#sigh. end of an era for real
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zorrxchicle · 2 years ago
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cariños, guess who just watched all of Bound!!!
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sttoru · 9 months ago
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·.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. you’ve been one of sukuna’s many concubines for quite a while now. yet, you still cannot get rid of the jealousy in your system whenever he interacts with the other women in his harem.
wc. idk around 1 to 2k
tags. true form!sukuna x concubine!female reader. angst (hurt to comfort), fluff, suggestive at the end. heian era. you call sukuna ‘my lord’. reader gets called ‘brat, little girl’. size difference. no part2, don’t ask i beg. not beta read.
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“get back here, brat,” sukuna raises his voice as he follows you. he isn’t one to care about others’ emotional outbursts, yet here he is, chasing you after you’ve poured out your heart to him.
you don’t know why you’re this upset. you do know, however, that it’s childish of you to walk away mid dinner. you should’ve just stayed seated and refuse to let the thoughts consume you.
now you’re speed walking down the hallways of the estate—your legs carrying you as fast as they can without actually making a run for it. your mind keeps replaying the ‘unsettling’ scene that caused you to flee.
you remember it vividly. the sound of sukuna’s low, amused chuckle. how intrigued it was because of something another concubine told him—how he stopped chewing to say something back to her. which he rarely does.
hell, you’ve never seen him laugh around his other concubines.
“i do not wish to talk to you right now, my lord,” you reply, voice raised so the distance wouldn’t make it a hassle for the king of curses to hear you. you know that feisty attitude of yours entertains sukuna to no end.
he raises an eyebrow once he’s heard your voice; how it’s dripping with envy and hurt. you’ve never reacted like that before—at least not in his presence. it made him want to figure out why and how.
though, he can easily guess the reasoning behind your sudden defiance.
“oh, that so?” sukuna hums. he’s lenient with you this time around. he could catch up to you in under a split second, but he decides to give you that sense of accomplishment first before completely destroying it. he walks after you slowly, your fast steps being the same tempo as his slow pace.
you don’t answer. you’re stubborn. you have no right to feel jealous. you are a fairly new concubine—only a couple months ago did you join sukuna’s harem. yet, the time spent with him was precious.
he treats you differently. everyone notices that. everyone tells you the same. you know he does by the way he lets you off the hook with most stuff you say and do.
you don’t know what you did to gain his favouritsm, but it’s addicting. his attention is addictive. real addictive.
you had sworn not to develop any unneccessary feelings for that ruthless sorcerer. but, with the way sukuna treated you so gently behind closed doors, it was impossible not to.
you eventually reach the doors to your chambers. you slide them open and wish to close them behind you, only for a big hand to halt those movements. you freeze in place and refuse to look up at the owner of that said hand.
“look up,” sukuna demands. his voice causes goosebumps to appear on your arms, but you still don't budge. he clicks his tongue. that’s your first warning. two more and your punishment will be carried out, “we can do this the hard way too if you want.”
you turn your head, your fingers curling around the material of your kimono. you really should not feel this way about a little interaction between sukuna and his other concubine. that is none of your concern. what he does with those other women is none of your concern.
and yet. . .
“i don't want to,” you retort. sukuna walks into your room with a sigh. each step he takes forwards, you take backwards. your back finally bumps against the wall next to your bed.
sukuna towers over you, his tall and big frame making you feel vulnerable. especially with the way those red eyes of his are staring down at you. he crosses all four of his arms before speaking.
“tell me what’s running through that head of yours,” sukuna inquires sternly. he isn’t playing around anymore, you can tell. you glance the other way—knowing that he will laugh at you the moment you tell him why you’re upset.
you have a feeling he knows the reason behind your tantrum anyway.
“it’s nothing of importance, my lord,” you shake your head and relax your tense shoulders to make you seem less upset. your words have some truth in them—you don’t think your feelings of envy hold any value to him.
sukuna sighs again. he’s trying his best not to be annoyed at you. you’re his favorite and he wishes not to sadden you any further. he steps forwards, one hand moving to cup the side of your face.
his rough fingers play with a string of your hair, “i’m not stupid, little girl. i don’t like it when my woman is in distress.”
your heart skips a beat. this is what confuses you—how he can go from stern to gentle and vice versa. it’s surprisingly unexpected, which makes you long for more. even if his behaviour is confusing.
you look up at sukuna. your eyes meet for the first time in a good couple minutes. the corner of sukuna’s lips curls up into a satisfied smirk. that’s one step closer to getting you to open up.
“now,” the king of curses lowers his head to your eye level, the proximity all the more nerve wracking. he holds your jaw super tightly out of the blue. it makes you whimper.
“spit it out.”
there it is. the duality of the man strikes once more. you swallow the spit that’s been building up in your mouth. you bite your bottom lip lightly, trying to gather and form the right words to explain yourself.
sukuna wouldn’t understand. he’s a cold-hearted man who doesn’t care about such ‘trivial’ matters. he’ll just call you stupid, pathetic or whatever other derogatory term.
you stop your thoughts for a moment.
“it’s really just a stupid thing,” you mutter. your fingers curl around sukuna’s wrist—the one hand he’s using to firmly hold your jaw. you take a deep breath in, “i did not like it when you, errr. . . when that woman talked to you at the dinner table.”
your voice is clearly dripping with jealousy. pure, pure jealousy. and for what? because he talked to his other concubine. you feel stupid. you thought you discarded your personal feelings for the sorcerer before you the moment you turned into one of his many women.
“that woman?” sukuna tilts his head, feigning ignorance. that little grin on his face tells you enough. he’s playing with you like some form of entertainment. well, technically you are.
he wants you to be specific. he’s forcing you to be by acting like he doesn’t know what you’re talking about.
in all honesty, sukuna’s already forgotten what that woman had said to him. it wasn’t and still isn’t worth remembering. all he can recall is your adorable facial expression when you saw him interact like that with his other concubine.
that little frown on your face was priceless. it makes him want to keep teasing you.
“you know who i am talking about, my lord,” you huff, trying to look away, but get stopped by sukuna readjusting his grip on your jaw. he firmly yet gently taps your cheek once and you know what it means.
“attitude,” sukuna warns with a quick hiss. he can let you say whatever you want to him, but you also have some limits regarding which tone you use with him. you apologise quietly under your breath.
the king of curses nods in satisfaction before releasing the grip on your jaw. his large hand trails down to your neck, thumb rubbing up and down your throat, “so, my little girl is mad at me because i talked to another concubine of mine, huh?”
you nod mindlessly. sukuna can easily get you to comply with him—to obey his every word, simply with his actions. the terms of endearment he uses are the cherry on top. they slip off his tongue so easily with you.
“tsk tsk,” sukuna shakes his head. his hand is now on the back of your head, fingers tangled into your hair. he’s staring down at you with a smug expression. he knows he’s got you wrapped around his finger, “how childish of you.”
you knew that would be one of the things he’d say to you. what you didn’t expect is for him to go for a kiss right after. his lips land on yours firmly, and to no surprise, you instantly return the gesture.
your arms wrap around his neck—your chest pressing against his. sukuna wastes no time in picking you up and letting your legs encircle his waist. he’s not pulling away for air to breathe and you don’t either.
“you’re going to listen to me, yeah?” sukuna murmurs between passionate kisses. he’s holding onto you tightly with two arms, his free hands roaming over your body whilst he pins you against the wall.
when you whimper out a weak, high-pitched ‘yes, my lord’, he smirks against your mouth before turning to kiss your neck. he slightly bites the skin to make sure you’re paying attention to him.
“i don’t remember what that woman said,” sukuna continues, nearly out of breath because of the kisses he’s leaving all over you. he easily grabs both your wrists and pins them above your head on the wall, “i was too busy lookin’ at a much prettier concubine of mine.”
he pulls back a little so he can look you in the eyes. you’re panting and embarrassed by what he just said. one of his hands finds your face again, tracing the shape of your mouth.
“my favourite,” sukuna whispers whilst licking his lips. you can see it in his eyes: he’s silently planning out how he’s going to remind you of your place. your place as his favorite concubine.
he dips his head back down, aiming for the valley between your breasts. he closes his eyes before sucking on the surrounding flesh;
“guess i’ll be nice for once ‘nd show you just what it means to be my favorite so that you’ll never dare forget it again.”
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gladiatorcunt · 7 months ago
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oooh art would be lowkey freaky. i feel like he’s also a super munch. he’ll let you sit on his face for hours!!
cw: 18+ mdni, cunnilingus, ambiguous era, afab reader, slight brat!reader, teasing, like two spanks (+ one instance of ass play + very slight anal fingering)
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Art devours you like no one else ever could, burying his tongue into your pussy for hours on end. If he could, he’d do it 24/7. He does it enough as it is away. As a wake up call, a way to say goodnight, in the shower, on your period, from behind while you’re cooking, in a pool chair, you get the gist. If you asked what he favorite sexual act to do with you was, there’s not a single doubt in your mind that it would be slurping up your pussy.
You’ve never sat on his face before though, too scared to break his neck after reading a story on your phone about that happening to someone else. It’d be a real mood killer to come down from you high to see your boyfriend dead to the world, literally. You didn’t talk about it again after the initial awkward discussion that ended with you dismissing it. But he just looks so hot in the early morning sun, a rare sleepy day in where you actually get to marvel at what Art looks like when he’s relaxed.
You bite your lip and shake him gently, trying not to shy away and curl up into a ball when he eventually groans and rubs his eyes open.
“Morning, baby.” He grunts in his husky morning voice.
He immediately puckers his lips for a kiss that you provide with less casual confidence than usual. His brow furrows, and he caresses the inside of your wrist with his thumb.
“What’s up? Are you hungry?” He asks you, thinking that you’re needing him to run and get you coffee or something.
You say no and play with your hands, the ache you’ve been feeling between your thighs only grows the more you look into his eyes.
“I just…. I need you.” You whisper.
Art squints his eyes, not sure what you mean. Then he recalls how he usually wakes you up in the morning, “Oh. You need me, huh?”
You nod and spread your legs, giving a view of your bare pussy. You took your underwear off earlier when the feeling got to be too much.
“Can you say it for me, angel? Tell me what you need and i’ll give it you.” He grins, teasing you. “If you woke me up, you must need whatever it is really bad.”
You roll your eyes and straddle him, sighing in bliss when he latches onto your hips. You’d put up more of a fight if you weren’t so horny, but you’ll let Art have his fun this time.
“I need you to eat me out.” You hold back the ‘obviously’ that you want to tack onto the end of your sentence.
Art’s grin widens and he makes you rock back and forth on his clothed bulge. He waist until you’re juices are wetting the fabric of his underwear before he pats your thigh, telling you to get off. You don’t budge and allow him to get into the typical position. Instead you lift your hips and shuffle up the bed until you’re hovering over his face.
“I want you to eat me out like this.”
Art’s grin falters as his eyes widen in shock for a second, you must really be pent up if you’re being this bold. He’s not complaining, he’d been waiting patiently for you to get comfortable enough to use him like a chair. You’re enough of a brat to change your mind if he acts too smug about getting what he wants even if you want it too though, so he tones it down.
“Get to it then, angel.” He smirks, his words trailing off into a satisfied sigh. “Give me a taste of this pretty pussy, don’t hold back.”
He flattens his tongue expectantly and leans his head back against the pillows.
Before you can even hesitate, Art snakes his arms under your legs and yanks your body down, making you drop your weight on him. You yelp but he doesn’t let you squirm away from his mouth. The sensation of his tongue lying still beneath you feels strange for a second, but a slap to your ass snaps you out of it enough to start moving your hips.
You shout and grab onto the headboard, getting yourself off on your boyfriend’s face. You play with one of your tits as you start to bounce on him, craving more of his tongue.
You reach down and tug on his hair, suddenly feeling too shy to make eye contact. He hasn’t looked away from you this entire time, and your cheeks warm in embarrassment at the thought of how messy you already look.
He winks at you, not moving at all and letting you take your fill. Well that’s not what you want anymore, so you tug his hair harder and beg.
“Please, baby, just tongue fuck me already. Don’t you want to? ‘m getting tired…” You whine, pouting down at him.
You stop your hips when you don’t get an answer. Art’s eyes crinkle in delight at your predicament, but he gives in to you. He always does, you just don’t like when he puts you on the spot and makes you wait like this. Secretly you kinda enjoy how he acts in bed, but you like putting up a fight way more.
Art curls his tongue around your clit and you throw your head back. He gives the throbbing bud a few customary sucks and then he jabs his tongue into your wet hole. You moan and grab onto his hair, bouncing on him in time with his tongue’s short thrusts. You roll your hips down against the slick appendage and cry out when it hits the right spot, grasping onto the headboard for dear life.
“Oh my god, feels so good! Wanted you in my pussy, need you there, sucking me dry-what the fuck, yes!” You squeal, firmly keeping his face nuzzled into your pussy and your thighs around his head.
His hands are playing with your ass while he eats you out. You’re mid bounce when you feel one of his thumbs prod at your ass hole, and the barest hint of having two of your wholes filled gets you moving faster on him. He spread your cheeks wider and kneads the flesh, jiggling them in his hands.
Art responds in kind and slides his tongue around whatever parts of your juicy pussy he can, scooping up your juices and guzzling them down as he stabs his tongue through your sopping folds.
You’d normally pull him back by his hair when you got close, not wanting to get him too dirty with your cum. But now you’re tightening your thighs over his ears and and stuffing his nose into your trimmed pubic hair, bouncing like your life depends on it.
Art spanks you again when your walls spasm around his tongue thirty seconds later. He gulps your orgasm down with love in his eyes and a heartbeat in his dick. He coos at your soft sniffles and massages your trembling thighs when you get up and collapse beside him.
“Thanks for breakfast, angel, I’d rate it 5 stars”. He laughs, half jokingly and half seriously.
“Whatever, perv.” You weakly smack him on the chest and groan, trying to keep your soul in your body. “Go get coffee… please.”
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ozzgin · 6 months ago
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I'm the anon who asked if your requests are open and i got busy assignments + presentations that i almost forgot about the request but now i remembered and it's based on my dream i saw that night..
How about a vampire who lost his relic (presumably a ring) and reader happens find it and tries it on, now the vampire is all panicking because guess what? That was a betrothal relic and it has binded the vampire's soul with the one of reader. They can't pull it out/take it of.. oh well, now they are stuck and obviously the vampire hates the idea of being stuck with a pesky human but hey they are kinda stupid..? How tf they tripped on thin air? Or how they are still alive even after being food poisoned 5 times a month? Vampire is now babysitter for his human *sighs * what has he gotten himself in..
(Please add yandere elements later on, my brain stoopid but i want a hot Victorian era vampire being obsessed with me ^^ muah!)
(I'm sorry this is so lengthy TT)
Yandere! Vampire x Reader
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Featuring a ridiculously lucky Reader who constantly manages to escape a Vampire's assassination attempts. Did someone order a supernatural edition of enemies to lovers?
Content: gender neutral reader, obsessive behavior, mentions of stalking, romcom
[Monster masterlist] [Original works masterlist]
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"Are you alright, (Y/N)?" your friends gasp in unison, eyes fixated on the fallen ceramic pot that scarcely missed you, now laying shattered at your feet. You laugh reassuringly and wave your hand in dismissal. "It's the fifth time it happens today. Maybe there's a storm coming?"
From within the shadows, menacing eyes glowing red follow your movements. "Damn it!" The mysterious man curses under his breath. He stares enviously at the bulky ring on your finger. The ring bearing his Family signet, where part of his very soul resides. It has stayed with him for centuries, and somehow, to his utmost shame, he lost it. By the time he rushed back to retrieve it, you were carelessly sliding it down your finger. He wanted to strangle the life out of you right then and there, but he felt it: the immediate surge of contractual power, dominating his will and holding him back from breaking your bones. "It's a little tacky, isn't it?" your friend remarked. You nodded in agreement and tried to remove it, but the metal band tightened around your skin, painfully constricting your digit. It was stuck. It was too late.
Now he has to rely on cheap trickeries like this one. Sure, he may not be able to directly plunge his fangs into your neck, but the bonding curse does not shield you from "accidents", you see. It would be a real shame if that flower pot was to land straight into your head, ending you instantly and thus breaking the connection with him. Except you simply refuse to die. A mystery, a paradox, one that enrages him to no end. It's almost as if the ring is bringing you fortune at the cost of his misery.
"Have you had any luck removing that ugly thing?" the person standing next to you mentions. The vampire lord grits his teeth at the blasphemous words. This is what's become of him: a deceitful buffoon, having to sit and listen to his inheritance being mocked relentlessly. He holds back the urge of shouting that thousands have bled to death in order to forge that magnificence. "Not at all", you respond idly. "I tried taking it to a jeweler, and she said she could try to cut it, but she ended up having a heart attack right in the middle of it. She didn't even look that old, maybe it runs in her family?"
Unbelievable. The thought of reclaiming his relic haunts every second of his day, to the point he's become your shadow. Stalking your every move, your every breath, observing his prey and waiting for an opportunity to strike. He can already picture that pathetic face of yours, twisting in pain, begging for-...huh. Well, look at that, you're reading one of his favorite books. Perhaps you do have a little taste, after all. It won't save you from your terrible fate, but he might skip the prolonged torture.
There's plenty of quotes out there about knowing your enemy in order to guarantee your victory, though one might wonder where the limit of such knowledge resides. Or what counts as useful to begin with. The vampire lord is presently wondering about this very aspect, as he mouths your coffee order from a distance. Less sugar, huh? You did mention losing your sweet tooth. He shakes his head indignantly. Absolutely not! The throb of his heart is fueled by raw hatred and nothing else. One of days he will savour your demise.
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Your ridiculous luck might just end today. You've taken a shortcut on your way back home, and didn't expect a shady, burly man to block your exit. A perverted grin stains his face as he approaches you, twiddling with his pocket knife. "Alone at this hour?" You frown and try to find a way out, but the man suddenly begins to heave and convulse before your eyes, grasping at his chest as the skin shrivels and dries. He collapses at your feet, body wilted as if it's been emptied of its vitality. The Vampire Lord clicks his tongue.
To think he'd rush to rescue his sworn enemy, a pitiful mortal like you. He didn't even get the chance to consider the aftermath. You stare at the stranger, confused but observant. Pale skin, crimson eyes, unnaturally sharp canines...and the fact he just drained a living being into a bloodless corpse: everything hints to one possibility. "Are you by any chance a vampire?" you find yourself mumbling. "You must've graduated from Harvard with those deduction skills", he responds sarcastically.
Everything else unfolds in a haze. Wasn't he planning to kill you and retrieve his ring? When the hell did he offer to walk you home to avoid more creeps? Why is he twirling his hair sheepishly whenever you praise his demonic powers? Oh, but it gets worse: why did he suddenly feel the urge to kiss you before returning to his cursed lair? Why did he accept your invitation to spend the night at your place instead? One moment ago, he was doing his best to curse you off this Earth. Now he's tugging stray strands of hair away from your blushing, whining face, asking you if it hurts. Damned human.
"How did you know I like this? Have you been stalking me?" you joke, nudging your undead boyfriend and setting the gift aside. "More or less", he confesses with a yawn. He recalls all that time spent dutifully spying on your oblivious self. "You know, a human like you shouldn't be able to dodge death like that." He turns to you and scans your features. Then, abruptly embarrassed, he ruffles your hair to block you from noticing his blush. "I suppose my failure was the better outcome. It's not too bad, having you around."
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luveline · 6 months ago
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Maybe colt comforting reader when things for her film aren’t going right 🫶🏽🫶🏽
Colt comes to your rescue (clumsily) when you have a hard day. fem!reader, 1k words
Very minor plot spoilers for The Fall Guy (2024) if any
“I think he’s mad at you.” 
You pause where you’d been scrubbing your eyes with your hands, though you don’t look at him. Colt Seavers seems to follow you everywhere you go, and consequently plays witness to your many breakdowns. “Thanks, Colt. That’s astute.” 
“Are you mad at me? Why are you mad at me? It’s been ten seconds,” he complains. He has a unique talent for sounding flirty and needy at once. 
“No, Colt. I’m tired, it’s been a long day.” 
Colt is grinning when you meet his eyes. He has blood, fake or real undetermined, drying in the scruff of his facial hair. You gesture to yourself in a slow circle in the approximate area, to which Colt smiles again. 
“You look perfect,” he says confidently. 
“You have blood in your beard.” 
“Oh, right.” 
You sigh heavily, taking the few paces back to a stack of safety mattresses for a quick break. You’ll get up and help whoever needs helping as soon as you can feel your toes. Colt stays where he is, squinting against the sun, strands of blonde ends kissing his tan forehead. The summer shoots are good for him, he always looks so beachy. You’re exhausted all the time. 
As he notices. “Are you getting enough sleep?” he asks. 
“Yeah.” 
“‘Cos I was sleeping badly and then I got this new mattress that has four hybrid layers, there’s a foam layer, and then there’s titanium springs,” —he sees your distant expression and his own flickers— “anyways, you could try it if you want. Test it out with me. Or– Not with me. With me if you want. We’d have fun. But not with me if you don’t want to.” 
You’d laugh if you had the energy. “Do you wanna sit down?” you ask. 
“God, yes, please.” 
He has another talent for being insanely handsome no matter the day. You look like you’ve been badly rewarmed before serving, where he looks like he rolled out of bed with a smile. He’s smiling at you now, the foolish kind that’ll fluster you if you let him do it for too long. “Stop,” you say quietly. 
“You’re doing amazing.” 
“Thank you. You’re the only person who thinks so, unfortunately.” 
You smile at him weakly. Worried you look pathetic, you turn your face to your lap and clasp your fingers together. 
“That’s not true. Mayview is old-fashioned, that’s all, he was around when they were still killing horses on TV.” 
You grimace. “Yikes.”
“But it’s the modern era. He doesn’t get to make you feel like shit, or I’ll make him feel like shit.” He pretends to charge a sucker punch. 
You lean forward a touch, not quite hugging your knees but tempted to fold in on yourself nonetheless, the heat of the sun a memory on your neck as the evening begins and cloud cover floods in. 
The safety mattresses beneath you squeak and shush against each other. Your weight and Colt’s slides together slowly. He might be pushing himself a little with his boot, but you pretend not to notice as his hand comes to rest between your shoulders. 
“I just can’t do anything right,” you mumble. 
As soon as you’ve said it you’re hoping he can’t hear you, but he does. He might have injured pretty much anything that can be fractured, sprained, or just plain broken, but he has stellar hearing. “You do everything right. You do!” he says, quietly and passionately at once, “They don’t realise it, but you’re the glue keeping this whole thing together.” 
“What are you?” you ask, bemused.
His hand is warm on your shoulder, unafraid where he hesitates to answer, “I don’t know. The test dummy? The guy who gets set on fire a lot?” 
“How is that?” 
“Warm,” he says, beaming, his face so unexpectedly close that you can see the glucose shining in the blood on his cheek. Fake blood. “You wanna try it? I’m sure I could convince the guys.” 
“No, I’m okay.” 
His voice turns silky. “Good, I wasn’t gonna let you anyway.” 
“Let me?” 
“You could get hurt.”
You give in, melted maybe by his warm tones, or exhausted by a day of playing mom for a director who can barely tell his left from his right. Your face presses to his shoulder and your spine sags under his hand, prompting Colt to pull you flush against his side. He always waits for your signals for stuff like this, no matter how desperate he might confess to being. “Can you make them all leave me alone?” you mumble into his jacket, the fabric rough against your nose. 
“Obviously I can, but… We could run away.” 
“Where would we go?” 
“I don’t know. Somewhere sunny. You can rub sunblock on my back, I can hold the umbrella over your head while you read.” 
“They have stands for that sort of stuff. Or you can shove it in the sand, you know.”
“I wanna do something nice for you,” he interrupts, the sound of a smile in his voice as he gives you a friendly jostle. “That’s the point.” 
“You’re plenty nice, Colt.” 
And he is. He saw you were upset and he came jogging upto you valiantly, and your side-armed cuddle is really pushing the pep back into your life. You take a few deep breaths under the weight of his arm before turning to him, brave, ready to go back to work if it means he’s gonna drive you home tonight. “Thank you for caring.” You kiss his cheek, careful of the fake blood. “You’re super nice.” 
You miss the heat of him the second you stand, but there really is work to do. 
“I’m super nice?” he calls. “How nice is super? Nice enough to get another one of those, or what? Are they by the metre?” 
You bite back a smile. 
���Hello? Can you hear me?” He must catch someone’s eye. “She can’t hear me. It’s cool. We like each other.” 
Nobody saves face quite like Colt. 
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theorphicangel · 3 months ago
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𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐭 | 𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
wc: 1.8k
tags: heian era!sukuna, true form! sukuna, reader is a villager and wears a kimono, gn!reader, mentions of cannibalism (brief), eventual fluff, strangers to lovers??, threat of death, reader has a sense of humor, reader risks life for a peach (real),
synopsis: stumbling in a random field, the gods have granted you the luxury of discovering a rare peach tree and it's all yours for the takings. at least that's what you're mistaken to think before you're confronted by the king of curses himself. coming close to death, you're forbidden to ever return.
it's just a shame you're incapable of listening to rules.
part 2 | part 3 | bonus scene coming soon!
Part one: A commandment.
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The sweltering heat was getting to you.
Your kimono sticks to your skin causing nothing but discomfort as you continue to aimlessly wander in the field. At your ankles, tall blades of grass tickle at your skin with every step. You were wasting time as per usual; slacking off from your work with the excuse that you needed some fresh air. 
Originally, you planned to disappear for five minutes. But five minutes soon turned into ten and then twenty and before you knew it two hours had passed when you found yourself standing in a random field on the outer edge of your village. 
What you wanted to derive from your walk was discovering a new species of flowers. Specifically for Miko, a little girl in your village. She wasn’t much older than five years but you’ve recently been taking her under your wing whilst her parents carry out work within the village. 
Taking a wrong turn on your path you ended up wandering onto an open field where an array of flowers greeted you. Unfortunately, the sea of dandelions, daisies and bluebells were not new to your eyes. Letting out a sigh of disappointment you made to turn back, returning empty handed before your eyes landed on something in the distance.
A peach tree.
Small and lone, it was almost easy to miss to the naked eye – merely mistaking it to be a regular tree as�� the shades of  greenery seamlessly blend in together. But shades of scarlet orange seemed to catch your attention and with curiosity filling you up by the second, an impulse drew you closer towards your target. 
The rays of the sun beamed happily at you as you make your way, the material of your attire once again proving unfit for the current summer weather. Fortunately, by the time you reached the tree the heavy leaves and cool grass provided respite from the severe wave of heat.
Observing the tree, it leans over you with a slight slant where a plethora of ripe peaches hang from the branches. They vary in sizes and colors: some a little more scarlet than others, some greater in size and some naturally misshapen but nonetheless it has your mouth watering at the mere sight.
Peaches were considered to be a luxury within your village where only those who were wealthy could afford them through trading from other nearby villages and towns. No one in your hometown had the time nor the money to consider growing peaches naturally, the seeds often hard to obtain.
But now this luxury was a mere arm stretch away. They hang loosely above your head, cruelly taunting you. 
It wouldn’t hurt to take one, would it? Looking around, you see no one around for miles. Just a vast space of greenery and mother nature as your witness. Based on your observation you conclude that the tree doesn’t necessarily belong to anyone, it stands alone and unattended. The peaches seemed to be more than ready for harvest. If someone did own the tree then surely the peaches would have been picked by now. 
A plump peach sits perfectly in your eyesight – ripe and juicy and scarlet orange. It practically tempts you to reach out and take it. After walking for over an hour, it’s no surprise that your hunger has taken the best of you and a mere rumble from your stomach confirms it all. 
Still hesitant, your fingertips reach out. Your movements are slow and cautious in fear that someone would catch you in the act. In a blink, the peach is plucked from the branch with a small green leaf attached to the stem. 
With the ripe fruit finally in your palm, all fear and hesitation leaves your body as swift as a breeze. As soon as your lips wrap around the succulent a sweet yet tangy flavor hits your tongue, addictive from the very first bite.
 It’s rare to find peaches within the village. A true luxury for those who can afford it when it’s in season. The last time you recall indulging in this treat was during your childhood yet it was harvested too early, made clear by the  bitter sour taste which  eventually threw you off the summer fruit ever since.
But this was pure nectar. Sweet and tender, you can’t help but let the juices run down the sides of your mouth. With sudden hunger,  you devour the fruit in mere minutes leaving nothing but the stone behind. You wipe your mouth diligently, getting rid of all traces of evidence. 
But you weren’t satisfied.
A few branches upwards, you spot a peach of a similar size. The perfect shade of orange and red combined. Just a mere glance was enough to get your mouth watering again, your thirst unquenched. 
Reaching, you resort to standing on your tippy toes to pull the peach away from its native home. With confidence, you bite down as soon as you obtain your treasure where the identical taste of pure nectar makes its home on your tastebuds once again.
Almost half finished, you make a mental note to return to this very tree and bring a basket, perhaps you could take some for the whole—
“Are you aware that you are currently trespassing on my grounds?”
A voice came out of nowhere. Rough and low and obtaining a certain sharpness in tone that  your entire body freezes. Like a crashing wave, your blood turns cold. The grip on your peach now loosened causing the summer fruit to fall to the grass with a light thud.
Following, you drop to your knees and bow your head.
You don’t have to see the figure to know who exactly the voice belongs to. His aura is enough.
Menacing and murderous it makes your heart stop momentarily, your lungs stop providing you oxygen and all heat leaves your body, leaving your blood to run cold. Your heartbeat thumps so loudly in your ear that you don’t even hear the words which leave your lips.
“My Lord.”
You had never personally come across the king of curses in your lifetime but the rumors and stories spread within the village were enough to keep you away from the estate. Stories of murder, violence and even cannibalism had reached your ears. No one in the village dared to step foot near the estate unless absolutely necessary. For example, trade or to make an offering.
“I asked you a question. I advise you to not make me repeat myself.”
“Y-yes my Lord.” You cringed heavily at your stutter, unable to get your throat to clear up from the sudden fright of his presence. “I made a mistake, my Lord, I was not aware I was trespassing.”
“Well, you are aware now.”
“Yes.” your voice shook. “And you have my deepest and most sincere apologies. It won’t happen again.” You swallow thickly, letting a pause carry through the sweltering summer heat. “Please spare me my life, your Lord.”
“What was that?”
“Spare me my life, your Lord, I beg of you.”
He was exactly what the rumors described. A tall, massive figure towering over you. Tinted pink hair sticks to his forehead, a cause of the summer heat. There’s nothing but pure muscle gazing at you through the black drape loosely thrown over his shoulders. Black tattoos decorate his body, designed to perfect symmetry. It would be impossible to ignore the four arms which crossed over his broad chest or the four eyes which peer down at you in pure disgust.  He was on a different level to you, completely different. 
He was a monster.
“I didn’t give you permission to look at me.”
You duck your head with inexplicable speed.
Sweat drips down your nose, trailing to the top of your lips. Your hands are glued to the soil and blades of grass tickle at your nostrils. Your fingertips dig into the soil searching for some sort of security. Traces of brown mud enter your fingernails as you tense, waiting for the first moment of pain. 
He was going to kill you. 
He was going to kill you all because you took the wrong path. 
You were going to die because of your mindless wandering and lack of awareness that you were heading in the direction of Lord Sukuna’s estate. You were going to die because you decided to slack off from your work and not return when needed.  You were going to die all because you were curious about a peach tree and grew greedy. You should’ve been satisfied after eating your first yet instead you stayed long enough to be sentenced to death.
You were going to die and it was all your fault. Bile rises up your throat at the thought, goosebumps running across your arms. You squeeze your eyes shut as silence passes often interrupted by the rustle of greenery surrounding you.
A minute soon passes and then another before you gulp heavily. 
Was he going to kill you or not?  
You beg for him to get it over and done with, hoping for your death to be quick and painless. You offer up a silent prayer for your family. Thankfully he didn’t ask you to state your family meaning that they would be safe. 
As long as the king of curses  didn’t hurt them or anyone in the village, you’d be glad to die.
Still crouched over, you await the moment. 
But it never comes. 
Instead, what happens yet seems completely out of the ordinary.
“You may rise.”
What?
Did you hear correctly? No, no, no– you must have misheard. You must have.
“I won’t repeat myself.” Sukuna announces gruffly. 
Holy shit.
Shaking, you manage to make it to your feet maintaining your balance. The front of your kimono is stained with brown dirt but that worry is barely at the forefront of your mind. Instead, you wonder why on earth you weren’t killed.
 No words are able to leave your lips, your throat clogged up. Sukuna merely glances at you with disinterest, his stance unchanged. 
Finally, after a minute, your lips seem able to work and you get your words out.
“Aren’t you going to kill me?”
He glances at you as if he had forgotten you were standing right there in front of him. That’s how insignificant you were.
“I don’t waste my energy on pathetic little nuisances like you.” His voice is loud and thick with dislike for you. His voice drops a few octaves before announcing a threat. 
“If I find you on my estate once again without my permission I won’t hesitate to take the life you so rightfully begged to keep, understood?”
A breath hitches in your throat. 
“I understand, my Lord, thank you.” You bow your head once more to show the utmost respect.
A silence creeps in and suddenly all of nature disappears. A witness to your trial with near death, the leaves on the peach tree fail to rustle and the once chirping birds submit to an eerie silence. Goosebumps rise over your skin once more, your body still cold from Sukuna’s deadly aura. The heat you were once complaining of is now a distant memory.
“I’ll give you ten seconds to disperse off my property. Ten–”
You’ve never taken off faster in your entire life.
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reblogs and comments are much appreciated. thank you for reading!!
lmk if you would like to be tagged for part 2!!
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raspberrybesitos · 11 months ago
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mistletoe kisses | joel miller x f!reader
Main masterlist
Rating: M - 18+ MDNI
Word count: ~2.6k
Summary: You decorate the Christmas tree with some help from Joel and Ellie.
Warnings: established relationship, post-outbreak, Jackson era, canon divergent bc nothing bad ever happens to them ever 😁, sickening fluff, pet names (honey, darlin’, baby, babydoll, etc), allusions to smut, no mention of hair type/skin color/body type, NO USE OF Y/N.
A/N: surprise!!! i know i said this would be up on the 22nd, but i’ve got something else that will be up on saturday 🤭 and i just couldn’t stop thinking about giving this man a happy ending, including healing and starting new traditions with his family 😔 i wish joel was real 💔 anyway, i hope y’all enjoy! not beta’d, all mistakes are my own. 🏃‍♀️
Divider by @/saradika
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Grumbling, he treks behind you, snow crunching beneath his work boots as he cautiously lugs the saw in his hands.
You’re rambling about finding the perfect tree in front of him, Ellie asking a million questions about the tradition.
He hadn’t expected, intended, to find a partner in Jackson. That is until he saw you, lugging a heavy crate of harvested crops across the town, your wagon having been broken. Tommy had told him about you, how you were single.
“She’s sweet as pie, brother. She might be good for you. Real pretty too.” Joel recalls the conversation he had with Tommy before he stormed off to the barn.
His Southern hospitality lay dormant until he saw you struggling. The urge to help creeped up on him. His typical quite observant demeanor tossed out the window as he approached you.
“Need some help?” He asks.
You wipe your brow, huffing before laying your eyes on the broad, handsomely rugged man in front of you - it’s Tommy’s brother. His name escaping you briefly.
You beam. “Oh. Sure. Thank you…” you trail off, slightly off guard by his kind gesture. His large gloved hand extends out towards you.
“Joel,” he finishes your sentence. “Thank you, Joel,” your hand shaking his, giving him your name. It rolls off his tongue with a certain sweetness, sending a flurry of butterflies to swirl in your belly. You knew of him, but knew he was also not a man of many words. You had yet to make acquaintances with him and who you assume is his daughter.
“You’re Tommy’s brother right?” You curiously ask, attempting to make small talk as Joel grunts while picking up the crate.
“Yes ma’am.”
Smiling at his Southern drawl, you run to help him carry one side of the heavy crate, feeling bad letting him do all the work.
“Uh uh, what do you think you’re doin’?” He asks, brow raised as you both stop in your tracks. “Helping you,” you state. He chuckles, shaking his head as he begins to walk.
“I asked if you needed help, darlin’. ‘Sides, what kinda man would I be letting a pretty girl like you carry all this shit by herself? My momma would have me by the head, ‘s for damn sure.”
You open your mouth to detest the notion that women need any assistance from men, but he stops you before you can.
“‘N I know ya don’t need any help from any man. You women are tough as shit, met a lota you over the years. Jus’ wanna help, ‘s all.” He kindly explains. You don’t understand why he wants to help, why he’s approached you specifically.
You’re aware that he’s typically very reserved, not leaving his house if he doesn’t have to. You’ve heard things about his past, and Tommy having confided in you at times, but the world has gone to shit. Who are you to judge? Everyone’s done some horrible stuff to stay alive.
He’s also painfully handsome. Opting to not object to his help and company, you sigh.
“Well, at least let me take some of the vegetables,” you protest, grabbing bunches of carrots. He chuckles quietly.
“Sure thing, darlin’,” he mutters. The nickname catching you both by surprise as a sort of tension falls over you two.
Flashing him a grateful toothy grin, you gather the vegetables in your arms. He gives you a small smirk in return.
“So how are you liking Jackson? I don’t see you ‘round much,” you ask as you begin the trek to the dining hall.
“‘S good. Big change, learnin’ the ropes of patrol. Makin’ sure Ellie’s settlin’ in,” he states. “And Ellie’s…”
“My family,” he says firmly. You nod, internally assuming she’s not his biological daughter.
“Well, I hope you both settle in nicely.” He feels his heart soften at your kindness.
He thought you’d have shied away from him, that you’d have listened to what people are saying about him around town.
But you didn’t. You took to him kindly, warmly.
He’ll be damned if he told Tommy he was right about you, He’d never hear the end of it… but shit, was he right. You were so kind and open-minded, and so beautiful.
The both of you making small talk as you trek to the dining hall, Joel lugging the crate into the kitchen for prep as you follow behind. He places the crate on the floor with a grunt. You drop the carrots in the box afterwards.
Rising to his feet, he sighs as he wipes his hands on his jeans, you copying his actions.
“Thank you again, Joel. I really appreciate it,” you tell him again. “Ain’t no problem, darlin’.”
Silence fills the air, save for the clanging and clattering of utensils in the kitchen.
“Would you… would you like to have a drink sometime? As a, uh, form of repayment for helping me today,” you timidly ask. A small smile breaks out onto Joel’s face.
“You ain’t gotta repay me, darlin’. But I’d love to grab a drink with ya,” he says.
Smiling from ear to ear, you nod happily. “It’s a date,” you say, before slapping a hand over your mouth as your eyes go wide. “I-I’m sorry. It’s not a date, it doesn't have to be. I mean, u-unless you want-,” you nervously ramble before Joel cuts you off.
“‘S a date,” he rasps. A soft smile on both your faces. The rest is history.
He wouldn’t trade that moment for the world, as he’s got you by his side now. He just didn’t expect that drink to lead him to trudging through the woods in the freezing early morning to cut down a tree.
He’d much rather be sleeping right now on his day off, but he can never say no to his girls.
Making your way through the woods, you and Ellie wind through the path while Joel stands and watches. There aren’t many trees, but just enough to scour from.
Not seeing any you like, you continue to walk down the path. “What about this one?” Ellie asks, standing next to a fir no taller than Joel.
Your eyes light up, a sparkly smile illuminating your face.
“It’s perfect. Great find, Ellie!” You yelp, high fiving the girl who’s equally excited.
“Hey, Joel!” Ellie shouts through her hands, her cheeks rosy and nose frosted. He clambers through the trees, saw in hand with his signature scowl. “Find one?”
“Mhmm,” Ellie says while beaming, you nodding in agreement. Joel sighs as he begins to saw down the tree. The trunk’s not very thick, the branches skinny, but still full enough to mimick the times before.
It falls to the snow covered ground, you and Ellie taking a few steps back. Joel stomps over to it, hoisting it up over his shoulder.
“Thank you, honey,” you whisper against his ear before placing a kiss on his patchy beard. His body flushing hot red from heat despite the cold air.
“Sure thing, baby,” he says bashfully, smiling a smile only reserved for you. Lacing his fingers with yours, you walk hand-in-hand back to the house with Ellie rambling ahead of you, vibrating with excitement.
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“Joel, could you move it a little to the left?” You ask, hands clasped together over your lips. Joel grunts, red in the face as he shoves the fir to the left.
“A little more, please?”
Another grunt.
“A liiiitttllleee more.”
With a sigh, he shoves it once more.
“Perfect!” You clap. Joel rises to his full height, groaning as his bones crack and ache. You stride to him, leaning in for a kiss.
He could never stay annoyed at you.
“Thank you, honey,” you mutter with a dopey grin. Joel mirrors your expression, wrapping his hands around your waist and pressing his lips against yours. A saccharine kiss, your fingers curling in his grays.
His heart flutters as you sigh into him, your contentment radiating through your chest and into his soul.
When the fuck did his heart ever flutter?
“You guys gonna do that all fucking day or what?!” Ellie shouts, cutting ribbon and twine for the decorations.
You both startle at the sound of her voice, jumping in Joel’s arms. Joel glares at Ellie as laughter bubbles over your lips.
“Sorry, Ellie,” you call out. “Seriously, thank you, honey,” you tell Joel with a pat on his broad chest.
“No problem, darlin’,” he says softly with a swift kiss to your forehead before releasing you from his grasp. Joel strides into the kitchen to heat up some milk, with you rushing over to Ellie who sits at the dining table with an array of supplies.
You’re so good with Ellie, so patient with her while gently explaining how to string the dried oranges on the twine. She gets the hang of it pretty easily, holding it up and beaming with pride. Your giddiness mirroring hers, praising her as you waltz into the kitchen with Joel.
Placing a chaste kiss to his cheek, you flit around him as you pop some kernels in a hot pan. Transforming them into popcorn to make more garlands, and working in comfortable silence alongside each other.
You dump the popcorn into a bowl, you place a tender kiss on his shoulder before returning to Ellie.
Joel feels warm, and it’s not from the heat of the stove.
He preps mugs of hot chocolate for all of you, the chocolate powder stale but still good - the novelty of the gesture still there and just as sweet.
Padding into the living room, the sight of you two making decorations at the table and placing them on the tree tugs at Joel’s heart strings. Remembering how he’d help Sarah decorate their tree every year. Swallowing his grief, he allows himself to enjoy this moment while remembering his daughter.
That’s something you’re teaching him - not to take moments, things, people for granted.
Despite the pain, he knows he’ll confide in you later tonight about it when you’re alone. He sets the mugs on the table, making you pop your head up to flash him a dazzling smile.
“Thank you, honey.”
“‘Course, baby,” he says with a wink. Your smile grows wider, Ellie looking up and rolling her eyes. She playfully gags, Joel smacking his lips as his smile morphs into a scowl.
“Knock it off, kid,” he scolds.
“You knock it off, old man. We’re working here, and you keep distracting my partner,” she retorts. He scoffs, rolling his eyes. You can’t help, but laugh at their banter.
“Sorry, Ellie. I promise I’m listening,” your laughter dissolving into giggles. Joel rolls his eyes before getting a fire going in the fireplace.
Standing back and taking in the scene playing out in front of him. Hot chocolate, a tree, decorations being strung upon it - how is this possible? What did he do to deserve this?
He shakes the thought from his head, not questioning the good thing – the very good thing – in front of him. Instead, he enjoys watching his girls flit around the tree.
Ellie excitedly attempts to place the makeshift star on the tree that she crafted out of some stray branches and extra paper she had in her sketch pad.
She can’t reach, being significantly shorter than the tree. Huffing in defeat, she shoots you a look - both of you thinking the same thing. She whips around, paper star in hand.
“Joel, wanna do the honors?” She asks, holding out the star. Joel swallows thickly, never having thought he’d be doing this again.
“Sure,” he softly says, taking the star from Ellie and setting it atop the tree. The three of you stand back, admiring your hard work in silence, as you tightly wrap your arms around Joel’s middle. He holds you tighter.
“Looks good,” he mumbles. You nod, soft smile on your face.
“Hell yeah, it does!” Ellie giddily yells before cutting off her next thought. “No way, is that hot chocolate?!” She shouts, rushing to the table to grab a mug.
“Yeah, careful kid, it’s still hot,” Joel warns, still wound up in your arms. Ellie blows caution to the wind as she gulps it down.
“Ellie, slow down! You’re gonna get a stomachache,” you scold lightly. “It’s hot chocolate! When the hell am I ever gonna come across this again?!”
“I’ll find some more, jus’ slow down! Gonna be all fuckin’ hopped up on sugar,” Joel begrudgingly says. Rolling her eyes, she glances at the clock. Her eyes bug out of her head.
“Shit! I told Cat I’d meet her at 6!” She shouts before gulping down the rest of her hot chocolate, slamming the mug on the table.
“Be back later!” She says, slinging her backpack over her shoulder.
“Be back by 9!” Joel shouts. “Mhmm,” her tone dismissive. “I mean it, Ellie,” he warns.
“Sure thing, old man!” She says before reaching for the doorknob. “Ellie, 9 o’clock, okay?” You chime in, asking.
She turns around, taking in the both of you. “Okay,” she says with another roll of her eyes and an exasperated sigh before heading out the door. It slams shut, making you and Joel wince.
Joel rolls his eyes. “Girl don’t listen,” rubbing his face as he grumbles.
“She’s just excited, can you blame her? Besides, she’s safe here, Joel,” you say, comfortingly rubbing your hands up and down his broad flannel-covered chest.
“I know. Just still getting used to all this,” he rasps. The two of you still stand in the doorway, wrapped up in one another before a grin breaks out on your face.
“Oh, could you help me with one more thing?” You beam at him. His brow quirks up in confusion. “‘Course, baby. What do ya need?”
You unravel yourself from his embrace, padding into the kitchen. He hears you clambering, his curiosity peaking. You return with something behind your back, smiling wider now.
Whipping the sprig of mistletoe from behind your back, you hold it above your head. His features softening.
Joel immediately recognizes what you’re holding, beaming at your antics.
“Could you help me hang this up please?” You ask, drawing out the last syllable, batting your lashes at him with a sly smirk.
“Y’know, if ya wanted a kiss, all ya gotta do is ask, babydoll,” he rasps as he takes it from you, not missing the chance to place a teasing kiss on your cheek. Waves of heat run through you from head to toe.
Joel hangs the mistletoe with ease on a nail that’s been conveniently placed above the kitchen entryway, right where you’re both standing.
You must’ve put it up there when he was on patrol a few days ago.
The red ribbon you tied around the plant stands out against the dark framing, the fire crackles in the background and illuminates the house.
“Well would ya look at that,” his voice low and husky as he locks his gaze with yours. A goofy grin on your face. “Huh. Guess you gotta kiss me now.”
“Don’t need mistletoe for that, babydoll,” he whispers. The two of you connect your lips with each other’s. Sighing into him, you finally have a moment alone with him today. You card your fingers through his hair, a satisfied groan escapes him.
You pull away breathlessly, both yours and Joel’s eyes heavy and glazed over.
“Ya know… Ellie won’t be back til 9. We’ve got some time left,” you teasingly whisper in his ear while he places a kiss to your neck.
“Lead the way, darlin,” he rasps, the two of you rushing upstairs.
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just felt like writing some tooth rotting fluff for my Joely, i love him sm 😔
i hope y’all enjoyed! 🫶🏼 thank you for reading 🩷
tag list: @gracieheartspedro @sapphic-gardn @undrthelights @javierpena-inatacvest @nostalxgic @party-hearses @mandoisapunk @tinygarbage @bastardmandennis @janaispunk @persephone-girl @harriedandharassed @its-nebuleuse
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perfectsunlight · 2 months ago
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[24] NOW
warnings: mentions of underaged drinking, slight angst
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ivory had only been to two “real” parties in her entire life. the first one was a celebration with the girls she had first debuted with. newjeans was just a project group, and everyone knew they would only last for two years, but they wanted to celebrate their accomplishments. the group had risen quickly in the industry, and this small, intimate gathering marked the close of an era for the girls. they laughed, danced, cried, and shared bittersweet moments of reflection over everything they'd achieved in such a short time.
jieun had been aware of the party. in fact, she was the one who picked jane up afterward, offering her a warm smile and a quiet ride home. there had been no interrogation, no disapproving looks—just an air of trust between them. jieun simply said, “i trust you to make smart decisions,” and that was the end of it. 
the second time was different. 
jane had just turned 17, and she was beginning to really feel the pull of rebellion that came with adolescence and her mother’s absence. the industry had forced her to grow up fast, but there were moments when she longed to be just a regular teenager. when her friends invited her to a low-key gathering, it didn’t seem like a big deal. they weren’t throwing some wild, out-of-control party; it was just a small group having fun.
she slipped out of her grandmother’s house that evening, heart pounding in excitement and guilt. it wasn’t that she was trying to hide anything from jieun; it was just that she didn’t want the lecture that would inevitably come if her grandmother found out she was going to a party where alcohol would be present.
the night had been a blur of laughter, music, and one too many drinks. ivory wasn’t used to alcohol, and it hit her harder than she’d expected. she didn’t have a lot, but enough to make her feel lightheaded. she hadn’t planned on drinking, but the peer pressure from her friends had been harder to resist than she thought. 
one sip turned into two, and before she knew it, the glass was empty. by the time she realized how much she’d had, it was too late. she had no idea how long she’d stayed, only that it was well past curfew when she stumbled back home, trying her best to be silent.
but jieun had been waiting.
as soon as jane walked through the door, there was no hiding her disheveled state. her grandmother’s face had been a mixture of disappointment and concern, and the silence in the air was suffocating. without saying a word, jieun helped her to her room, tucked her into bed, and then made the dreaded phone call to jennie.
her mother had been overseas performing, and even halfway across the world, jennie’s response had been swift and disciplined. jane remembered the long-distance scolding she’d received the next morning as she nursed her hangover.
“how much did you drink?” her mother’s sharp tone had cut through the phone, startling ivory even in her groggy state.
"not a lot," ivory had mumbled, wincing as her headache throbbed. “maybe 3 i think?”
“you think?” jennie’s voice was sharp with disapproval. even through the phone, she still felt intimidated by the authority of her mother. “jane ivory kim.”
ivory froze at the sound of her full name. jennie never used it. she only did when she was really, really upset. from what she could remember, that was only the third time in her life that she had heard it. but she now knew there was no escaping this now.
“do you even realize what you’ve done? you’re not even 18 yet!” jennie’s voice was a mixture of anger and concern. “you’re supposed to be focusing on your career, on your future, and here you are—drinking? sneaking around like this? i expected better from you.”
ivory bit her lip, her hands trembling slightly as she held the phone. she knew she had messed up, but hearing jennie’s disappointment stung more than she could have prepared for.
“i’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice small. jennie’s sigh was long and heavy, frustration clear, but there was an undercurrent of something softer. 
“you have to understand that this world isn’t kind, especially to someone like you. you can’t afford to make these kinds of mistakes, ivory. one wrong step, and people will tear you apart.”
she knew her mother wasn’t just angry—she was scared. scared of what the public might say, scared of how one misstep could affect her daughter’s future. and jennie knew better than anyone how ruthless the media was.
the older woman had spent years mastering the art of survival in that world, but ivory—ivory was still so young. so vulnerable. and jennie would do anything to protect her from that, even if it meant that right now she was being a strict, overbearing mother.
needless to say, ivory never did anything of that nature ever again.
and now, here she was at her third “real” party—an afterparty in of the most famous clubs in paris. ivory walked through the doors as her sharp eyes took in her surroundings. 
jisoo stirred the cocktail in her hand, a thoughtful expression on her face as she glanced around the bustling afterparty. she’d been keeping an eye on jennie, noting the way her friend’s attention seemed to shift between the crowd and her phone. the air was thick with anticipation and excitement, and jisoo couldn’t help but be intrigued by the subtle tension she’d noticed earlier.
casually, she leaned closer to jennie, her tone light but with an undercurrent of curiosity. “oh yeah,” she began, taking a sip of her drink and surveying the scene. “you’ve got a clone running around. there’s this kid who looks like you, i saw her at the show.”
jennie’s head snapped up, her eyes widening slightly before she masked her surprise with a casual smile. 
“ella? you’ve met her before, we had dinner with her once.” 
the older one shook her head, giving a form of half smile. she took a sip of her drink before responding, changing her focus from the bustling bodies to her bandmate.
“i wasn’t talking about ella. there’s this new kid in dior, her name is ivory. she looks just like you.”
jennie quickly grabbed her drink and held it to her lips, pausing to speak before taking a quick swig.  “ivory? i haven’t heard of her. i don’t really pay attention to these new kids.” her tone was light and casual, almost a bit disregarding.
jisoo’s eyes sparkled with something jennie couldn’t quite name. she watched her friend smile at her before speaking once again. “well, it’s quite the resemblance. you should see for yourself. i was planning on introducing you anyway.”
jennie’s heart skipped a beat as she let out a chuckle of surprise. “oh, that’s really not necessary, jisoo.” 
the dior ambassador’s eyes shifted to the entrance of the club, watching as a familiar figure walked in. she placed her hands on the table and rose to her feet, flashing a quick smile to her younger bandmate.
“nonsense. i’ll go get her. stay here.”
there were very few things that made jennie kim feel genuine fear. sure, she got scared easily. but genuine fear?
there were only two things: the father of her daughter and the world finding out about ivory.
“hey!” lisa squealed as she took a seat next to jennie. the idol was snapped out of her thoughts by the noise, as well as the sight of the thai girl with an australian behind her.
“hi rosie, hi lisa.” she chuckled softly, trying to mask her anxiety as the two settled in beside her. “where’s jisoo?” the thai girl asked, her head on a swivel as she scanned the bustling scene. “i thought she was here?” 
“oh i think she went to the bathroom—” as if the universe ignored every plea in jennie’s body, jisoo reappeared, a bright smile on her face as she waved enthusiastically. “i’m back! and look who i brought!” she gestured to ivory, who was standing slightly awkwardly beside her.
“oh hey girls,” jisoo announced, grinning from ear to ear as she gently motioned towards the younger girl beside her. “this is ivory, she’s dior’s newest ambassador. i came to introduce her to jennie. don’t they look alike?”
ivory blinked, caught off guard. however, she remained silent, simply giving a small bow to the veteran idols in front of her. jennie felt a rush of heat to her cheeks, and before she could respond, lisa leaned forward, her expression intrigued as she examined the features on jane’s face. “oh wow, she really does look like you! what the hell?” rosé nodded in agreement, her eyes wide as she pointed a finger between the two. “she looks like you did when you were a trainee, unnie. are you two related?”
jennie let out a forced laugh, feeling a mix of pride and panic at the unexpected attention. “well—uh—”
before she could finish, jisoo jumped in, “of course they’re related! look at their faces!” she elbowed jennie playfully, adding a layer of humor to the situation. “there’s no way you two aren’t even cousins at least,” rosie mentioned, leaning back into the leather bench.
ivory, however, felt a bit overwhelmed by the scrutiny. “i don’t—”  she started, but the words faltered as her gaze drifted across the room. that’s when she spotted yuna in the distance, laughing and chatting with a group nearby. relief washed over her, and without thinking, she seized the opportunity.
“uh, i think i need to go say hi to my friend. it was nice meeting you all!” ivory blurted out, her voice rising slightly as she stood up from the table and quickly bowed before almost running over to yuna. the suddenness of her movement startled jennie, who watched wide-eyed as her daughter made a beeline toward her friend.
“wait—ivory!” jennie called out, but her daughter was already weaving through the crowd, determined to escape the spotlight. “see? she’s just like you!” jisoo teased, but jennie’s heart sank as she watched ivory disappear into the throng.
“give her a moment,” rosé reassured, her eyes following ivory’s retreating figure. “it’s a lot to take in.”
lisa nodded, her expression thoughtful. “yeah, she’ll be fine. just needs to catch up with her friends.”
jennie felt a mix of frustration and concern. she wanted to protect ivory, to shield her from the pressures that came with their family name, but she couldn’t help but feel that running away wasn’t the solution.
“maybe i should go after her,” jennie said, her instinct to protect kicking in.
“let her breathe,” jisoo said gently as she slid a new glass towards her friend. “it’s not like you’re her mother.”
jennie forced a laugh, but the comment struck a nerve. she was her mother, whether people recognized it or not. the idol fought the nerve to just tell it all, but she knew better than that. she settled back into her seat, trying to relax as she kept her eyes trained on her baby girl.
from her distance, jennie watched as ivory joined her friends. they were laughing, and for a moment, jennie felt a flicker of pride. she was happy her kiddo was enjoying the night. but then she saw a drink in ivory’s hand. given it was just a small glass of champagne, and jane was 18, it seemed harmless enough for her to let it slide.
jennie aimlessly engaged in conversation with her girls, but her gaze kept drifting back to ivory. the way she laughed with her friends brought a small smile to jennie's face, but there was a nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach.
but then ivory raised her glass for another. jennie's heart raced. she didn’t want to overreact, but two drinks in one night—especially knowing her daughter’s alcohol tolerance was very low—made her uneasy.
“excuse me, i need to use the bathroom,” jennie said, standing up abruptly. she glanced at the other girls, who exchanged a few looks. jisoo in particular watched her bandmate’s figure disappear into the bustling crowd.
as she navigated through the sea of dancing people, jennie felt a surge of protective instinct kick in. her sharp eyes glanced around, making sure no one was too close to ivory. her friend group had gone off somewhere, leaving her daughter alone near one of the side bars with a shot of something that looked a bit too strong being slid her way. 
“ivory!” jennie shouted, her voice firm yet laced with concern. the bass and lights pounded through the air, but her voice cut through it all, sharp with a mother's authority. jane froze, her hand hovering just above the small glass that had been slid toward her. she glanced over her shoulder, wide-eyed, before jennie reached her, her expression tense.
“oh sh—”
“what do you think you’re doing?” jennie’s words were calm but underlined with urgency as she swiftly put a hand on her daughter’s wrist. “i’m just...drinking. it’s a party.” ivory said, her tone defensive and a bit sharp as she crossed her arms. she avoided her mother’s intense gaze, clearly caught off guard.
jennie’s grip on jane’s wrist tightened ever so slightly, but her voice remained steady, though now tinged with a bit of frustration. “you’re not just drinking, jane ivory. you’re eighteen, and that’s a shot,” she said, gesturing to the glass sitting on the bar. “do you even know what’s in it? do you even know who gave it to you?”
ivory rolled her eyes, pulling her wrist free from jennie’s grasp. “look, seriously? i’m not a little kid anymore. it’s just a shot.” she reached for the glass again, her fingers brushing the rim. “it’s not like i’m doing anything crazy.”
her mother’s heart raced, the protective instinct flaring up even stronger. jennie’s voice was stern but laced with genuine concern. “you think everyone here has your best interests at heart just because it’s a party?”
ivory hesitated, her hand still hovering near the glass, clearly torn between rebellion and the nagging voice of reason her mother represented. she glanced up at jennie, her jaw tightening. “you’re being dramatic.”
her fingers wrapped around the shot glass despite her mother’s strict warning. she lifted it halfway to her lips, her eyes daring jennie to say something else.
immediately, jennie’s hand shot out, wrapping around the glass, stopping it just short of ivory’s mouth. their eyes locked, a silent standoff. “you may be old enough to drink,” jennie said firmly, her voice unyielding. “but i am still your mother. and you will not disregard that.” she pried the glass from her daughter’s fingers.
the younger girl’s jaw clenched as jennie took the alcohol away from her grip. the tension between them was palpable, as it usually was. but this was different since they were in public. ivory looked away, clearly trying to rein in her frustration, her arms crossing tightly over her chest. “whatever,” she muttered under her breath, her tone simmering with resentment. 
“you don’t have to embarrass me like this.”
jennie, still holding the glass, placed it firmly back on the bar. she met ivory’s gaze with a mix of determination and understanding. “i’m not trying to embarrass you. i’m trying to protect you,” she said softly, though her voice held a steel edge. “you’ll understand one day.”
“just because you made mistakes at my age doesn’t mean that i will, too.” 
ivory whispered harshly, her eyes flashing with a mix of defiance and hurt. jennie’s expression softened, though her frustration remained. the words stung more than she wanted to admit, but she kept her composure. “i’m not saying you will,” jennie replied quietly, her voice gentle yet firm. “i just don’t want you to feel like you have to make the same choices to figure things out.”
ivory rolled her eyes, clearly feeling cornered. “i’m not a kid anymore.” the blackpink member sighed, knowing that pushing further wouldn’t help at the moment. 
“i know,” she replied, softening her tone further. “but just because you’re older doesn’t mean i stop caring.”
her daughter opened her mouth to retort but stopped as something caught jennie’s attention. a figure in the distance stood with their phone held up, the lens clearly aimed in their direction. jennie’s heart sank as she realized what was happening.
jennie’s eyes narrowed, and the familiar, uncomfortable feeling of being watched and judged washed over her. she stepped slightly in front of ivory, instinctively trying to shield her from the attention. 
“valentine, we need to leave,” she said, her voice now laced with urgency. the younger girl furrowed her brow, confused by her mother’s sudden shift in tone. this was her last night in paris, she wanted to have fun. 
“what? why? i don’t want to leave. why do you always ruin—”
“jane ivory kim.” her voice low but sharp, and the use of her full name sending a jolt of warning through the young girl. even jane knew she was stepping on a line she shouldn't cross.
jennie’s eyes held an emotion that even ivory, in her frustration, couldn’t quite place. it wasn’t just anger. there was something deeper, something that made ivory pause for a second longer than she intended.
ivory’s frustration flared again, but now it was tinged with guilt. she knew her words had been harsh, maybe even offensive. but she hated how her mother always seemed to interfere just when she wanted a little freedom. 
however, seeing the way jennie looked at her now, even in the dim lighting and harsh noise, something about it made her chest tighten.
jennie was struggling to hold back her emotions. she understood that ivory was at an age where she wanted to spread her wings, to experience life without constant oversight. but jennie had been through it all—she knew how quickly things could spiral out of control, especially in the public eye.
she knew jane didn’t mean what she said. at least, that’s what she kept telling herself so she wouldn’t have her heart shatter into a million pieces.
“i’m not trying to ruin anything, ivory. i’m trying to protect you,” jennie’s voice softened, though the urgency was still there. she took a deep breath, lowering her voice so only her daughter could hear. 
“there’s someone filming us. we have to leave. now.”
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CLOSED.
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ghostlygeto · 1 year ago
Text
back home | hinata shoyo
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pairing: hinata shoyo x gn!reader
warnings: breakups, hurt/comfort, brazil era hinata, reader is too good for him...they deserve better...., hinata calls reader "baby", they make up!, not proof read
wc: 1.1k
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“you’re coming home next week, right?” you asked hinata, smiling at him through the phone screen. he had been in brazil for close to two years now, and although you understood why he moved there, that didn’t make the distance easier. “it’ll be so nice to finally see you in person, shoyo. no more video calls, not for a long time.”
when you were met with silence from your boyfriend and you saw the guilty look on his face your stomach dropped. “shoyo?”
“just a couple more weeks. two months, that’s all,” hinata started, staring at you through the screen, “you understand, right baby? you know that this is a crazy opportunity.”
you sighed. yes, being able to uproot his life and move to brazil to focus on volleyball was a crazy opportunity, two years ago when it initially happened. now it just seemed so repetitive. hinata plans a date to finally move back home, he gets you excited and prepared for his return, and then he drops the bomb that he’s staying longer. 
at first you couldn’t blame him, knowing how excited he was to be there and to learn and become better. you were excited for him, too, because that’s what it means to be in love. but now as you stared at his ginger hair and tan skin through the phone, you weren’t sure it was worth it anymore.
“shoyo,” you start, “i don’t think i can wait another two months. it was fine the first few times you added an additional month or two to the trip. but now…” you trailed off, seeing the hurt on his face. “two years is a long time to be apart. i’m tired of waiting.”
“wait but- i already agreed, i can’t take it back. and two months isn’t that long.” hinata rambled, trying to justify it to the both of you it seemed. “you can’t let this be it, i’ll be home soon baby.”
“i can’t, hinata.” it felt like both of you froze up at the use of his last name, but it was necessary. “i can’t keep waiting forever. this isn’t good for either of us and you know it isn’t. you deserve to spend as much time in brazil as you want, and i deserve a boyfriends that’s…”
“there.” hinata finished your sentence, no longer looking at the camera. you were sure you caught sight of tears already filling his brown eyes. you felt guilty, of course you did. you knew he loved you and you loved him, but you weren’t built for this kind of distance. “i understand. i just…wish it didn’t have to be this way.”
you nodded, wishing things could be different as well. but things didn’t always work out the way you’d wanted them to. and this was one of those times, it seemed. “when you’re ready to come home, i’ll be ready to try again. but for now i think this is best.”
hinata stayed silent for several minutes, trying to find the right words to say. but what could he say? he realized he had destroyed the only thing outside volleyball that mattered to him. you had been there for him through everything, the only person that had been by his side longer was kageyama (and even then, it was only by a year). and now you were going to be gone. back in japan by yourself like you had been for the last two years, but it was real this time.
“right.” hinata wasn’t sure what else to say. he wanted to beg you to stay, to please just hold out a little longer. but it was unfair, wasn’t it? and he knew that. you knew that. it was just hard to come to terms with. “so. i guess this is goodbye?”
“for now,” you nod your head, “yes, this is goodbye.”
“i love you, y/n.”
the video call ends.
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“ah, hang on a second. someone just rang my doorbell,” you adjust the phone in your hand as you walked to the front door. you were currently on the phone with one of your friends from high school, asking if she could help you move out soon. it had only been a week since you spoke to shoyo, so you hadn’t had time to move yet. but thankfully you got everything arranged so you'd be out soon.
looking through the peephole, you felt your breath catch in your throat at the person on the other side. “i’m gonna have to call you back later, yeah? okay, bye.” you hung the phone up and checked the peephole one more time, just to make sure you weren’t seeing things.
“shoyo?” your eyes were wide as you cracked open the door. you were almost sure that it was a figment of your imagination, how on earth could he be standing in front of you right now? according to him, he still had seven more weeks in brazil.
“y/n,” hinata smiled widely, shoulders relaxing as his eyes landed on you, “thank god you’re still here. i was worried you’d be gone by now.”
“shoyo what are you doing here? i thought you were going to be in brazil for another two months?” you opened the door the rest of the way, ushering him inside and helping him with a few of his bags. it took everything in you to not immediately take him into your arms, kiss him on his face and cry tears of joy.
“brazil was amazing. the best time of my life, and i wish i could stay forever,” hinata started, looking away from you for a second before meeting your eyes again, “but nothing in the world is worth losing you. i’d quit playing volleyball tomorrow if you asked me to.”
you almost laughed at him. “well, i’m never going to ask you to quit playing volleyball. it’s the most important thing in your life.”
“after you, of course.” he quickly corrected. the smile fell from him face as quickly as you had seen it form. “i’m so sorry, y/n. i had been unfair to you for almost two years. i can’t believe i ever considered staying there for a second longer. please forgive me. i don’t want to break up.”
tears welled in your eyes, suddenly overwhelmed with emotion. “sho,” you sniffled, taking him into your arms the way you had immediately wanted to, “of course i forgive you. the fact that you’re here right now means more than anything.”
“oh thank god.” hinata laughed, “i was really worried you wouldn’t forgive me. not that i’d blame you if you didn’t, ‘cause what i did to you was really shitty.”
you rolled your eyes, pressing kisses all along his cheeks and jaw, “it was really shitty. but i’m not sure i could stay mad at anyone who flew across an ocean to ask for my forgiveness, y’know.”
“i’ll have to keep that in mind for the future.”
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just a short little thing bc i've been thinking about hina lately <3 reblogs, comments, nd likes apprecaited! <3
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the-forbidden-pookie · 4 months ago
Text
Unknown motives
Tw: SFW, written with a fem reader in mind, attempt at comedy, fluff with a dash of something else, slight use of profanity, reader is short for plot reasons.
Pairing: Anton Ivanov x reader
#Free Palestine🇵🇸
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~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Sorry," the large man says as he approaches you "I got held up by this strange guy asking if I wanted to play cards or something on my way here... Hm? You haven't started interviewing our president yet, have you? Don't forget to lower the mic stand a bit."
You blink up at him in surprise, and suppress an eye roll. You can't help it, everything about him was giving... the same vibe you see in the old capital era movies, the frat boy types. Still, you respond cordially enough "Huh? Oh you mean the reporter lady from earlier? No she left already, I'm the new part timer." You say confidently, deciding you'll end this conversation quickly if you looked sufficiently assertive. The work site was plenty noisy too, surely he'll get annoyed from talking out here soon enough.
The man's hand was on its way to the back of his head, his eyes trained away from you before he halts and looks back "A new part timer? Who the hell hired you?"
"I hired myself." You say simply.
"Ha, you hired yourself? Really now? And who made you think you were qualified enough to work here?"
You don't bother giving your real reasons "The field of construction calls for me." Is what you say instead.
"Calls for you, huh?" To your surprise , the man takes your words seriously, and you notice a name tag that introduces him as Senior Staff and On Site Project Manager Anton Ivanov. Wow, what a mouthful, no wonder he seems to know who exactly does and doesn't work here.
"You look like a runt... Can you handle the job? Do you even know how to tell apart a Gauging trowel from a Margin trowel?"
You blink owlishly back at him, startled out of your thoughts "A what now?"
"Exactly my point! How about I test you, then? First, go get me a torque wrench."
"Ahaha" you laugh awkwardly "Uh yup! I totally know what that is!" Why is there no connection in this place? I need to Google this! You panic internally.
"Oh really? Well then go get one. It's right by the tool box in the west warehouse." He points at said building "I'll be waiting here."
You quickly turn away before he sees your expression descend into panic "Mhm, be right back boss man!"
"Hah, what's with that look?... Wait... Hey! Come back here!"
You ignore him and use your small frame to your advantage and easily weave through construction workers left and right, most of them admittedly much bigger than you. Still, you disappear into the crowd and easily loose anyone trying to stop you. Once you make it to the warehouse, you go ask someone on duty about the tool, and find a bear gentleman squinting at a clipboard.
"Excuse me sir." You interrupt politely "The project manager sent me to grab a tool for him, can you tell me where-" you pause. What did he call it again? You stare at the fellow in front of you as he stares back. Once it became apparent you weren't going to finish the sentence any time soon, he points at a collection of crates in one section of the warehouse
"I'm busy so help yourself kid." He says, then leaves before you can correct him about you not being a kid.
Welp.
You go look though the crates, hoping any of them would be marked or named, and while some of them are, most of those are in Russian.
You don't speak Russian.
You sigh, and decide nothing will get done if you keep standing here, so you grab a random heavy tool, and lug it back to Anton, who surprisingly did wait for you where he said he would.
"I'm back! Did you miss me?" You pant from the exertion, trying to hide the toll this is taking on you with jest "Is- is this it?"
Anton looks dumbfounded for a moment before speaking "...That's a welder's mask, kid. The kind bear Thirens use."
You look down "So that's what the glass part is for... Hey I'm not a kid! You're just way too tall!"
Anton smirks, amused with your response "You're not a kid, huh? Then how old are you, shorty?"
You look away. "Hmph. You should never ask a lady about her age! It's improper!" You dodge the question. You may be an adult, but there's a non zero chance that once you show him your ID he thinks you're presenting him with a fake one and kick you out immediately. You'd rather not give him the chance. "So how do I go about properly signing up to join Belobog Heavy Industries anyway?"
Anton chuckles, seemingly getting a kick out of this "Ha! It's funny that a shorty like you can call herself a lady. You're barely at half my height. Anyways, if you wanna work here, I'll have to assess your experience and qualifications first."
You are certainly not looking forward to that.
"... Isn't there someone else that can do that...? Maybe someone I don't have to crane my neck all the way up just to look at their face?" You sweat drop.
Anton laughs, thoroughly enjoying this situation "Nope, not a chance. You're stuck with me, shorty. Now, quit complaining and tell me what you can do with those tiny arms of yours."
You crouch down and grab a random rock, then stack a few more on top of it. Once done you stand back up and point at your creation. "Construction...?"
Anton raises an eyebrow, looking the most baffled you've seen him all day, and that's saying something. He stares at your attempt before he lets out a disbelieving laugh "Construction? You call that... whatever it is, construction? I'm not sure if I should be impressed, concerned, or just downright baffled."
You don't hesitate "Which one's more likely to get me hired?"
"Anton crosses his arms, looking you up and down as he seriously consideres your question. His earnestness is starting to get to you.
"Hm, I suppose I'd be impressed, because it takes a lot of audacity to call that thing construction. So I'm going to give you a chance."
He grins slightly.
"Spend the day around the site today but don't go past any yellow lines without permission. If you still want to join us afterwards, come find me and my bro at the end of the day at my office. We'll discuss your new position in the company then, shorty."
You can't help it, caught off guard by his genuine offer, you let out a huge, surprised smile, no sarcasm or barbs in sight "Wait really?!"
You can vaguely tell Anton is taken aback by your response, but he quickly covers it up with a smirk "Of course. It'd be fun to have someone so short around here to tease, it's not like I can mess with the president after all." He says jokingly.
At your resulting glare, he chuckles and ruffles your hair with his large hand.
For a second, you feel dumbfounded at the overly familiar act, but you quickly regain your composure and push his hand away "Sorry head pats are reserved for friendship level 8 or higher."
"Oh? 8 or higher, huh? That's a pretty high number. I guess I'll have to work my way up to earn the privelage then.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As the work day comes to a close, you make your way to Anton's office, directed by the scowling red head girl that often came to check on you throughout the day. She awkwardly waves off your genuine thanks.
I guess everyone here looks scary but is actually nice? You wonder.
"Hey there, shorty." Anton perks up from his slumped position as he sees you come in. You notice his desk and seat appear comically small when compared to his size, it doesn't help that the office room is rather cramped. "Did you have a fun day of "construction" today?"
You sigh "I tried to help, but everyone kept telling me I'd just get in the way." You say as you unceremoniously drop in a guest chair by his wooden desk "Please hurry up and give me an official position at the company."
Anton's smirk softens as he sees your dejected expression.
"Heh, I can see you really want to fit in here, huh? My bro and I really appreciate that kind of spirit. Alright, I'll do you a favor and give you an official position."
He seems to think for a moment before speaking "How about you become the company's official short stack? We do lack a mascot."
Your eye twitches involuntarily "My dude you are giving my fist an erection. Are you trying to get socked in the face?"
Anton doubles over his desk laughing, a full body laugh with his shoulders shaking and his mouth gasping for air. Well it was a very good line wasn't it? You inwardly give yourself a pat on the back for causing that reaction. Finally when the bursts of laughter subside and he can actually breathe again, the taller male leans down and gets close to your face with his signature smirk on.
"Ha! I'd like to see you try. Besides, you're too short to land a proper punch, anyway."
Anton's smirk fades into a more serious expression this time as he considers your question. He taps his chin in thought.
You deadpan. Bro cannot be acting all nonchalant after he almost went into cardiac arrest from your joke "Back on topic," you say impatiently "any real positions I can fill up?"
He looks you up and down for what feels like the millionth time this day, before speaking "If I'm being honest, the only jobs you could fit would probably be serving food at the cafeteria or maybe assisting in office work, hardly something that would feel like construction work."
"Hmm, let's see..."
You try not to pout "But just today I saw a girl shorter and definitely younger then me, she was working hands on and-"
"The president," Anton interrupts "has many years of experience, she also may not look it to your untrained eyes but she has a lot of practical muscles that make up for her size disadvantage."
You blanch That was the President?! I'd been calling her girlie-pop all day! I think I even called her pookie once?!
Suddenly, all the strange looks the staff were throwing you throughout the day made a lot more sense.
"That said..." Anton brings you back out of your thoughts "How about we start you off as an assistant? I'll have you work under me, and I'll show you the ropes around here, it would also count as a training period. If you prove yourself competent, I'll consider promoting you to an official position."
Your eyes gain a shine to them at the offer he went of his way to give, and you feel a bit remorseful at all the attitude you've been giving him "Wait, wouldn't that be troublesome for you?"
Anton shrugs lightly, that smirk returning to his face.
"Troublesome? Nah, I'd get a kick out of having a pipsqueak like you following me around. And who knows, maybe you can learn a thing or two from a professional like me." He says, pointing proudly at his chest.
You deadpan yet again. "I take back the good thoughts I started having of you, what was I thinking?" You tell him as you shake your head in mock despair.
Anton laughs at your blunt response, clearly enjoying the banter. "Ha! There's Shorty's short temper kicking in again. Come on, don't be so uptight . I'm just messin' with ya."
He grins widely, clearly finding this whole situation amusing. He then playfully ruffles your hair with his hand.
You push his hand away again "My head isn't for patting unless you're level 8 friendship I said!"
Anton laughs good naturedly, and obediently removes his hand.
"Ha! Still going on about that friendship level thing? Fine, I'll keep my hands to myself for now. But just know, I have plenty of other ways to bother you, Shorty."
"I've known you for only one day and yet I don't doubt that one bit."
Anton crosses his arms and leans against the nearby wall, looking down at you.
Still, you can't resist messing with him right back, so you get up and walk away "Nevermind I'll go see if the convenience store down the street is still hiring-"
"Oh, you have no idea. Stick around, shorty, and you'll see what I mean. You haven't experienced true torment yet." His voice has a teasing quality to it and you can tell he puts extra care in making that obvious to compensate for his naturally intimidating size and face.
Anton quickly scrambles off the wall and grabs your arm, halting your retreat "Oh no you don't. You're not getting out of this that easily." He smirks, as if he wasn't floundering less then a second ago. His grip on your arm is gentle yet unrelenting "You're stuck with me, Shorty. You already accepted the job as my assistant, remember? You can't back out now."
You sigh dramatically, and hear as Anton laughs at your theatrics. You then remember the two of you haven't properly introduced yourselves to each other yet "I guess I have to be a woman of my word." You say in mock reluctance as he lets go of your arm "It's a little late, but my name is Y/n by the way, L/n Y/n. What's yours?"
His smirk slowly fades into a genuine smile "Oh, we never did properly introduce ourselves, huh? Hah, guess we were so busy bickering we forgot about the formalities." He extends his hand for a handshake "Name's Anton Ivanov. Remember that, ok Shorty?"
You grasp his hand, his grip strong and sturdy "Like I said, my name's Y/n. Since we're on the more serious topics, is there a contract I need to sign or am I in a trial period for now?"
Anton shakes your hand gently before responding, seemingly very aware of how much bigger his hand is as it is engulfs yours. If you didn't know better you'd think he's nervous to accidentally hurt you. "Yeah trial period's a fitting name, and no contract signings just yet. We'll see how you do working under me before we worry about paperwork. So, Shorty, are you ready to get started as my assistant?"
"How early does the work day start here?" You ask, forcefully dragging your eyes away after they started staring at his chest a bit too long. You can't help it tho! It's more comfortable for your neck to stare at that region!
Anton scratches his chin thoughtfully, considering your question and blissfully unaware of your internal turmoil.
"Hmm, work usually starts around 6 in the morning. We like to get an early start here at Belobog. Why do you ask?"
You gulp "Wow, bright and early with the sunrise huh?"
Anton valiantly tries to suppress a chuckle at your reaction. He fails, but you suppose it's the effort that counts.
"Yep, bright and early. We don't like to waste time around here. And hey, don't worry about adjusting to the early hours, you'll get used to it soon enough, shorty."
"I sure hope so." You sweat drop, then your eyes drift to the arm sized device strapped to his arm. "Is that the main tool you use?" You motion with your chin towards the machine he still has strapped to his arm despite the work day being already over.
Anton follows your gaze, and he brightens considerably at your question. "This is my bro, it's a pile driver." He says seriously, and it doesn't take long to realize he's not joking.
He grins, looking down at his arm-mounted weapon affectionately "My bro and I go way back, and it got my back in both work and combat." He says proudly.
"I guess you could say it is, in a way, like family. It's been with me through a lot."
He pats the pile driver, a fond look in his eyes.
Your eyes soften "Well, can't wait to see you and your bro in action once I officially start!" You exclaim, mentally cataloguing the pile driver as Anton's Emotional Support Companion in you head.
"So, I hear Belobog Industries has dorms for all staff members, are newbies like me included or do I need to find my own lodgings around here?" You change the subject, because while you didn't mind hearing more about Anton and getting to know him better, you did still have an objectif in coming here "I wanna know if I'll need to make moving arrangement soon."
Anton's grin widens at your enthusiasm and what he reads as genuine interest in the company.
"Ha! That eager to get in on the action, huh?" he guesses "You're going to fit right in here."
He pats your head lightly, and you're starting to understand it's meant to be a playful gesture rather than a condescending or even teasing one.
"And don't worry about lodging. We provide dorms for all staff members, including newbies like you. You don't need to worry about finding a place to stay."
"Well that's convenient," you say as you bat his arm away, almost by reflex now "I guess I better go get my stuff sorted by tomorrow then." You say as you shift to get going, before a loud bang outside Anton's office door startles you both, and a tall woman comes barreling in.
"Anton!" She all but shouts "I got it! I cracked the code uncle Khors left behind!"
Next to you, Anton is initially startled by the sudden entrance, but he soon regains his composure. He throws a look at you, as if making sure you're not scared off by the taller woman's antics, then turns back to her, his face a mixture of surprise and curiosity.
"Grace? You cracked the code? That's great, but we need to tell the president before you -"
But this Grace person is no longer listening, as her attention is now in on you "Huh, I didn't know it was bring your kid to work day? Wait who's kid is this?"
You deadpan "For the last time. I'm an adult."
At your claim, she looks you up and down and it's quite obvious she doesn't believe you. "A highschooler maybe." She murmurs under her breath.
Anton quickly interjects before she can say more, and you can hear the hint of annoyance in his voice as he speaks "Grace, Y/n's not a high schooler..."
You finally sigh and take out your ID card, at least Anton seemed to believe you so you didn't think he'd take it for a fake ID.
"Oh you poor thing!" The woman says after thoroughly comparing your face to the image on the card "who malnourished you?"
"I'm not malnourished." You say with a tired sigh, but it's not like you can explain your situation, so you don't think you come off as very believable.
Anton gives Grace a sarcastic look as she tries to save her mistake. He rolls his eyes, but a small smile still forms on his face.
"Well!" Grace says "Whatever you two are discussing can wait, let's get her to the cafeteria before it closes, someone is in desperate need of a big meal-" At Anton's warning look, Grace amends "Uhh that person being Anton! A bear sized fellow like him definitely needs to eat lots!"
"Nice save there, Grace. Real subtle."
I don't know what these two's relationship is, but they seem close. You wonder internally.
And as Anton glances at you, it seems he misreads your pondering expression as one of doubt about yourself because he says: "Don't you worry, Shorty. You're fine. I've met actual malnourished people, and trust me, you're in the clear."
...why is he such a green flag?! You have to admit to yourself it'd be quite the shame if he is dating Grace.
"But it's true that we're all hungry" Anton continues while nodding "Grace is right, and let me tell you, the cafeteria food here is really good. I wouldn't want you to miss out on it, shorty."
You nod back, liking the idea "Alrighty then, please lead the way." You go for a polite voice but at Grace's giggle you wonder if you over did it.
Anton grins and gestures for both of you to follow him.
"Aight, I'll show you the way to the cafeteria."
He starts walking and motions for you and Grace to fall in step beside him.
Grace starts telling you both all about the mysterious code the former president of Belobog Industries had left behind, and while fairly sure the information should remain confidential, it wasn't like you could stop the woman on her tirade, you notice Anton doesn't even try.
Then again, they probably think I haven't a single clue of what she's talking about.
As the three of you near what you assume is the cafeteria, Grace stops dead in her tracks. "Oh gosh I'm so sorry, I know I was the one that suggested coming here but I just got an alert and I need to go back and check on my children!" Grace exclaims showing a notification with a warning symbol for an icon. By children, you figure she's talking about machines or software code.
Anton hardly looks surprised. He shakes his head "Hah, typical Grace. Don't worry about it, we can grab food ourselves. You go take care of your babies."
Anton pats her on the shoulder reassuringly "Just make sure to eat something later, okay?"
Grace nods, and you expect her to hurry off towards her workstation but instead she moves to your side and whispers in your ear "My intuition tells me you're a good person, so good luck, I'm rooting for you!" And as you blink in surprise, the woman is already rushing off. You realize that at some point you'd made the judgement she was wholly focused on her mechanic creations and had little attention to her surroundings, but that had to be untrue. She read the situation in seconds and seems to be setting you two up on a date of sorts.
Anton on the other hand watched the entire exchange with one eyebrow raised.
As Grace runs off towards her creations, he turns back to you with a slightly quizzical look.
"What'd she whisper to you?"
You give him a sly smile "Wouldn't you like to know?"
Anton gives you a playful glare in return and crosses his arms "Oh, now you're just teasing me. Come on, spill the beans Shorty. Let me in on the secret."
You skip ahead and push the cafeteria double doors open "Oh wow this place smells great, it's suddenly making me feel so hungry! We better get some food quick!"
Behind you, you hear the taller male let out a hearty chuckle at your unsubtle change of topic "A convenient case of selective hearing, huh? Okay, I'll let it slide for now."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
After filling your trays with food the two of you choose somewhere to sit, and with the cafeteria mostly empty it was like you had the whole place to yourselves.
Time to satisfy our empty stomachs.
Or so you thought.
You barely get to sit down before Anton gets a call, and he immediately gets up to take it. You wonder for a few seconds if it would be rude or not to start eating without him, however the call doesn't take that long.
"Sorry about that." Anton says, but when you look up to face him it's like looking at a different person. His attention is still on his phone and the set of his shoulders is stiff, but most of all, his smile is nowhere to be found "Something came up, you can start without me and uh- I'll be right back."
He's gone before you can get a word in edgewise.
Well, now you've been subjected to the inconvenience of eating alone in a cafeteria. At least it's mostly empty. You take exactly two bites of your delicious burger (it seems he was right about the food in this place) before you're interrupted, by Grace again this time.
"Hey! You're Anton's girlfriend!"
You almost choke-
"Where did he go- I think I messed up and I need his help before Sweet Pea finds out!"
Wow... Where do I even start with this one...
You decide to go with the basics "I'm not his girlfriend. I don't know someone called him away I think. Why are you afraid of a vegetable finding out about your mistake...?"
"So he's not here? Oh no." The woman turns on her heel and leaves.
You don't hesitate and follow after her, you'd rather not have to sit alone in a cafeteria, you just hope no one will put away your food while you're gone.
The real problem tho, is how much taller and faster she was. By the time you make it to the double doors you have no clue which direction she went in.
I think she went this way last time?
You pick a direction and at some point the smoke alarms start beeping in the halls, and you hear footsteps somewhere in the building rushing to and fro. Sure enough, you find yourself in a technician's lab at the end of the route. The only problem is, Grace is not here.
You walk in.
It doesn't take long to figure out what was causing a commotion, as the smoke alarm was beeping on and off above a smoking machine component. You step closer and take a look.
Hmm I'm not familiar with this model, but...
Your head turns towards the computer setup on the desk, warning and error messages flashing on the monitor. You sit down and crack your knuckles.
Let's give this a go.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Anton comes back to the cafeteria, finding you right where he left you.
"Heyo Shorty, sorry that took a while, wha- you're not eating yet?"
"Ah- I nibbled at the burger a bit, but I didn't wanna start without you so..." You lie smoothly.
"What the- I told you you could start," Anton says plopping into his seat "now I feel bad for making you wait so long." He says with a- is that a kicked puppy face? You didn't even know it was possible on him.
You instantly start feeling bad "Oh no worries, I didn't even feel the time pass!" I was fairly occupied anyways "Oh! I heard a lot of noise out there, what was going on?" You smoothly switch subjects, grabbing a hold of your burger and taking a bite.
"Hn? Oh yeah, the smoke alarm was ringing in multiple branches but there wasn't a fire in any of them, the system was pranking us I guess." He stabs his steak and starts cutting it "I tried to go back right after but Grace came to find me cuz something was acting up, so I go on a detour to her lab, we got there and whatever she needed a hand with just righted itself so I hurried back." He takes a bite of meet and waits till he's swallowed it to continue "You sure I didn't take too long?"
You smile "Really it's fine, it wasn't that long at all."
For the first seven to ten minutes of you two sitting together again, you both give your undivided attention to your food filled trays. Finally, after devouring an entire burger you break the silence "I'm gonna be honest with you, Anton, I had you all wrong when I first saw you this morning." You say between mouthfuls of fries, keeping one hand in front of your mouth whenever there's food in it and you need to talk.
Anton grins at your admission, taking a sip of his drink before replying "Hah, yeah, I can tell. You were giving me the eye roll of all eye rolls this morning. I take it you've changed your opinion of me now then?"
"Well, you have a very imposing build and with your resting scowl face I thought you'd be... Well nevermind, turns out you're someone who helps those in need... you also got a nice laugh." You end softly.
You hear a utensil drop, and you look up to see Anton's fork fell onto his steak, but more interesting was the deer caught in headlights look he was giving you.
Just as fast as it comes however he pushes it away, regaining his composure in record speed "Ha! I can see why you thought that. I do have a bit of a mean mug when I'm not smiling, though I've been told my laugh sounds like a bear's roar, so the nice laugh bit is definitely a first!" He grins at you, and you wonder if the lighting is playing tricks on you because you think there's some light redness at the top of his cheekbones. He then continues "But you're right, I do try to be helpful and kind, especially to those in need. And I'd like to think my sense of humor isn't half bad either."
You're not sure how to respond to that, the man has been nothing but forthcoming and honest with you all day while you've been... not.
Instead, you glance at the wall clock and say "I think I need to head out soon." As you clean off the last of your fries. "I came here for a job interview but I somehow ended up meeting you and uh- I really enjoyed it! I just wouldn't wanna walk back home too late in the dark y'know?"
"Anton looks at the time on his phone and nods in understanding."
"Yeah, it is getting late. It's not safe to walk around at night, especially for short stuff like you. I don't want you getting lost between the cracks in the sidewalk or something." He gives you a playful smirk.
You go to reply, deadpan tone and expression at the ready when he interrupts you.
"But... if you want, I could always give you a ride home. I have a company car parked nearby."
You hesitate " ...you already payed for the meal, which I'll totally pay you back for by the way! So I don't want to trouble you more..."
Anton shakes his head and waves off your concerns "Nah, don't worry about it. It's just a meal, it's no trouble at all. And don't worry about paying me back either, consider it a welcome to the company gift." He grins, then leans in closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially "Besides, you wouldn't be troubling me. It's my pleasure to help you out, Shorty."
You sweat drop "What's the point of me giving you my name if you'll just keep calling me that?"
Anton chuckles at your reaction, clearly enjoying teasing you "Oh, lighten up a bit. I like giving nicknames to people. It's a nice way to bond, y'know? Besides, it's kind of fitting, don't you think? Given your, uh, petite stature."
You glance at his emptied out tray, the mountains of food he'd heaped onto it already gone "Well, the bonding experience can wait till tomorrow, if you're done, shall we get going?"
Anton leans back in his chair, patting his stomach with a satisfied smile "Yeah, I'm all done. Let's hit the road." He stands up and stretches, then motions for you to follow him "Come on, Shorty. Let's get you home safe and sound."
You follow after him "Tell me honestly, Anton." You say as he grabs his tray to place it on the racks nearby, when you go to grab yours he beats you to it and smoothly takes that one as well, stacking it on his.
"I could've carried that!" You whine.
Anton's infuriatingly attractive grin makes another appearance "Oh, I know you could've carried it. But I'm just being a gentleman, shorty. Can't have you doing all the hard work before you even start tomorrow, you'll get even tinier!" He ends, his tone is teasing as usual but his eyes softened up considerably, and the look he's giving you has your insides turning to mush.
You flush. "Uh- as I was saying, are you maybe a bear in disguise? Because you just cleaned off a mountain of food alone."
Anton laughs at your flushed expression and your playful accusation, the way he's keeping his composure somehow just feels unfair, though you guess for someone working in construction keeping his cool would be a must.
"Ha! Bear in disguise, huh?" He replies "Nah, I'm just a guy with an appetite. You know, working here, I need the extra energy." Then his grin turns cocky "Plus, it takes a lot of food to fuel all this muscle." He gives a playful flex, showing off his bicep with a smirk.
You give a playful eye roll "Oh wow, and you're so humble too!" You say flatly "What a catch wow!"
Anton lets out a hearty laugh at your sarcastic remark and gives you a playful salute "Oh, you know it. I'm the total package. Good looks, charm, wit, and the appetite to match." He grins, clearly enjoying the banter, which you've come to enjoy as well.
"But I'll have you know, there are quite a few women here who think so too."
You deadpan "Good for you. Give me there number, I'll help set you up."
Anton chuckles, then scratches his chin in mock thoughtfulness, then his expression turns into a grin and he gives you a playful nudge.
"But why would I need their number when I've got yours, Shorty?"
You blink "Huh? But I never gave my number...?"
"Yeah, not yet you didn't, but I have good intuition. Call it a sixth sense." He taps his temple with a wink. And it's telling me a certain cute Shorty is interested."
You flush harder "Well your sixth sense must be malfunctioning this time." You say walking ahead, trying to keep him from seeing your beat red face. Unfortunately, with how much taller he is, he catches up by the next second.
When he's by your side, he wastes no time laughing at your flushed face "Hah, you're forgetting who you're dealing with, Shorty. These long legs of mine give me an unfair advantage."
You don't reply.
"And are you sure my sixth sense is malfunctioning this time? Cuz you're lookin' real flustered."
"You're imagining things, maybe it's time to visit the eye doctor?" You huff.
"Oh? Is that so? Hm, maybe my eyes aren't as sharp as they used to be. Let me have a closer look, just in case."
He places one hand on your shoulder to halt your walk and leans in closer, making a show of examining your face.
Your eyes go wider then your older sister's saucers "Hmm strange, I'm getting a clear view of your rosy cheeks right now, and my sixth sense is telling me it's not from the cold."
You consider how to get the upper hand in this situation, but with your muddled mind it gets a bit tricky. You end up going with the first thing that comes to mind "You're right, it's from the heat, it's really getting hot in hear for some reason-" You start, before realizing belatedly how suggestive that sounded "Uh- wait no-" You flush further.
Anton grins at your unintentional innuendo, and raises an eyebrow, playing along "Oh really? Getting hot in here, hm?" He looks around, feigning innocence "Huh, seems like a comfortable temperature to me. Maybe it's just you, Shorty."
You cover your tomato colored face with your arms "Oh enough already, you win so just stop!"
Anton laughs and puts his hands up in mock surrender "Alright, alright, I'll stop. Can't have the cute shorty overheating on me now, can I?" in a quieter, more gentle tone, he adds, "But seriously, your blush is adorable."
You groan "Anton!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Anton pulls up outside your house in the company car and turns to you with a smile "Here we are, shorty. Home sweet home."
You nod "Thank you, and sorry for the trouble."
Anton shakes his head and waves off your apologies "No trouble at all, I enjoyed the company. Besides, I couldn't just let you walk home alone in the dark." He grins, then adds in a playful tone, "Especially not when you're such a cute Shorty."
You deadpan "Don't make me take it back." You consider something then say "Give me your phone for a sec."
Anton raises an eyebrow, but obediently hands you his phone "Sure, but why do you need it? You gonna put your number in without me asking?"
"Nice try. I'll give you my Inter Knot contact for work stuff. You're not high level enough to get my number yet."
"High enough level, huh? Am I just a lowly level one in your eyes right now?"
Not looking up from your typing you reply "You made it all the way up to level three on day one, Congrats! But your nickname for me is shorty, I don't know how to feel about that yet."
Anton laughs, seemingly amused by your rating system for him "Only level three? Damn, I was hoping for a higher rank. But you're right, the nickname 'Shorty' might be deducting some points."
He grins, then adds with a wink, "Maybe if I find a better nickname, I'll rank up higher in your eyes... or maybe I'll just keep calling you 'Shorty' just to annoy you."
You deadpan "Well that would be very in character for you wouldn't it?" You say handing him back the phone.
Anton takes it back with a smirk, clearly unrepentant for his nickname choice "Hah, you know me so well already, Shorty. I gotta admit, your deadpan face is just too fun to tease." He leans in closer, unable to resist poking at you further "Besides, the way you turn all tomato-red whenever you're flustered is just priceless."
You push his face back with your hand "Goodnight Anton, see you tomorrow." You say as you unlock the cat door and head out.
"Haha, goodnight, Shorty. Get some rest. Sweet dreams."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
And as you lock the car door and leave, Anton checks his phone, leaving the Inter Knot app to check the CCTV footage he has access to. The one that clearly shows you entering and leaving Grace's lab. He barely mumbles out "Till tomorrow then... Y/n. Hopefully I'll figure out what you're really up to soon."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hmm did I manage to make the reader subtly mysterious? 🤔 Tell me guys if y'all want a part two. LavenderLily you can tell me directly 👀
And as always, Free Palestine ❤️ 🇵🇸
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mikavlcs · 2 years ago
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Dinosaur Talks
Pairing: Wednesday Addams x reader
Summary: You like to talk about dinosaurs, and Wednesday likes to listen.
Warnings: soft/ooc!wednesday (does this even need to be said)
Word count: 0.8k
Notes: this is literally just for 🦕 anon. i hope you enjoy it, dino<3
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“The Mesozoic Era, also known as the Age of Dinosaurs, is comprised of three periods—the Triassic, Jurassic, and Cretaceous periods. The first real dinosaurs actually emerged in the middle of the Triassic period—aw, come on, Thing. A draw four? Really, man?”
Calm, somehow smug-sounding taps sounded from atop her bed followed by low mutterings about betrayal, but Wednesday paid it little mind.
Her fingers flew across the keys of her typewriter with a rhythm and purpose she had become well acquainted with. She was in what many referred to as the zone—when words surged from her like the rapids of a raging river.
It was a state of being achieved by having complete, unrelenting attention to the task at hand. A familiar feeling when it came to her writing.
You were in a similar state. Though instead of writing out the gory details of a detective’s crime scene like she was, you were entrenched in your ramblings about prehistoric creatures.
An interesting sight, but not an unfamiliar one to Wednesday or really anyone that knew you.
It was no secret that for whatever reason, you were very fond of dinosaurs.
They were a special interest of sorts, something you were exceedingly passionate about, and though she herself cared little about reptiles gone long extinct, she indulged you for reasons not entirely yet known to her.
“Fascinating,” she responded evenly, allowing her mind to file the information away with all of the other technically useless dinosaur-related factoids you’d voluntarily offered up over the months she had known you.
You shot her a smile that likely would’ve blinded her if she were looking directly at it. “I know right? How about you, Thing? You think it’s fascinating?”
Wednesday could picture him giving you an excited thumbs up in response, and the airy laugh you let out all but confirmed it.
“Okay, it’s your turn, bud. Yeah, I’ll keep going,” you took a breath, sat up a little straighter. “The Triassic period ended with an extinction event. A bunch of sudden, widespread volcanic eruptions wiped out all Triassic archosaurs apart from dinosaurs, pterosaurs, and crocodiles. This ushered in the…”
You trailed off slowly, animated frame going oddly still in her peripheral. 
The abruptness of it made Wednesday spare you the smallest of glances, and she found you looking back at her, brows drawn, and bottom lip tucked between your teeth.
“Actually, uh…nevermind, I’ll save it for later. After you’re done writing.” You flashed a small smile then turned back to your game with Thing.
Quiet embraced the room. The only sounds that could be heard were the shuffling of cards and the occasional taps from Thing. And Wednesday should have been happy about the newfound peace, should have been able to put even more focus on her work. But she couldn’t.
Because suddenly, it was as if there was a dam halting the natural flow of her artistic river, causing the joints in her fingers to stiffen and her mind to go frustratingly blank.
Usually, it was the opposite. Enid’s incessant noise was a notorious distraction during her writing time and though she’d grown somewhat attached to her roommate, there were times when she wished she had a muzzle on hand so she could have just a moment of tranquility.
And yet now that she had the silence she normally longed for, she didn’t want it.
Her mind instead craved the timbre and intonation of your voice when you spoke about something with immense fervor. The space felt empty without it.
With a silent sigh, she set her hands on her lap and turned to you, momentarily giving you her full attention. “And what of the Jurassic period?”
Your head whipped to the side. “Huh?”
“That is the period that follows the Triassic period, correct?” she prompted.
You blinked a few times, clearly unsure, but an expectant raise of her brows was enough for you to take the extended olive branch.
“Well, yes,” you started up again, tone excited but informative, “the Jurassic period is indeed what followed the Triassic period, and thanks to Jurassic Park, it’s the most identifiable of the three. It was during this period that the first gigantic sauropod and theropod dinosaurs appeared—"
You looked away to continue your card game with Thing, words never faltering in the process, but Wednesday’s eyes stayed on you for just a bit longer.
Your ardor for these stupid dead animals was not cute—she refused to ever allow that word into her personal vocabulary—but it was something akin to that. 
Endearing, perhaps. Possibly charming. Or maybe something even more…
No, that wasn’t a rabbit hole she was interested in diving into just yet, she decided.
Returning her gaze forward, she flexed her fingers experimentally, exhaling when she found them relaxed and ready, just as they were before.
Satisfied, Wednesday turned back to her typewriter and continued the paragraph she was working on, once again letting the currents of her creativity flow from her freely to the symphonically sweet sound of your voice.
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downtwngrl · 5 months ago
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INTRICATE.
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hi so it’s been a WHILE. uhhhh rewatched challengers for the thousandth time and it broke me out of my writers block! i don’t know how im going to continue w this, so feel free to drop any ideas and ill add it to the lore 😈 note: series prob isn’t gonna end with any smut scene bc im incapable of writing one without it sounding stupid asf! but who knows, you might be surprised
cw: 1.4k words,,, art and reader are dating but fighting, set in stanford era, tashi is NOT injured, patashi, hints of reader crushing on tashi but repressing it, fighting, tensiontensionTENSION! basically everyone is friends with one another but they all want each other BAD. lmk what else i should add :)
“it’s complicated.” that’s what you say every time someone asks you what your relationship with art donaldson is. and it’s true— you guys are fiery, but not explosive. complex, but not convoluted. it’s just… strange. intricate. hence, complicated.
you think he’d probably say the same thing, but there’s no real way to know, since you can’t exactly ask. the two of you aren’t on speaking terms right now, and for the same reason you two stopped talking last time, and the time before that.
art donaldson can’t split his time between his girlfriend and his fucking best friend’s girlfriend. and you can recite the argument quite well, maybe even word for word; it’s still fresh in your mind, engraved there.
“c’mon, you can’t just keep ditching me for her. it’s annoying, and it hasn’t just happened once or twice, you know.”
“i know.” art sighed, a hand tangled in his hair as if to ground himself. your name fell from his lips, voice cracking midway. “what do you want me to do? she needed help with her physics homework.”
“she can get one of her fucking groupies to help her! she’s a big girl, she doesn’t need to rely on you.” the way you said it, mocking and condescending, was mean, and you know it. you don’t hate tashi— you can’t even bring yourself to dislike her. but it hurts every single time you text art on your motorola and get hit back with some half-assed variation of ‘helping tashi. sry :( i’ll come later.’ he never actually shows up at ‘later’, which only rubs salt in the wound.
art’s jaw ticked. his eyebrows furrowed and eyes darkened in a way you’d only seen once before, when someone was talking shit about tashi in the cafeteria. you had watched as she calmly reassured art that is was fine, that he needed to relax, but he only shook his head and clenched his fists. in that moment, you wondered if he ever got that angry if he overheard someone talking about you. you now doubt it.
“don’t talk about her like that.” he said it calmly, but your skin still prickled. “she’s an accomplished lady. what about you? what have you done?”
if you sounded condescending before, it was nothing compared to how he sounded then. you scoffed away the sinking feeling in your stomach, blinked back the sting in your eyes. there was a lot you could have said to him then: ‘i might not be half as good at tennis as she is, but that’s less embarrassing than being second-best to her boyfriend.’ or ‘i didn’t compete for her number and lose.’ hell, even a good ‘fuck you’ would have sufficed.
instead, you just stood there, frozen, as he grabbed his stanford sweatshirt and left.
when you tell the story to patrick, he laughs, and doesn’t stop laughing until you jab him with your elbow, effectively knocking the oxygen out of him. his hands raise in mock surrender before speaking. “sorry, it’s just funny to see him get like this, i guess.”
you frown. “what’s that supposed to mean?”
“i mean that he likes you, but he likes tashi. i know it, tashi knows it, and from what i heard on the walk here—” he gestures vaguely towards the door to your dorm, “—the school knows it, too. i dunno, i guess it’s amusing ‘cause art has never been so disturbed about this kind of shit. usually he just picks the girl he likes best, but he can’t.”
“you mean he can’t because you’re dating her.”
patrick smirks his signature smirk. you have the urge to punch his teeth out; vagueness is beginning to be a pet peeve of yours. “no, i’ve told him that tashi is free reign.”
the way your stomach flutters at that is shameful. you push the feeling away. “like, you guys aren’t..?”
patrick shrugs. “i mean, currently she hates me because i said i’d go to her match yesterday and i missed it.” these guys really need to stop promising us stuff, you think. “but yeah, when she isn’t pissed off, we’re dating, and we talk about it. ‘bout you guys. she doesn’t really care if the two of you make moves on either one of us.”
you don’t say anything, but your ears feel warm, and your heart is about to explode out of your chest. it doesn’t help when patrick takes that as a sign to keep talking and says—
“i don’t care either.” it suddenly hits you, the closeness between you and him. close enough that you can smell his cologne, one typical of a rich frat boy you’d pass by in the halls. but it feels different, with him. patrick’s smirk has shifted into a grin, a big one. you realize he’s been gauging your reaction, and is thoroughly pleased.
“oh,” you breathe. he snickers, repeats it back playfully. you don’t understand how he’s so relaxed, able to make light-hearted jabs in this moment. art likes you and tashi. tashi doesn’t care if he likes her, or if you like her. patrick doesn’t either. but where do you stand in this?
your phone jingles, the sound muffled from the blood roaring in your ears. you don’t know if you should thank or curse out whoever decided to call you at this second, but you excuse yourself to answer. patrick nods begrudgingly, backs up enough for you to have room to finally start to inhale and exhale again. “hello?”
“hey.” it’s art on the phone. impulsively, you look around, as if he’s hiding somewhere in the dorm he marched out of a few days ago.
holy fuck. “hey!” you sound too cheery to your own ears, and hope that over the line it sounds more convincing. you hear a sigh on the other end, and can imagine art physically loosen. “what, uh— i thought you were mad. at me.”
patrick perks up. ‘art?’ he mouths, and you nod. he attempts to come closer, but you swat at him, moving a few steps away. he pulls a face, but doesn’t move closer. still, he’s definitely trying to hear what art is saying.
“i was.” art laughs nervously, the sound tinny over the phone. “but you’re right. i fucked up. tashi… she isn’t my girl. i need to pay more attention to you, and that’s gonna happen starting now.”
she isn’t my girl. “she could be,” you think aloud. you tense. art chokes. patrick stifles a laugh.
“what?” you pray that he didn’t hear it. you had mumbled it, whispered it, there’s a chance it didn’t pick up. art says your name one, two, three times before you respond.
“sorry, i just zoned out a little.”
“no, you said something. baby, what’d you say?”
“i said ‘you should be’. like, you should be paying more attention, dumb joke, i was trying to sound threatening,” you slap your free hand against your lips to stop your word vomit, then your forehead as you reprimand yourself for acting so stupid.
art hums. “oh, okay.” it should relieve some on the tension in your shoulders, but it doesn’t. he usually laughs when you fluster, but he didn’t. is he unconvinced, or are you overthinking? “hey, tomorrow can you come to my practice at noon? we can go to the cafeteria after, i’ve got wayyy too many meal credits.”
you look to patrick for help, but he shrugs, enjoying the moment. “sure.”
art says his goodbyes, goes ‘mwah!’ through the phone (which usually makes you laugh, but now you feel bad), and once you say bye, he hangs up.
“i’ll go to his practice, too.” it’s never a question with patrick (or with tashi); he just lets you know. “tashi’ll be there. she’s always on the court when she’s free.” you find it endearing that he knows her schedule.
“tashi.” you like the way her name rolls off your tongue, but you’d rather die than admit it.
before you can say anything else, patrick walks over, swings an arm around your shoulders and pulls you close. “don’t forget about what i said.” his breath smells like spearmint gum, the type art is always chewing. maybe he gave him a piece. “just think on it, yeah?”
you nod, and he pats your cheek before walking out the door, leaving you feeling dazed. after a few moments of just laying on your bed, soaking in the conversation you just had, your phone dings.
we’ll see u tmrw :-) -pat (&tash)
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12triceratops · 7 months ago
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Where the rubber meets the road.
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These two didn't just have a relationship, they had a (soul)utionship. "The Prophecy" Hand on the throttle Thought I caught lightning in a bottle...
What these two had was magical. There is no debate that Karlie Kloss and Taylor Swift were electric: (I am using past tense for the moment, I will refer to them in present tense a bit later in the post)
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Fast forward a decade later to Fortnight. This record did not hit me immediately the way "Folklore" and "Evermore" did, It has almost been a week since its release and I hadn't been fully onboard with TTPD. I was expecting something different, something not familiar and I had quite literally thought maybe Jack Antinoff and Taylor Swift had reached their limit together as collaborators. The music produced by Aaron Dressner had flavors and connections to "Folklore" and "Evermore," while parts of the album was reminiscent of "1989." My next thought that maybe the three of them had done all they could do.
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And then the Matty Healy conversation exploded across the net (le sigh), and I just about gave up on the record.
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I damn near had a sanguinary struggle within myself over The Tortured Poets Department (I know, that is very dramatic lol), and then I finally got it. The brilliance of this woman is unmatched.
The last song "The Manuscript." Now and then she rereads the manuscript Of the entire torrid affair
"The entire torrid affair" meaning the last decade (probably longer, but I am sticking with 2014-2024). The title isn't lost on me and many others - The Man-U-Script.
The last segment of the song
The only thing that's left is the manuscript One last souvenir from my trip to your shores Now and then I reread the manuscript But the story isn't mine anymore
She is closing the chapter on all of it. It's over, the countless theories, the stories we all have created about her. They're our stories now, we built them into a formidable, monstrous entity that took on a life of its own. "The last souvenir" are her words to us on this album. From the Swifities, to the Gaylors/Kaylors, to the haters, critics, industry, fans, media. She won't play this game anymore. Taylor gave enough clues on this album to make EVERYONE'S theory plausible (Karlie, Joe, Matty, Travis, Harry, Kim etc). She connected threads to come full circle, which brings us back to "1989," that 1980s syth-pop (hello! "I Can Do It With A Broken Heart"). This is why she and Jack Antonoff brought us back to where it all began, Karlie Kloss and #Kissgate (Dianna Agron, too, who can forget "Wonderland). Aaron Dressner summons moments within this records of the two albums that fractured my soul, F & E. That folky-pop melody that gets into your skin to change the DNA. No joke, I sobbed listening to "Folklore" and "Evermore."
With TTPD, Taylor comes in like a thrashing, tumultuous storm; at times seething and others admonishing. She is singing to herself, for herself and without need of approval from the mainstream radio (or anyone else). TTPD is messy, too much, not enough, vulnerable, real, relatable and she is tired of our collective shit.
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Back to "The Manuscript" This Era has come to an end and she is leaving us with the ruins, the aftermath of what she went through: being forced to hide who she really is, having to placate the rabid fans who believe the stories of every boy she has ever dated. She has had zero privacy and the only safe place Taylor has ever had was her music, she is the ONLY one who knows to whom she sings. Does she love her fans, of course, but Mother is tired and done. She is ready to come clean and live the life she has crafted to keep in secret in order to protect the innocent.
The beards, NDAs, slight of hand, she is smashing all that we know. It's not her reflection she seeks to shatter, it's the illusions. In "Fortnight" the nurse, a woman (cannot convince me that it's not Karlie. A doorframe is 6'8" and that nurse is about 5" shorter that frame, which would make that person 6'3" :), comes to save her, gives her the key to set her free. The men in the video are the ones who are torturing her. Like the last 10 years, The poet has been tortured by the department of men: Joe, John, Conner, Jake, Harry, Calvin, Tom, Joe, Matty, Travis, Scooter, Scott, and the list goes on.
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It's "Robin" that has got a choke-hold on me.
Buried down deep And out of your reach The secret we all vowed To keep it from you in sweetness
She is singing to a child, a kid, and I am going to say a little boy. Is this song about Levi? I am going to say yes. Hands down the gem of the album, and our cue to realize she is telling us what is next, her family, the loves of her life: Karlie and the kids. That is what she wants and that will be her next chapter. We struggle to interpret the Taylor that is always ten steps ahead of us. Her Eras Tour, this will be the last one for a while. Once it has wrapped, I wouldn't be surprised if she disappeared for a spell. Will she produce more work, sure. Perform, probably, but this last decade has taken a toll, and this tour has been a herculean effort. Hence, its wild success. Could she retire (FLORIDA)? It's possible, but she would never tell us, we would have to figure that out for ourselves.
I have more to say, but it's late and I am sleepy. As I get lost in the piano of "The Manuscript" I am reminded of the book "The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo"
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Not sure if anyone is going to see or read this, but I needed a place to write my thoughts about this extraordinary album that I almost let slip through my fingers. Good night and sleep well everyone <3
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dixons-sunshine · 5 months ago
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Not An Abomination | Vamp!Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader
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Summary: Coming across the church seemed like a real blessing to your group. The priest was nice enough to open the doors and showed you all nothing but kindness—that is, until he made the ingenious move to insult Daryl.
Genre: I don't really know, but there's some fluff towards the end.
Era: Post Terminus.
Warnings: Swearing, mentions of blood and death.
Word count: 2.1k.
A/n: I didn't have the time to rewatch the episodes of the church again, so I improvised. Hope that's okay lol. Anyways, I hope you like this!
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“You have a beautiful baby,” the priest, Gabriel, told you as you walked around, scanning the interior of the church. “She's truly a blessing from above.”
You turned around to face the older man, Judith clinging to you and fiddling with your necklace as a way to keep herself entertained. You glanced down at the almost one year old little girl before looking back up at Gabriel. “Oh, she's not mine.” You jiggled the baby a bit when she started fussing, pulling a funny face at her and successfully coaxing a giggle from her. You smiled fondly and smoothed some of her wispy hair, before shifting your attention back to the priest. “Rick's her father. Her mother... She passed away during childbirth.”
“I'm so sorry to hear that,” Gabriel responded, a look of sadness spreading across his face. “But she's in much better hands now. The Lord will take care of her now.”
“The baby or her mother?”
Gabriel smiled and clasped his hands in front of him. “Both. The Lord is good to everyone, here on earth or in heaven.” The priest looked up at the wooden cross and sighed in content. “He's been good to me, and I haven't always deserved it.”
You looked at Gabriel thoughtfully. “What are you—”
“Rick! People! They've got guns!” Glenn suddenly called out from somewhere outside the church. His words barely reached your ears before bullets came flying through the windows.
Instinctively, you ducked down behind one of the seats and covered Judith's small body to protect her from any stray bullets. Judith let out a loud cry, her small fists clutching your shirt in distress. Gabriel hid with you, panicking. Making a quick decision, you handed Judith over to the priest and grabbed your gun from your waistband.
“Go to your office and lock the door!” you shouted, disabling the safety on your weapon and cocking it. “I'll cover you. Keep her safe!” You stood up and started shooting at the ambushers. When Gabriel made no effort to make a run for the office, you raised your voice again. “Are you fucking deaf?! Go!” You shot at a person climbing through the window. “Fucking GO!” Gabriel finally scrambled up to his feet and adjusted Judith in his arms. With one last look to the chaos that unfolded in his church, he made a break for his office.
With Judith out of immediate danger, your attention fully shifted to the intruders. You ducked back down when more bullets flew in your direction. You felt a hand grip your shoulder and you quickly whipped around, your gun raised to shoot at the person or walker. However, you were instead met with the striking blue eyes of the man you had come to develop feelings for. On closer inspection, however, you could see flecks of red seeping into the blue, a clear sign that he hadn't fed in days.
“S'jus' me!” Daryl assured you quickly. When you visibly relaxed, Daryl grabbed your hand and pulled you up with him. The two of you ran towards the door and hid behind the wood. Daryl shot his crossbow at one of the people outside before moving to hide again. “Ya see anybody in our group yet?”
“No. They were all checking the back of the church for that bus Abraham saw when all of this happened.” You gasped when a bullet broke through the wood and nearly grazed the side of your face. The only reason it didn't was because Daryl's senses alerted him to the danger and he pulled you back at just the right moment. “Shit. Thanks.”
“Dun' mention it.” Daryl gently grabbed your gun out of your hand and took a shot at the person, successfully hitting them right between the eyes.
Everything fell silent after that. No more gunshots could be heard, and that made you let out a sigh of relief. Slowly, you crept out of the church with Daryl following closely behind you, his trained eyes scanning for any threats that could still linger. However, once you caught a glimpse of your group, every member relatively unscathed, you sped up your pace and rushed over to them.
Michonne was the first to notice you. She gasped in relief and brought you into a tight hug, one which you reciprocated in an instant. When you pulled away, you were tackled in a hug by Carl, which made you chuckle in surprise.
“I thought you died in there,” he told you when he pulled back, taking a step back to grant you your personal space again. “We heard yelling and thought that they got you.” He stopped once he realized that Judith wasn't with you. “Judith? Where's—”
“She's fine,” you instantly reassured both him and Rick, who you saw was anxiously looking at you for an answer. “She's with Gabriel. They're locked in his office. He—”
Suddenly, a loud bang of a gunshot could be heard, and it was closely followed by a sharp pain shooting through your arm. You cried out in agony and instantly gripped your arm, nearly tumbling down to the ground. Michonne quickly steadied you, however, and you turned around while being brought tightly against her side in a protective gesture while the rest of the members of your group reloaded their weapons.
A man stood a few feet away from you, his body bloody and a gun being shakily held in his hand. He quickly cocked the gun again to attempt another shot at someone before he was ultimately killed, but his attempts were quickly proven futile. Without so much as a noise, Daryl stood behind him in seconds. His fangs elongated and the archer sunk them into the ambusher's neck.
The guy cried out in pain, but it was soon silenced when Daryl snapped his neck with little to no effort. The archer hesitated for a few seconds longer, savouring the taste of the blood for a few moments before withdrawing, letting the dead man fall down to the ground. Daryl slowly turned back to look at all of you, expecting to see terror written across all of your faces, but was relieved when he was instead met with looks of gratitude and understanding.
“Good Lord.”
Everyone's attention was diverted to someone standing behind Daryl. The archer turned around and locked eyes with the priest, who looked at him with the terror he had expected to see on all of your faces. Gabriel was holding Judith close to his chest, and Daryl was sure if it wasn't for the fact that he was holding the baby, Gabriel would've bolted by now.
“Gabriel, I'm gonna need you to calm down,” Rick began, slowly walking towards him with an outstretched hand. Everyone else closely followed behind, ready to offer your leader support should he need it. “There's no need to start acting irrational here.”
“Irrational?” Gabriel asked rhetorically, laughing in obvious terror. “How would I be the irrational one here? This... thing killed that man with his bare hands. He snapped his neck like it was nothing. And he drank his blood! That's not normal. That's... That's the work of the devil.” Gabriel took a fearful step back, looking at Daryl, who had blood messily dripping down from his mouth. “You're the devil! I let the devil into God's house. You're something that I've only ever heard tales about. You're a monster. You're an abomination.”
Daryl pursed his lips and ducked his head in shame. However, he raised his head again when he saw someone move past him. He saw you standing in front of Gabriel and gently taking Judith from his arms. He didn't miss the way you hissed in pain when you held the baby in your arms, or the way you winced when you handed Judith over to Carl and the boy accidentally touched your arm. He also certainly didn't miss the way you spun back around and clocked the priest right in the face, his nose crunching under the harsh pressure of your knuckles.
“Fucking hell!” you cried out in pain. You realized a little too late that you probably shouldn't have used your injured arm to swing that punch, but there wasn't anything you could do about it now. Daryl was by your side in seconds, looking you over and assessing the damage that dead bastard inflicted on you with that bullet. Luckily, it was only a graze, but he knew it would still hurt like hell. You looked at him and gave him a reassuring smile, your heart fluttering at the archer's obvious care. “I'm fine, I promise.”
“Let's get one thing straight,” Rick began, recapturing your attention, as well as Daryl's. “I don't care what your beliefs are or how you choose to honour them, but with us around for the foreseeable future, we're not gonna take this shit again. Daryl is one of us. He stuck his neck out to protect this place. He didn't have to do that for you. He killed that man because he shot one of our own.” Rick motioned towards you before continuing. “How he did it doesn't matter. What he is doesn't matter. What he needs to eat or drink to survive doesn't matter. He's part of our family, and nothing is going to change that, not even the fact that he's a vampire. Now you have a problem with that, I promise you, we have absolutely no problem with leaving you to the walkers next time.”
With that, Rick stalked off towards the church, everyone else closely following behind. Gabriel cowered under everyone's harsh glares, recoiling with every harsh word thrown his way.
“Fucking asshole,” Maggie voiced, glaring at the priest distastefully.
“Gon' leave you to die next time, shitdick.” Abraham closely followed behind Maggie, soon disappearing into the church.
“Ungrateful ass,” Michonne spat angrily, her glare burning into the side of Gabriel's head.
You and Daryl were the last ones to enter the building. The archer lead you to one of the benches to sit down, taking your arm in his hand and carefully examining the graze more closely this time. You hissed in pain when Daryl twisted your arm too hard, and he sent you an apologetic look.
“Sorry,” he apologized.
You shook your head and sent him a small smile. “It's okay.” Daryl hummed before chuckling, making you frown. “What's so funny?”
“Nothin',” he quickly deflected, shaking his head. “Jus' amazed how ya got shot and ya still managed to put a guy on his ass.”
You laughed and shrugged. “I wasn't about to let that asshole call you an abomination. You're not. I hope you know that.”
Daryl didn't believe that, but he wasn't about to ruin the mood with his insecurities, so instead he just nodded. “Yeah, I do.” He grabbed the piece of red fabric that he always kept on his person and held it over your wound to stop the bleeding, making a mental note to go get some water later to clean the wound somewhat until he could find something better. “Still amazed tha' ya put a guy on his ass when ya were shot, though.”
You giggled. “What can I say? I'm just amazing like that.”
You were only joking, and Daryl knew that. However, you certainly didn't know how right you were to him. You were amazing. You were so amazing to him. And someday he hoped that he would be able to express to you just how amazing he thought you were.
However, not at that moment. No, at that moment, he'd simply enjoy your company, and be happy about the fact that the people he had come to care for so deeply didn't view him as the monster he saw himself as. That meant so much more to him than any of you would ever know. Just for that small moment, even though dead bodies were littered outside the church and everyone had just narrowly escaped being shot at, he was at peace.
However, something always came along to disturb that peace, because later that night, when everyone was celebrating and making plans to head to DC, you and Daryl were speeding off after a car, with only one objective in mind; you had to save Beth.
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upsidedownmvnson · 5 months ago
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♥️ Hi!! Can we get a cute lil story with Buckley and Harrington trying to convince reader that eddie is into them, two oblivious jealous dorks in love? Would love this!!
"Squish that cup anymore and you're gunna be wearing your drink," Steve said, sliding up beside you by the pool table.
You were all in Steve's basement, drinking to celebrate the end of an era, yours, Nancy's and Robin's graduation. But all you could focus on was Eddie, and the girl he'd been talking to this whole stupid party.
"Yeah, well," you sighed, chugging the entire content of the drink, "problem solved."
Robin snorted, sliding up on the other side to flank you. "You know they're talking about the chem homework."
"Since when does Eddie care about homework?" you mumble, wishing you had more drink in your cup.
"He doesn't," she said, "but Dustin told him that making you jealous was a good idea."
"What happened to easing them into it?" Steve asked, cocking an eyebrow at Robin.
"That was easy, I could've called them a dummy."
"I think you just kinda did," Steve said.
"Do you guys need me for this or...?"
"Look, maybe you should go over and talk to him," Robin said, bumping your shoulder with her own. "and then you wouldn't have to feel so jealous."
You nearly choked. "Jealous? Who is jealous? I'm glad actually. I think it's great, Eddie should be talking to girls at parties, it's like... it's so great."
"Okay, you can't really think we believe that." Steve laughed, watching the girl touch Eddie's arm, and noticing how your fist clenched by your side.
"What do you want me to do? He doesn't want me," you said, "he doesn't want me."
"Okay, now I'm going to call you a dummy," Robin sighed, she turned you to face her, and with a slight shake of your shoulders she said, "I can't take it anymore, you both love each other. It's so obvious. And you're so... oblivious!"
"We can make this happen faster, you know. Play mind games," Steve said.
"I don't want mind games," you scoffed.
"Okay, not mind games per se, just uh, evidence, we'll call it evidence. Just trust me, okay? Bet I can make him come over here in under a minute." Steve smiled, and then wrapped his arm around your shoulders. Robin chuckled, and found a place with Nancy on the other side of the room. Steve kept his arm around you and leaned close to your ear and whispered, "stop looking confused, smile and look down."
Out of sheer curiosity, you did. You chuckled, his breath tickled your ear. And you tried not to glance over at Eddie.
Eddie couldn't even pretend to care about what this girl was saying anymore. Dustin was an idiot for convincing him to try and make you jealous. It was juvenile, really. When you chuckled, he was barely in control of his feet as he walked away from that girl without saying anything, and felt himself be carried over to you guys.
"What're you guys talking about?" he asked, watching as Steve slid away from you.
"Nothing really," Steve said, laughing. "Oh - chips are empty again, I better go host."
As Steve walked away, Eddie took his spot, leaning beside you.
"Was it really nothing? It seemed... flirty."
"Uhm, actually... he said he could get you to come over here in under a minute. He did it in about 20 seconds."
Eddie glared over at Steve, who's back was turned. He bit the inside of his lip, "well, I didn't like it."
"You're right, it was stupid. I told him I didn't want -"
"No, I mean I didn't like him touching you like that."
"Oh," you said, not knowing what to say.
Eddie looked nervous, but he took a deep breath and said, "I was trying to make you jealous. But I probably should've just told I..." he took a slow breath, "I want to take you out sometime. Like a real date... if you want that?"
"Yeah," you blushed, looking at your shoes and kicking nothing, softly with the tip of your toe. "I want that."
And Eddie didn't say anything else, just intentionally bumped his pinky against yours... blushing lightly when he did it back.
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seeingivy · 1 year ago
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high infidelity
satoru gojo x f!reader
do you really wanna know where I was april 29th?
**part of my satoru as taylor swift songs series
content: infidelity (omg who knew), yn is a doctor, satoru gets injured and haha ur still my emergency contact's his way back into your life, megumi and yuuji flirting side quest, a big hot flaming mess of writing this is actually so bad
an: no one say anything to me about this fic actually. or the fact that I made everyone do a poll about which taylor as gojo to write just to not write either of those options and produce a flaming, hot wreck of garbage. anyways, live love high infidelity this song will always be special to me because on april 29th, I was indeed, at the eras tour seeing mother for the first time
--
You swallow hard as the waitress walks up again, with that sheepish, awkward smile on her face. And you dread the unrelenting, embarrassing question that’s going to follow. One that she’s already asked, three times. 
“Are you still waiting for someone or would you like to order?” 
And you’re not sure why, but the fact that she asks the question, in that phrasing, in that tone, is enough to aggravate the very thin patience you already have. Because really, it’s quite possibly the stupidest question she could have asked. 
Clearly, you are still waiting for someone. You’ve been sitting here for the past hour and a half. If you were really intent on eating at this restaurant alone, then you would have ordered the second they seated you. 
And it’s rude, abrasive even. To ask, to relentlessly question, three times. Because obviously, you feel horrible for taking the table, when there’s a line of people patiently waiting by the door. And it’s not your fault that your boyfriend is late. And really, it’s just humiliating, that she keeps throwing it in your face, that you’re sitting here, alone when he should be here making you feel special. 
You sigh, giving her a halfhearted smile. 
“Can I have twenty more minutes? I promise I’ll leave after that and let you give the table to someone else.” 
She smiles, genuine and sweet, as she places her hand on your shoulder and makes a promise to bring some more bread before you leave. 
The premise of it - the fact that she smiled in earnest and must know that you feel horrible, that she has her own deposit of pity for you - has you bringing your fingers up to your forehead and massaging that small, pulsating feeling by your temples. Because here you were, mentally cussing out the poor girl working minimum wage at the restaurant when the real subject of your wrath couldn’t even be bothered to show up. 
And you hate that the negativity, the frustrations of the situation, seem to bleed into everything else. Because you’ll find yourself being upset with Yuri, but then suddenly it turns into a blind agitation to everything. The barista, for not making your coffee right, your co-workers asking to switch shifts so they can go on a trip with their partners, the laundry machine when it stops working. 
Your phone starts incessantly buzzing on the table, the smallest glimmer of hope sparking in your chest at the sound. And instantly dies, when you realize it’s just the Emergency Room calling you. 
You slide open the call, pressing the phone to your ear. 
“This is Tokyo Metropolitan Hospital. Is this a miss Y/N L- wait.” Megumi states into the phone, mumbling off the speaker. 
You press the phone harder to your ear, to try to catch the end of the conversation that Yuuji must be having with Megumi. 
“Y/N. Right, hi!” he states, voice halfheartedly cheery, which is already odd enough for him. 
“Hi Megumi. Why are you calling me on my day off?” you deadpan, that backlogged deposit of irritation coming in hot and fresh for the sweetest resident you have. 
“Right. Um, we have a mister Satoru Gojo in the Emergency Room who has you listed as his Emergency Contact. He’s kind of in bad shape so we were going to call regarding-” 
“Gojo? I’ll be there in ten.” you respond, shoving the phone into your purse and leaving the tip flat on the tablecloth. You give the waitress - standing there with that restocked bread in her hand - a polite wave on the way out and speed as fast as you can to the hospital. 
--
You march into the ER, rubbing warmth into your biceps, to find Megumi at the nurses station, as always, flirting with the pink haired student nurse he’s taken a keen liking to. 
“Hey. Where is he?” you ask, Yuuji and Megumi turning their heads to give you half hearted smiles. It’s only the start of the night shift, but by the way their shoulders are already sagging, you can tell whoever has to deal with them has a long night ahead of them.
“Right sooooo. We can’t decipher any of his paperwork. We need you to read it first and then you can see him. He’s in room eleven.” Yuuji states, giving a peachy smile, as you scan over Gojo’s characteristic illegible handwriting. 
“Jesus. He still writes like a twelve year old.” you murmur, filling out the sheet at the side with all the information Yuuji needed. 
“You’re all dressed up, teach. What’s the occasion?” Megumi asks, lazily leaning his cheek in the palm of his hand. 
“Ah. It’s my one year anniversary with Yuri. We were supposed to go to dinner.” you mumble, scratching the last of the information on the sheet and handing it to Yuuji. 
You feel a hand sling around your shoulder and a distinct smell of smoke, only to find Shoko hanging off your frame. 
“And yet here you are, because he didn’t show up.” she murmurs, earning you a set of wide eyes as you glare at Shoko. Because at their core, Yuuji and Megumi are first, definitely crushing on each other, and second, nosy as hell. 
“And here you are. Destroying every last cell in your lungs, that are eagerly, earnestly begging you to stop.” you deadpan. 
She flicks your nose as you finish filling out the sheet and reading through the paramedics report that was attached to his paperwork.
“Please tell me you attacked Yuri at the dinner table and that’s why you’re here. Fork to the hand? Spoon in the eye? Knife to the dick?” Shoko asks, excitedly. 
“Didn’t you like take an oath? For the preservation of human life?” Megumi deadpans. 
“No. I skipped that day of medical school.” Shoko replies. 
“Gojo’s here, I’m still his emergency contact.” you respond back, giving her a pointed glare. 
“What happened?” 
You turn your head expectantly to Megumi, who obliges. 
“His car got t-boned. He’s pretty roughed up.” Megumi responds. 
You give Shoko a weary look, as you march to the other side of the unit, preparing yourself for whatever roughed up version of Gojo you were about to be greeted with. Because every interaction with Gojo was a rush of emotions - good, bad, sweet, and ugly - but this might be the biggest thing you’ve ever had to stomach yet. 
“So. Who is this Satoru guy? I’ve never heard of him before.” Megumi asks Shoko, giving Yuuji an all knowing glance. 
“Her ex-boyfriend.” Shoko responds. 
“No way. Before that asshat Yuri?” Yuuji asks, suddenly too invested in the story all together. 
“Well, obviously. He taught as a professor at the same medical school she attended.” 
“Y/N dated a professor?” Megumi asks, tone incredulous.  
“I mean that’s one way to get through I guess.” Yuuji adds. 
Shoko smacks the top of Yuuji’s head, earning a fit of laughter from the two of them for his stupid comment. 
“You need to focus on your nursing exams instead of flirting with Megumi on your fifteen. It would do you some good to flirt with your preceptor. And no, he was just a fellow doing research at the time. They were best friends for a good few years, had that whole will they won’t they vibe going on.” Shoko responds. 
“So….did they?” Megumi asks. 
“They did. To be honest, I can’t really remember why they broke up. Something stupid.” Shoko shrugs, giving the two of them shoves on the shoulder before walking past the hall, to find you standing in front of the door. Your hand is resting against the handle, but you have yet to yank down and push yourself in. 
“Are you warming up the handle or…?” 
You’re thrown out of your train of thought to find Shoko at your side, hands buried deep in her white coat as she gives you a weary glance. To anyone else, Shoko would seem wildly disinterested, almost annoyed at how you were acting. But you know better and can see that small twinge of concern buried under her long eyelashes, the hint of it in her voice. 
“Oh. Um…no. Just got lost in thought.” you murmur, staring at the faded eleven on the marker. 
“About?” 
You swallow hard, the warm tears filling your eyes. 
“I haven’t talked to him in so long. And the last time we talked we were arguing over…..leaving dishes in the sink. Breaking up. If I walk in there and he’s dead, that’s going to be the last thing I ever said to him.” you whisper, air grating against your throat. 
Shoko puts a hand on your shoulder and squeezes once.. 
“He’s not dead. The monitor tech would have picked up on that.” 
“The monitor tech? Are we talking about the same monitor tech? Because Nobara is too busy flirting with the phlebotomist Maki to ever do her job. They’re worse than Megumi and Yuuji.” 
Shoko scoffs, before rolling her eyes at you. 
“No one is worse than Megumi and Yuuji. Yuuji knocked the entire crash cart over when he clocked in because Megumi complimented his Star Wars themed scrubs.” 
You snort, shaking your head, as you take a deep breath in and push the handle down. Shoko gives you a warm smile as you walk in and flick the lights on, only to see Satoru, sitting up in bed and lazily scrolling through the TV channels. 
He looks over at you first, his eyes going wide, as you walk up to him and cup the side of his cheek. The tears that were welling in your eyes are falling in full flesh, at the sight of him all battered and bruised. 
His snow white hair is matted red, an angry, glaring scratch on his forehead. His arm is littered with tiny cuts, with a good amount of dressing on his torso, the red blood already seeping through and the look on his face so broken and tired that it makes your heart twinge. 
“Satoru.” 
He smiles, albeit a little confused, as he looks up at you and brings his hand up to yours, where it’s resting against your face. 
“Hey princess.” 
You laugh through your sprout of tears, which has the smallest smile turning up on his cut up lips and the soft, faint smile lines appearing near his eyes. 
“You here to patch me up, doc?” he whispers. 
You shake your head incessantly, which has him rolling his eyes. 
“Not today.” 
“Shame. I heard having sex is really good for patient recovery.”
You smack his shoulder, biting hard down on your cheeks that Satoru Gojo, in full flesh, is okay. Because he still has the audacity to flirt with you, even when he’s near death in the hospital. 
“I’m going to look at your chart, okay?” 
You let go of his face and find yourself in front of the computer, logging in with your credentials, and trying to pull up his chart as fast as you can. 
“If I found out you got into this accident because you were trying to find the perfect song before you got home, I’m going to put your head on a stick, Satoru Gojo” you murmur, earning a laugh from him. 
“First and foremost, you always have to close the drive home on a banger. Sue me.” 
“I think I might just.” 
“And contrary to your beliefs, this accident actually wasn’t my fault. They crashed into me, naturally, because I do no wrong. Ever.” he states. 
“Right.” you chuckle. 
You read over the report, making it a point to berate Yuuji for his shitty charting later, as you look through his vital signs and blood cultures that were taken when he arrived here. 
“So do all doctors dress like they’re about to go clubbing or is it just you?” 
You look down, only now noticing that you’re still wearing the a-line dress from the dinner you were supposed to have with Yuri. You make a mental note to shoot him a text after checking with Satoru after, knowing all too well that with how busy Yuri is, you standing him up would throw him over the edge. 
“Just me. I really love to put on a show for my patients, Gojo. And what clubs are you going to where people dress like this?” you mutter, clicking through the scans that were taking. 
“I appreciate the lengths you go to for me. It’s always what I loved about you. And I exclusively attend Taylor Swift night at the Underground” he states, placing his hands on his chest. 
You look over and glare at him, before reading through the treatment plan. When you look over Nanami’s notes, you feel your heart drop and turn over to look at him. At his bright, blue eyes so wide and unaware, the look on his face so…innocent it bothers you. That in a few hours, he’s going to be in unspeakable pain while he recovers. 
The door opens and Nanami and Yuuta are standing at the door, Nanami already scoffing at you. 
“That’s confidential patient information, Dr. L/N.” Nanami states, voice stern. He hands you a jacket, which you pull on, as you hike your hands under your biceps and talk to him. 
“You were going to tell me all of it anyways. So…what’s the plan here?” you grumble, settling next to Gojo at the side of his bed, placing your hands in his nearly pink hair. 
“Well. I’m going to-” 
“The surgical resident has to be Yuuta, I don’t trust that dumbass Todo to do it. You have to use prolene stitches, I don’t want his skin to scar and don’t leave him under for too long. He’s never been one to suit medications well. Don’t play any rap music when you’re operating, he hates that type of stuff and-” 
Nanami puts his hands square on your shoulders, squeezing once. 
“Thank you, Dr. L/N. We’ll talk all details after, okay?” Nanami states, voice soft, as you turn over to look at Gojo. 
Gojo gives you a weak smile, which you return, before pushing his hair off of his forehead, and lightly brushing through the white tresses as he looks at them.
“Give it to me straight, Kento Bento.” Satoru states, earning an eye roll from Nanami who's clearly unamused. But you can tell he doesn’t mind it all too much, because in the monotony of shitty patients, he’s always been one to appreciate the sweet jokesters. And Satoru’s the biggest clown there is. 
“It’s a relatively easy procedure, Satoru. We’re just going to go in and repair the damage that you sustained to your digestive tract from the crash. Do you have any questions for me?” Nanami asks. 
“Can I request that she’s not in there when it happens?” Satoru asks, looking up at you. 
“Hey. I can-” 
“Yes. We’ll make sure of it.” Yuuta responds. 
“Thank you, Yuuta.” Gojo responds, giving him a smile. 
“We’ll be around in an hour to take you to surgery.” Nanami states, ignoring the pointed glare you were giving him as he strolls out of the room. 
You turn to Gojo, the overstimulation of the past ten minutes really hitting you, as you feel your brain short circuit while he’s looking at you. You try to focus on the sensation of his hair in your hand and that pulsating beat that you’ve been feeling for his wrist, but you can’t really process any of it. 
Every high and low you’ve experienced in the past few minutes - the elation in Gojo’s voice, the pain from seeing him suffering, how he’s still the same as you left him- it’s enough to abandon any rational thought processes from occurring in your head. And it leaves you standing there, silently, with your hands on him. 
“Hi Y/N.” 
“Hi ‘Toru.” 
He smiles at the nickname, reaching forward to lace his fingers through yours. 
“I was driving and then…I wasn’t. I looked up and all I could see was the stoplight above me, then the flashing lights of the ambulance, and now…you….looking at me like that. Your brain isn’t the only one hurting right now.” 
“Looking at you ike what?” you murmur. 
“Like you’re in pain, Y/N.” he states, emphasizing his syllables. 
You shake your head, fighting down that wave of worry that’s sitting in your skin. 
“You know, Kento’s a really good doctor. And Yuuta…he’s like the most promising surgical resident. And even then, I-I can get another senior surgeon if you don’t want a student. And-and it really won’t hurt that bad and I’ll make sure they give you all the good meds and-” 
“Y/N.” 
“Sorry. I’m sorry. I’m rambling. I know you’ve always hated that and I just-” 
“I don’t hate it. Just, slow down for a second…talk me through all this because I really don’t know what’s going on and you know I don’t like not knowing.” 
You pull up the chair, messing with his hands as you talk. 
“You have to get surgery. The impact you had when you crashed led to-” 
“Y/N. I know all of that already. I’m asking about you.” 
You frown, swallowing hard, as you run your fingers along the scratch on his knuckles.
“You never update your current information.” 
“Huh?” 
“You….you never canceled the stupid Hulu subscription when we got the Disney Plus bundle. And you kept having to trek all the way across town to get the mail, because you forgot to change the address when we moved, and you-” 
“I don’t really see how-” 
“You forgot to change your emergency contact, Satoru. After we broke up, you-you forgot to call them and tell them that they shouldn’t call me.” you hum, as Gojo’s hand tightens in it’s hold around yours. 
“Oh shit, Y/N. Sweetheart, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to-” 
You lurch up from your chair, tangling your arms around his neck as you crackle his head into your frame, that incessant stream of tears pouring down your eyes as he brings his own arms around yours. 
And it feels too fast, because suddenly Nanami and Yuuta are back at your sides, giving you sympathetic glances as they wheel Gojo away and you’re left standing in the hallway, flat against the wall, every horrible outcome of the next four hours playing through your head. 
--
On hour five, already a bad sign, you’re sitting flat against the floor with a jello cup in your hand and in Megumi’s spare pair of scrubs. They’re both sitting at your sides, the dead quiet of the night shift leaving them with you. 
“Kento likes to be really careful, Y/N. That’s all it is.” Megumi states, giving his best attempts at calm reassurance. 
“And Yuuta’s great. We all love Yuuta, he’s sweet….intelligent. He’s more than capable to do this.” Yuuji adds. 
You crack through every last bone in your finger, the entire interaction playing over in your head. 
“I-I just went in there so fast. And the time was so…so short that I didn’t even say much to him.” you respond, sighing. 
“When’s Yuri coming?”
You turn your head to the side, in confusion, before you register Yuji’s words all together. 
“Why would he-” 
You panic, remembering that you had never texted Yuri back, that he’s probably fuming in his own pit of rage right now at his apartment, cursing your name to god knows what degree. You reach for your phone in your pocket, only to find no notifications from him. You scroll up on the chat, only to find that he hadn’t texted you the entire day, yesterday. 
His last text read April 28th, a reminder that he needed you to pick up his drycleaning for his golf game this weekend. 
“He’s really an asshole, isn’t he?” you spit. 
You see Megumi and Yuuji give each other wide eyed looks over the top of your head, as you click your phone shut and let it fall to the ground. 
Because in the dim lights of this hospital, with Satoru’s blood, some of it still smeared on the side of your hand, you feel like you’re seeing clearly for the first time in years. 
That really, Yuri in actuality, is not the one for you. And it’s not that he’s a bad guy, he’s honorable in some sense really, but what he gives isn’t even a fraction close to what you want. 
He’s tall and lanky. The type of guy to represent every portion of the food triangle in the three meals he ate. He wakes up at five in the morning to go to the gym before an entire day at work, and still somehow finds time to read and run a personal wellness blog when he gets home. 
He’s classy, in every sense of the term. The exact type of man you envision when you think of someone put together, wholly and fully. On top of their shit, living their best life, one that people aspired to. 
And that was in no way what you wanted. 
You wanted Satoru. Satoru who convinces you that there’s still enough room for a little treat after dinner, despite the fact that you both stuffed yourself full at the restaurant. He sleeps in late on the weekends, pressing lazy kisses to your skin to wake you up before entirely botching the whole breakfast in bed thing he was trying to impress you with. 
He was real, in every sense of the term. The type of person you envision when you imagine the person you wanted to spend the rest of your life with. He’s funny, he’s kind and he most certainly would never leave you stranded at a restaurant on your one year anniversary. Because Satoru Gojo certainly wasn’t classy, but he was honorable. And if he promised to be somewhere, he’d be there early, making sure everything was perfect before you got there. 
And right now, two of your most trusted co-workers had their hands inside his body cavity, trying to fix the mess in there. 
--
When Gojo comes to, there’s an aching soreness in his torso and neck. He can feel the tense pressure around his arms too, bandages wrapped around every square inch of his body. But that warm feeling around his wrist was entirely different from the rest. 
He opens his eyes to find you, fast asleep with your head down on the side of his bed and your hand secured tightly around his wrist. Your breaths are slow, so deep in your sleep that you don’t even process Satoru moving around you amidst your slumber. 
He brings his hand down to your hair and watches you lean into his touch, nuzzling your head closer to the blanket. Your hair is messy at this point, bunched up at the top of your head in the messiest knot he’s seen you sport yet. 
There’s a knock at the door and Yuuji is standing there, a small smile on his face. 
“Good morning, Mr. Gojo. Welcome back.” 
Satoru smiles as he moves to his side and starts to hook him up to the monitors, taking a set of fresh vitals. 
“How are you feeling?” 
“Just sore, Yuuji. How are you?” 
“Ah. Night shift. Same old.” 
“Is that little emo you like here?” 
Satoru watches Yuuji’s cheeks go bright pink, as he starts fumbling with the cuff around his hand. 
“Ah, you mean, Megumi? Y/N’s resident? No, he-he’s off tonight.” he stumbles. 
“Shame. Nothing like flirting on the night shift.” Satoru states, clicking his tongue. 
“Oh, I don’t flirt with-” 
“Well, you should. He’s cute. And a doctor. Someone is going to snatch him up real fast.” Satoru states, definitively. 
“Mr. Gojo, I don’t know if-” 
“Trust me. I know all too well. People swoop in for the doctors before you can even fight to get them back.” Satoru states, reaching down to tuck your hair behind your ear. 
“Well, I-” 
“I’m just saying, kid. Swoop in before it’s too late.” he states, giving him a smile. 
“Yeah. Sure, I-I will. Do you need anything else, Mr. Gojo?” 
“Can you get her a blanket? She always gets allergies when it’s too drafty in the room she’s sleeping in.” 
Yuuji smiles, tapping on the railings of the bed. 
“Sure thing.” 
And Yuuji curses himself for doing it, for meddling, but he pokes his head into the room one last time before leaving. 
“And just so you know. You….sometimes you think it’s too late to swoop. But it’s actually like…the perfect time. To swoop….like a bird or something, I don’t know-” Yuuji stammers. 
And when Yuuji leaves and Gojo is able to process his words, he’s trying his best to wipe the smile off of his face. 
--
“Hey, Megs. How are his vitals today?” you ask, swiveling over in your chair. 
Megumi, irritated with your constant pestering, has had enough of his fill today. He swings his own chair around, tugging at the stethoscope around his neck, as he glares at you. 
“For the hundredth time, your little boo boo bear is just fine. We’re planning to discharge tomorrow.” 
You frown, reaching for the closest item - a roll of gauze - and throw it square in his face. 
“He’s not my boo boo bear. And I’m just checking. You know he could have complications after the surgery like inf-” 
“Infection, hypotension, septic shock, multiple system organ failure, yeah yeah. I know. I graduated top of my class at medical school, you know?” 
“And yet here you are, being taught by Shoko. You’re clearly not that great if you’re being trained by a girl who cheated her way through medical school.” 
“I’m going to leave. And when I’m gone, you’re going to be really pissed because you’re going to be stuck with some idiot that can’t even take vitals.” Megumi deadpans, swiveling back to his computer. 
“No, you’re not. You’d never leave your boo boo bear hanging. Especially since he’s planning on asking you on a date tomorrow.” 
“He’s not asking me on a date.” Megumi responds. 
You smile, trying to swallow your laugh as you respond. 
“Oh, sure he is. And-” 
Your phone timer goes off, as you gleefully sprint out of your chair, and down the hall to Satoru’s room. Nanami’s in there, unwrapping his bandages, as you knock and enter to make your presence known. At the sight of you, Nanami’s glaring as you drag the chair up and sit at his side. 
“Y/N. You should be working.” 
“I’m on my lunch. And I’m allowed to do whatever I want for lunch.” 
“You should eat something, Y/N. Instead of bothering our patients.” Nanami scolds, as he shuts the door behind you and you turn to Satoru. 
Satoru looks way better, the bruising on his skin fading to yellow and the cuts all around his skin healing. He’s smiling softly, a hand cupping your cheek as he talks. 
“Good morning, Y/N.” 
“Hi Satoru.” 
“You know, you really should eat something on your lunch break.” 
“You know, you really should keep your annoying opinions to yourself.” you respond. 
He scoffs, moving his hand to mess up your hair, as you swat his hands off. 
“So.” Satoru states. 
“So?” 
“A little birdie told me that you broke up with Yuri last night.” 
“Well, your little birdie was wrong. As nosy as he is, he clearly doesn’t know how to listen.” 
You both laugh, Gojo slightly dejected by your response, as you lace your hands through his, and smile at your hands firmly pressed together. 
“Yuuji’s got a bad case of the chismosa virus.” 
“And you don’t? I heard you giggling with Shoko at the nurses station about how the emo is going to ask Yuuji on a date.” 
“No, Yuuji's asking Megumi on the date. And okay, but that’s actually a big deal. I’ve been trying to set that up for months.” 
“Well, you can’t take credit because I’m actually the one who got Yuuji to do it.” 
You frown, reaching forward to pinch his cheeks. 
“Shut up. It’s only the months of build up, that I basically created, that’s making him do it.” 
“Well, I pushed him over the edge. So it’s my victory.” 
You sigh, sitting back in your chair as you smile at him, at how easily you both fall back into this. 
“How about we both did it?” you ask, giving him a smile. 
“Sure. We always did make a good team.” he responds, making your cheeks burn. 
You reach for his blanket and start moving his gown to inspect the incision, trying to make sure that the site wasn’t getting infected, from when you checked yesterday. . 
“Okay, pervert. I didn’t realize you were into voyeurism.” Satoru says, incredulously. 
“Gojo. Do you even know what voyeurism means?” 
“Yeah. It’s people who like to have sex in public.” 
You snort, moving the edge of the gown as you note the clean sutures, healing well along the length of his torso. 
“That is not what voyeurism means, dumbass.” 
“Sorry. I didn’t realize I was fighting with the sex kink expert here.” 
“I-I’m not a sex kink expert! You’re just fucking stupid.” 
“Oh, shut up.” 
You roll your eyes, as you settle back into the chair, reaching forward to cup his face. He smiles, soft and warm, which you return. 
“You’re healing really well. It’ll just be a faint line, right around your torso when you’re out of here.” you murmur. 
“It kinda looks like I got my legs cut off and someone sewed them back on.” he murmurs. 
“That’s not funny.” you deadpan, glaring at him. 
“Kinda funny. That’s a really unfortunate way to die.” he responds.
“I know there’s a universe out there where that actually happens to you. And I know for a fact that Satoru doesn’t think it’s funny at all.” 
“Okay, Doctor Strange. Let’s pipe down there, alright? Even if that did happen to me, I’d come back from it. Because guess what?” 
“Don’t say it.” you groan. 
“Because I’m the strongest.” 
“You know that never gets less annoying right?” 
“You love it.” he responds, reaching forward to pinch your cheek. 
You look down, at your hand tangled in Satoru’s as you find a way to broach the topic. That for all intents and purposes, that you want nothing to do with Yuri. That you want him, that you do love his stupid jokes, that you’d beg on your hands and knees for him to take you back because-
“Do you want to go to the aquarium on Friday?” Satoru asks. 
“The aquarium?” 
“Yeah. We can take a picnic basket, eat on the lawn outside afterwards.” Satoru says. 
You swallow the lump in your throat, aggressively nodding in response. 
“Yeah. That sounds nice. We can um-carpool.” 
“Sure. It’s a date.” he responds, leaning into his pillow with a soft smile on his face. 
You bite down the stupid smile that’s rising to your cheeks, as you close your eyes, humming in agreement. 
“Yeah. It’s a date.” you whisper back. 
--  
Eight days after the fact and Yuri, in his infinite wisdom, finally comes through. That’s when he musters the courage to bring himself to your apartment, where Satoru has been staying with you since he was discharged. And when Satoru answers the door, Yuri’s all levels of pissed. 
“Who are you?” Yuri asks. 
“I’m the owner of this house.” Gojo responds, trying not to laugh at his own joke. 
“Did Y/N move?” 
“No, dumbass. It was a joke.” he responds, rolling his eyes. 
Satoru leans off of the door frame, calling for you, as you join him at his side. 
“Hey, you okay? I was planning on making lunch for- oh.” 
Satoru smiles, reaching forward to ruffle your hair, before he shuffles away. 
“Holler if you need me.” 
You shoot Satoru a grateful smile, infinitely thankful that the two of you were able to pick up right where you left off, as you turn to Yuri in your doorway. 
“Where were you on Saturday?” he asks, arms crossed over his chest. 
You swallow hard, rehearsing the speech you had prepared with Satoru when you were tangled in his arms last night, and make your best attempt to deliver the blow the best you can. 
“Yuri. I think we should stop seeing each other.” 
“What?” 
“I just don’t think that we’re really compatible. You and I are…on different wavelengths. And you deserve someone who is better suited to you and your….interests.” you murmur, awkwardly rubbing your arms on your arms. 
In actuality, you feel a little bit bad. That technically, you might have been…a little bit dishonest with Yuri. Because you’re having this conversation with him, days after the fact, when you’ve already done god knows what with Gojo in the past few days he’s been back with you. He’s all but living in your apartment at this point, under the premise of needing twenty four hour medical support, when really, you’re both just soaking up on time you lost. 
Time is so precious, that you forgot to tell Yuri until he showed up, on your doorstep. You finally understand why Yuri was late to things, because whatever he was doing when he wasn’t with you, must have been keeping him occupied the way this was keeping you occupied. 
Because you kept planning on calling him, but then Gojo would take you out to breakfast. Or you’d sleep in too late and then knew that you’d be interrupting Yuri at work. And the list, it went on and on and led you to this moment and it’s painfully awkward. 
And maybe it’s bad, a little bit evil even, but that small bit of bad feeling is overshadowed by every bit of good that you’ve felt in the past few days. At Gojo ordering dessert out of nowhere, that he insists he’s sharing with you before he eats almost the entire thing, or when he drags you to the bathroom when he’s doing his night time hair care routine. 
“Where were you? On Saturday?” 
“Look, I just got called into work, okay?” 
“Are you…are you serious? Don’t tell me you’re really dating that dumbass who just answered the door?” 
“Frankly, it’s none of your business who I date anymore because you…you aren’t really a part of my life anymore. And we’re not dating, we’re just-” 
“God. He flashes one pretty smile at you and you go running back to him? Need I remind you, that you complained about him for months on end. About how he’s messy, he’s careless, he’s-” 
“That stuff doesn’t matter. At least not anymore.” 
“You’re a bitch, you know that?” 
You feel Gojo padding behind you, and you put your hand up in the air, signaling for him to stay where he is. 
“Do you really want to know where I was on April 29th? On our one year anniversary, I was sitting in a shitty restaurant, for an hour and a half waiting for you to show up. When I hadn’t heard from you all day. And then I got a call, that the man that I love was in the hospital, and then I was at his side. Willing him to wake up, because I would be so fucking angry, so fucking pissed if he died and I didn’t get to tell him that he meant the world to me.” 
Yuri swallows hard, the look of betrayal etched on his face. 
“Are you trying to hurt me right now? Do you get some kind of sick gratification from killing the one you love?” he asks. 
“I’d argue that my way is nicer actually. One fell swoop, with the truth out there. The slowest way to kill someone is never loving them enough. And honestly, it’s just cruel. And of course, something that you were too skilled at.” 
You’re not sure what it is about what you said, but suddenly Yuri’s stomping down the hallway and you’re shutting the door, as the tears start pouring out of your eyes and you’re leaning against the door. 
Now that Yuri’s gone, Satoru’s shed all his inhibitions and he’s cradling you straight in his arms, his soft voice cooing in your ear as you hiccup into his chest. 
“Hey. You did so good, princess.” 
“I-I’m not crying because I’m sad. I still…I still want you, you know?” 
Satoru smiles, bringing his hands up to cup your cheeks in his hand and wipe your tears away. 
“I know that, sweetheart. I’m irresistible.” he murmurs. 
You lightly shove him, before resting your head against his torso, hearing the rapid beating of his heart under your ear. 
“I’m just really relieved. That you-that you’re-” 
You look up, at his sparkling blue eyes, the tiny fractals of color like perfectly constructed, charted constellations in his eyes. 
“I’m glad you’re here. Again.” 
He smiles wide, leaning forward to press his lips to your forehead. 
“Me too, yeah?”
--
the satoru as taylor swift songs series masterlist
taglist:
@porridgesblog @k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06 @bsenpai @sweetenertea @skzismyhome @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @luna0713hunter @shotenvinsoot @itzmeme 
lmk if you would like to be added to my taylor as gojo or my general masterlist in the replies or inbox <3
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