make sure that this isn’t their only source of income, that they have something else going on to fill their time and bank account up. Maybe someone who has an actual partner.”

“I don’t know about that.” Her nose crinkled, “would feel wrong. But someone who has a full time job and wouldn’t be completely dependant on me certainly would be nice. I don’t have the time or energy for that.”

“You need a gorgeous, ambitious girl who knows how to be discreet in public and likes get her brains fucked out in private.”

“Exactly.” She laughed, taking another sip of her drink as Heather tilted her phone screen towards her, hitting a couple of buttons before returning her attention to the other woman, “you know, if you ever think of changing career paths…”

“Become a matchmaker for sugar babies?” She chuckled, “there would likely be a market for that, maybe after retirement.”

Emily laughed, shaking her head as she watched the wheels start turning in the other woman’s head. She heard a brief knock on the door behind her before it swung open,

“I didn’t realize you needed this by the end of the day, sorry.” You swung through the office, coming to perch on the side of Heather’s desk as you handed her the file.

“It’s alright, it slipped my mind too.” Heather replied as she opened the file, skimming through it.

Her eyes flicked over to Emily briefly, watching the way her gaze drifted from the designer heels on your feet all the way to the necklace laying against your collarbone. You were dressed professionally yet incredibly stylish, dark pencil skirt, a peach sleeveless blouse tucked into it, blazer no doubt laying over the back of your desk chair. A delicate silver watch around one wrist, perfectly manicured nails and eyes that were suddenly set on her.

“Hi, sorry to interrupt. You’re FBI, right? Prentiss?” Your words jolted her out of her trance and she caught herself scrambling over the fact that you knew her name, wondering if she’d left her ID badge on after work.

“Well now I feel bad.” She laughed.

“Don’t.” Heather cut in, her eyes back on the file, “she just does checks on anyone that comes in here.”

“Ignore her.” You replied with a grin, sticking out your hand to introduce yourself, “y/n Walton.”

“And you’re what? Secret security?” Emily asked with a tease and you laughed as Heather tucked the file away into her desk.

“She’s the head of my PR team, does incredible work.”

“I should hope so, you practically groomed me into the assistant you needed.”

“I did not—” Heather scoffed, “you’re a horrible tease.”

“I do my job and then some, and I do it phenomenally.” You showboated for a second, grinning over at Emily before looking up at your boss, “which is why I’m double checking it’s still okay to duck out early tonight?”

“Why?” The other woman asked with a smirk, “you have a hot date or something?”

“Heather, please.” You barked out a laugh, “you’re a slave driver! You know I don’t have time to properly date with my schedule.”

“So why the need to play hooky?”

“A new Netflix special drops at six and I have a frozen pizza, a pint of ice cream and that bottle of Bordeaux screaming my name.” You slipped off the side of her desk, “besides, you still owe me the OT for putting together the gift baskets and flower arrangements for Senator Reeves. You do remember you have an assistant for that kind of shit, right?”

“Oh but sweetheart you’re so much better than them.”

“I know.” You grinned at her, “which is why I’m leaving early.”

She laughed, shaking her head, “keep your phone on.”

“Of course.” You turned, smiling across at Emily, “nice to meet you Agent Prentiss.”

Emily couldn’t help the way her eyes followed you out of the room before she finally turned back to Heather who was grinning like the cheshire cat over the rim of her drink.

“What?” She asked, feigning confusion and Heather chuckled.

“You liked what you saw.”

“Hard not to.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you drool like that over someone before.”

“I—I was not drooling!”

“Maybe not from your mouth.”

“Heather!” Emily felt her cheeks begin to burn, attempting to hide behind her glass as the brunette let out a dark laugh.

“Here, at least take her phone number.” Picking up a pen she scrawled the digits out onto a post it note, handing it to Emily.

“I don’t have time to date, you know this.”

“And you heard her.” She gestured toward the door, “she doesn’t either. You wanted someone with their head on straight who is comfortable occupying themselves when you’re working. I make her schedule; I guarantee she works as many hours as you do. Besides… she’s done this a couple of times before.”

That caught Emily’s attention, looking up from the yellow paper in her hand with her brow furrowed, “really?”

“Yes.”

“With women?”

“She needed some help through college, I was bored.” Heather shrugged, “worked out for both of us and now she’s on my actual payroll.”

“She’s been working for you that long?”

“Mmhm.” Heather nodded.

“So you really did groom her?” Emily teased and it was Heather’s turn to scoff, rolling her eyes.

“Just call her.” She half glared, “god knows she could use a night out, and one where she doesn’t have to rub elbows with politicians the entire time. She deserves a break and likely needs a good fuck, both of which I’m sure you can give to her.”

“We really don’t need to have that conversation.” She laughed, tucking the post it into her pocket, “but thank you. I will think about it.”

“Don’t think too long.” Heather smiled as Emily got up from her chair, scooping up her jacket from the back of it. “If you come back here in two weeks complaining about the shitty apps and you haven’t called her yet I’ll start feeding her lies about how much you suck.”

“Okay, okay.” She laughed, “I’ll call. And I’ll see you later.”

_________________

@mickey-gomez @momlifebehard @daddy-heather-dunbar @maybe-a-humanbean @rustyzebra @leftoverenvy @kades95 @dextur @supercriminalbean @emilyprentisssluvr @lex13cm @zizzlekwum @emobabeyy @riveramorylunar @scorpsik @onmykneesformarvel @inlovewithemilyprentiss @regalmilfs4me @ara-a-bird @five-bi-five-mind @inlovewithmiddleagewomen @hotchs-bitch @ollysmulti @kmc1989 @irishavengersassemble @hopedoesntknow @venromanova @waitaminuteashh @noahrex @imlike-so-gaydude @wittygutsy @cx-emerald-cx @momily @nilaues @borinxnovak @soverign @v3nusxsky @blackbird-brewster @mccdreamys-writes @l4yne @obsessedwjill @supercorpstan97 @asolitaryrose3 @honeyycatt @trauma-factory @lisqueen

#emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #criminal minds #decadent desires #criminal minds fanfic #emily prentiss fanfiction #heather dunbar

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ayeforscotland · 2 months

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Sora looks awesome from OpenAI and then also Chat with RTX (Nvidia) will have a personal local LLM on your own machine but new windows updates will have co-pilot too. The future of AI is going to be awesome. As someone in the data field, you have to keep moving with it or be left without. IT is definitely an exciting time.

As someone else in the data field, my full background is in data and data flow, AI is the latest buzzword that a small group of people in Silicon Valley have pushed to work people up into a frenzy.

The people cheering on AI are the same people who said NFTs were going to radically change the world of work.

I think there’s positive uses for AI, particularly in pattern recognition, like detecting cancer.

However, Sora looks like shit. It’s producing videos of three-legged cats, and it’s using stolen work to do it. And sure, it’ll get better, but without regulation all it will do is poison the well of human knowledge as certain groups begin to create things that aren’t real. We move into a world where evidence can be fabricated.

Why are generative AI fans targeting artists who voice their concerns? Every day I see some AI techbro tweeting an artist and saying they’ve just scrolled through their art and fed it to an algorithm. It is scummy behaviour.

As a fellow ‘data field’ person, you’ll know that AI is also only as useful as what we feed it. Most organisations don’t know where their data actually is, they’re desperately trying to backpedal their huge push to the cloud and host things on premise. The majority of digital transformation projects fail, more fines are being handed out for failing compliance than ever, and companies can’t possibly claim to be cyber secure when they don’t know where they’re holding their data.

AI won’t fix any of this. It needs human engineering and standardisation to fix, non-technical and technical teams need to understand the connectivity of every process and piece of technology and maybe then some form of AI can be used to optimise processes.

But you can’t just introduce AI and think it fixes large-scale issues. It will amplify them if you continue to feed it garbage.

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dilemmaontwolegs · 1 year

Text

Shades of Grey || CL16 {1}

Summary: You may be the newest F1 driver for Williams but you have known Charles since your karting years. Being rival drivers never changed the fact he was your friend and would always look out for you, on and off the track. The only problem was you wished you could be more than friends. Warnings: 18+ only, reader injuries, angst. Word Count: 2k

F1 Masterlist || Part One || Part Two || Part Three || Part Four || Spotify Playlist

Adrenaline was always running through your veins the night before a race. It was the same explosive mix of brimming excitement laced with a hint of fear. So when the track was closed and the flood lights went dark you would quietly leave your motorhome and walk the grid.

The silence was peaceful in a way that couldn’t be found at any other time. 3am was like a parallel universe where all the distractions and worries were lost to the stars above. You were in a world of your own.

“You should be sleeping,” Charles said as he looked down where you lay under the starting lights.

You hadn’t even heard his footsteps approaching as you imagined the track, your fingers twitching with the memory of its banks and turns. Though it was cold asphalt beneath you, it was the memory of the moulded seat that you felt against your thin clothes.

As the first and only female driver there was a pressure that the other drivers would never feel. You had to fight for not just your position but for all the future female drivers who aspired to race in Formula One. If you didn’t meet the expectations then it wasn’t just your future at stake and you felt the weight of that every time you sat in the car. It drove you to push harder and test the limits of the car, it drove you to practise more than the other drivers.

You were pulled from your thoughts and looked up the length of his body. You took in everything from the loose grey sweatpants to the plain white t-shirt and then to the eyes that had been witness to your greatest and worst moments.

“Lie down,” you said as you patted the cold ground beside you. “It’ll be like old times.”

“We’ve come a long way since F3.” Despite the words, he laid down beside you and you laced your hand with his. He had always let you take comfort in the touch since he knew how nervous you got, even after years of racing. Those nerves had only increased after your recent debut into Formula One.

“Does it get easier?” you asked quietly, not wanting to disturb the silence of the night.

You looked across at him, the moonlight illuminating his eyes that seemed torn between wanting to calm you and wanting to be honest. “It doesn’t get harder.”

You lost yourself in his eyes and remembered dreaming of a time when you thought the friendship might be more. That dream had slipped away as his career took off and yours remained the same. Your paths had no longer crossed often but you had still tried to keep in touch despite the newfound distance. If friendship was all you could have then you would take it if the alternative was having nothing. But you would always ask yourself ‘what if’.

“You’ll catch a cold lying down here all night,” Charles said, cleaving through the moment and shaking you from your daydream. “Vamos.” You groaned but let him pull you to your feet and he slung his arm over your shoulders. “Can’t have you anything but your best for tomorrow.”

“Maybe it will be the day I finally beat you.”

Charles chuckled. “Would I still have to be your slave for a week?”

You laughed at the reminder of the challenge that had been set years ago and shook your head. “I wouldn’t know what to do with you for a whole week.”

He looked down the corner of his eye at you and his lips twitched up. “I’m sure you’d think of something.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the deepening in his tone and the way he swallowed afterwards like the words were thick with meaning. Were you reading too far into it? Was it just hope leading you to misunderstand the innocent statement?

You would never be brave enough to ask him and risk making a fool of yourself, so you parted ways when you reached your motorhome.

“Goodnight, Charles,” you murmured as you reached the first step and turned, the added height leaving you eye to eye.

He leaned in slowly and you froze as his cologne infused with the air you breathed before his warm lips pressed softly to your cheek. “Goodnight, Y/N. Sweet dreams.”

You hated starting towards the back of the grid but there was only so much you could do with a car that didn’t have a big budget like some of the other teams. Still, Williams had given you an opportunity no other team had so you would make the best of it.

The first light turned red and you began your starting sequence. At lights out the world faded away. There was no one and nothing but four wheels and the track.

Accelerate, brake, turn, repeat.

Your pace was strong but it wasn’t enough and though you overtook a McLaren, an AlphaTauri and a Hass, the leaders were coming from behind to lap you. You kept aside on the straights, letting Max, Lewis and Checo overtake with their DRS that you couldn’t match and then a familiar red Ferrari appeared in your mirrors.

The last straight of the lap was coming to an end but Charles moved to take the outside and you spared a glance as he passed. You swore he looked right back at you despite the concentration he needed to keep on the tight corner he was entering.

It all happened so quickly but on the contrary time seemed to slow down.

You turned your steering wheel into the corner and felt the tension pop as the entire console dislodged from the locking system that held it in place. The corner was rapidly closing and you were stuck on a collision course towards the barrier with a console that wouldn’t click back into place. You slammed your foot on the brake and all four wheels locked, tread burning plumes of smoke as the friction melted the rubber.

Charles turned into the corner and you begged the universe to let him pass before you reached him. A shudder rippled through the chassis as your front wing clipped his back tire and a new fear gripped you as he spun back around to face you. For a moment you were face to face and his gloved hand reached above the halo as if he could save you from what was to come.

You took comfort in that small gesture and crossed your arms over your harness to brace for impact.

Weightlessness washed over you as the car hit the gravel side on and the right hand tires dug in, the shift in the mass lifting the left hand wheels off the ground. Pain exploded through you as the entire weight of the car slammed down into the gravel and flipped too many times to count.

Sky. Gravel. Sky. Gravel. Sky. Grass. Sky.

Your radio crackled in your ear as the world stopped spinning and you stared up at the blue sky over Imola. “Are you okay?”

The taste of copper filled your mouth and when you tried to speak only a pained wheeze came out. You couldn’t understand what was happening as the sky turned grey, the sunlight fading before your eyes.

“Y/N!”

You could hear Charles screaming over the ringing in your ears but you couldn’t answer him, though you desperately tried to. It was getting harder to breathe through the bubbling in your chest and the little air you could pull was laced with smoke and fumes.

You looked up at the grey sky again and felt the sudden heat against your back. Not clouds. Smoke.

You reached for the harness and screamed through the pain of trying to unbuckle them with the ribs that were undoubtedly broken.

“Let me go!” Charles screamed. “Help her!”

The heat was unbearable even with the fireproofs and there was a moment where the world seemed to fall silent, like the very air had frozen still. The bubble burst out in a shockwave. White hot light flashed blindingly bright and in an instant the pain was gone.

The track was empty and the debris had long since been cleared. The only reminder of the horrific crash were the deep gouges in the grass verge and the damaged concrete wall that had stopped you going any further.

You didn’t belong here. You didn’t belong in this black and white world, this place where all the colour had faded away like a photograph left in the sun. Where you had once seen the world in vibrant blues, lively greens and…Ferrari red, it was all now shades of grey.

Was this the end? Was this how your eternity would be spent, anchored to the last place you remembered?

“Happy Birthday.” A quiet voice broke your revelry and a moment of warmth filled you as he unknowingly stepped through the spot you stood. A shiver went down his spine and the petals of the bouquet he held trembled before he placed them on the scorch marks that stained the concrete wall.

Your birthday? How much time had passed while you stood rooted to the track?

“I’m sorry it took so long to visit.” He sank to his knees on the grass, not caring about the mud that stained his jeans as he dropped his head in his hands. “I miss you.”

You wished you could ease his pain but the hand you placed on his shoulder went right through. Arthur’s didn’t though, and you watched as his brother comforted him in a way you no longer could.

“I miss you too,” you whispered to the wind that picked up down the straight.

“She was so nervous before the race. What if she felt something was going to go wrong? What if I missed something?”

“Charles, you can’t beat yourself up wondering ‘what if’. It was an accident, and it doesn’t make it any easier to swallow but they happen,” Arthur said as he sat beside his older brother. “You’ve read the report, the steering console malfunctioned.”

“Arthur’s right,” Pierre said as he arrived with his own bouquet of flowers, placing them beside Charles’. “There was nothing anyone could have done.”

Charles sighed with defeat and seemed to shrink in upon himself as he plucked out the black blades of grass. “I could have told her how I felt. I always thought we would have time, I always thought I would have her.”

Your soul shattered at his admission and if you could cry in this state the track would have become an ocean. All those years wasted when if you had just told him how you felt you would have found out he felt the same.

You would give anything to have that time back.

“You’re talking like she’s dead already,” Pierre snapped and you jerked your head around to him. “There’s still a chance she could wake up.”

Charles scrambled to his feet and the agony in his eyes nearly drove you to your knees. “Shut the fuck up!”

Charles ran his hands through his hair and tugged at the stands until he screamed to the heavens above. Birds erupted from the treelines and took flight at the piercing sound but Pierre just shook his head sadly.

He didn’t want to have hope. He didn’t want to be shattered by it again.

“She’s not Jules, Charles,” Pierre said, flinching when his friend glared at him. “Just go visit her, if anyone can bring her back it’s you.”

Charles turned his back and started to walk away without a goodbye and you took a step without realising it, then another. The invisible anchor that had kept you trapped at the crash site untethered from your feet and you were able to follow Charles.

He paused beneath the starting line and looked up at the lights you had laid beneath. Gone were the stars that you could wish upon, now only dark grey clouds remained.

“If anyone up there is listening, I could really do with a miracle, or a sign, or anything. Just something. Please.” His voice broke and he wiped his eyes on his sleeve before sniffing and departing the grid.

Click here for part two.

#charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc imagine #formula one fanfiction #f1 imagine #f1 rpf #driver!reader

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