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heyimkana · 7 months

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24 Hours with You (Satoru Ver.) - Ep. 1

Series Masterlist Chapter Summary: The first episode of a mini-series where you’ll live through the hours you spend together with your husband, Gojo Satoru. Pairings: Gojo Satoru x Female Reader Genre: Domestic AU, Fluff, Romance, Smut, Humor Word Count: 8K Warnings: whipped, clingy husband!Satoru, sassy!Y/N, shoujo manga inspired backstory, endless sex jokes, and overall cavity-inducing fluff with a little bit of smut at the end (no actual sex scenes...yet)

Episode 1: Morning

06.02 AM

Your very much-needed sleep abruptly comes to an end the moment your husband’s alarm—not yours—begins to ring, his phone vibrating on the nightstand next to his side. You try to ignore it. You really do. After all, he just let you go to sleep three hours ago.

Granted, yesterday was Valentine’s Day and there was no way someone as insatiable as Gojo Satoru was going to end it with just one or two rounds of normal sex, especially not after he went out of his way, spending hundreds of bucks to buy you a set of lingerie that he’d been dying to see. He made sure to dress you up (you’re his favorite doll after all), his grin plastered ever so cheekily on his face. He held his phone steady in one hand, recording the way you not-so-gracefully stepped outside the bathroom in your new lingerie, dying out of shame because—“What the hell did you buy me?!” Which he casually replied with, “A bunny suit. Now turn around and let me see your tail.” To be honest, that wasn’t even the worst part.

(The worst part was when he said, “Now is my little bunny hungry for some carrots? ‘Cause I got a real nice and big carrot for you right over he—” He didn’t get to finish his line. You punched him.)

The alarm continues to ring, playing a song that you grow to hate more and more each day. “Ugh, turn it off.”

Satoru doesn’t even stir in his sleep, which comes as no surprise. He’s still lying flat on his stomach, facing you with his cheek drowning in the comfort of his pillow. He looks peaceful. Innocent. Even when his parted lips are still somewhat smeared with the color of your lipstick. And he’s drooling—in an adorable way, of course.

“Satoru.” You nudge his shoulder. “Sa. To. Ru.”

No reaction. It’s like talking to a dead cow. You groan, your upper body pressing against his backside as you reach out to snatch his phone from the nightstand. With bleary eyes, you turn off his alarm before returning it to the table. You fall back to the side of your bed, flinching as your body still feels sore from last night.

A smile forms on your face. Finally, it’s quiet again.

You still have two more hours before you have to leave for work. I can still sleep for one hou—

The alarm starts again, playing the same damn song.

Of course. How could you forget? Satoru’s the type who sets his alarm every ten minutes just because he’ll totally ignore the first fifteen times. Are you really this tired to not remember this? Yeah, probably.

You pull your blanket over your head. Maybe you can just pay no attention to it like your husband.

Just ignore it, ignore it, ignore it.

Yeah, you can’t.

You toss away your blanket, frustrated. “Satoru, turn it off!”

Finally, the devil wakes up. He moans, his voice husky and heavy with sleep, sounding so effortlessly sexy but you’re just too irritated to acknowledge it that way. “What’s up with the loud noise..?” Sinking back into his pillow and tugging his bedcover up until it reaches his ear, he mumbles, “Honey, I’m still sleepy… Let’s fuck some other time…”

“Oh, we’ll fuck never if you don’t wake up and turn that damn thing off.”

“It’s your alarm.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Yes.”

“Toru, it’s literally Hatsune Miku playing.”

He giggles, still with his eyes closed. “I love Hatsune Miku.”

“Oh, for God’s sake.” You repeat your motions, basically throwing yourself over him so you can reach his nightstand. Satoru lets out a little oof under your weight, groaning. “Babe, what—” You turn a deaf ear to him, making sure to sink your elbow into his back because he deserves it. Once you get his phone in your hand, you switch it off—the phone, not the alarm. “There. Done.” You slap back his device to the table. “Now let’s go back to sleep.”

You’re about to jump back to your side when a pair of strong arms tangle themselves around your waist, pulling you down until you land face-first on his bare chest. “I don’t think so, pumpkin,” he simpers, nuzzling the tip of his nose against the crook of your neck. Suddenly, he’s as bright as daylight. “I can’t believe you’re being so aggressive this morning. Did we not do it enough last night?” He puckers his lips, baby-talking you when he says, “Is my little baby bunny still hungry for her carrot?”

“Satoru, I’ll say this as nicely as I can. Release me now or there will be blood.”

“How is that nice?” He pouts, jutting out his lower lip. He’s hitting thirty and he still thinks he’s adorable when he does that (he is, actually, but let’s not tell him that).

Now, boyfriend Satoru would have insisted on holding you close, but husband Satoru? Oh, husband Satoru has gone through some pain. He knows better not to test you. He releases you with a sigh, his eyes drooping like a sad puppy as he watches you crawl back to your spot. “You’re so mean.”

“You love me that way.”

The corners of his lips twitch up again. “That I do.”

Satoru turns around to his side, gazing at you with the bottom half of his face concealed by the blanket he shared with you. He doesn’t really tell this often, but he loves seeing you in the morning like this. That silky nightgown. Those kiss marks on your neck and shoulders. The way your hair is so messy from all the tugging and pulling he did last night. You’re his masterpiece.

“What?” You ask, unable to sleep with how he glues his eyes on you.

“Nothing,” he smiles to himself. “You’re so pretty.”

At this hour? “That’s bullshit.”

“It’s true!”

“Well, thank you for the praise, my dear husband, but complimenting me isn’t going to make me give you a blow job at six in the morning, so can you stop staring and let me sleep? I have work in two hours. One hour and a half now ‘cause you keep on yapping at me.”

To anyone else, you would sound vicious, but like you said so yourself, this is why he loves you. To Satoru, you look the prettiest when you’re annoyed, especially when you’re annoyed because of him. It makes him feel special in such a weird way. Having spent all his life being objectified by women—and men—for his looks, and treated with endless flattery because he came from a prestigious family, you, with your feisty attitude, appeared in his world like a breath of fresh air.

(Or maybe he’s just a masochist.)

With lips curving in joy, he pokes your cheek. “Babe, babe.”

“Go to sleep, damn it.”

“I will after you answer my question.”

“Just one?”

“Just one. Promise.”

“Fine. What?”

“Do you remember when we first met?”

You open your lids, staring flatly at the ceiling above you. This dumbass is really trying to play his nostalgia card at six in the morning. You take a glance at him from the corner of your eye. He has stars in his eyes. Great. You know he’s expecting a long answer but it’s too fucking early for this. “Yes.”

“You do?” He props himself up on his elbows, his voice a pitch higher. He’s basically sparkling, giddy with excitement. “What was it like for you? What did you think about me? Did you like me from the very first start? Did the world freeze when your eyes met mine? Hehe, I bet you had a massive crush on me~ I see you’re not saying anything so is it true? You totally did, didn’t you? Oh my God, baby, that’s so cute!”

You just lie there on the bed, half-dead, half-deaf, zero energy and he keeps prattling in your ear. “You’re really not gonna let me go back to sleep, huh?”

“Nope,” Satoru replies, making sure to smack his lips in case he wasn’t irritating enough. “Hey, hey, answer me, answer me.”

Somebody kill me, please. “Okay, fine, you wanna know the truth? I used to hate your guts.”

“Eeeeeeeeh?”

“Don’t eeeeeeh me.” You pinch his cheek, ruining his pretty pout. “We couldn’t stand each other during high school, remember?”

“I never hated you, though?” He’s sliding his arms under his pillow, hugging it close as he peers at you with a twinkle in his eyes. “I’ve always found you cute,” he confesses, followed by a girly squeal. Satoru buries his face in the pillow, his legs flapping against the bed. “Aaaaah~ Saying it out loud like that is so embarrassing~”

“I’m gonna punch you.”

“No, seriously. You’ve never heard me saying I hated you, have you? And you know me. I hold my grudges. If I hated you, I would’ve made your life a living hell. But I didn’t, right?” He takes your hand, his thumb gliding across your knuckles before he replaces it with his lips. “I made you the happiest woman in the world instead.”

“With your money.”

“With my love,” he corrects you, flicking your nose. “Do me a favor and try to remember the first time we met. Didn’t I show you enough how much I liked you?”

The first time we met?

Okay, a little flashback.The first time you met him, it felt like you were living the life of a shoujo manga protagonist. Remember all those corny stories you read back in middle school? When character A—a female lead who was so clumsy, it was a wonder she survived the whole trip to school—met character B—the handsome male lead who seemed aloof and mysterious but turned out to be nothing but a warmhearted kid with a traumatizing backstory—in front of the school’s gate where they exchanged long stares filled with yearning and affection even though they just met? It always happened in the spring, for some reason, at the beginning of a new term. There were cherry blossom petals fluttering in the background, the words thump thump and syalala~ scattered all over the page among her inner monologue that went something like, “What a handsome boy… He looks like Prince Charming… And he has such long eyelashes too… Oh no, what is this feeling? Calm down, my heart! At this rate, he’s going to hear it!” Remember those corny lines? Yeah, well, your story went down just about the same.

“What are you panicking about? Just climb up and jump.”

“I can’t climb—I’m wearing a skirt!”

“You’re worried that I’ll see your panties? Honey, please, I’m a gentleman. I won’t stare. Plus, polka-dot panties aren’t my thing.”

“HOW DO YOU KNOW I’M WEARING POLKA-DOT PANTIES?!”

Okay, maybe your story didn’t go exactly the same. But it’s true that you first met him in the spring, at the beginning of the school’s term. There were no cherry blossom trees swaying in the background because God hated you and He wasn’t that fond of adding pretty things into your life. Gojo Satoru was pretty, sure, but only until he started yapping. And knowing Satoru, he’s always yapping.

You had promised yourself earlier that day that you’d do better. Be better. No more running late to school, no more procrastinating on your homework, and maybe even try to socialize more with people (you shuddered at the thought). You didn’t wake up late that morning, and you went to school just on time but there was a car accident on your way there, forcing you to take a detour, so—

“I hate my life,” you grumbled to yourself, staring tiredly at your high school’s gate in your fresh uniform that was no longer as crisp and tidy as it was from all the running you did. The huge wrought iron gate was closed and locked. The students were already sitting in rows inside the hall, sleeping through your principal’s morning greeting. You had your bag slinging on one shoulder, your short, pleated skirt swaying as it was kissed by the wind. Your hair was sticking uncomfortably to your skin, glued by your sweat. So much for wanting to keep perfect attendance, you thought. This is the worst.

Little did you know that God in heaven was like, “Worst? Oh, honey, I’m just getting started.”

Because there he was, a devil sent from the deepest pit of hell. Your ‘Prince Charming’, walking out of a fancy black car and kicking the door closed without even thanking the poor driver. Gorgeous silver hair. Electric blue eyes. Piercing in his right ear and a bubblegum lollipop in his mouth.

Gojo Satoru.

He was a second-year student just like you but that was all you had in common. He was popular, so popular, and you didn’t have to think long to figure out why. He was a prodigy, excelling in both sports and academics, never failing to rank first in every exam, and it was so exasperating because he never seemed to pay attention to any of his classes. He was just born smart. And rich. Always carrying the new iPhone, never wearing the same outfit when he traveled outside. His Instagram was filled with photos of him taking trips to Greece and outer space (not true). His socks were made of rare breed silkworm’s saliva and his shirts were ironed by a dozen crying maidens (also not true). Apparently, his father was this big CEO who worked really closely with the government so you often heard his family name mentioned on TV. And, to top it all, he was handsome. Like unbelievably handsome. Even you had to admit that. Ridiculously tall, naughty smirk, pretty voice. He was the boy that Taylor Swift would make a whole album about.

Lucky bitch.

“I know,” Satoru said, noticing the way you were staring at him as he walked closer to your spot. He pulled the lollipop out of his mouth, gazing down at you (because, again, he was as tall as a tree) with one corner of his lips raised higher than the other. “I’m handsome.”

You weren’t exactly staring at him because he was handsome—okay, yeah, maybe you did. A little. “You’re late too?”

You had never interacted with him before and you were 99.9% sure he didn’t know your name, so maybe you should’ve started by introducing yourself to him. Or telling him not to be so cocky ‘cause who the hell started a conversation like that?

“Yep.” He plopped his lollipop back into his mouth, coloring his tongue blue. “But unlike you, I chose to be late. Needed my beauty sleep, you see, but you get that.” He stretched out both hands in the air, cracking his neck. A little strip of perfect fair skin was shown above his belt but you looked away, clearing your throat.

“So,” he yawned. “Are you going to climb first or should I?”

“What?”

“The gate, genius.”

“You want me to climb up the gate?”

“How else are you planning to go inside?”

“Well, true, but…” You looked around. Your usual school guard was nowhere in sight. Yes, the gate was quite high and you could hurt yourself making your way down but he could lend you a hand, right? It would be easy. You could stealthily slip yourself into the student’s hall after that. No one would notice. There would be no problem.

Well, aside from one thing.

“What are you panicking about? Just climb up and jump.”

“I can’t climb—I’m wearing a skirt.”

Satoru arched an eyebrow before he chuckled. “You’re worried that I’ll see your panties? Honey, please, I’m a gentleman. I won’t stare. Plus, polka-dot panties aren’t my thing.”

You blanched. “How do you know I’m wearing polka-dot panties?!”

“Oh, I got it right?” He rolled his lollipop to the side of his mouth for the sake of putting his annoying smile on display. “I must be a psychic or something. On top of my good-looking face? God really does have His favorite, huh?”

“Probably 'cause He feels sorry for giving you such a shitty personality.”

His jaw dropped. He knew he had a shitty personality but he thought girls loved that about him. “Well, aren’t you feisty,” he muttered, and you were worried for a split second that you might have upset him—not that you cared about his feelings specifically, you just didn’t want to jeopardize your connection with him (He was rich, okay? It would be great for your future career if you were friends with someone like him). But then, Satoru stuck his hands inside the pockets of his pants, leaning close with his lips pulled back in a cheeky grin. “You’re unlike anyone I’ve ever met. Wanna go on a date?”

Oh, that did it. Those little chances of you having a crush on him? Gone. “Gross.”

“Ouch, okay, that actually hurts,” he pouted, rubbing the center of his chest where you just shoved him. After taking a moment to examine your face—you really did look like you wanted to kill him—Satoru gave up with a sigh, shrugging. “Well, whatever. I’m going in.” He pivoted on his heels, making his way toward the gate. “I’ll see you never, Polky.”

“Wait!”

He clicked on his tongue, turning around to say, “Yell louder, will ya? Our school’s guard is practically deaf but I’m sure people in China would love to hear what you have to say.”

“You’re annoyingly talkative.”

“Part of my charm,” he replied. “I feel bad for you for not seeing it, honestly. Now, what is it? First period’s about to start.”

You thought about it, your eyes flying back toward the double-door gate that was attached to the compound wall. It looked sturdy enough to maintain both of your weights. If you made the jump, you’d still have the chance of being the perfect student for the rest of the semester. But did you really want to ask for his help? He was definitely not going to let it go if that was the case. Oh, you knew he was going to be so annoying about it.

“Any day now, cupcake.”

Yeah, I’m not doing it. You weren’t the type who was so against swallowing your pride if the circumstances demanded you to, but if it involved him? You’d rather die. “You know what, it’s fine. I’ll just go home.”

“What?” He knitted his eyebrows, watching you spin around on your heels. You were truly a piece of work, huh? So stubborn to admit that you needed his help. Throwing back his head and groaning dramatically, he exclaimed, “Ugh, fine. Just give me your bag.”

“What—Hey!”

With nimble hands, Satoru managed to snatch it away before you could let the thought sink through. He carried it with one hand, not stopping under your command. You chased after him, and you were so close to getting it back before he flung your bag to the other side of the gate—and so carelessly, mind you.

You watched it land on the ground in horror. “Are you crazy?! I got my iPad in there!”

“Whoops,” he grinned, clearly didn’t feel sorry in the slightest. “Okay, your turn, Princess. Come on, I’ll give you a lift.”

Ugh, why is this happening to me? Left with no choice, you made your way to him. “Don’t call me that.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” He bent his body forward, exaggerating a bow. “I meant, it is now your turn, oh her Royal Highness of the Democratic Republic of Polkaland—”

You pushed him down by the shoulders. “Shut up and get down on your knees.”

“Oooh, so demanding~” he cooed, but his flirty tone vanished instantly the moment he felt your foot stepping on his shoulder. “Whoa, wait—dude, your shoes!”

Okay, that was your bad. Should’ve taken them off before you did that. Now his black blazer was painted with soil. “Sorry,” you winced. “I’ll help you clean later.”

“Yeah, yeah. You weigh like a ton, by the way.” Oh, you know what? He deserved it. Actually, he deserved more dirt. “Are you rubbing your soles on me?” He gasped.

“You wanted clean shoes, right?”

“Not by using me!”

You ignore him, curling your fingers around the iron bars. “I’m going up. Promise me you won’t look.”

Satoru sighed. “Like I said, I’m not interested in seeing your—aw, aw, aw, aw!” Tears emerged in his eyes. Not only were you stepping on him, you were also using his head to maintain your balance, gripping his strands a little too tightly when you felt that you were seconds away from slipping. “Fuck—Stop pulling on my hair!”

“I’m trying not to fall!” You regained your balance. Feeling a bit sorry, you placed both hands on the bars, gripping them firmly as you stood on his shoulders. You stretched out one arm, fingers clawing against the iron as you tried to reach the top. You got it. Now, all you needed to do was pull yourself up.

On the count of three. One… Two… Three… Pull!

Eh?

“What now?” Gojo asked, his patience wearing thin. His shoulders were throbbing in pain. You weren’t actually that heavy for him. It was the way you were stepping on him, treating him like mud that’s the issue.

You felt your cheeks growing hot, your voice reduced to whispers when you answered, “I can’t do it.”

“What?”

“I can’t pull myself up, okay?!” You yelled in shame. You had calculated everything except for the part where you barely had any muscles in your arms to carry your own weight. “I’m too weak!”

“And you couldn’t have thought about that before you used me as your doormat?!”

“See, this is why I told you I was going home!”

“But your bag is over there—”

“WHOSE FAULT DO YOU THINK THAT IS?!”

Oh, both of you were giving each other headaches for sure. “Okay, let’s try another plan,” Satoru said. “I’ll go first and I’ll pull you up.”

“Can you? You’re built like a twig and you said I weighed a ton.”

“It was a joke, Polky, lighten up. And excuse me, I have muscles, all right? You just can’t tell underneath all these clothes I’m wearing.”

“It was a joke, Twiggy, lighten up.”

“Oh, you little—”

“Enough, we don’t have much time.” You climbed down his shoulders, exhaling in relief once you were back on the ground. “Want me to give you a push?”

“As much as I would loveto use you as my doormat, I got this.” He brushed the dirt off his shoulder and tossed his lollipop to the nearest bin. “You just stand there and look pretty,” he winked. “And try not to fall in love with me too fast.”

Before you could land a kick to his shin, Satoru made his leap, making it look so easy that it almost convinced you to give it another go. He sat down on the top rail—thank God, this gate didn’t have any finials—with his legs settled on both sides to maintain his balance. He took a quick scan of his surroundings to make sure you were alone before he tossed his own bag to the ground. “Okay, I think we’re safe.”

Satoru returned his attention to you, and for a moment, you exchanged stares. “What?” You narrowed your eyes, suspicious. He just grinned, flashing his teeth and you knew he was up to something again. “No,” you mumbled out as realization dawned on you. “You’re going to leave me here?!”

“Abandoning my princess? Of course not.” His eyes glinted with mischief. “Say that you’ll go on a date with me and I’ll pull you up.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Am not.”

“I don’t even know you.”

“Well, this is your chance to get to know me,” he smirked. “Come on, just one date. I’ll take you somewhere fancy.”

“Not interested.”

His smile slowly began to fade the more you rejected him. “You’re seriously saying no?”

“Want to hear it in German? Nee.”

“That’s Dutch.”

“Whatever.”

Satoru took a moment to himself, both confused and baffled (and a bit amused, actually). But surely, no one would reject the Gojo Satoru, right? Yet, there you were, glaring at him as you said so. “Huh,” he poked his tongue against his cheek. You weren’t sure whether he found you vexing or even more… interesting. He accepted his defeat with a heavy exhale, just for now. “Fine. Call me Your Majesty then. If you do it cutely, maybe I’ll pull you up.”

“Oh my God, why are you suchan ass, Satoru?”

“Oh, the princess knows my name!” He claimed in delight, already forgetting the shame from your rejection. “It’s about time you tell me yours.”

“Yes, it’s Miss Fuck Off from Class B. Now, give me your hand and pull me up!”

“Say the magic word then.”

Oh, this isn’t worth it. This is so not worth it. “Fine,” you said, and to his surprise, you whirled around and walked away.

“Wait, you’re leaving?” His smirk faltered. “What about your bag, Sweetheart?”

You didn’t bother to look back. “I don’t care. I’ll get it tomorrow.”

“That’s stupid!”

“I’d feel stupider if I had to kiss your ass.”

“Would you prefer to kiss my lips instead?”

“Goodbye!”

You stomped away. For a couple of seconds, there was silence, and you thought, oh, I actually managed to shut him up. You mentally gave yourself a pat on the back. You might not have your bag with you. Or your wallet. Or your phone. And if you were really planning to go home like this then you’d have to walk for five blocks, but! At least you got to leave him speechless. That was quite an achievement, wasn’t it?

“If you come with me I’ll pay for your iPad!”

You’re back at the gate. “Would you be so kind as to lend me a hand, your majesty?”

Satoru laughed. A genuine laugh actually came out from the devil’s mouth. It almost felt strange. Somewhere deep down, you imagined that he’d have a creepy laugh, or maybe even maniacal. But no. His laugh was so, so adorable. So boyish. So…heartwarming. It was the kind of laughter that would make you smile even when you were clueless of what he was laughing about.

“You’re funny, I like you,” he said, sending tingles to your cheeks which turned you completely into the typical shoujo manga protagonist.

Eew, what the fuck, did my heart just skip a beat? Gross.

Congratulations. You just had your first shoujo manga-worthy inner monologue.

Satoru extended his hand. “You better hold tight, Princess.”

“If you let go, I’ll kill you.”

“I’ll keep you safe, I promise.” Another smile, and there it was again. Your heart doing things inside your chest. You tried to find some excuse, blaming all of this on his looks.

Satoru pulled you up, holding you securely yet so gently by the waist once you reached the top rail. He held you close, noticing how you were shaking a little bit when you felt the fence rattle underneath your weight. This is strong enough to hold us both, right? You couldn’t help but worry. When you were finally sure you were fine, you began to notice the pleasant, intoxicating smell lingering on the little space between you. His scent… It was wonderful—sumptuous and warm, and you figured, that described him perfectly as a person. A mix of cedar woods and cypress, with a bit of sweetness to it. It almost reminded you of—

“The Last Day of Summer.”

You blinked twice. “Huh?”

“My perfume,” he smirked. “The Last Day of Summer by Gucci. You like it?”

“What—no,” you scoffed. “I didn’t even notice it. You smell like sweat.”

“Is that so?” He was definitely not buying your bluff, but he played along, just for a moment. Satoru leaned in, his right hand moving from the dip of your waist to your wrist, his fingers covering yours. You could feel the tips of his strands tickling your cheek, your body freezing up the moment his breath grazed your neck. You found yourself holding your own, your eyes closing shut when he took a sniff at you.

Wait. Sniff?

Satoru pulled away, scrunching up his nose. “I think that’s you, Polky. Did you miss your shower this morning or what?”

“I will push you.”

“Aaw, but then who’ll help you get back down?” He tugged you toward him, his face hovering just a few inches above yours. He tapped his finger against your nose, matching the words he said, “Not. So. Smart. Are you, baby?”

“You—”

“HEY! YOU TWO!”

The thundering voice of a man caused you both to flinch. Your gym teacher—Yaga Masamichi—was there, probably glaring from behind his sunglasses and fuming in his sweaty track pants. “What are you doing?! It’s your first day and you’re sneaking out already?!”

“Interesting point,” Satoru answered, unbothered. “We’re actually planning to sneak in.”

“Teacher’s office. Now.” He didn’t have the patience—or maybe the time?—to stay and lecture you both. He walked away, grousing under his breath.

You let out a heavy sigh. It was only ten in the morning and you already felt so tired. Unlike you, Satoru was still brimming with energy. If anything, he seemed even cheerier than before. “Well, it sucks that we got caught but we had fun, right?”

“Let’s just get this over with.”

“Okay, Miss Grumpy.” He so casually ruffled your hair as if you had been friends for years. “I’ll go first.” He hopped off the fence, landing back on earth almost as gracefully as a cat. You wished you could follow his lead but from that height? You weren’t so confident. “It’s all right, Princess,” he said, noticing your worry. “I’ll be here to catch you.”

That was actually one of your concerns. Not because he didn’t seem like he’d be capable of doing so, but more of what would come after he caught you.

You’d be… in his arms, right? And then what?

Fuck, it’s just Satoru. You didn’t even care about him until now. Just jump.

So, you did. Without thinking too much about it, you removed your hands from the railing, but you didn’t jump toward him as you were too stubborn—and embarrassed—to do so. The chance of killing yourself over this was close to zero, right? You’d be fine.

You could feel your feet touching the ground. You were okay. Or at least, you thought you were. Your shoes, unfortunately, weren’t made to do such a reckless stunt. Your soles were too slippery, and like stepping on ice, you lost your footing, your eyes burned by the blazing sunlight as you felt gravity pull you down.

Until a pair of arms wrapped themselves around your waist.

“For God’s sake,” Satoru said, and you felt his words reverberating from his chest since you had your face pressed against it. He sighed, removing one hand from your hips to cup the back of your head. “You should’ve jumped towards me, you idiot.” You could feel his long fingers slipping between your locks, forgetting to breathe air into your lungs when he pulled away, gazing at you solemnly. “Look, it’s cute to be stubborn and not want to ask for my help, but what would you do if you got hurt?”

It’s corny to say this (actually, everything that had happened in the last fifteen minutes was corny. You weren’t sure why your life—and yourself—had turned into this state. You were doing okay before he showed up in your life.) but you were lost in his gaze. The sky above you was brilliant blue, so breathtaking as it was painted by God Himself, and yet… When you compared that to his eyes...

They’re so pretty… He has such long eyelashes too…

(You have got to stop reading shoujo manga. Seriously. Maybe head over to shounen. Blood, death, and eternal suffering—that would stop you from thinking about his lashes.)

Satoru was close. So, so close, that a butterfly awakened in your chest.And was it just your imagination or was he leaning even closer to you?

“Huh…” he mumbled out. Locking your eyes together, he gazed deep into yours, not romantically—though you were too consumed by his stare to tell the difference. It was more like… He was in awe.

You fidgeted. “W-what?”

“Your eye color changes a little under the sun,” he smiled, sweet and youthful. “Pretty.”

Mush. There was only mush in your head. And Satoru. “You—You’re too close! Get off me!”

He giggled, easily catching your hand before you could shove him away. “You’re blushing? So cute~”

“Why are you two still here?!” Yaga, the same teacher from before, returned with a volleyball in hand. Apparently, he left earlier to get his equipment. “Didn’t I tell you to go already?!”

“We’re going!” Satoru released you, clicking his tongue in annoyance—maybe a habit? “I swear to God, that man needs to get laid.”

“I heard that, Satoru!”

“I wanted you to hear that, Sensei!”

“Are you crazy?!” You slapped his chest. “That’s a teacher you’re talking to!”

“Relax, my grandpa owns this school. He can’t touch me.”

Why am I not surprised? Biting back your sigh, you took a step back, only to realize, great, I bruised my ankle.

He noticed, even when you were trying your best to hide it. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” you said, doing as best as you could to walk without limping. “Thanks for the help. I’ll see you never.”

He matched your steps. “Did you sprain your ankle?”

“Just a bruise.”

“We should visit the infirmary first, just in case.”

“We?”

“I can’t possibly let you go alone.” He sounded like you were asking a dumb question. “Half of this was my fault anyway.”

“Yeah, ‘cause you threw my bag—”

“Because I’m so handsome that you felt too shy to just jump into my arms,” he spoke over you. His lips curving. “Wouldn’t have injured yourself if you just did what I said. But don’t worry. I’m sure there will be another chance.”

I hope not, you shuddered.

“Seems like you’re in pain, Sweetheart.”

“I’m fine.”

“Want me to carry you?” He beamed at you. “Piggyback ride? I can do it bridal style too, if you want. It will be so cute, we can head toward the sunset together after school.”

“I’d rather die. And stop following me. I’m heading to the restroom.”

“Running away from me? Coward.”

“You want me to pee on you? ‘Cause I’ll do it.”

“Kinky, but maybe some other time.”

Thankfully though, he listened to you this time, returning back the privacy you’d been craving since the moment he opened his mouth. He watched you walk away, his lips slowly curving back up as a new sense of excitement and joy filled his chest. “Hey, Princess!” He shouted, making sure that you’d hear his next words even with the distance between you. “I’ll see you on Sunday!”

“For what?!”

“Our date!”

“Oh, fuck off!”

And that was it. That was how you met your husband. To sum up, he had no sense of delicacy, he talked too much, had no respect for your personal space, and the way he snickered every time he saw you? Ugh. Yes, he was pretty. Yes, he made your heart race. But you’re not that shallow of a woman to be with someone just because of their looks so nothing ever happened. Not right away, at least.

These childish banters and unfortunate meetings kept occurring during your years in high school. And as if that wasn’t enough, God reunited you once again in college. You thought you were cursed. He thought it was destiny. You still remember how you used to hold yourself back from ripping out his hair whenever he walked up to you, grinning from ear to ear while singing—not calling—out your name. But then you had this one class with him during your final year and your professor put you two on the same project together. You started getting to know him better, and you found out that Satoru had more sides to him, more complex than just a little brat who craved your attention. You got closer. You stopped rejecting his calls. You missed his cheeky grins when he wasn’t around. And when he kissed you when you were crying because your dog just died? It wasn’t that bad. It was comforting. It was warm. And sweet. It was wonderful.

(Yes, out of all the times he could’ve picked, he kissed you after you buried the precious family member who’d wiggled his tail for you for seven years)

And before you know it, he asked you to be his forever and you said yes. Immediately. Undoubtedly. Wholeheartedly.

“Earth to wifey~” Your husband Satoru pops his head back into your vision. The ceiling that you’ve been staring at for the last few minutes turns blurry behind him. You blink, placing your focus back on him. “You suddenly turned quiet. Is it really that hard to answer my question? Babe, if you tell me you forgot about our first meeting, I’m actually going to shed some real manly tears.”

You heaved out a sigh. “Actually, it’s the opposite. I remember it all too well.”

“Aaaw, baby~” He reaches over to kiss you, only to have you slap a palm over his face.

“Now that I think about it,” you say. “You were so annoying when we first met. And disrespectful.”

He blinks, sweating. “B-babe?”

“Not to mention narcissistic, selfish, impolite—”

“Wait, hold up—What’s going on?!”

“You called me Polky. You called me fat—”

“Wait, this is not the reaction I wanted—You’re supposed to fall deeper in love with me!”

“You threw my bag without permission. You never paid back for what you did to my iPad. You kissed me on my dog’s funeral—oh wow, you were a little piece of—”

“Okay, forget the past, forget the past! Remember that you love me!”

“I think you should go back to your side of the bed.”

“Babeeeeeeee, I’m sorryyyyyyyyy!” He whines, tackling you in a hug, and rubbing his face on your stomach. “You can have my credit card for today. Buy anything you want, okay? No limit.”

“Okay, deal.”

You shake his hand, and the deal is done. Mission accomplished.

“Why do I feel like I just got tricked?” Satoru pouts.

You gently pat his cheek, smiling. “Remember that you love me, honey.”

You can’t help but think that if cupids were real, your cupid must have worked overtime cause damn, what tough work it was to make you fall in love with his insufferable ass.

“Ah! You just thought I’m insufferable, didn’t you?” Satoru asks, squinting his eyes.

You plant a brief kiss on his lips. “I think about you that way every day, my love.”

“You are so in love with me,” he giggles, snuggling closer to you. “Baby, baby, I’m cold.” He circles his arms around your waist again, landing a cute kiss on your shoulder. You can tell he’s smiling like a child, hugging you like a child, and as much as you want to go back to sleep, you can never find the strength to push him away when he’s like this.

“Fine, we can cuddle. But keep your mouth shut. I’m going to sleep.”

“Okay~”

“I’m serious.”

He pretends to zip up his mouth.

“Okay, good. Stay like that.”

Satoru nods. He holds onto his promise. He keeps his mouth shut.

Can’t say the same about his other body parts though.

Because your husband is now grinding his hips against your behind, not too much, not too hard, just enough to make you notice that yup, he’s hard. His hands slip underneath your nightgown, skimming over your thighs before they press flat against your stomach. He’s so warm—he’s always warm—and every touch he paints on your skin is both comforting and provoking.

“Satoru,” you warn him.

He makes humming noises in response, basically telling you, “I’m keeping my mouth shut, just like you asked.” He’s bratty that way.

You sigh. You decide to let him be. It will take more energy to push him away anyway. Besides, even if he’s insatiable when it comes to sex, Satoru will never force you to do anything you don’t want to. You just have to ignore him.

Which is not an easy feat, unfortunately, because before long, his hands find their way to your breasts, cupping each one fully with his palms. He makes another noise, which you easily translate to “Good morning, girls~” (You know this because he said that almost every other morning). Giddy, Satoru finds himself giggling again, squeezing them from behind but in a way that is so not sexy. It’s like a kid trying out his new squeeze toy in Toys-R-Us.

You roll your eyes. “Really?”

“Mm-hmm.” He starts playing with your nipples this time. Again, in a totally not sexy way. He’s tweaking, pinching, poking your buds inside with his point fingers, and watching them pop back out again. He’s tittering near your ear and you should really find him annoying but you can’t help but giggle too. He’s so dumb for even finding this entertaining.

“You are unbelievable,” you say, turning your head around just enough to kiss him. You hope for dear God, you don’t smell like your usual morning breath, but seeing how he doesn’t smell like one and still tastes like the whipped cream he had eaten (off your body) three hours ago, you figure you’ll be okay.

You don’t plan to take this further than a playful kiss but when you feel your husband groan against your mouth, pleased by the way you close your lips around his so perfectly, you know you’re losing your battle, and you don’t care. Who cares if you only had three hours of sleep and eight hours of stressful work ahead of you? Satoru tastes so sweet on your tongue. He always does. And you’re addicted to him.

With a little push, you have him lying back on the bed. He has one hand resting on your nape, holding your head firmly as he kisses you deeper. “Satoru,” you sigh against his mouth, his tongue rubbing against yours before he moves down to pepper kisses down your neck. He stays mute, but only because you told him to before (though if you knew it would lead to this, you wouldn’t have said so). Your husband may have the habit of spouting out stupid jokes one after another in his wake, but he always says the right thing during sex. The things you want to hear. The things you love to hear.

You can feel him smiling against your ear, your body shivering at the sensation of his breath caressing your skin. You can’t help but expect him to whisper something, something that you know will make you curl your toes in excitement. Last night he had you begging to turn every filthy word he spoke into action. Today, he just takes your earlobe between his lips, his breathing steady but heavy. The sound of his lips parting… The little mmm when he sucks on the sensitive spot… You're losing your mind.

His touch no longer feels light on your skin, drawing out hushed moans from your lips when he kneads your breasts, his thumb gliding against your nipple from over your gown. A soft chuckle brushes your ear. He knows how much you want to hear his voice. It doesn’t feel right to you, feels like something’s missing. But he won’t do that. Not until you start pleading.

But two can play at this game.

You sit down on his lap, the strap of your nightgown sliding down your shoulder just enough to tease. The sight of the purple bruises he left on your cleavage the night before entices him. You’re so pretty. So pretty when you’re marked and bruised.

With both hands on his chest, you nibble on your lower lip, rubbing your against his hardness. “I need you inside me.”

“Fuck,” he groans, losing his battle. He starts whining when he sees you giggling. “Baby, that’s not fair. You never said that to me before.”

“Really?” You roll your hips, rubbing him at the right spot, the right pace. The way you move is obscene. The thin fabrics separating your body from his only add more excitement to your already burning skin. “And does Daddy like it?”

His face nearly explodes. “Oh my God, stop. You’re torturing me.” He sits up only to grab you by the waist before he throws you back to bed with one arm.

You find yourself laughing when he blows against your stomach, treating you like a child. “Stop, that tickles!”

“I asked you to call me Daddy in the last three years we’ve been married and you always kicked me in the face, and now you’re saying it just like that?”

“What, did you want it to be special? Should I go make you a bath filled with roses, put Hatsune Miku on speakers—”

“Oh, that’s it, come here!”

You’re laughing until you can’t breathe, your leg pulled and your arm pinned behind your back. He tickles your sides, his smile playful and bright, filled with mirth. This joy you both have, you’ve never shared it with anyone else. And maybe he feels that too. Because when he flips you around, pressing your bodies together, Satoru’s gaze turns soft. He leans close, gathering your face in his hand. There’s no laughter, no giggle, no mischief in his eyes, only honesty. His voice sounds deep yet gentle when he speaks, “I love you.”

No matter how often he’s said it in the past, how much he’s said it yesterday, it always feels like it’s the first time you hear the words. And it’s rare for you to say it back to him, but he doesn’t mind. He understands that you often struggle to portray your feelings with words, too shy to say it under his overwhelming gaze, and if you ask him, it’s one of the reasons why he cherishes you so dearly. Because he knows whenever those words do come out of your mouth, you truly mean them.

Like now.

Cupping the back of his hand, you press your cheek further against his palm. “I love you more,” you whisper. “Every part of you.” And there’s so much more you wish you could say, but will your words ever be enough to describe them all? It wasn’t obvious to his eyes before as you were good at masking your emotions with sarcastic remarks and mean retorts, but reminiscing those old days you shared with him… It really made you realize just how much you’re in love with the man you’ve shared the last seven years with. You’ve grown so attached that even the thought of spending some days alone without him scares you to your bones. And with the way he’s gazing at you right now, ocean eyes filled with the same amount of passion and affection as they were on the day he confessed his feelings to you for the first time, it’s only right for you to be overwhelmed by your emotions.

Sometimes it scares me because I never thought I’d feel this way about someone.

Even the simplest thought of losing you, of not having you wake up beside me in the morning, is enough to haunt me for days.

Stay with me. Don’t ever leave me.

I love you.

Satoru.

“I just… I love you so much…” And you hate that it’s all you could say.

But it’s enough. It’s more than enough. Because Satoru is blushing, his eyes turning round, his lips parted but no words can be found. He just looks at you, astonished by the vulnerability you display on your face. The honesty. The purity of each gesture. How beautiful you are…

“Satoru?”

He pulls you into his embrace, burying his face in the crook of your neck. Hugging you so tightly, he barely gives you a chance to breathe and yet, you only wish for him to hold you tighter. You can’t tell just how much your words paint vibrant colors to his world—and bold red to his cheeks. “Are you planning to give me a heart attack?” He murmurs near your ear, a hint of shiver in his voice. “What the hell was that?”

You can’t help but chuckle. Embarrassed Satoru is the best kind of Satoru. “Sorry.”

“You kidding me? Say it again.” He returns the space between you, but only for an inch or two because that’s all he can bear. He strokes your face, his heart beating hard enough that you can almost feel it on your skin. “I think this is the cutest you’ve ever been.”

“I’m maxed out for today, though,” you say, wincing. “You’re gonna have to wait another ten years before I say that again.”

“I’ll wait forever if that’s what it takes,” he smiles, gliding his thumb across your cheekbone before he kisses you. “My sweet, sweet wife. I’m so happy I kissed you that day. Sorry your dog died, though.”

You chortle. “Honestly, you couldn’t have picked some other time?”

“You looked super cute when you cried, okay? Sue me.”

“You’re so ridiculous.” But you press his lips against his anyway, both of you smiling into the kiss.

“Babe.”

“Hmm?”

“Can I have your tits back in my mouth?”

“Sure, why not.”

“Can I… also bring my carrot back to my bunny’s mouth?”

“Aaaaand we’re done.” With a little shove to his chest, you send him back to the bed.

“Wha—” He sputters, mouth opening and closing like fish out of water. “Babe—”

“I’m gonna go make some coffee.”

“No, wait!” He shuffles quickly to his knees, holding onto your wrist. “Honey, I was kidding!”

“Moment’s gone, Toru.”

“But I’m still haaaard,” he cries, and whines, pleading at you with his pretty eyes. “Baby, I’m sorry. I promise I’ll behave so come back to me? Please?”

You already have one foot off the bed, tossing him a look over your shoulder. “You have hands.” Tying up your hair in a messy bun, you step down, smirking. “Use them.”

“Babeeeeee~”

You lean in to kiss him on the nose, patting his cheek when you say, “Take your time.”

As you walk away, you hear him mumble sadly behind you, “But your carrot…”

Yeah, your husband is insufferable.

And that’s why you love him.

***

Next Chapter

Shoutout to @justasketch and @princess-okkotsu for being my first readers and for not throwing up from the excessive amount of cringe in this fic. Love you, babes ❤️

#gojo fluff #gojo smut #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #satoru x reader #satoru smut #satoru fluff #jjk x reader #jjk fics #gojou x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #jujutsu kaisen #fics.24HourswithYou

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lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom · 1 month

Text

Familiar Faces

Tech x Reader

Summary- Techs death was not a reality you were ready for, you relied so much on his love. After months of grief, you find he might not actually be dead.

A/N- SPOILERS FOR TBB SEASON 3 EP 7. I know nothing is confirmed about Tech, but watching this newest episode has got my brain working overtime with fic ideas!

Word Count- 2,708

The cart creaked across the rail line, sending shivers down your spine. There wasn't much keeping all of you up. Inches from falling thousands of feet to your death. The clouds didn't help either, you couldn't see anything.

You fired away, missing most of the time. Everything was happening so fast. A mission gone wrong. Your thoughts were stopped by Hunter's yelling.

"Three ships inbound!" He informs, even when you saw nothing in the sky- you trusted him. He knew better than any of you.

Shortly you heard them coming, the roar of the engines were loud. Soon followed by it's blaster's shaking the cart.

"Tech we need power!" Hunter commands. You work on pure adrenaline and fire at the ships closing in.

One of them is shot down, but not before it knocks out one of the support hooks. You feel the ground shift down, leaning.

Like a breath of fresh air, you hear Tech's voice. Him yelling back "Echo, Now!" was enough to calm you.

"We're online!" Echo retorts. You can't help your grin rising. Finally, things were looking up.

Though, you didn't need Hunter to tell you three more ships were headed your way.

"Tech, hurry." You called out.

You and Omega blasted at one of the new ships, effectively destroying its wing. It crashed down in a black smoke.

From this black smoke a fourth ship came. It was too quick- it shot at Tech, who was still running towards you. He gave a yelp as he fell off the support beam.

Your eyes widened as you gasped, body craning to try and see him. He had a hard landing, but was standing to his feet on the falling compartment of the cart.

It rumbled and shook, about to crash down.

You ran to the back of the cart, trying to get closer. "Tech!" You watched in horror as he tripped back with the rest of the detached pieces.

His grappling hook barely caught onto a stray metal piece. His body bounced back at the tension. "Don't move! I'll pull you up." You tried to reach his line, but it seemed impossible without everyone toppling over into the abyss.

"I-I can't reach!" You called over comms.

"I will climb up, do not risk falling over." You nodded at this, forgetting he couldn't see you. He was more worried for you than himself.

"Come on Tech, hurry!" Wrecker booms, coming over to see what the status was.

You could feel Tech roll his eyes, "I am climbing as fast as I can!"

His grunts break your heart, he panted as he tried to pull himself up. Storm troopers still fired all around you. One of the blast forcing Tech to fall even further.

"Tech!" This time it came from Omega. Your heart was beating too fast to think and speak. You were so worried.

"Why aren't we moving?" Hunter asks Echo. "The cart is being ripped from the back."

The very cart Tech was holding on to for dear life.

You frantically looked to Hunter. "Wrecker, get him on board!" He instructs.

"No, you're too big." You push past Wrecker to take a step on the falling cart.

It creaked loudly, almost giving out. "NO! Don't!" Tech yells up at you. Your eyes connect through the ripped metal. "Any shift in weight could send both of these carts over."

Incoming ships shoot at Techs line, he dropped down again.

"You must sever the connection hinge. Now!" Tech says.

Your face falls. "Are you crazy! No, you'll go over!" Tears welled up in your eyes. There had to be another way.

Another creak and shift. You were almost thrown over by the rocking.

Tech gave out a heavy sigh. This time he spoke gentle, saying your name. "There is no time..."

"Tech, please no!" You begged. He pulled out his blaster, not looking away from you. He was going to sever the connection himself.

"No!" You screamed, desperate. Your tears were falling faster than ever.

"Plan 99... I love you" He started. With a deep breath you yelled, "Don't you dare!"

"You can't! Please!" You sobbed, still trying to get closer. You heard Wrecker straining behind you, he was trying to hold the falling cart up.

"When have we ever followed orders?"

A shot rang out, he fell.

A piercing scream erupted. You almost didn't recognize that it was your own.

Your instincts kicked in and you tried to leap down, like you could still save him somehow. Wrecker was too fast and caught you, his arm throwing you back into the safe cart.

"No, NO let me go!" You tried to fight off Wrecker, but he was far too strong. He pinned you down easily.

You were hysterical, arms wailing at anyone who kept you from jumping after him. Later, when you were thinking straight- you'd thank them.

"He's gone, he's gone!" You sobbed out, devastated. Your screams filled the air, shocking a few storm troopers close by.

Echo wired the cart to start moving and get everybody to safety.

That was months ago. Just the thought could bring you to tears. You had lost everything you felt the reason to live for. He was your everything. His incompetence for social queues, his punctual speech, his stupidly intelligent brain. All of it was yours, and now it was all gone.

A deep depression fell over you, the only thing driving you was Hunter and Wrecker. They inspired you how hard they fought for Omega. It warmed your heart in your worst times.

It hurt immensely when you heard his name, but it got easier to get out of bed. It got easier to smile again.

Eventually, you reconnected with Omega and started defending Crosshair. Something that was typically Tech's job... You knew you had to take on more responsibilities and make up for the time you were down.

You constantly wondered if Tech would be proud of you.

You and the rest of The Batch found yourselves helping Rex, then... escaping with Rex. An enemy assassin leading the Empire to us.

The nine of you hurried down a secret passage way, to a leach vessel.

The soft clicks of the steps soothed you in some wicked way, even when everyone was running for their lives.

"Stop!" Crosshair yelled out. You turned to look at him, he took a few steps back to look out a carved hole in the stone. "They are coming..."

Just then, a shot rang out. Another assassin hung from the inner walls.

Crosshair ducked behind the wall, "Go, I'll handle it."

The rest of the squad moved down, but you stayed. "I'll help."

That was until you peaked around the hole, getting a glimpse of the man. A rush a deja vu consumed you. Your breath quickened. Why was this man so familiar?

You pushed it down, you had already let your feelings get the best of you too many times. It can't happen again. You fired at him, Crosshair backing you up.

Crosshair put an explosive at the end of his shotgun, catching the man off guard. It threw him off the wall. The two of you headed to the ship.

A blast to the ship sent all of you crashing down. You briefly heard Rex sending Echo a message about an extraction.

Commotion ensued, but it all ended with you falling and getting a bad headache. Your helmet did not do much to cushion the hit.

The rest of the team was briefly recovering from the crash as well, but you had to get a move on.

"We've got attack shuttles inbound." Hunter noted.

"This way." Rex lead.

You traveled on foot in the woods, trying to lose the storm troopers. Fighting them off was light work. One however, stood out from the rest.

Crosshair proved your suspicions when he frantically turned around, gun raised.

"What is it?" Hunter questioned. He got his answer when the assassin shot at us.

With our numbers down and the assassin having the upper hand, Crosshair suggested "I'll draw his fire out. Get to the rendezvous."

You heard Omegas small voice through comms, "I don't like that idea..."

"Too bad." He responds, already crouched behind a rock to fire.

Looking at Omegas worried gaze, "Go, I'll make sure he doesn't get himself killed."

Omega nods at you, then joins Hunter's side. Crosshair just grunts in acknowledgement.

In truth, Crosshair didn't need you. Though, you both knew that Omega needed the peace of you fighting with him. Two verses one had much better odds.

You heard Rex commanding the rest of the squad to move out. You and Crosshair pursued the assassin.

He gave out hand signals, letting you know he was above you. You nodded, sneaking around.

The assassin saw you easily, perfect. He was distracted just enough for Crosshair to get a hit on him, knocking his balance off.

Your face dropped when the assassin recovered in record time, it was like he hadn't even been hit. He now caught you by surprise when he shot at your hand, you lost your weapon. Damn. All you had left was a blade, which you now grasped.

To your dismay, Crosshair had already taunted the assassin away from you. No doubt on purpose.

It took you a minute to find them, Crosshair had followed him to a waterfall. One with rapids at the bottom. The booming of the current was distracting.

You crouched down, keeping a low profile. Crosshair and the assassin fought vigorously. When you saw an opportunity, you jumped.

You tried to get your blade around his neck or at least cut his suit. The assassin was stunned for a second, giving Crosshair time to recover.

The man disarmed you, overpowering you in strength. You fell back with a thud, your helmet flying off. You scrambled to stand, but was forced to stay down because of a stray blast. It just missed your head.

The assassin seemed to know every single move Crosshair made. Like, he had studied Crosshair's fighting technique multiple ways, There was only one man who you knew did that, and he was dead.

The stranger knocked Crosshair to his knees, a gun to his head.

The man now looked to you, ready to dispose of you as well.

You sat up, but did nothing to fight back- fear of him shooting Crosshair.

He however, stopped in his tracks. You just stared, confused. He looked to you, maybe in disbelief?

He, not moving his gaze, stunned Crosshair. You were in shock that he didn't kill him... The thud of Crosshairs body made you jump.

You slowly rose to your feet, you somehow didn't feel threatened by the man anymore.

Now that you stepped closer to him, he stepped back. He seemed to be fighting with himself... Throwing his blaster as far as he could away.

His hands moved to grip the sides of his head, in pain. He stumbled back, head barred down. With a loud 'thud' he fell on his rear.

He scratched at his helmet, trying to take it off. Something inside of him wouldn't let him. He was in turmoil with himself.

Did you feel pity for the man? You slightly shook your head, baffled at what you saw. He was so vulnerable now, you should have killed him for what he did to Crosshair. At least Stun him.

You couldn't find it in yourself. He looked so confused with himself, so conflicted. Your heart wrenched, but why?

Your own actions shocked you, stepping closer to him. You lowered yourself to your knees, inches away. You were skeptical but determined.

He stopped his frantic movements when your hands moved to his head. He let you do as you pleased, frozen in place.

You kept your eyes on him as you gently lifted his helmet. You only got it up enough to see the mans eyes, a deep brown. That and his face structure was enough to tell you who it was.

The face you spent hours drooling over, embarrassing stares caught at, nights laying with. The very face you saw fall thousands of feet down to a cloudy abyss.

You gasped loudly, scrambling back. No, NO. It wasn't him. It couldn't be him...

Your reaction seemed to have broken him out of his haze. His helmet fell back down, covering his face. He, almost instinctively, moved to you. You were too shocked to fight back. He swiftly grabbed your wrist, pulling you up.

The grip was tight, you winced. The man realized his mistake immediately and loosened the grip. if he wanted to kill you, why was he worried about your wrist?

When you were sitting back up, the man reclined on his knees. He slowly moved his hands up to the helmet again, this time with more control.

He raised it completely off. It was him.

Both hands moved to cover your gaping mouth. How? HOW?

"T-Tech?" You called out, voice cracking.

He squinted his eyes and had one hand holding the side of his head in pain.

"You must take Crosshair and run, now." He ended by saying you name desperately.

"W-what? No, I am not leaving you. Tech, what happened? How are you alive!" You leaned to him, wanting nothing more than to hold and kiss him.

He moved back, your touch like fire.

"You have to go. I do not know how much longer I can hold off the chip. I do not want to hurt you." He looked at the ground, ashamed.

"You won't. I know you won't..." You moved closer again, resting a hand over his. You slowly moved it off of his head, holding it. He breathed hard.

"Any better?" You ask. "Yes, I would suspect my will to keep you safe overrided the new chip the Empire has put in my head." You smiled, finally leaning forward to hold him.

The second your arms wrapped around him, you sobbed. It all felt like a dream- well, nightmare.

"I thought you were dead... Tech, oh my Tech." He hugged back, petting your hair. You both frantically proclaimed 'I love you's.' But, he soon pulled away.

"I will not put you at risk any longer." He moved to stand up,

"I just got you back, why are you leaving me?" You couldn't understand.

He stood up, saying your name in a whisper. "I thought I made it clear. My new inhibitor chip is stronger. I am assigned to kill you. I do not want to do such a thing, ever."

"Tech, just please come with me. Rex is with us, he can help remove this one. Just like the others..." You grabbed onto his arm, pleading. How did he expect you to walk away, leave him behind. Especially when you just figured out he was alive.

"I suppose that might work..." He rested a hand to his chin, thinking. More tears flowed from your eyes, he was exactly how he was before. Always calm, always thinking everything through with a steady heart beat.

You looked up at him. "Please, I need you. I-"

"I know. I need you too. I uh- I apologize for shooting you." He said as-a-matter-of-factly.

Your eyebrows furrowed, "You didn't mean to.." You leaned up to kiss him, but something switched in him.

His face twisted and turned, he stepped back. He was fighting himself again, now a hand reached for his blaster. He looked up, face cold and blank. He pointed the gun at your face.

"Tech, Tech, it's just me!" He didn't care, he had a mission to fulfill. The chip was regaining control.

Suddenly, his body quivered and shook. He fell to the ground. Crosshair stood behind.

"Please don't kill him!" You ran to him, making sure he was aware of the situation.

"I know, his chip... I'll carry him back. Rex can look at him." You were hopeful, he was coming home.

It would be a rocky start, but he was alive. He was alive and half-conscious. That was a problem for when you got back on the ship.

For just a second, watching Crosshair hoist Tech up, you relaxed. The pounding of the water on rocks soothed you.

He was alive...

A/N- Thank you so much for reading! I hated the ending, sorry ya'll had to go through that. I didn't know how to end it! I was so motivated with this plot, then kind of lost it. Expect a Crosshair fic this weekend!!!

Tags- (LMK if you want to be tagged as well!) @thethreeeyed-raven @knight-of-flowerss

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yelena-bellova · 1 year

Text

Twenty Years Later: Joel Miller x F!Reader - Chapter Four

Chapter Four: Luck

Plot: Joel, Y/n, Tess and Ellie encounter Clickers, and sacrifices are made.

Warnings: tlou ep.2 spoilers, language, violence, gore, blood, guns, death, (16+)

Word Count: 4.4k (what else for chapter 4? lol)

A/N: So the only reason I was able to get this out so fast is because chapter three and this was supposed to be one big chapter. It ended up being too long, so it got split. Please don’t make this your expectation 😂

I love reading all your comments, even if I’m horrible at responding to them. I’ve never had this kind of response to my writing and it’s a lot to keep up with. I, once again, have to reiterate that this is a 16+ series and if your name is not listed on your page, I will not be tagging you. Gotta look out for younger eyes 👀 I hope you enjoy this chapter! There’s no flashback, but a lot of hints about things to come later…I’m a terrible tease 😂🤫 Enjoy!!

———————

The museum doors were covered in fungus.

“This feels like a great plan,” Y/n sarcastically stated.

Joel ignored her disapproval, going ahead and kneeling down at one of the fungal sites. He ran a hand over it before breaking through it with the butt of his rifle.

“It’s bone dry,” he reported, “It could mean they’re all finally dead in there.”

Could was the key word of the sentence. ‘Coulds’ were like ‘probablies,’ hope with barely a breath left in it. The adults all started going through their packs, puling out their flashlights.

“Oh, man…” Ellie muttered.

Joel whipped out his light and looked exepctantly to Ellie, “Marlene pack you one of these, or just sandwiches?”

“Yeah,” Ellie answered, searching through her pack.

Y/n nudged the kid’s arm, drawing her focus. “You stay behind one of us at all times,” she instructed, “Slow and steady. Do not wander. Got it?”

Ellie nodded, “Got it.” When Tess crossed her hands, a gun and a flashlight in each, Ellie took notice. “I have a spare hand.”

“Congratulations,” Joel noted sarcastically.

With her pistol drawn, Y/n watched Joel move forward. It bothered her that he had been leading them the whole way. Their talk on the highway proved he thought he was capable of more than her. He assumed that just because he’d known her when she could afford to be delicate, she couldn’t have possibly grown into a fighter. Setting caution aside, she marched forward to walk parallel to him.

“Get back,” he ordered.

“Get bent,” she grunted.

The four of them moved as silently as they could through the museum’s lobby, posters and signs proving it had once been a landmark. Y/n moved alongside Joel, at one point taking a step ahead of him and finding a corner full of dry Cordyceps.

“We’re good,” she announced.

“Oh, finally,” Tess remarked, “Some fuckin’ luck.”

“I guess we should’ve gone this way in the first place,” Joel acknowledged.

“Oh, shit!” Ellie exclaimed, the three of them ran to join her. She’d broken Y/n’s third instruction like it was nothing.

There lay a body, covered in fresh blood and claw marks through its clothing.

“What the fuck did that?” Ellie inquired.

Y/n, Tess and Joel shared a knowing look.

“Maybe,” Tess’ voice shook as it lowered, “Maybe he was attacked outside and crawled through the doors. The door was open. Could’ve been him. I don’t hear anything.”

“Who would you hear?” Ellie asked.

The adults shushed her, Joel held up a hand.

Ellie lowered her voice, “Who would you hear? Are you saying an Infected did that?”

“Shh,” Tess crooned.

“Because I’ve been attacked by one and it wasn’t like that,” Ellie added.

Joel took a breath, it was all he could allow himself. “Okay, from this point forward, we are silent,” he whispered, “Not quiet…silent.”

“What-“ Ellie began.

“No, no questions,” Joel stopped her, “Just do it.”

Having very little trust in the man who had openly admitted to wanting to kill her, Ellie peered at Y/n, who nodded in solemn agreement. Things had suddenly become very, very real.

The four of them made their way to the museum’s staircase, taking slow steps up the creaking steps. Joel and Y/n made it to the top first, only having to stop when a piece of debris fell in a cloud of dust. They shined their flashlights across the way, a massive piling of death and fungus-covered bodies laying tragically still.

Crunch.

The exes spun around to see Ellie baring her teeth nervously, a skeletal hand below her sneaker. Everyone held their breath. There was creaking coming from above them, every step they took was a step closer to being buried alive.

Joel and Y/n made it into the Independance Hall exhibit, taking stock of their surroundings and coming up clean. Ellie followed with Tess close behind her.

Suddenly, there was a crashing sound; the building was finally giving out. Lightining fast, Y/n surged forward and grabbed Ellie’s arm, pulling her forward as Tess nose dove to the floor. Y/n let go of Ellie to extend a hand to Tess, who braced herself with it and got to her feet. They barely had a second to gather their thoughts before a loud, animal noise echoed through the room.

Then came the clicking.

Y/n and Joel drew their guns together, aiming in the direction the sound had come from. They slowly backed up, Tess and Ellie moving behind them, as the noises drew closer.

Fear can stop a clock, and none of them could tell how long they waited until the snarling, shriveled monster stepped into the room.

Y/n and Joel’s grudge ceased to exist as they moved in sync, silent as the grave they prayed they weren’t about to meet. As their group passed a doorway, more clicking sounded through it. They startled, backing up as the erratic footsteps came closer.

Two. There were two Clickers.

The foursome sought shelter behind a glass display case as the Infected began to roam the room. Each of them were processing the situation spearately, but they needed to move together as one.

Joel saw the fear in Ellie’s eyes, he couldn’t take it from her, but he could prepare her. “They can’t see,” he mouthed, leaning over Y/n, “But they can hear.”

On the other side of the display case, one of the Clickers walked past, shrieking as it jerked around. It had been over a year since Y/n had been this close to one of them, she’d forgotten what it was like. The way experience melted away and fear overtook all your senses.

Joel held up a finger to the three of them. If the Clickers could pass through without noticing them, they could make a straight shot up to the passageway and be gone. Everything rested on how the next thirty seconds went.

Y/n was too afriad to shut her eyes and too scared to face the creature head on. She simply stared ahead, trembling with each sound the monster made.

They listened as it turned the corner of the display case, until it was mere inches from them.

Ellie gasped.

Y/n grimaced.

The creature spun around to them and screamed.

Joel unloaded his rifle on the creature, who reached out and dragged him forward.

“Run,” Joel screamed.

Tess took off with Ellie, shooting at the other Infected before escaping the room. Y/n stayed, firing shots at the creature as it fought Joel. It knocked the rifle out of his hands, leaving him with only his pistol. Y/n was able to wound it enough to momentarily stun it, giving Joel and her time to run away.

They sprinted down the hall, Joel turned around and fired a shot before they dove into the next room. He knocked over a podium, creating an obstacle in the Clicker’s path, buying him and Y/n a few extra seconds. Joel grabbed her wrist and threw them behind a shelving unit.

Now fear, it turns out, is a powerful thing. It can cause people to turn on one another, or it can bring them together. Y/n had spent the last twenty four hours listing all the ways she wanted to kill Joel Miller, but face to face with the reality of losing him, she was doing everything she could to save him. They both were.

Joel’s hands shook as he reloaded his gun, his flashlight tucked between his shoulder and his chin. Y/n stretched her arm out over his chest, her breath trembling in time with his as they waited…

The Clicker was right next to them.

Joel shone his flashlight around the corner, the Infected was a mere ten inches from them. Mercifully, it hadn’t sensed them, and headed around the other side of the shelving unit. Y/n peered through the dusty screens, charted a clear path, and motioned for Joel to come forward. They crouched as they walked, Y/n spotted Ellie hunched against another display case.

Joel and her quickly crossed the space and got down alongside her. Joel looked to his side, signaling for Ellie to follow them around the case. They crawled in the opposite direction, the Clicker only a few feet away from them and but a second from discovering them. It just needed to take a few more steps and then it would be in the other room….

A piece of glass crunched under Joel’s boot.

The three of them stopped.

The Clicker screeched and leapt across the case, tackling them to the floor. Ellie thrashed and yelled as it pinned her down. Joel and Y/n each kept an arm against its chest, pushing it away with their combined strength. Y/n freed her arm from between her and Ellie’s bodies, pressing her gun against the Clicker’s abdomen and shooting it three times. It stunned the monster, giving Joel time to shove it off of them. Y/n shielded Ellie, who was gripping her jacket, and Joel shielded Y/n. Joel aimed his pointed at the Clicker once again, and gunned it down as it ran towards them. He fired a few final shots, just to ensure it was dead.

The second Clicker charged towards them, Joel and Y/n shoved Ellie behind them, no time to draft an attack plan. Saving the day, Tess came from the side and lodged an axe in the Clicker’s head. Thinking quick, Joel left Y/n and Ellie to retake his rifle, firing one shot before a second that did the creature in.

Joel surveyed the Clicker, examining the bloody chunks of fungus laying around its head. Fear was enough to create doubt, even in front of fact.

“You all right?” Joel asked Tess, who was getting to her feet.

“Twisted ankle, but…yeah,” Tess answered.

Y/n turned to Ellie, “Are you okay?”

“Well, I didn’t shit my pants, so…” she responded, glancing around her in case they’d missed one. She stopped and rolled up her sleeve, revealing a bloody mark, “You fucking kidding me?”

Y/n didn’t know whether or not to be scared. Joel knew exactly what to feel.

“I mean, if it was gonna happen to one of us,” Ellie muttered.

Joel didn’t let his anxiety come over him often, but he could feel it building. Tess was tuned into him enough to see it happening.

“Hey,” she coaxed, “Let’s get the fuck outta here.”

The four of them filed out the top window, Y/n offering Tess her hand to help her onto the roof. Joel went to work immediately, pulling out a first aid kit and a piece of cloth.

“Put this around your arm,” Joel instructed Ellie, handing her the cloth. In the chaos, he hadn’t even thought to ask Y/n if she was injured. “You-“

“I’m fine,” Y/n said coldly, eager to settle back into blind hatred.

Ellie made her way to the makeshift bridge, a few wooden planks, and took the first step. “Over there?”

“Yeah, I know,” Joel spoke as he examined Tess’ ankle, “It looks scary.”

“That was scary,” Ellie replied, “This is wood.”

Y/n followed Ellie, her legs steadying more with each step across the divide. In the world they lived in, fear had to pass as quick as a summer storm.

“Are they always like that?” Ellie asked once they were both on the rooftop.

Y/n sighed, “Not at first. I mean, they’re always scary but at the beginning, they look…” she paused, forcing the memories out like a tide in the ocean, “They look normal.”

Ellie hummed, wandering off to the edge of the building. As Joel crossed the plank, Y/n went to stand beside Ellie. The sun was shining gold down on the remnants of Boston, illuminating the good and the bad.

This. This was what still gave Y/n hope. She needed to believe that maybe, maybe, there was a way to restore the world back to its beauty. That was the key difference between her and Joel; she still wanted to find what little good was left out there.

Joel came to stand on Ellie’s other side, peering over at the girl. “Is it everything you hoped for?”

“Jury’s still out,” Ellie gave a half-shrug, “But man, you can’t deny that view.”

Tess rejoined them, walking with new purpose. “C’mon, let’s get there before it’s dark,” she grunted, climbing over the edge and scaling down some siding.

Joel and Y/n stood at the edge of the roof, each staring out into the horizon lost in their thoughts. Their severed connection lived in the space between them, sparking and straining as it tried to pull them together.

But they’d had twenty years of ignoring one another’s memory. It was going to take more than a fight and a sunset to come to any kind of truce.

Y/n silently climbed down the side of the building, leaving Joel on his own. He glanced down at his watch, taking a valued second to himself, before heading down after the rest of them.

—————————

The rest of the way to the State House was spent in quiet suspicion. Everyone watched Ellie with more interest than before, waiting for something to happen.

When they arrived, Y/n spotted the truck that was supposed to transport Ellie and her. There was supposed to be someone outside waiting to meet them and yet, the place looked as deserted as the rest of the city.

Joel glanced at Y/n, silently asking if this was right. She answered with a distant shake of her head as she looked around them. She drew her gun and got up, stepping strategically through the grass. Joel huffed in exasperation, coming out in the open to follow her.

Y/n approached the truck cautiously, her breath already trembling like she’d already seen what lay inside. She ignored Joel practically breathing down her neck as she swung open the vehicle’s door. Empty.

Joel held up a hand to Tess, who stood with her gun aimed and Ellie protected behind her. “Stay back,” he mouthed. When he turned back to Y/n, he found air.

Y/n rounded the vehicle, examining the other side before her eyes and nose were drawn to the ground. There was a bloodied body laying underneath the truck. She knelt before it, whatever had happened to it hadn’t been more than an hour or two ago. The blood was still new, but the flies had already found the poor soul.

Joel was at the rear of the truck, bracing himself for whatever fight lay inside it. He threw the back door open and took a stance, finding the same nothing they had in the cab.

“Joel?” Tess called, coming to join them, “What the fuck is going on?”

“I don’t know,” Joel said, looking around the corner of the truck to Y/n, “What was the plan?”

Y/n sighed and ran a hand through her hair, “Driver was supposed to be waiting here, one or two Fireflies just to verify it was us…we were supposed to jump in the truck and go.”

“They went inside,” Ellie announced, staring at the steps leading to the State House. The three adults peered over to see the bloody footprints painted on the staircase.

“Come on,” Tess grunted, grabbing Ellie’s hand and letting the blood tracks show them the way.

“Tess,” Joel called, Y/n wasn’t waiting for him to call the shots. She jogged up the stairs with the same urgency as his partner. “Tess!”

Tess burst through the doors, holding both Ellie and her pistol in front of her. Y/n flanked Ellie, ready to attack whatever could been lurking in the building. Joel followed the women, exhausted by their recklessness.

What they found was worse than they could have imagined.

Every Firefly body was on the floor, their blood spread across the slick marble.

Y/n could feel her chest cave in on itself. Her comrades, the plan to take Ellie west, hope itself, it all dead lay around her.

Tess showed the same panic Y/n was trying so hard to contain. “Okay, I mean there’s gotta be a fuckin’ radio or something, right?”

“Start looking,” Y/n holstered her gun, running to check the crates, the equipment…anything that could offer them a morsel of chance. If she could get in contact with Marlene, they could form a new plan. She’d take Ellie herself, if necessary, doubts be damned. They couldn’t admit defeat so easily.

“Tess,” Joel called, having already deduced that one Firefly had got infected and it had spread to the others, “What’re you doin’?”

Y/n threw open crates, scouring the contents for a radio, with Tess searching beside her. They both ignored Joel.

“Where did Marlene say you two were going?” Tess asked Y/n.

“Tess-“ Joel tried again.

“Just west,” Y/n answered, her breath quickening, “We were supposed to get the exact location here.”

Tess threw her hands out in exasperation, “Just west. Fuck. Okay…well, one of ‘em’s gotta have a map on them, right?”

Y/n was already examining the bodies without touching them, “Check each one.”

“Joel, can you help us?” Tess impatiently asked, kneeling next to Y/n and searching through the victim’s pockets.

“No,” Joel bellowed, refusing to indulge the fantasy any longer, “Tess, it’s over. We are goin’ home.”

Tess spun around, shooting daggers out her eyes, “That’s not my fucking home!”

Her cry was loud enough to silence the rest of them. Tess hung over one of the bodies, fighting back her tears enough to stand up and face Joel.

“I’m stayin’.”

Y/n stayed on the ground, confusedly watching the scene play out.

“I mean…” Tess almost laughed, “Our luck had to run out sooner or later.”

Joel stood perplexed. Perhaps he’d have figured it out if he had looked in between her words. In her eyes. In her quivering lips.

“Fuck,” Ellie exclaimed, her voice lowering to a whisper, “She’s infected.”

Joel felt the very ground they stood on crack down the middle, a divide separating him and the only person he’d allowed himself to care about in twenty years. The unspeakable plague had finally come for one of them, and it had attached itself to the wrong person.

“Show me,” he muttered.

“Joel,” Tess said softly, taking a step forward. Joel flinched, jumping back an inch away from her. He regretted it immediately, it was pure instinct.

Tess pulled back her jacket and shirt to display the reddening bite mark.

Y/n got to her feet upon seeing the wound, unafraid to close the distance Joel was putting between them. Joel threw out a hand to pull her back, but Y/n smacked it away and placed her fingers around Tess’ wound. In another life, it could have been extremely well done Halloween makeup. She wanted it to be.

“Oops,” Tess tried to smile, “Right?”

Y/n rubbed her fingers against Tess’ shoulder, if these were her last minutes, she wanted her to feel human touch one more time.

“Take your bandage off,” Tess ordered Ellie.

The girl unwrapped the cloth from her arm, showing the adults her newest bite mark. It was already healing.

Tess surged forward and took Ellie’s arm, holding it up to Joel. “Look. Joel? This is real,” she pulled Ellie forward, “Joel, she’s fucking real.”

Joel and Y/n spotted it at the same time: Tess’ hands were beginning to shake.

Tess retracted her arm into her person, her breaths quickening with passion. Passion for a future she would never see.

“I need you to get her to Bill and Frank’s,” Tess stated.

“No,” Joel started to argue, a flurry of emotions hitting him at once. It was real. This was real.

“They’ll take her off your hands,” Tess continued, unstoppable in her pleas, “They’ll handle it from here.”

“No, no, no,” he shook his head, sounding like a child in denial, “I can’t. They won’t take her. They’re not gonna take her.”

“They will,” Tess insisted, “Cause you’re gonna convince them.”

“I’ll take her,” Y/n said from behind Joel, “Tell me where they are and I’ll get her there.”

Tess squeezed her eyes shut, “No, it has to be him,” she looked to Joel, “I never ask you for anything. Not to feel the way I felt, not to-“

“No,” Joel said, a kneejerk reaction. He had spent so long caring for her as much as his grief would allow him.

“Shut the fuck up,” Tess snapped, “Cause I don’t have much time. This is your chance. You get her there, you keep her alive…” she bit back her tears, “And you set everything right. All the shit we did…please say yes, Joel, please.”

Joel could feel what was left of his heart beginning to break. He couldn’t lose anyone else.

A strained gasp from one of the Infected Fireflies echoed behind Ellie, “Oh, fuck!”

With all the tranquility of a piano melody, Joel stepped forward, cocked his pistol and blew a chunk of the one-time human’s brains out.

The strands of fungus began to stretch out around the Infected’s hand. The signal had been sent. Within minutes, hordes of Infected would descend upon the State House.

Joel exhaled, realizing what he’d done and ran to the building’s door. He could hear the distant snarling and choking of the Infected. Whatever pitiful amount of time they’d possessed had just gotten slashed in half.

“How many?” Tess asked calmly.

“All of them,” he reported, “Maybe a minute.”

Y/n took a shaky breath and raised her gun to Tess’ head. Joel was quick to aim his rifle at her head.

“Don’t you fuckin-“

“Do you want me to do it?” Y/n ignored Joel, locking eyes with Tess. It wasn’t an act of anger, it was an act of mercy. She was trying to save what was left of Tess’ life.

Tess shook her head, taking stock of her surroundings and rushing around the room. She tipped over barrels of gasoline and crates of grenades, letting them spill across the floor. Twenty years of sin and her last act was to save. This was Tess Servoupolis. Not her reputation, not who she’d been forced to become to survive…her.

Joel watched, heartbreak etched in each line of his face. He wanted to scream, to cry, to punch, but time had numbed his emotions enough to be able to keep it all inside.

Tess finally came to face Joel, keeping a foot of space between them. She couldn’t handle watching the man she loved move away from her like she was…what she was.

Y/n backed up to stand with Ellie, feeling like they were intruding on an intimate moment.

“Joel…” Tess said his name one last time, knowing just how much weight the words she was about to say carried, “Save who you can save.”

He was holding so much back, so many things he wanted to say, even just to touch her one last time. His grief overwhelmed him, for both women he wasn’t able to save. But if he couldn’t heed Tess’ final wish, he’d never be able to look himself in the mirror again.

Joel took one last look at her, the two of them committing each other’s gaze to memory, and Joel turned on his heel, grabbing Ellie and dragging her away.

“No!” Ellie yelled, hitting Joel’s arm to try and break his grip, “We’re not leaving her! Get off me, you fucker!”

Y/n, let them pass, standing firmly planted in front of Tess. She wanted to say something, but nothing rivaled the weight of the moment. She wanted to thank her for her sacrifice, tell her how sorry she was that she was about to what was to come…something to let her feel some sort of compassion before she lost herself entirely.

“I-“

“Protect her,” Tess urged, staring straight past the Joel and Y/n’s resentment and into her soul, “Protect him.”

Y/n’s breath shook as she considered what Tess was asking of her. She wanted to know the man she loved would live to see the days she wouldn’t. Y/n couldn’t fault her that, it was so easy to care about Joel. If Tess was a better woman than Y/n and had earned that devotion he showered upon a select number of people, she would feel the same devotion to him till death.

Y/n wanted to run in the opposite direction, but she wasn’t so heartless that she wouldn’t obey Tess’ last request. She nodded, pouring out her condolences through her pained stare, and took off the same way that Joel and Ellie had.

Leaving Tess to die.

She found them outside, Ellie still fighting Joel tooth and nail. Y/n pressed her hands to Ellie’s back and urged her forward, running alongside them in a desparate effort to escape the tidal wave of Infected encroaching.

They’d put a safe amount of distance between them and the State House when the building exploded.

Joel wrenched Ellie forward to shield her, letting him and Y/n take the heat of the blast. They drew their guns, waiting for a stray Infected to pass through the violent flames, but none came. Tess had succeeded.

The three of them stayed perfectly still, except for their heaving chests, watching the fire consume the State House. Twenty years ago, Joel would have allowed himself to break down. He would have let his knees hit the dirt, his fists ball and his grief would have spilled out of him as if he was made of it.

Twenty years ago, he could feel whatever he wanted. But to survive, you had to bury your desires with the dead. Joel knew that better than anyone.

And so, skipping the eulogy and going straight for repression, Joel lowered his rifle and walked away.

Y/n, who wasn’t as hardened as her ex-love, could no longer keep her tears at bay. She crouched down in the dirt, pressing her hands to her lips in a praying position, and allowed a silent rain stream down her cheeks. Losing anyone was awful, but losing someone who wanted redemption, who wanted to atone for their sins and leave the world better than they’d found it…that was tragic. Tess had sacrificed herself to save them, to save Ellie, to save a future she could only hope came to pass. Perhaps Joel couldn’t mourn her, Y/n knew his grief was the match that lit his whole being ablaze, but she could. She would.

Ellie stood beside her, tears filling her once-innocent eyes. Her naivety had always been on life support, but it was fading with every minute she spent outside the Wall.

Deciding her momentary memorial would have to serve as enough for Tess, Y/n got to her feet and wiped her eyes. “Come on,” she whispered, her voice strained as she put a hand to Ellie’s back. She led them down the dirt, following Joel’s ghostly silhouette…

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#joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller imagine #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #the last of us fanfic #the last of us imagine #the last of us fanfiction #twenty years later

2K notes · View notes

cinewhore · 10 months

Text

The Only Exception - extended cut

Pairing: Michael Berzatto x fem!reader - Carmen Berzatto & fem!reader

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: mentions of drinking, toxic family dynamics, smut 18+ (groping, male receiving oral, penetration, unprotected sex, facial cumshot), canon death, angst and fluff.

A/N: I wrote something a tad bit sadder and decided not to post it because the episode (s2 ep 6) was bad enough but why not? Dedicated to my lovely friend @spiderispunk. No beta cause I don’t wanna. Ignore all spelling errors. Hope y'all enjoy. Credits to the gif creator.

Nothing ever goes smoothly with the Berzatto’s.

Why you thought this holiday dinner was going to be any different was beyond any rational comprehension.

Trying not to be a complete klutz and ruin the side dish you’ve been working on the entire day, you delicately balance it in your left hand while adjusting your scarf tighter around your neck with your right. Putting a pep in your step, you round the corner from where you parked, spotting the stoop instantly.

It was a rare sighting to see all three of the Berzatto siblings together. With Carmy being away at culinary school, Mikey doing his own thing with the restaurant and Natalie living her life, one person always missed the other. It warmed your heart to see just how much they cared about each other, even if they didn’t show it in a normal or healthy way.

“Is that who I think it is?” Mikey’s voice booms over the light traffic passing by, handing Carmy the cigarette he was puffing on.

You crack a smile, despite it feeling like your lips were stuck together due to the cold weather. “Sorry, I’m a bit late. Fuckin’ cat had my keys.”

“How many times did I tell you to get rid of the cat?” Mikey leans down to kiss you but you turn your head, forcing him to peck you on the cheek instead.

“C’mon, baby.” he drawls, throwing you a bashful smile.

You huff out a sigh, lowering your voice. “You know I hate the smoking.”

Mikey nods, face fading into something serious before vanishing. “I know you do. You didn’t bring fish, did you?”

Side-stepping the tall Berzatto, you get pulled into a hug by Natalie, followed by Carmen.

“Hello, gorgeous! It’s so good to see you!” Natalie kisses you on both cheeks before making the move to grab the dish out of your hands. You pull back, shooting her a look.

“Nat, please. I got it.”

“Are you sure?” you watch as her bottom lip quivers a bit. You steal a glance at Carmy, who just shakes his head..

“Fuck. How bad is it?” you gaze at the disheveled trio, awaiting an answer.

Finally, Mikey breaks the silence.

“It’s at a five. Six, at best.”

You lick your lips, rocking back and forth on your heels. “That’s not too bad, right?”

“Right.” Carmy agrees, with Natalie humming in agreement.

“Just don’t fucking ask if she’s doing ok.” Mikey glimpses at his sister, placing hand on your lower back to guide you into the house.

You take a deep breath and exhale through your nose, plastering a smile on your face before entering the shit show.

You’d only been there an hour and you were called the wrong name three times, objectified, cursed at and now Fak was trying to get you to put up five hundred dollars for baseball cards.

Listening with great intent, nodding at all the right times, twirling the wine in glass in your hands desperately wanting to get another refill had your social energy spent.

“We could make you a lot of money, cousin.” Fak goes on, nudging his brother for support.

“Yeah-yeah! Think about what you could do with fifteen hundred bucks! Cold hard cash!” Theodore chimes in.

“Wow, no, yeah this-this sounds like the opportunity of a lifetime.” you murmur. Don’t take it the wrong way, you loved Fak. His personality was infectious, you’ve never seen him get overly angry despite the other guys giving him shit and he genuinely goes out of his way to help everyone. Back when you first started dating Mikey and moved apartments in the city, Fak volunteered to make sure your place was in tiptoe shape and refused payment.

Just then Steve, Michelle’s husband, passes by and you seize your opportunity.

“Steve! How are you?” you beckon him over, scooting over on the tiny couch so he could sit beside you.

“Ah, yes. Mikey’s girl who we aren’t sure how he managed to snag. Good to see you again.”

You brush off his comment with a tired smile, gesturing to Fak and his brother. “So, these guys have a proposition for you, right?”

You nod enthusiastically with them, giving Fak a secret wink.

“Oh, yes! Yes! Do you like baseball cards, Steve?”

“On that note,” you stand up and maneuver yourself out the nook. “I’m gonna go get a refill. Leave you gentlemen to handle business.”

Mocking a military salute, you dash towards the kitchen bypassing other members of the family.

Donna flurries around the kitchen, shouting instructions to no one in particular. You didn’t greet her as soon as you came in, knowing how she gets around this time of the year. To be honest, you were sure that she didn’t exactly like you.

“Donna, my goodness! You look wonderful.” you lay the complement on sweetly, smiling brightly. If you don’t wilt in her presence, she wouldn’t be able to smell the fear on you.

Donna swivels her head to look at you, cigarette dangling from her lipstick smeared lips. Eyes lined in thick mascara, her disapproving expression ripples through you. You smile wider.

“I brought over a little casserole. I figured it would compliment the fish nicely.”

Shifting to face you fully, Donna crosses her arms. “Casserole? What casserole?”

You point to the tin foiled dish. “That one. Mikey brought in, did he not tell you?”

She scoffs. “Yeah, just like he told me about him breaking things off with what’s her name.”

“Anna.” you mutter, swallowing the lump that quietly made its way up your throat.

“Yeah, Anna.” Donna turns back to the task at hand, haphazardly swinging a knife about. “I liked her better.”

Forgoing your much desired glass of wine, you stalk out of the kitchen. On the outside looking in, the Berzatto’s appeared to be your average family. The warm glow of the lights shining out into the frost covered sidewalks invited you in all those years ago and once inside, you then realized why people were so hesitant to accept invites or why Mikey refused to bring up his past.

You didn’t have this growing up. Your family life was much quieter, mom and dad both kept to themselves. Distant cousins never visited for the holidays and you were an only child so there weren’t any siblings to fall back on.

It was boring.

Drove you crazy.

So when the Berzatto’s welcomed you in with open arms (well, some of them) you threw yourselves to the wolves willingly. It helped you grow a thick skin, talk over people and man handle the biggest guys in the room. For that, you were thankful.

A hand reaches out and grabs your wrist, dragging you away from everyone and up the stairs. Mikey is headstrong in his quest to get you alone, not caring to see if you were keeping up the pace. You both stagger inside his room, the door shut soundly behind you, followed by the lock turning.

Mikey doesn’t give you a second to react, mouth leaving open tongued kisses along your jaw and collarbone, hands working at tugging up your skirt.

“Mikey, baby, baby, wait-” you plead, backing up to create space between the two of you.

He flops onto the bed, hands on his knees, fingers raking through his hair again and again.

You’re careful as you sit next to him, scratching your own fingers along the center of his back. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” is all he utters.

“Bullshit. Talk to me.”

He doesn’t have to say anything else, you get it. The party continues below you both, profanities and insults flying like it's nobody's business. It was too much. For Mikey, Camry, anyone. The more time you spent with his family, the more you realized why Carmen never came back to visit.

Why Mikey feels trapped.

“I know.” you whisper against his shoulder, mouthing pressing in tiny kisses. You lift his head up with both of your hands, cradling his face gingerly. The tiredness exudes for nearly every crevice, eye bags worn and solidified. You use your thumb to smooth out his forehead, laughing softly when he wrinkles it more.

“You’ll always have me, Berzatto.”

“I don’t deserve you. Never did.”

You tut. “That’s not true. You’ve always had me. From the moment you sold me that greasy, sloppy sandwich down at The Beef. I was a goner.”

Mikey chuckles, leaning into your hands more. “I got you something.”

Your eyes go wide, brows forming a skeptical look. “Is that so?”

Mikey flickers his eyes down to his pants and you scoff.

“Wow, Michael. Are you gifting me your penis? Again? I must’ve been too nice this year.” you gently slap his face is mock anger.

“Haha,” he deadpans. “Try my pockets, detective wiseass.”

You let go of his face and rummage through his pants pocket, producing a ball of torn tissue paper, kept together by a single piece of tape. Confused but curious, you unwrap the gift, facing dropping as your eyes find his.

The tissue tumbles to the ground, revealing a necklace. At the bottom of it dangled a charm of…cheese?

“I remember the first day you came into the shop. Like a goddamn bat outta hell. Never seen anything like it. You ordered a grilled cheese sandwich and asked for, um, what was it?”

“Havarti-”

That’s right! Fuckin’ havarti cheese! What the hell even is that?”

“How do you own a sandwich shop and not provide a variety of cheeses, I don’t understand it.”

Mikey gawks at you. “Babe, we’re called The Beef. Not the cheese. But you wanna know what I did?”

You encourage him to finish, as if you didn’t know the rest of the story.

“I told you to wait and-and I was gonna go check in the back. I booked it out of the back door, all the way down to Malik’s corner store and bought the most expensive cheese he had. I rush back to the shop and guess what?”

“You made the sandwich.”

Mikey’s face cracks into the biggest grin you’d ever seen, eyes crinkled at the corners. “I made the goddamn sandwich. Brought it out to you myself. Told you that we didn’t serve grilled cheese but for you, I’d make an exception.”

Your eyes well over in tears and you blink rapidly to keep them from falling. “That’s the sweetest thing anyone has done for me, ya know.”

“You’re telling me all I had to do was buy you some cheese to get in your pants? Hot damn.”

You playfully shove Mikey back against the bed, crawling over to straddle him. “Well, it worked after a while, didn’t it?”

Mikey thrusts upwards, growing erection sliding against your damp underwear.

“It sure did.”

He grabs the back of your neck, surging up to slot his mouth against yours. You aren’t delicate in the way you claw at him, nails digging into his tanned flesh. Pushing up your skirt, Mikey palms your ass, stroking it before landing a hard smack against it. You moan into his neck, biting down.

“Perkiest ass I’ve ever seen, baby, shit.” Mikey groans, voice an octave deeper.

“And it’s yours. All yours.”

Mikey secures the back of your head as he flips the two of you over, pushing you down on your stomach. You do the rest of the work for him, sticking your ass up, and curving your back into an arch.

Mikey readily pulls down the zipper of his pants, hands readjusting his briefs until he is able to free himself. Spitting obscenely in his palm, Mikeuy shoves your panties to the side and rubs his silvia across your slickness. You buck back into him, whimpering when he graces you with a lone finger to loosen you up. You whine, and wiggle your ass some more, ready to receive all that he was going to give you.

“Gonna give my baby what she wants, don’t you worry.” Mikey purrs, aligning himself to enter you. He slides in easily, the strained sigh as he fully situates him inside you never ceases to make you wetter.

You pull yourself up so that you were resting on your hands, peeking over your shoulder to catch a gaze at Mikey as you being to fuck him. He was enthralled at the sight of his cock pumping in and out of you, the way you were able to handle him without saying a single word.

He would love to take his time and thoroughly explore your cunt but time is of the essence. Wrapping his right hand around your neck once again, he yanks you up into a deeper arch, left hand on your hip in a deathgrip. He meets your thrusts with his own, dropping his left leg down on the floor to gain some balance.

Between the familial bickering creeping up the stairs, all that could be heard was the squelching of your pussy and the labored breathing of Mikey, muffled praises spurring you on further.

He slaps your ass again and you tighten around him, eyes rolling to the top of your head as you attempt to hold onto his arms for dear life.

“Mikey, oh fucking god, baby you’re gonna make me come so hard. Please, please, please!”

He answers you by sticking his fingers in your mouth and you automatically clamp down on them, sucking and gagging until spit dribbles down the side of your mouth.

Mikey picks up speed and the line breaks as you reach your peak, legs stiffening as you rear back against Mikey. He continues to fuck, albeit at a slower tempo, humming as you spasm against him.

“That’s my girl, my favorite fucking girl. Where do you want mine, huh? Tell me where you want it.”

He removes his fingers and lets them trail down to tease and pick at your hardened nipples that now poke through your shirt.

“I wanna taste. Want it in my mouth.”

“Fuck.” Mikey lets you go and you catch yourself before you fall completely face first into the bed.

“Get on your knees, now.”

You do as you're told, scurrying to position yourself on your knees in front of Mikey. Mouth open and head tilted back, you let a hand caress your breast as the other slithers up his thigh.

Mikey is affectionate as he goes to grab the back of your head, other hand tirelessly stroking his cock. A vein pops out of forehead as he grunts, a few milky droplets coating your face, before steady ropes accompany it. A few of them land in your mouth and you swallow them all eagerly.

Mikey tries to calm his breathing, watching you with hooded eyes as you lick at the tip of his cock, cleaning up the remnants of yourself off of him. You take him down all the way to the shaft for shits and giggles, pulling off of him with a low pop.

“Goddamn devil.”

You wink, swiping at the mess you could feel dripping on your face. Mikey helps to clean you up, both fixing each other’s clothes to appear less wrinkled. Seemingly ok with your appearance, you start to head downstairs but Mikey stops you.

He steps behind you, lifting up the necklace he got you. He fastens it, walking to your front to admire it.

You grab his hand and bring it to your mouth for a kiss.

“It’s you and me, Berzatto.”

“You and me.”

Inhaling heavily, you open the door to reenter the Berzatto family chaos, a new found confidence lighting your path.

That was roughly four years ago.

Or maybe five.

You stopped counting.

You had been going about your day as usual, still getting settled into your new apartment. Boston was a whole new monster to wrangle with but you managed to get by so far. It didn’t feel like home but you figured over time, it would. A lie that spun around and around in your head until it sounded like a foreign language.

The invitation throws you off guard as you thumb through your mail, ignoring the pile of bills for the yellow envelope sealed with a stamp of a bear.

Your hands twitch a little as you instantly drop everything else you were holding onto the overly crowded dining table. You don’t think twice as you rip the stamp off, clawing to get the card out.

Missing you. The Bear opens soon, I’d love to have you come out for a pre-opening. Hoping that you’re doing well in Boston, we have so much to catch up on. My number is still the same.

See you soon - Sugar

P.s. - Fak says hi.

The bottom of the card details the information for the restaurant and the date of the opening. You bite at your lip, glancing around your apartment. It was a dream: your new job, the neighborhood, the coffee shop down the block with the best matcha latte. It was quiet, not complicated and yours. All yours.

Going home, back to the place you ran from seemed stupid. Everything would unravel and you’d fall to pieces again but this time no one would be there to put you back together.

Reaching across the mess, you fish out your laptop. This was a reunion worth unraveling for.

You’re late. So fucking late. It wasn’t your fault though! The plane got delayed and then there was the traffic and you smelled like an airport and desperation so you rushed to the hotel to change. One thing always leads to another but it didn’t matter anymore because you were stepping out of the taxi, smoothing down your coat and anxiously fixing your hair.

You take powerful strides as you approach the restaurant, mouth agape. You couldn’t believe it. What used to be The Beef, the place you spent the majority of your time after work fucking with Richie until Mikey got off, was gone. It was now replaced with a groomed, streamlined, chic replica that stuck out like a sore thumb amidst the rest of the block.

A car horn sounds and you’re brought back to reality, invitation gripped tightly in your hand. You mumble one last prep talk to yourself before pushing the door open.

A wave of amber and vanilla hit your nostrils first, eyes picking out the candles that were placed around the dining area. The place wasn’t packed but you knew this was because you were late and not because it wasn’t good. If you knew anything about Carmen and his career, it was that the fucker knew how to make good food. He just didn’t know that he did.

A woman clad in all black smiles as she walks up to you, a slight quizzical look on her face.

“Forgive me ma’am but I’m afraid that this is a private event. The restaurant will open to the public soon.”

You shake your head, waving the letter in front of her face. “Oh, I was, uh, invited. I’m so sorry I’m late, my plane-”

Richie strides out of the kitchen, stopping in his tracks once he sees you.

“Holy fucking shit.”

You couldn’t help the amused grin that crosses your face, taking in the new and improved Richie. You hate to admit it but he looks good. Tapered cut, fitted black suit, not too heavy on the cologne and simple accessories to match? What the hell did you miss?

“Holy fucking shit.” you whisper, voice morphing into a high pitched squeal as Richie hugs you, lifting you off the ground.

Upon putting you down, you stand back, motioning wildly at Richie’s figure.

“Oh my god! Are you in a cult? Did they brainwash you? Will the real Richie please stand up.” you clap in front of Richie’s face a few times, to which he swats away.

“A real fucking comedian, huh?” He pulls you into a hug again, inhaling your scent.

“How have you been, cousin?”

Richie pulls away, leading you to a fully set table. You thank him as he pulls out your seat, taking the one across from you. He shrugs at the question, gaze traveling around the restaurant.

“Been busy. Bustin’ my balls to keep this place in tiptop shape.”

You nod, momentarily distracted by a server filling up your wine glass. You pick it up and take a whiff, eyebrow raised. A classic white. Your favorite.

“This is really nice, like, I expected something but this,” you take a moment. “This is something else entirely.”

“Yeah, it is.”

Richie admires you as you sip your wine and continue to look around, getting washed over in nostalgia. He remembers the good days. The days were Mikey was happy, the two of you bantering while making dinner for him, Eva and Tiffany. You were making sure he stayed the course, keeping him sober. Then, for whatever reason he just couldn’t fucking understand, it collapsed. He lost everything he never really had in the first place.

Natalie barges from the back of the house a few seconds after, screaming at the top of her lungs the second she sees you. You both speak over each other, holding each other tightly and taking turns petting Natalie’s stomach.

“Oh my god, Nat! You’re going to be a mom!” you exclaim, hands pressed on the sides of your face.

Natalie sighs, tears falling. “I’m gonna be a mom!”

“I can’t fucking believe it.”

“Neither can I. It just sort of happened.”

You nod, plopping back down in your seat while Richie gets out of his, helping Natalie sit in it instead.

“Cousin, I’m gonna get your order sorted. I’ll be right back.” Richie announces, planting a kiss on Sugar’s head before disappearing to the kitchen.

“It’s been like four years?” you say, gauging Sugar’s expression. You didn’t mean for her to get caught up in your mess once you moved away but she was the only constant reminder of Chicago that you had and you were thankful. The eldest and only daughter syndrome really popped off with her.

It’s amazing how easy you’re able to flow back in conversation with her. You catch up with each other’s lives, tiny bits of gossip filling the cracks. You avoid bringing up Donna, not wanting to tamper Natalie’s mood as she happily chatters about the nursery. Dinner feels like old times and before you realize it, you were scraping your finger across the dessert plate to savor the sweet tanginess of the course.

“Where’s Carmy? I’d like to congratulate the man of the hour.” you wipe your hands with your napkin, polishing off your wine.

Sugar rocks her jaw, eyes cast downwards. You knew the two of them had a somewhat strained relationship but you figured since she decided to work with Carmy, things had settled between the two of them.

“He should be in the kitchen cleaning or probably out back smoking a cigarette. Filthy.”

You hum, sliding out from behind the table. You peck Sugar on the cheek and stroll through the kitchen, murmuring hello’s to those you haven’t seen in a while.

Sugar’s assumptions are true, Carmy perched on the concrete near the dumpster. He does a double take when he sees you but doesn’t get up from his spot.

You’re careful as you sit next to him and upon seeing that you’re wearing a dress underneath your coat he panics, trying to stop you before it’s too late.

“Hey, no, you don’t need to sit down here, we can go back inside-”

“Carmen, sit down. Please.”

Carmen nods and joins you. You dig around your coat pocket for your vape, taking a long drag before exhaling.

You two smoke in a comfortable silence for a while. Carmen was your favorite in this regard, knowing that around him you didn’t have to say anything. You could just shut the fuck up and enjoy each others presence.

Carmy nudges his knee alongside yours. “You think he would’ve liked this?”

You ponder on it a little, taking another hit from your pen. “You definitely would’ve fought over the menu. And where is the poster?”

“What poster?”

“The poster, Carmen.”

“What fucking poster? I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“The goddamn baseball poster! You know the one. It was in the office before, I think.”

“Oh, that one. Yeah, Sydney fell through the wall, tore a hole in it.”

You scoff, taken aback by Carmy’s nonchalant response. “Fell through a wall?”

“Yes but don’t worry. Richie taped it back together.”

“Fuck the poster, Carmy, how is Sydney?”

Carmen shrugs. “She’s good. Makes a good partner.”

You nod, staring back at the restaurant. “She managed to pull this shit out of your ass, color me impressed.”

Another beat.

“Hey,” you move your legs so that you are leaning against Carmy, huddling against his shoulder. “I want to apologize.”

Carmy takes the bait. “For what?”

“For leaving. I just ran. Didn’t say goodbye, didn’t look back. You didn’t deserve that. None of you did. Mikey fucking ruined me. I felt selfish though, you know? Cause I was just someone he dated but you, Sugar, Richie..y’all were his blood.”

You feel Carmy take a deep breath, head drifting over to the side so that it rests on top of yours. “You don’t need to apologize for that. You were his fucking heart, he talked about you all the time it was annoying as shit. Plus, everybody runs.”

“You didn’t.”

Carmy glares at the restaurant. “Not sure I can agree with you on that.”

“After Mikey, I just felt like I failed, you know? I tried so hard. I did. I thought we made it over the rough parts but just like that, he slipped. I couldn’t pick him up anymore.” you pluck at your legs, getting stuck in your thoughts.

“You didn’t fail him.” Carmy mumbles.

“Neither did you.”

For once, Carmy lets the words settle in his chest, soothing the frightened side of him that constantly tells him he’s not good enough. It was temporary, he knew this, but it didn’t stop him from indulging in the sentiment.

“You could stay, you know. I could take care of you.”

Camry’s offer catches you off guard and you untangle yourself from him to look in his eyes. Behind them you could see the Carmy you once knew. It hurt, knowing that he was still torturing himself over the loss of Mikey, grappling with the opening of his restaurant. So much pressure on one person who swore that he couldn’t feel it and wouldn’t dare let anyone help him carry the load.

You smooth his hair back, giving him a sad smile.

“I think it’s time I took care of myself, Carmen. Boston is good. I’m gonna be ok. You need to take care of you, man. Someone’s gotta make sure Richie doesn’t strangle himself with his new ties.”

Carmen laughs and even flashes teeth.

“By the way, what is up with that? Fucker looks like he belongs with the secret service.”

“He was mad about the forks.”

You give a half shrug. “Forks. Yup, got it.”

You weren’t sure what was going to become of The Bear but you knew that if Carmy kept his head on straight, he’d get through all the shit life put him through.

He was a fucking Berzatto.

They never went down without a fight. And god help those who fucked with bears.

#Michael berzatto x reader #Michael berzatto x fem reader #the bear fanfiction #carmy berzatto & reader #carmen berzatto & fem reader #carmy berzatto & fem reader

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chuplayswithfire · 7 months

Text

Izzy Arc Thoughts, the post!

Having now watched the three episodes three times over (some of them more than that shhhhh), I still have a BUNCH of thoughts about the rest of the crew I want to percolate on, but I had some thoughts on Izzy that I finally feel confident in, as to what's going on in with his character since the end of season 1, and especially the arc he has between Impossible Birds and The Innkeeper.

Being upfront: I wasn't sure what kind of arc the show would do with Izzy and we still obviously don't know the full scope of it, as we have five more episodes to go, but it's definitely been intriguing in a way I didn't anticipate. I figured Izzy would continue on with his antagonistic role, and he still might, but it seems like D Jenks is having fun letting Con have a role with more emotional nuance than in season one, and seeing as that role has an impact on everyone else, I wanted to share my thoughts on what I think is going on with him in the episodes that we've seen so far. I also wanted to start my in depth analysis with a character I don't care about nearly as much (being honest!) as I do the rest of the crew, but who also has a huge impact on two characters I do care very much about, Ed and Stede. I'm planning to analyze Ed and Stede in each episode before we get eps 4 and 5!

This is a long post! It features many quotes directly , transcribed by me and taken from the captions by Max. I used a read more because the whole thing is over 6k in length and analyzes the dynamic presented between Izzy and Ed and Izzy and Stede presented in episodes 1-3 of season 2 of Our Flag Means Death. If the read more doesn't work, that is not on me, sorry.

Alright, so recap: when we left Izzy, he had lashed out at Ed for the person he was choosing to become and the manner in which he was expressing himself and his feelings - the blanket fort, the binging sweets, the singing for the crew, the sharing his feelings and asking to be called Edward, the encouraging a talent show, and then, the cleaning up and comfortably wearing a colorful printed robe of nice, soft fabric. (Quotes: "I should have let the English kill you. This, whatever it is that you've become... is a fate worse than death." "(growled) No. This, this is Blackbeard. Not some (breath) namby-pamby in a silk gown, pining for his boyfriend.”) When these insults get the aggressive reaction from Ed that Izzy associates with the version of Ed he prefers, he encourages him with a smile, hand cupping Ed's cheek, and choking out "There he is." Ed shoves his hand away, backing away with a closed off expression, and Izzy's smile dies and he closes the distance between them. He states what he wants from Ed, makes a threat, and walks away without waiting for a response. (Quote: "Blackbeard is my captain. I serve Blackbeard. Not Edward. Edward better watch his fuckin' step.”)

The next time we see Izzy, Ed has donned his leathers, made his face up with dark make up to look more fierce, and is cutting off Izzy's pink toe and feeding it to him. We know from episode 9 that cutting off toes and feeding it to people was a classic Blackbeard move. For Izzy, this is several things: 1) confirmation that Blackbeard is back, the one who would never let a threat stand and does a good maim 2) a punishment for said threat (Quote: "Threaten me again, ever... I'll feed you the rest. Understand?" "Y-Yes, Blackbeard.") 3) a confirmation that he has his boss back, that whatever Stede has done to his boss' brain is over.

We get confirmation of that third point when Izzy speaks with the crew as they're getting rid of Stede's books and possessions - "Blackbeard is himself again," with a broad smile. Later, we see Izzy abandon the crew on a small island, presumably on Ed's direct orders, as he waves goodbye to Bonnet's playthings - them - as they depart. Izzy has a gun as he stands beside Ed, and they're watching as Frenchie finishes the new flag and hoists it.

That's where we left Izzy in Season 1: standing besides Ed as Blackbird returns to being Blackbeard for a brand new era of being Blackbeard, greatest pirate who ever lived, terror of the seas.

And when we return to the show, that's kind of what we get. Edward is being Blackbeard and Blackbeard is the terror of the seas, a Wanted Poster with so many crimes they're covering both sides of the poster (and yeah some of them are very silly, what midwifery was Ed up to, exactly-), and yet, Izzy is not happy when we see him.

What I think the show works to establish in episode 1 is that what Izzy wanted back was the man he saw as the old Blackbeard, who wasn't afflicted by these feelings of love or softness or "weakness", which he views as something that Stede Bonnet inflicted upon Edward. We know that, because it's how he phrased it to Chauncey - that "[Stede] had done something to [his] boss's brain". He seemed to view these feelings as something akin to an infection from Stede, that was corrupting the Blackbeard he knew and respected to something less than. Izzy wanted the old Blackbeard back and he thought that when Ed took his toe and fed it to him, said he'd killed Lucius, all that I recapped, that he'd gotten just that. A return to his preferred normal, where everything makes sense exactly as he thinks it should. Ed back to normal, it's Blackbeard time, getting rid of the dead weight and all that.

Except that's not what he's gotten at all, and I don't think Izzy had fully grasped why prior to episode 1. He has suspicions, of course, but it takes him a while to build to a confrontation about it.

Because see, Ed switched from healthier coping mechanisms like crying, eating sweets, creative outlets, and talking to people about his feelings to much more acceptably pirate means of coping with his feelings - violence in the form of raids and drugs (rhino horn, which thought people joke about it being an aphrodisiac, has a variety of believed medical uses in Vietnamese medicine, treating ailments including hangovers, fever, gout and potentially terminal illnesses, like cancer or stroke). Raids and drug use should be totally acceptable means of managing your feelings as a pirate, except that Ed is going too far with them, pushing the crew to the breaking point and beyond. They're raiding every day, they're not taking breaks, they're not having days off, they're chasing down ships as fast as they can take them down and now they're going to be throwing away loot. Izzy is realizing that actually he has not gotten the Blackbeard he wanted and things are not great. He's also lost at least two more toes.

He and Ed have an early exchange - Izzy looking sickly, skin sallow, what appears to be hair dye or make up trickling from his hairline, Ed prepping and snorting rhino horn like it's cocaine:

Izzy: "The crew are lookin' a tad worse for wear.” Ed: "Did everyone get cake?" Izzy: "Yeah, they got cake." Ed: "Well they're, they're welcome to have some rhino horn. Just ground up a fresh batch." (snorts rhino horn) "Oh fuck! You want some?" Izzy: "No, not right now, no." Ed: "Well then, get back to work ya fuckin' lightweight!" [cut to Izzy among the crew] Ed voiceover: "Can't do the job, someone else will."

Throughout this scene, Izzy looks increasingly distressed as Ed does drugs - he looks his most distressed during the voice over however, his jaw flexing, his eyes watery.

This is what appears to have shaken him the most - the idea that he's replaceable, that Ed can and would get rid of him in favor of someone else. It's obviously incredibly distressing to Izzy, in a way that I genuinely don't think the loss of his toes was. Izzy clearly values his relationship with Edward - while in season 1 he definitely wanted a promotion and liked the idea of authority, of being captain, the fact that he was swiftly mutinied and nearly murdered seemed to put a kabosh on his ambitions, and reoriented him to staying at Ed's side. We know that Izzy at least believes that loyalty is important - we know that he thinks he's acting from loyalty when he tries to make Ed watch as his boyfriend (in Izzy's words) is murdered.

Izzy values his position with Blackbeard. He serves Blackbeard, respects him, was honored to work for a legend. And while this is supposition, he seems to have considered himself and Edward as having a close, intimate relationship that did not require words or confessions or honest expression of feeling, this kind of bond where words aren't necessary, because they're tough, manly men who don't need to express their feelings.

But.

Then we get this line. Then we get, "can't do the job, someone else will." Seven words, and they shake Izzy to his core, make him finally start questioning his until then unquestioned belief in the ways of the world and his relationship with Edward. It shakes him enough that he actually breaks in front of the crew, in a scene that's incredibly funny, but also leads to them extending him some genuinely unearned compassion, as they question the healthiness of his relationship with Blackbeard - even as Izzy is finally questioning if he has a relationship with Blackbeard.

Following his breakdown, Izzy has the crew bring the treasure above deck, but doesn't go through with making them throw it overboard. Instead, he takes those new doubts and brings them to Ed, pushing for a conversation where he is clearly for the first time in their working relationship expressing his thoughts on said relationship in word form.

Izzy: "The crew are refusing to part with any treasure." Ed: "Why?" Izzy: "Because it's fuckin' treasure." Ed: "Not good enough. (stops toying with knife, slides it in Izzy's direction.) And that's another toe. Take your boot off." (stands from seated position, walks over to Izzy.) Izzy: (starts by looking down at the ground, then slowly raises gaze to Ed's face as he speaks.) "Who am I to you?" Ed: “...What?” Izzy: “We’ve worked together for years. (sniff) You know me better than anyone has ever known me, and I daresay the same is true for me about you.” (a musical beat plays. Izzy lowers his eyes from Ed’s face, looking in the middle distance.) Izzy: I have (several second long pause) love for you, Edward.” Ed: (starting as Izzy is speaking, right after the word love) “Oh, come on.” (walks away from Izzy, circling around him.) Izzy: I’m worried about you. We all are. The atmosphere on this ship is completely poisoned.” (pause) “But if we could all just maybe (pause, swallow, visibly struggling with words) talk it through.” (musical beat) Ed: (slowly looks up) “As a crew?” Izzy: (face falls subtly, taking on a starker look of upset)

The scene transitions away, but let’s really dig into all of this for a second, because this is crucial. This is Izzy going from matters between us are unspoken but profound to I have doubts and I am verbalizing my thoughts in the hope that they will be assuaged. Izzy is expressing aloud his thoughts on their relationship for the first time, because as Izzy puts it, he thought he knew Edward better than anyone. He thought he understood him better than anyone else alive. Now, we know that Izzy doesn’t understand Edward already - we’ve known that he doesn’t actually see the person Edward all along, but this was made especially clear in episode 6, where his voiceover notes that he is “starting to suspect that Edward has no intention of ending Stede Bonnet’s life”, at a point in time when Ivan and Fang are confident the plan is off and everyone else seems pretty clear there’s a co-captaining effect going on.

The point is that all this time, Izzy has been acting from a place of assuming he knows Edward best of anyone in the world, that he understands him, that he can follow what’s going on with him and that they are intimately bound together, in this deep and unspoken love for each other that doesn’t have to be said allowed, but only has to exist, unacknowledged but deeply felt.

But then Ed said that he could be replaced. Then Ed said that he could find someone else to do Izzy’s job.

And this introduced doubt into Izzy’s mind, for the first time. This is what made Izzy verbalize all these things - what made him ask who he is to Ed, what made him state that he has love for Ed, that he worries for Ed, that he and Ed understand each other better than anyone else… because now he has to say them aloud, because he has to be reassured that these things are true.

That he is someone important to Ed. That Ed has love for Izzy and knows that Izzy has love for Ed. That Ed understands Izzy, that Ed knows that Izzy understands Ed. For years, he has thought that he and Ed understood each other in this profound way, that they alone truly knew the other, and he has to question if that’s true.

He’s being vulnerable, in a way vaguely akin to the vulnerability Ed offered in episode 10, and it clearly doesn’t land. He wants reassurance that this deep and profound love and intimacy he was so sure was there, is real, and Ed can’t give him that reassurance because it’s not true. Not in the way Izzy was so sure it was. Not in the way he ruined Ed’s life to believe.

Izzy finally decides to put himself out there, and all that Ed gets out of it is the echo of Stede Bonnet, and it makes Izzy’s face fall like a rock. There’s the answer he didn’t want: the relationship he believed he had with Ed is not there, and Ed is still, utterly, truly, fixed in his feelings for Stede Bonnet.

(and like just to clarify, I really don’t feel bad for Izzy here - he doesn’t have the relationship he wants with Ed because he’s never tried to really understand Ed, or listen to him, and he isn’t what Ed wants in a partner, but, objectively, Izzy does make himself vulnerable here, and he’s shot down, because Ed just doesn’t return his feelings)

Which leads us into the continuing scene. Ed goes to confront the crew about the atmosphere of the ship being poisoned, which everyone denies at gun point, leading Ed to shoving the gun under his chin and having a little conversation with himself, unsettling everyone around.

Ed: “I know who we should ask, ol’ Blackbeard. Hello mate. You think the vibe on the ship is poisoned? I don’t know, Blackbeard. Maybe a little toxic sometimes. Maybe it’s a bit uncomfortable sometimes. You do make the crew a little bit uncomfortable sometimes. They think you’re crazy. Well, I’m not crazy. I don’t feel crazy. I feel pretty fucking good actually.” (the camera is focusing on the faces of all the crew as he gives this monologue, gun still cocked under his chin.) Izzy: “Fucking End!” (Screamed at Ed’s back) Ed: (slowly turns to Izzy.) Crew: (Fang looking shocked and saddened. Frenchie shakes his head very minutely, looking at Izzy.) Izzy: “The atmosphere on this ship is (word drawn out) fucked.” (working his jaw, looking down and to the side as he says this.) “Everyone knows why.” Ed: (nods once, sets his chin, walks forward.) “Well I don’t. Enlighten me.” Izzy: (smiling with mouth shut, suppressing a laugh. Shrugs.) Your feelings for Stede fuckin’ Bonnet.” Ed: (Nods as soon as Izzy says Stede’s name. Shoots him in the leg.) Izzy: (cries out in pain drops, clutching his knee.) Ed: “Frenchie.” Frenchie: “Yes?” Ed: “Congratulations, you are now first mate.” Frenchie: “Oh, no. I don’t, I don’t think I’m qualified.” Ed: “‘course you are mate. You can start by cleaning up that mess.” (tilts head towards Izzy. Turns to rest of crew, onlooking.) “And the rest of you, you throw this shit overboard and get suited up.” (claps twice, turns away.) “We’ve got a record to break.” Izzy: (still groaning in pain.)

So that was a lot.

Izzy has realized, over the course of this episode, that his relationship with Ed is not what he thought it was, is not what he wants it to be, and that Ed is still and probably always will be, in love with Stede fuckin’ Bonnet. This is why Izzy decides to say what he believes to be true - that the atmosphere is fucked because of Ed’s feelings for Stede. It’s important that we know this is not actually true - while Ed being ghosted by Stede did start his spiral, Ed was able to stop that spiral with the help of community and reaching for healthy coping mechanisms. Ed spiraled again after Izzy intervened, insulting, threatening, and demeaning him as discussed in the recap, and the spiral isn’t about his romantic feelings - it’s about, as s2e3 The Innkeeper firmly establishes, his feeling fundamentally unloveable and monstrous. Throughout s2e1, Ed is clearly denying the crew days off and meaningful rest out of pursuit of as many raids as possible. He’s trying not to touch the ground, flying high both via drugs and adrenaline, and his exchange with Frenchie at the end of the impossible makes it clear he doesn’t want to stop.

It’s also very important, that throughout this entire thing, the only crew member Ed actually hurts is Izzy, who doesn’t actually object to losing his toes. Now, I’m on record for being one of the many people who think Izzy is actually glad that the toe scene happens - I don’t think he actually especially wanted to lose his toes, but, he was glad to get back the Blackbeard who would cut off toes, and I do think he felt there was a certain intimacy in being the only one experiencing violence. Izzy is a masochist and has previously expressed delight in being the subject of violence - was very happy to be choked by Ed in s1ep10 - so while this is not safe or sane, I do think it’s consensual, in the sense that Izzy thinks this is part of their mutual love, their unspoken but deep and crucially intimate togetherness that leads them to know each other on the deepest level.

And then Ed says he can be replaced. And then Ed makes it clear that even when Izzy is emotionally vulnerable, Ed’s heart is with Stede. And Izzy realizes, he doesn’t have that place with Edward that he thought he did. He doesn’t have that special relationship. This is not intimacy, for Ed. And Ed shooting him and turning away isn’t even the final nail in that door.

Because, in s2e2, Izzy is still alive. The crew has hidden him in the walls and are trying to preserve his life, even as Izzy screams for them to kill him and calls them cowards for not doing so. The crew is gathering medicine, preparing an amputation, figuring out what to do with Izzy to try and keep him alive, and Izzy wants them to kill him. (Quote: “Kill me you fucking cowards! Kill me -”)

I would say it’s because he’s realized the relationship he devoted his life too and considered sacred, the relationship he considers most valuable… is not that to the man he loves. Ed replaced him and pirate code says the first mate should kill him. The first mate (Frenchie) refuses to kill him. Frenchie is not much for that, and neither is JIm. Both of them, having experienced a better life and place of work when Stede was captain and Ed was their co-captain, are trying to preserve Izzy’s life the best they can. Jim especially clings to the memory of when life meant something on this ship, even Izzy’s life.

Which - this makes sense coming from Jim, and I think it’s why they chose Jim, because Jim wasn’t present for Izzy being captain or the mutiny. Jim has the least complicated relationship with Izzy aside from Fang, who is notably not present in any of the scenes to do with rescuing Izzy, despite having been clearly shocked and appalled that Izzy was shot.

Izzy, is not thrilled to be being kept alive, but the fact that Izzy is kept alive, means that Izzy has to process his feelings - and face Ed again, who, having shot Izzy, mourned and sobbed, has woken up, cleaned himself up, cleaned his space out, and decided to seek death.

From Izzy.

This, I think, is the second most crucial moment in Izzy’s arc and transition, because Izzy thought he was someone of incredible importance to Ed, and he also thought that he knew and understood Ed better than anyone, and that Ed crucially, understood him just as well. He thought that even without any emotional honesty or vulnerability, they knew each other more than anyone else possibly could.

He thinks that Ed knows him.

And Ed comes to him, and they have the following exchange:

Ed: “Morning.” Izzy: “My leg?” (looking down his body.) Ed: (laughing) “Yeah. Oh, no, that’s gone now. Up in Leg Heaven.” (sets the smelling salts down, turns to look down at Izzy.) Izzy: (looks up at Ed.) “Have you come to take the other one?” Ed: “I think one’s quite enough. I just popped down to say a proper goodbye.” (reaches behind him, draws gun. Izzy: (watches the gun, looks down from Ed’s face to gun and back as Ed cocks and loads it.) Ed: (looking at the gun, not Izzy.) “Had a dream about you last night.” (flips gun to offer the handle to Izzy.) “Take it.” Izzy: “Oh, fuck off. Fuck off. Fuck off.” (slaps at Ed’s hand, looking away from Ed.) Ed: “Hold it! Hold it.” (they are speaking over each other. Gets the gun in Izzy’s hand, directs it at Ed’s head. Looking at Izzy.) “I dreamt that ya killed me. Shot me right through the skull.” (moving the gun and Izzy’s hand, drawing it to his forehead, leaning closer. The camera moves between Ed’s face and Izzy’s.) Izzy: (smiles slowly then sneers.) “Good for you.” Ed: (blinks and nods slowly.) “It was good for me. It’s just what the doctor ordered.” (The camera moves from Ed’s face to Izzy’s showing him with that frown as Ed stands over him, leaving the gun in Izzy’s hand.) “Anyway, it wasn’t even like that.” (walks away from Izzy.) Izzy: (eyes tracking Ed as he walks away.) Ed: “Not in my dream.” (moves to stand at the foot of Izzy’s bed, back to Izzy.) “I was standing.” (inhales). “Just like this.” (Closes eyes. Spreads arms.) Izzy: (from his view, Ed is standing against the light, back open, arms spread. He blinks and raises the gun audibly.) Ed: (Swallows, holding his arms out.) Izzy: (smiles, sniffs audibly, dropping the smile as he clenches his teeth. Laughs harshly, mockingly, gun raised.) “Ohhhhh, ah, you scared, Eddie? Too scared - too scared to do it yourself? Ay.” (laughs) “Go on, clean up your own fucking mess. I’m not doin’ it. I’ve been doin’ it all my fucking life.” Ed: (looks down, disappointed. blinks.) Izzy: Fuck off. Ed: (nods, swallows.) “Farewell, old chum.” (whispered. He walks up the stairs and away from Izzy.) Izzy: (watches, shaking, nodding slowly himself, breath hitching.) Ed: (reaches the top of the stairs. A gunshot sounds. A creak. Ed lowers his eyes, looking down at something off camera. Nods. Exhales.) “I loved you” (a pause) “best I could.” The scene transitions from there, and the next we see of Ed, he is initiating plan two of suicide attempts: steering the ship into a storm and goading the ship to kill him or die with him.

But Ed’s deal is so many more posts from here. No, we’re focused on Izzy for the moment, so what did this whole exchange mean for him?

First, the thought that Ed had come to do more damage. That Ed was there for Izzy, that this was about Izzy. But it’s not. Ed has had enough of that. He notably does not apologize. Izzy notably does not seem to expect one. There is history here, and the last time they were in positions like this, the camera angle was flipped - Ed at Izzy’s right, a hand covering Izzy’s mouth, making him eat his toe and the idea that things could go as they had been, that the Blackbeard Izzy had schemed and tried to have a man killed over was back. This time, Ed is at Izzy’s left, with a gun, and he doesn’t touch Izzy except to hand over the gun.

This is where it’s so important that Izzy believed he and Ed knew each other best of all. Because in episode one, Izzy was getting worried for Ed, but it’s in episode 2, in this moment, as Ed hands him a gun, that he realizes Ed wants to die. And it’s in this moment that he realizes that Ed fully believes Izzy could. That Ed has taken these actions believing that they would lead Izzy to kill him. That Ed wants to commit suicide via Izzy, that he thinks killing Ed is something that Izzy wants, could want, could do.

This is Izzy, realizing that he and Ed don’t understand each other nearly as well as he thought. This is Izzy, realizing that Ed looks at him and sees a man who could and would kill him, when Izzy thinks that he couldn’t ever do that. This is Izzy, having the true final death knell on that relationship he believed they had, the intimacy he believed they had, the lack of a need for words. He thought all this time that he knew Ed best and that Ed knew him, and he doesn’t want to kill Ed - and he’s also hurt and angry and upset to know Ed genuinely thought he would. That Ed would come to him for this, because Izzy doesn’t think he could kill Ed, but Ed thinks he could.

In his mind, Ed should know that Izzy could never kill him, should trust him, should know without having to be told that it would never happen, but here’s Ed in the flesh, asking him to kill him.

It’s over, everything he thought was there.

And Ed? Ed did care about Izzy, in his own way, but every overture he made was denied, shot down, Izzy not interested in the bird guy, the ship, the clouds and how they contribute to a plan, the drugs, and like, Izzy is allowed to not be interested in any of those things - but these are the things Ed was interested in. These are the ways Ed tried to connect most recently, and Izzy shot them all down. To Izzy, there was a deep and intimate connection in spite of all of that. To Ed, every way he could connect with Izzy was shot down. He loved him the best he could, which wasn’t a way that could provide either of them what they wanted. Izzy had love for Ed, but that love could not be fruitful or nurturing to either of them, because it was unspoken and therefore ripe for misunderstanding.

Izzy stews down there in the ship, in his own thoughts, while Ed steers the ship into a storm and makes his last effort to die, to have it all end - to push the crew to killing him, or dying with him. And then he ties his leg up, makes his way above deck, shoots Ed in the arm to keep him from killing them all, and tries to kill himself instead, staring at Ed as he tries to shoot himself with the gun Ed wanted Izzy to kill him with. Despite the gun being aimed for the temple, he fails and falls back, leaving himself staring up as it rains on him, hiding any tears. Fang brings Ed down, and the crew gather together, Fang supporting Izzy’s weight, as Jim lifts a cannonball with a scream and prepares to bring it down on Ed’s head. Izzy watches without interfering.

EDIT: ADDED THIS SECTION:

A quick addendum: even though I watched episode 2 so many times, I didn't realize that Izzy tried to kill himself after Ed left the room! The gunshot that Ed hears is in fact Izzy trying and failing to shoot himself right then and there, in that moment that Ed departs. Izzy's forehead was so wet and the background of him falling back and water splashing was such that I truly thought that took place in the rain, and that he tried to shoot himself after shooting Ed. Thanks to @glamaphonic for letting me know. This does leave me even more certain that Izzy is motivated to do this because he has finally understood both that Edward wants to die, and that he and Edward never understood each other as well as he thought, which brings the last years of his life into question. He tried to kill himself, failed, and came up to stop Ed from bringing down the ship. It's not just that Izzy stews down there - as Ed departs, leaving Izzy behind, Izzy takes the shot. He tries and fails to kill himself, and wakes and climbs the steps to take the shot at Ed he couldn't before.

The next time we see Izzy is s1e3, The Innkeeper, when Stede crosses over to the Revenge and finds the crew amidst the wreckage. He’s eating a raw bird with the rest of the crew, and then is brought aboard the Red Flag. As Stede asks the crew about Ed’s location, Izzy watches him. He’s the only one not eating soup, hands tucked over his chest.

As Stede starts asking questions - dangerous questions for Izzy and the former crew of the Revenge - he walks over with a crutch.

Izzy: “Bonnet. Good to see you.” Stede: “Piss off, Izzy. I don’t wanna hear from you.”

Stede talks to the rest of the crew, as Izzy grimaces. Stede pays him no attention. The next time Izzy speaks up: Stede: “What about my painting? Why is it all stabbed up?” Izzy: (looking up through his hair, smiling.) “That was me.” Stede: (sighs and walks away without response.) Izzy: (blinks slowly, looking dismayed. We see him start to turn his head in Stede’s direction.)

Well, that seemed like someone trying to pick a fight, and disappointed he didn’t get one, too me. In Izzy’s mind, Stede is his romantic rival, the man Ed loves where he didn’t love Izzy, and, currently, also a threat, because if he keeps asking questions and reveals the mutiny, they’ll all be killed.

But Stede is one more thing. Stede is another dagger in Izzy’s heart, as we continue transcribing:

Izzy: “Don’t cry Bonnet. We just redecorated.” (has clearly been following Stede.) Stede: “I don’t mind, actually. I think the knives really help bring the place together.” (calmly stated before he walks away to look at the rest of the furniture.) Izzy: (drops his head, looking away as though trying to gather words.) Stede: (turns to look at Izzy.) “What’d you do with him? I know he wouldn’t have left by choice.” Izzy: (sniffles) I know you think you understand him. Stede: (interrupting) “He was either gonna watch the world burn or die trying, so which was it?” (leaning forward despite the considerable distance, still calm.) Izzy: (swallows, dips head. Starts moving forward, gritting teeth through words.) “Alright Bonnet. Have it your own way.” (stalking forward to Stede on his crutch.) “He went mad. He tortured the crew. He took my fuckin’ leg ‘cause I dared to mention your fuckin’ name.” (emphasis on the curses, slams fist when he says your name.) Stede: (in drawn breath, turns away) Izzy: “He was a wild dog, and we dealt with him like one.” Stede: “You sent him to Doggy Heaven.” Izzy: (stares in silence, head shaking. Flashes back to Ed laying in the rain, breathing out “Finally,” and laughing as Jim brings a cannonball down on him as Izzy watches. Stares. Turns to look away from Stede, face twisting. Shakes his head. Shuts his eyes. Breathes the word:) “No.” Stede: (turns to look back at him.) Izzy: “I could never do that.” (looks away, still not looking Stede in the face). “We deserved him on a beach (sniffles) left nature to do the rest. More than he would have done for us.” Stede: (turns away, breathing out.) Izzy: (continuing) “You and me did this to him. And we cannot let this crew suffer anymore for our mistakes.” Stede: (turns to look at Izzy) “Why would they suffer?” Izzy: “If your captain senses mutiny, she’ll kill us all. That’s pirate code.” Stede: (camera lingers on his face as he swallows.)

Doggy Heaven has a heavy meaning in this series, considering that Ed was supposed to send Stede to Doggy Heaven, and couldn’t because of his love for Stede. Ed couldn’t bring himself to kill Stede, but here is Stede, who Izzy views as a romantic rival, guessing that Izzy could kill Ed. Acknowledging that he, like Ed, believes that Izzy could kill Ed. Izzy, who thinks he couldn’t and wouldn’t and has love for Ed, and sees himself as loyal.

But Izzy did stand back as Ed was killed, and that’s why he reaches for dehumanizing language to defend the action - he calls Ed a wild dog and that they dealt with him like one.

(It’s the first time in the show that a white character makes a racist remark without immediate consequences. Before anyway says otherwise, yes it is always racist for white people to dehumanize a man of color. It is always racist to say a person of color is or was an animal or liken them to being an animal. He could have said that Ed was a danger to the crew in any number of ways but he reached for likening him to a creature less than human and yeah that’s a racist thing to do. I believe the show did not follow through with consequences for this action because it’s clear that Izzy is STILL trying to pick a fight with Stede.)

The commonality in all of these scenes with Stede are twofold. One, Izzy is trying to distract Stede from the truth of the mutiny and what the crew did (and the fact that Ed is still aboard the Revenge, left for dead [or as Izzy put it, for nature to do the rest]). The second is that Izzy is trying and failing to pick a fight - failing, because Stede won’t take him up on it. At all. Stede is not engaging with Izzy at this point outside of the practical matter of seeking information, and that’s all he has to spare for Izzy - he’s already told him to piss off once, and that’s as much energy as he spends on it, but Izzy comes at Stede antagonistically more than once - three times, actually, and I think it’s because if he has a fight with Stede, and Stede says all the things he’s thinking, about how awful Izzy is, how he’s a traitor, how could he have hurt Ed, any of those things, then Izzy can fight about it, and he can justify it to himself, and he can ignore the thought from now on, because it’s the same thought that Stede fuckin’ Bonnet is having, and those thoughts are worthless.

But Stede doesn’t give him that. Stede doesn’t give him a fight at all. Stede walks away from Izzy again and again and again and in doing so does not grant Izzy an out, an out that can ONLY come from Stede, because no one else is going to disagree with the mutiny.

Stede is the only one who could give him that fight, and Stede refuses. And Izzy continues to have to sit with his own thoughts and justifications and they clearly aren’t enough for him, because he’s continuing to push.

Izzy is also trying to protect himself and the crew, here. It’s very much about that. He is trying to keep himself and them from dying by being caught out for mutiny, but I think it’s interesting that it’s only here that he tries to take accountability for what he said and did to Ed, and it’s in service of avoiding what he’s actually done. Izzy says that he and Stede did this to Ed - this that resulted in, as he says, Ed going mad and torturing the crew and having to be mutinied and abandoned on the beach. Izzy needs Stede to feel equally responsible - so that Stede will help protect the crew, but also because I think Izzy is feeling guilty and has been, because he could watch Ed die, and he could hurt Ed, and he didn’t think of himself as that person, but he is and was, and thinking that he caused all of this himself is too much. Better to give some of it to Stede, and help the crew out as well as himself.

He had love for Ed, in his own way, and he thought they understood each other and had a partnership, but here’s Stede fuckin’ Bonnet, who only knew Ed for a matter of weeks, and understood him better than Izzy did and wouldn’t do the thing that Izzy did, and this is the final nail for Izzy, the thing he’s struggling with in this whole revelation that Ed didn’t have any romantic love for him, that there was no special intimate romance between them that didn’t need to be said or expressed or acknowledged with words or vulnerability to exist, because Stede takes one look at the situation and can summarize what happened. Stede knew that Ed would want to die, because you can’t actually burn the world down. You can say “burn the world or die trying”, but the only end result is dying trying.

And Izzy, I genuinely don’t think, understood that Ed wanted to die. Not until Ed offered him the gun. Not until Ed spelled it out. Izzy knew that Ed was fucked up over his feelings, but I don’t think he understood where they were leading.

But here’s Stede, and he did, and Izzy can’t take that, which is why once the truth is out and the mutineers are locked in the brig awaiting probable execution, Izzy tries to pick a fight one more time, even now that there’s nothing to distract Stede from.

Izzy: (hears footsteps and turns his head.) Stede: (comes to the brig, staring through the bars at Izzy, then the rest of the crew.) Izzy: (smiles) “Go on Bonnet, give me your worst.” Crew: (looks up at Stede slowly.) Stede: (Looks at all of them, silent and not visibly angry, somber. Tilts his head down, eyes closed. Opens his eyes, shoves against the bars and turns and walks away without a word.) Izzy: (Drops the smile. Stares forward into the distance, eyes visibly wet with tears, blinks several times).

So, clearly trying for a fight, wanting one, and continually being denied. Izzy is almost certainly grieving Ed, the relationship he thought they had, and also his leg, and Stede is the only other person here who would even possibly mourn Ed too, and Stede refuses to give him any response. Even when goaded, even knowing the truth, he has nothing to say to him. The next time Stede and Izzy are in the same room, Stede has concocted an escape plan, and doesn’t look at or speak to Izzy at all as he gives instructions and organizes the escape.

And when they have made it back to their ship, when they’re getting the wheel and rigging set for escape, they have a final conversation:

Izzy: (walks up behind Stede, who is watching the Red Flag.) “I just wanted to thank you for-” Stede: (walks away without letting him finish.) Izzy: (looks down, is left standing alone as live moves on the ship.)

Over the course of these three episodes, Izzy’s plot is realizing that he was fundamentally wrong about his relationship with Ed, his understanding of Ed as a person, and the depths of Ed’s feelings and despair. I think he’s also realizing that he was wrong about his relationship with Stede - he saw Stede as a romantic rival, and someone who hated him as much as he hates Stede, but given the opportunity to antagonize Izzy again and again, Stede refuses, because he doesn’t care about Izzy nearly enough.

Izzy has misunderstood the nature of his relationship as it were with both of these men, who are, and always were, predominantly, chiefly, and only, interested in each other.

#ofmd #our flag means death #ofmd meta #izzy hands #edward teach #stede bonnet #ofmd s2 spoilers

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leilakisakabiri · 4 months

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could u to a gavi x singer reader? she’s more outgoing and not as shy as he is and writes songs about him // dedicates them to him during her concerts and he’s just a super proud bf 💗💗

Number One (PG6)

Summary: Gavi being your biggest supporter.

A/N: Quick one! Miss him on the field already :(

Word count: 700+

Masterlist

“I can’t tell you all how much it means to me that you’re here – I love you. Thank you so much for your support!” You exclaimed, in awe of the crowd chanting your name.

“I wanna dedicate this song,” you continued smiling as the cheering intensified, “to a special someone who’s basically my muse for this whole EP, thanks for getting me famous,” you joked, “Oh, and also for making me feel loved.”

The beginning beats of your most popular song began to play and if you thought the crowd was loud before they went even crazier, screaming when they saw the camera pan over to Gavi in the VIP section, a proud smile on his face while he cheered along with your fans.

You had just confirmed the rumors that had been circulating for weeks – you were together.

You couldn’t keep the grin off your face as you sang the chorus, hearing the crowd sing along, the camera once again panning to Gavi, showing him scream-singing the lyrics with his sister, his grin mirroring your own.

You bowed once you had finished your set, thanking your audience once again. You looked over to the VIP section and made eye contact with Gavi, he immediately put his hands into a heart shape, lifting it above his head for you to see.

You felt your heart swell, usually, you would be the one doing that at his games, and it meant so much to you that he had come to support you and had done the same thing.

Without a second thought, you copied his actions, taking a final bow as you exited the stage.

Your heart was pounding, adrenaline racing through your veins.

You couldn’t believe it. You had just played your first big festival and everyone had seemed to love it.

You were in the middle of taking off your earpiece when you saw Gavi and Aurora walking towards you.

You finished unhooking yourself before you met them in the middle pulling them into a group hug.

“You were amazing Y/n!” Aurora praised you.

You let out a laugh, “Thank you! And thank you guys for coming!”

“I wouldn’t miss it for anything.” Gavi replied.

Aurora huffed, “He’s definitely not lying about that.”

You gave her a questioning look.

She sighed, giving Gavi a glare, “Gavi was so annoying, he kept rushing me. He was so worried we wouldn’t make it in time that we left an hour and a half earlier than we needed to, and he wouldn’t even let me walk around, scared that we would miss your performance, so we stood in that tent for like three hours.”

You turned to face a blushing Pablo, who was desperately trying to avoid eye contact with you, embarrassed at having been called out.

You reached out, wrapping your arms around his waist as you peered up at him, “Awh Pablo! Thank you, you didn’t have to do all that.”

He finally looked at you, hands coming to rest against your shoulders, as his fingers absentmindedly played with the ends of your hair.

“Couldn’t miss your first performance. Especially since it was dedicated to me.”

You rolled your eyes at him, “Mhm how do you know I wasn’t talking about another guy?”

He gave you an offended look, “Please Y/n. We both know that no one makes you feel the way I do.”

You felt your stomach fill with butterflies at his words, you wanted him, and he knew it.

“Am I wrong?” He asked, face inching closer to yours.

Your eyes stayed fixed on his as he moved closer, a mischievous grin adoring his features.

“Ugh enough coupley shit.” Aurora groaned from beside you.

You laughed, pulling yourself back to reality and separating yourself from Gavi even as he tried to bring you back.

“Sorry! It’s all friendly here.” You declared.

Aurora smiled, grabbing your hand, “Perfect. Well, in that case, Gavi we’ll meet you by the food carts, I have to show Y/n this stand.”

You giggled as she pulled you along, looking back to see Gavi with an annoyed expression on his face as he watched his sister pull you away.

“I’ll be back!” You yelled.

“Not soon enough.” He shook his head smiling.

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luveline · 2 years

Note

Jade!!! I’m so in awe of how you write Steve, like you capture his character so well! I was thinking about if the reader had also been dragged into the mess that is saving Hawkins and, as a result, has also unofficially been anointed a baby sitter - Steve would be all heart eyes seeing how well you get on with the kids and just how much you care for them (and how much they care for you)

thank you! Steve and you having a quiet moment between all the hubbub and just loving each other and being proud of each other for how you take care of the kids (word count: 1k) fluff and softie steve 🥺 ST4 EP 4 SPOILERS AHEAD

You try not to be too obvious about what you're doing as you stare across the room at Steve. He's sitting with his back pressed against the chair Dustin's currently slumped in, eyes blinking slowly as he attempts to stay awake.

You're opposite on the sofa between Max and Lucas, Max finally asleep. Her face is pressed into your arm. She might be drooling. You decide that this is more than allowed considering what she's just been though.

Lucas is still awake. Still worried.

"I don't know…" he confesses quietly, almost too quiet to hear despite the room's silence, "what I would have done. If something happened."

If Vecna got her, he doesn't say.

You brush your knuckles against the back of Max's hand as you twist, giving him what you hope is a soft, reassuring smile.

"Nothing happened, and nothing is gonna happen. We're gonna work this out. She's safe, Lucas. I promise," you whisper, putting on an exasperated tone. You're not sure how truthful you're being but you believe vehemently that everyone's gonna be okay. You have to.

You don't know him very well, any of them, only through Steve. They love Steve and seem to like you, and despite a big risk of going too far and overstepping, you really want to reassure Lucas.

These kids are so young, they don't realise how young they are. Growing up is traumatic enough without the constant threat of an evil power, and it shows on all their tired faces that they're stressed beyond words.

Lucas sighs and crosses his arms over his chest, reminding you of Steve. You look to him, find your brown eyed boy watching you with an earnest, fond smile stretched over his lips.

"Steve and I," you say, a little firmer, "we won't let anything happen to Max… or to you."

"I'm a great fucking babysitter," Steve agrees, voice rough with fatigue. "And so is Y/N. That's double the protection, Sinclair."

"Exactly. We've got a basement full of dorks who, including yourself, are smart and brave enough to get through this."

Lucas starts to get that look on his face despite his overall maturity that you recognise as embarrassment; too much heart to heart for a teenage boy right now. You dial it down.

"And to do that you need to sleep. Get some rest, gather your strength. The campaign isn't over," you say. Both Steve and Lucas snort at your cheesy joke.

Lucas settles down and eventually falls asleep after you make a big show of not feeling tired. "I got it," you whisper. "I'll be on Max watch."

Now, with all the babies asleep including the academics who basically saved the day, it's only you and Steve.

"Are you okay?" you whisper.

"Baby, I should be asking you that. I've been through this whole shtick three times already."

"Don't you think that's worse?" You can't imagine how scared he is.

Steve straightens up with an awful groan and sets a dead stare at you that withers your bravery almost too fast. "I'm fine. I am," you say, words riddled with a scratching weakness, like your voice might break. "I'm okay."

Steve gets up. You lift your head as he walks towards you, careful not to make too much noise. His hands are soft and very, very careful as he bends at the waist and takes your face into them, like he's assessing you.

His thumbs aligned at your jaw and his fingers cupping the underside, Steve dips his head towards his chin. "It's okay if you're scared. This is ridiculously terrifying," he says seriously. Then, less so. "Not that I'm scared. Shit's getting kind of old for me, if you know what I mean," he says, rolling his eyes.

You laugh and shake your head, eyes closing. "Don't make me laugh, I don't want to wake up the kids," you whisper.

His bravado softens. "You're good with them," he says, hands smoothing down the column of your throat, over your shoulders and up again, massaging you with a light pressure. "Really good."

"I'm just following your lead," you murmur.

He smirks. "Yeah," he says, leaning in, the heat of his lips fanning over your own, "I must set a good example, 'cos you're amazing."

He kisses you, a soft, chaste peck that eases some of the tension you're holding, his smile pressed to yours.

His fingers flex around your neck.

"Are you really okay?" he asks as he pulls away.

You don't have to think about it.

"I'm good, Steve."

"Yeah, you are."

He leans down to give you a hug, an awkward struggle because of your position and the bodies you're acting as a pillow for. You can only use one arm when you hug him back, the other sandwiched under Max's shoulders, but it's a pretty good hug, all things considered.

"You wanna sleep in my lap?" you joke into his neck.

"Don't tempt me. I miss you," he says. Your arm tightens where you're wrapped behind his neck, crushing his perfect hair.

"I miss you too."

And you do. Taking care of the kids, trying to stop whatever it is that's happening from happening, you'd never not try your hardest but you can't wait for this to be over. To fall asleep next to Steve, and to not worry that it'll be the last time you see him when you close your eyes.

You're on Max watch, but you're on Steve watch too.

Steve pats your face gently, just once, and goes back to play guard dog at Dustin's side, though he lies on his back.

Max mumbles something in her sleep. You turn to her, your heart racing at the idea that she's having a Vecna related nightmare. You're tentative as you rub her jacketed arm, hoping to soothe her through it.

"Poor kids," you murmur.

"They have you and me," Steve says quietly. "They're gonna be fine."

"Go to sleep, Harrington," you say, not bothering to turn to him.

"They're gonna be fine," he repeats, sounding both amused and affectionate at your worrying.

"I know. Now go to sleep, idiot."

"Wake me up when you're tired."

"Yeah, whatever you want."

"Wake me up when you're-" he starts again, in a tone usually reserved for the kids when they aren't listening.

"Alright, Steve. I will," you say, laughing under your breath. "Control freak."

"What did you say?"

"Nothing."

"Yeah. S'what I thought." His scathing tone is dampened by the sleepiness. Your chest fills with warm affection.

#stranger things 4 spoilers #stranger things spoilers #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things 4 #stranger things #spoilers stranger things #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve and max my beloveds #steve x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x gn!reader #steve harrington x reader fluff #steve harrington x reader fanfic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington drabble

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softtdaisy · 5 months

Text

🌲 a walk in the past l Charles Leclerc

summary. this Christmas market has been your favorite for years. today, it's just a reminder of what you lost. of who you lost.

words count. 1,895

a/n. this is the story that inspired the whole angsty Christmas series. it's massively inspired by Cindy Lou who (please listen to Sabrina's ep). it's sad. it's Charles. I hope you will love it 🫶

a very angsty Christmas l masterlist

“You really didn’t have to do this.”

Ever since you were a child, you used to go to the Christmas market every year. It wasn’t even to buy a present. Just the pleasure of walking around this stall, hearing Christmas songs and seeing the pleasure on everyone’s face when they won a game, sharing a sweet and seasonal meal or just this magic thing that seems to make all the people here happy. It was one of your favorite moments of the year and you couldn’t miss it.

Even if this year, you were close to skip it.

“If you think I would have let you alone in your apartment instead of enjoying your favorite time of the year, you were barking up the wrong tree.” your best friend replied, putting her arm around your shoulder to bring you closer.

You laughed at her gesture and appreciated this feeling of being loved. And not alone.

Something you sadly lacked these past months.

The reason you almost didn’t come this year was simple. It was Charles.

When you started dating three years ago, the Formula One season was coming to an end. You had met through mutual friends in Monaco and he always managed to see you when he came back home, sometimes even skipping time with his family for you -something you were arguing with him for.

Once he was finally free, this Christmas market was one of your first official dates as a couple. You were living a literal teenage dream, walking hand in hand with him, showing him all the places you had memories with -meaning almost everything. You let him buy your favorite sweet and a scarf that you never left after that.

And you did that every year. It was always the first date you had after the season ended. The first time you could act like a normal couple again. And even if Charles met some fans there, very few thanks to the beanie and the scarf hiding him, it still felt intimate.

One night, after you drank too much wine and were watching the fireworks, Charles told you that at least he knew where he could propose to you.

It has become your place.

Until he left.

Now it was only yours, alone.

Everything reminded you of him now. The stall with all the puppies where you were talking about adopting one and even thought about the name. The big pine tree where you added your own decoration together, like the tradition says. The photomaton where he kissed you and the picture that was still somewhere in your apartment because you couldn’t get rid of it. Or just every couple, being happy like you used to. You hated feeling jealous about these poor people who didn’t ask for anything but to spend a moment together.

It was hard to walk on the path of your biggest heartbreak.

“How about a hot chocolate?” Your friend asked you. Well pulled you because she didn’t really wait for your answer before walking to the stall. You didn’t mind. It wasn’t like you felt like making any decision anyway. You apologized to the little girl that collided with your legs and followed your best friend until you had to wait because there were too many people.

You looked around and noticed the stall with handmade Christmas decorations. You always bought something there, like your own tradition. “Do you mind if I go there while you wait?” your best friend agreed and you walked there with stars in your eyes.

Not thinking for a single second that going there would wreck your heart into millions pieces.

“Oh, miss little red beanie.” The seller laughed when he saw you, remembering the little girl you were before with your favorite red beanie, until you grew and it became too small for you. You started to look around the decorations, already noticing some new ones that you loved.

Until you heard a laugh. A very distinct laugh that you could have recognized everywhere. You still turned around to make sure you didn’t dream.

Oh how you wished you did.

Because there he was. Still looking as beautiful as before. With his outgrown brown hair hiding in his black beanie, a scarf you used to steal when you couldn’t find yours, eyes so shiny because of the cold and a red nose that you loved to tease him about. No doubt. Charles was there.

And he wasn’t alone.

You weren’t sure you wanted to look at her. To see who she was. How she could be better than you. Why did he choose her over you? Knowing would be hard. Ignoring it wouldn’t be that much better.

But before you could ever decide what you wanted, Charles turned his head. He felt a look on him.

No he had the same feeling he used to have when you were together. There was something different with you. Something magnetic that would always let him know that you were there, looking at him, even if he couldn’t see you. And it was back.

Your eyes met. And suddenly, your heart was breaking again.

You couldn’t handle the idea of being around him with his new girl. So you did the first thing that came to your mind: running away.

The perks of knowing this market by heart, you knew exactly where you had to go to avoid people and be at peace.

The con was that Charles knew it too.

“Please wait!” you heard him in your back. What a wonderful idea to have an athlete as an ex, especially one you’re trying to run away from.

You ended up stopping, not able to go anywhere else without turning around and meeting Charles. With nothing else to lose, you accepted your fate. The terrible fate that you feared these past weeks.

You really wondered if you would see Charles now that the season was over and he was around. Were there any chances that you would run into each other in such a big city? You thought you wouldn’t. You really thought you would be lucky enough to avoid this confrontation.

Apparently the universe wasn’t a fan of this narrative.

“I had no idea you would be here, I wouldn’t come otherwise.”

You laughed. How dare he? You had no idea what you hated the most. The fact he really thought you wouldn’t be there this year because of him. Or that he used this sweet and comprehensive tone like he was really sorry for you. If he was, then he wouldn’t have broken your heart out of a stupid boredom.

“Oh I’m sorry Charles” you said, turning around to finally face him “Do I bother you by being here, at my favorite place, the one I come to every year, the one I showed you because I wanted to live that moment?”

“That’s not what I meant.” he sighed, putting a hand on his neck and biting his lips.

You used to love this tic. There were always some moments in your relationship when you had a hard time distinguishing Charles the driver from Charles your boyfriend. Sure, it was the same person in the end. But the media and his PR team were creating a whole entire character around him, one that wasn’t entirely faithful to the real Charles you knew.

And then there were moments like this where he wasn’t that overly confident driver that couldn't do no wrong. He was the man that you love, scared of saying the wrong thing, conscious that everything could come to an end one day.

“So what?” you added, taking a step closer to him. It was a dangerous limit, because at any moment, the feeling of being that close would make all your feelings come back. From hate to love there was indeed one step, one you better not take if you didn’t want to come home with a heart even more broken. “If you knew I was there you wouldn’t have brought your new doll?”

You saw the change in his eyes when you said that. And oh how you hated seeing this look on his face. Because you knew it too, there was not one thing you didn’t know about him. And this one hurted, again. It was the exact same look Charles used to give when someone talked badly about you.

Suddenly, you weren’t the one being protected. You were the one he had to protect his new girl from.

“You’re being mean.” he added, crossing his arms and rolling his eyes.

“I am mean?” your voice broke at that last word. “You fucking brought her here Charles! It was our place! It is my safe place and now you ruined it! Again!” this time you couldn’t resist and hit his chest with your fist. “Why do you have to ruin everything in my life?”

It wasn’t a real question. Or at least, you didn’t expect any real answer. What could he say? Because he wanted to? Because if you can’t be happy together, you shouldn’t try to be now that you are no longer a thing? Or maybe the worst one: he just didn’t think this through. It would mean you were never important enough for him to think about the consequences.

There was no world in which Charles truly thought about you when he broke up with you at the beginning of the year. When you thought everything was alright, when you were looking for an apartment together, when you had that stupid conversation about having a family one day. He dropped it. The “I’m not sure I can’t do this anymore.” Just like that.

Did he really think about you when he couldn’t give a simple explanation as to why he couldn’t do you anymore?

A single tear fell from your eye and Charles watched it run slowly on your cheek. “I just wanted to apologize.” he whispered, taking your hand between his. But you immediately dropped it.

“That would have been a first.”

You both stayed silent for a few seconds before you started to walk back to the market. This time, Charles didn’t try to stop you. It was worthless and he knew that. You wouldn’t stop. You had enough. And even he knew that it would be unkind to try again.

You whipped the tear right before you met your best friend, standing in the middle of the road looking for you. You grabbed a chocolate cup and kissed her cheek to thank her. “Where were you?” she asked, more concerned that you thought she would be. How long did you disappear for her to have the time to buy these drinks?

You turned around and saw Charles coming back too. You watched as he grabbed her hand and gave it a kiss with a big smile. Yes. Something he used to do with you too. “Such a gentleman” you used to say when he did that. But now you weren’t the one getting your hand kissed.

“No way…” you heard your best friend say when she saw them. “This can’t be true right?” she asked you. And you wished you could reassure her.

But the truth was there. Charles broke your heart at the beginning of the year.

And he broke what was left at the end of it.

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc angst #charles leclerc story #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 story #f1 angst #my writing #a very angsty Christmas

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humblequestvinyl · 8 months

Text

dial drunk

DIAL DRUNK, FISHER BROTHERS X SISTER!READER!

APART OF THE ‘WE’LL ALL BE HERE FOREVER’ SERIES,

SUMMARY: after susannah fisher’s favorite holiday, and the fisher siblings throwing one last house party, y/n fisher dials drunk the one person she thinks could save the house.

inspired by dial drunk by noah kahan

◀ ⏸ ▶

lowercase is intentional! wc: 2.4k

warnings: heavy drinking, cursing, a breakdown, fighting & s2 ep 6 spoilers (kinda!)

a/n: i’ve been OBSESSED with 5sos lately but omg 1989tv soon??? also THE SCENE WITH BELLY AND SUSANNAH?? killed me absolutely! anyway possibly taking a quick break with this series and hopping on another on the way series quickly! <333

THE HANGOVER Y/N WOKE UP WITH THE NEXT MORNING WAS WORSE THAN SHE EXPECTED.

and definitely not where she expected to wake up.

seeing her bedroom surrounding her, with a collage of pictures, and taylor swift vinyls hanging from the wall wasn’t what she expected, but yet, here she was.

she also didn’t expect to hear yelling coming from downstairs.

so as the h/c slipped on a sweatshirt, she slowly made her way down the hall, hearing her brothers arguing– actually yelling at someone, and to say the least, she was surprised. jeremiah never yelled, and when he did he was absolutely pissed.

“you never even cared enough to come here in the summertime! this is mom’s place and the only thing we’ve got left of her!”y/n heard conrad yell as she finally made it to the entryway of the kitchen, seeing her brothers with their backs to her, but her e/c eyes met matching ones.

“what is he doing here?”y/n questioned, and her brothers heads snapped towards her, and they could see anger flash through her eyes before she locked it down, keeping a blank face.

“the bigger question is what are the three of you doing here?”their father, adam questioned as y/n pushed towards the front of her brothers, staring her father directly in the face, “you three aren’t supposed to be here and you know that!”

“and?”y/n shrugged, grabbing a bottle of water from the cabinet knowing she needed it, “it took you over a week to realize the three of us were here, and one minor was left unattended. i don’t really think us being here is that big of a deal.”

“it really is.”adam told her sternly, and she threw her hands up in the air, fed up with her father, “why! please enlighten me on why it is that big of a deal that we are here!”

“we’re here every single summer and i don’t see why us keeping that-”y/n’s rant was cut off by conrad, with a solemn look on his face knowing the news he was about to break was going to kill his baby sister.

“y/n he’s selling the house.”

y/n’s face dropped as she looked dead into her fathers eyes, knowing deep down her eldest brother was right, but she refused to believe it.

“tell me he’s kidding.”she begged, knowing that if they lost this house, the final nail in the coffin to her childhood would be gone, “tell me this is some type of sick fucking joke!”

“it’s not.”adam pressed his lips into a fine line, seeing his youngest’s face drop but no emotion escaped from his except for anger, “you three need to leave by the end of this week. all of your belongings out of the house and back to boston.”

y/n stood there for a few moments, before glancing over at conrad and jeremiah who both shook their heads, telling her there wasn’t anything they’d be able to do.

after a few moments, the h/c girl turned back to her father, with a stone cold face knowing if she didn’t her anger would take over, “no.”

“no?”adam questioned, seeing what susannah always called ‘his mini me’ staring right back at him, “i am your father y/n, i am the one in charge here-”

“mom left me a trust. i want to use it.”she reminded him, and adam shook his head, “it is my trust, it is under my name-”

“you don’t have access to it until you’re 21.”conrad spoke up, causing y/n to snap her head towards him, “beast we’ve tried everything.”

the two stared at each other, before adam grabbed his things, and walked through them towards the front door, “you three have until friday!”

y/n watched as the photos that hung of her mother and laurel shake as her father slammed the front door, and it wasn’t long before his car had left the driveway leaving the fisher siblings alone once again.

“there has to be something else we can do.”y/n broke the silence as she started to pace the kitchen, “there has to be fucking something!”

“there’s nothing else that we can do n/n.”jeremiah spoke up, with worry filling him knowing his baby sister was about to snap, “we’ve tried absolutely everything.”

“there has to be something else!”she yelled, leaving her brothers standing there in shock, before she pushed past them, grabbing her phone and wallet, leaving the house.

as they always said, like father, like daughter.

—-

IT WAS HOURS BEFORE Y/N HAD RETURNED BACK TO THE SUMMER HOUSE.

doing everything she could to brainstorm to try and get the house to stay in their possession, and not go to some random family who wouldn’t make the same memories that they had.

when she finally returned back to the house with another coffee in her hand, she noticed a different car in the driveway that hadn’t been there when she left. walking into the house, she heard a laughter coming from the kitchen, just like how it should’ve been.

“i’m telling you as soon as y/n get’s back we’re planning this out.”jeremiah chuckled right as y/n peaked her head into the kitchen, and a small smile spread across her face seeing some of her favorite people.

“what the hell are you two doing here?”y/n questioned as belly conklin tackled the girl into a hug, and she saw steven chuckling in the background.

“one last summer blowout at beck’s house.”conrad told her, causing a bigger smile to spread across her face knowing they were about to have the time of their lives, “tomorrow night around 8.”

“when do we start decorating?”y/n questioned with a shimmer of joy in her eyes, something the fisher boys hadn’t seen in almost two months.

“we go shopping tomorrow, but for tonight we’re just going to enjoy everything.”steven explained, before giving the girl a wide smile,

“now come here, i still haven’t gotten a hug yet!”

—-

IT WAS OVER TWENTY-FOUR HOURS LATER THAT BOTH BELLY AND Y/N SAT IN Y/N’S ROOM GETTING READY FOR THE PARTY,

both in retro outfits, and belly sat in front of the h/c girl, putting purple eyeshadow on her to match the shirt she was wearing.

“so how are things with you and emerson?”belly brought up as she went to grab another color, and y/n shrugged, not really knowing how to answer that question, “its going.”

“i hadn’t talked to her since the funeral, and then two nights ago she was at the same party i was at, and i was drunk.”y/n explained as belly finished up the girls eye makeup, and went to grab lipstick, “and the next morning i woke up to find out that my dad was selling the house.”

“try and talk to her tonight.”belly told the girl as she painted her lips a dark red, “she loves you a lot y/n and she knows that you didn’t push her away for shits and giggles.”

“if i’m not so drunk by the time we can talk then yeah, i’ll talk to her.”y/n mumbled as belly gave the girl a soft smile knowing that she never meant to push away the one girl she loved the most.

quickly standing up, belly helped the sixteen year old up, and wrapped her in a tight side hug as they started to exit her room and go downstairs, “c’mon, we’ve got some partying to do.”

as soon as the two made it to the bottom of the stairs, they strapped on the roller blades they had found in the garage, and started to skate around the house while karma by taylor swift was blasting through the speakers cam cameron had found.

it was a few hours before y/n had actually found emerson, and when she did, she was drunk. a bottle of vodka in her hand, and a wide smile on her face as soon as she spotted the brunette standing at the kitchen island talking with her older brothers.

“emmy!”the e/c girl exclaimed, causing emerson to have a small smile on her face as she saw y/n skating towards her, “where have you been?”

“right here sweet girl.”emerson chuckled as she wrapped an arm around the girls waist, making sure she didn’t lose balance and fall, “didn’t know you could skate n/n.”

“when i was little i wanted to be a figure skater.”y/n grinned, before letting out a gasp and turning towards conrad who was standing right beside emerson, “do you still have the polaroid camera?”

conrad nodded, before y/n turned towards emerson with the biggest grin on her face, “emmy we’ve gotta take one.”

“and so we do my girl.”emerson nodded, before conrad stepped in front of the two and y/n wrapped her arms around emerson’s neck.

a flash lit up the dark room before the photo printed, and conrad had handed it to his little sister as she waited for it to develop before she went off to somewhere else, presumably to change the music considering it had changed to some type of country song she hated.

“that’s so cute!”the fisher girl exclaimed as soon as it developed, before she turned to emerson, “can you hold this?”

emerson nodded, before gently taking the polaroid she knew the girl would cherish, and y/n grinned, pressing a quick kiss to the brunettes cheek, “thank you!”

and with that she skated off, finding belly and the two skated towards the room where cam cameron was DJing, requesting the song be changed.

hours had passed since emerson had last seen y/n, and she quickly found the girl standing in the ocean, with the bottle of vodka almost gone.

“whatcha doing out here?”emerson questioned as she joined the girl, standing right next to her and y/n took another swig of the vodka.

“too suffocating.”

the girls stood in silence for a few moments before y/n felt a tear slip down her face, and she took another sip from the almost empty bottle in her hands, “my dads selling the house.”

“i know.”

y/n let the bottle slip through her hands and crash into the ocean as she turned to look at emerson with her mouth slightly open, “you what-”

“i’ve known for awhile sunshine.”emerson told the girl softly, and anger spread across the h/c girl’s face.

“you fucking what!”she yelled as she stumbled back, and emerson quickly grabbed the girl before picking her up bridal style, carrying her out of the water.

“emerson scott let me fucking go!”y/n yelled, but emerson didn’t listen until they were a good distance away from the water, gently putting the girl on her feet, “emerson what the fuck!”

“y/n you’re drunk.”emerson told the girl, trying to stay calm knowing that the girl she loved was about to explode.

“you knew and you didn’t tell me?”y/n shouted as she stumbled back a bit, “you saw the for sale sign and didn’t have the common courtesy to call me?”

“you know how much this house means to my brothers, the conklin’s and i, and yet you didn’t call any-!”y/n was cut off by emerson shaking her head, “i called conrad.”

“oh so you can call conrad but you can’t bother to call the girl who you claim to love the most!”y/n threw her hands up in the air as she had tears involuntarily slipping down her face, “i can’t fucking believe you wouldn’t call me about this!”

“y/n when i called conrad to tell him and i bought up the fact that i was going to call you next, he told me not to.”she explained and y/n gave her a look with glossy e/c eyes, causing the brunette to realize that she was too far gone to realize what she was saying.

“fucking forget it!”y/n yelled as she stormed towards the house where some shitty morgan wallen song was playing, and ran up the stairs, tripping on the last one before she was able to make it into her room.

a sob broke from the girls lips as she locked her door, before lying down on her bed and flipping to her contacts to call the only person who could help them. it rang four times before it went to voicemail, causing a sob to rip through the girl knowing that nothing was fine.

“this is laurel parks, please leave a message and i’ll get back to you as soon as i can.”laurel’s voice spoke through the phone, before a beep rang through the phone, and the girl sobbed.

“laurel,”y/n sobbed, gripping the roots of her hair, “we need you.”

“dad’s selling the summer house to someone and won’t even hear conrad, jeremiah and i out on it and–” another loud sob broke through the girl, not feeling heartbreak this bad since her mom had died, “he can’t sell the house! we need to keep this house.”

“and i want my mom back.”y/n continued to cry, letting everything she had been feeling the last two months go, “conrads going to miss his exams and i fought with emerson and everything is wrong!”

“laurel please.”y/n begged as she felt her eyes getting heavier from the crying and the alcohol, “please just come and fix it.”

with that, the voicemail ended, and the girl slowly drifted off to sleep with tears streaming down her face like there was no tomorrow, and her phone slowly slipping out of her hand, onto the bed.

little did the fisher girl know, she had just dialed drunk the only person who would be able to save the summer house.

#conrad fisher imagine #tsitp angst #the summer i turned pretty angst #belly conklin #conrad fisher #conrad fisher x reader #jeremiah fisher x sister!reader #jeremiah fisher angst #jeremiah fisher fluff #conrad fisher angst #tsitp spoilers #jeremiah fisher imagine #jeremiah fisher x reader #conrad fisher x you #we'll all be here forever series

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brigdh · 7 months

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Ed and the mortifying ordeal of being known

Ed does not like revealing his feelings. He is incredibly consistent about lying,

hiding

displacing,

distracting, or just outright denying what he's feeling instead of actually talking about it. This is a consistent pattern of behavior with him. There are a few exceptions – most significantly, I think, the bathtub scene where he confesses to Stede about killing his father – but they are a) rare, and b) occur under unusual circumstances, such as a PTSD flashback. In general Ed goes to great lengths to prevent people from recognizing the truth about him.

I don't really blame Ed for this habit, to be clear. He went through an abusive childhood, and though we don't see a lot of the exact dynamics in baby Ed's house, it's very common for abused children to become hyper vigilant of both their own and others' emotions. It's an attempt to exert some, any control they can over the situation, as though they can prevent setting off the abuser if they just always say and do the right thing.

Ed escaped into piracy, but in terms of talking about his feelings, I don't think it was much of an escape. Piracy in OFMD seems to be a place where the idea of having friends (though not the reality – I'd argue Ed might not use the word 'friend', but has had close relationships) is to be scoffed at. "We're all just in various stages of fucking each other over!" says Calico Jack, and being open about your emotions, plans, hopes, etc would just make it all the easier to be betrayed. On the other hand, lying, obfuscating, or just telling everyone about Plan A and then instead pulling off Plan B makes you look like a double-crossing genius who outthought everyone around you. So I'm not surprised that's Ed's learned to be manipulative and uncommunicative. I don't think he's ever been in a situation where emotional openness wouldn't be a disadvantage.

Regardless of why he does this, it's very clear that it's a pattern of behavior for him. This is one reason why I don't think Sad Robe Ed back in Episode 10 was healing – healing requires addressing and dealing with your feelings, and Ed was very much not doing that. I've already written a whole post going through that episode and laying out how Ed never once mentions Stede, or love, or heartbreak, or anything related to what he's going through, so I'm not going to do it again here. In brief, Ed's putting on a performance of sadness for the crew, but it's a generic, vague sort of sadness, without any connection to his personal, specific pain.

Who finally brings up Stede in Ep 10? It's sure not Ed. Izzy:

Which brings us to Season Two. How is Ed doing now?

He's once again making a performance of his pain, and once again keeping it vague, not letting any of his true, personal hurts be revealed.

These:

Are performances of his pain and sadness, but just like before, they're generic, unspecific. This is "Mad Devil Pyrate Blackbeard", not heartbroken, human Ed. Who is it that brings up the private reality of what's causing this toxic atmosphere? Once again, not Ed. It's Izzy, just like before. And this time he gets shot immediately for saying Stede's name, and Ed doesn't even look at him.

In all three episodes, Ed mentions Stede directly only once, and very pointedly, it's when he's alone:

I'm glad Ed has decided that he wants to live, but that's the beginning of a journey, not the end. What I really want to see in the next couple of episodes is Ed finally, for once, opening up. He doesn't want to be vulnerable, but the lack of emotional intimacy that constantly lying and performing has gotten him is, quite literally, killing him.

Ed can't get over his own, very real pain until he's willing to admit that it exists. I want to see him acknowledge where he hurts. He needs friends. He needs love. He can't get those without being honest.

I hope he does. I hope the show will have him do this work instead of skipping him ahead immediately to the happy ending, no behavioral change required. I think they will. It's kind of their motto, after all: talk it through as a crew.

Now if the co-captains would just follow their own advice...

#I could work on articulating this more but I really want to post it before the new episodes tomorrow #our flag means death #ofmd meta #edward teach #blackbeard #ofmd 2x02 #ofmd 2x03 #ofmd 2x01 #ofmd s2 spoilers #ofmd s2 speculation

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its-chelisey-stuff · 17 days

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everybody's favorite scene was the ending (and I mean, what a cliffhanger!! is it saturday yet???) but my heart stayed here and some of my tears Also, the way he looks at her this whole scene aaaaaaahhhhh I'm melting!

so many what-ifs, so much things left unsaid over the years, misunderstandings piling up, so much resentment! ouch! it just hurts so much but at least they're finally having this conversation and hey, better late than never.

I love their opinions on what has happened, because it highlights their insecurities and biggest regrets. HyunWoo wishes he would have done better in their marriage, knows he's at fault. While HaeIn wishes they never married, so they could've prevented all the pain both of them went through, especially HyunWoo. He doesn't want to hear it, because for him there's only been one woman. And for her, there's only been one man, too. But now she knows how alone and miserable he felt fo so long, he wanted to divorce her.

I have come to appreciate and love Hyunwoo a lot more than I did at the beginning. It was easy for me to hate him right away because of the way he conducted himself and the things he did. But the guy was on autopilot, survival mode and just like he said, he'd forgotten what was important. Dislike, resentment and indifference took over.

!!!!! So obsessed by how this implies he would've been still thinking of her, even if they broke up, always wondering about the what-if. He believes she wouldn't have done the same (and this is clearly her fault lol my queen is not without flaws) but it wouldn't have been like that at all. She was as obsessed, and we know she still believed (or wanted to) in the strenght of her marriage even when it was already crumbling down. *Sighs* They're just so stupid.

I look at this man that we have now on ep 10, and realize just how much he's changed back to the man who married HaeIn, completely in love. The man who chased her, confessed to her and promised to take care of her and her family if it was necessary (oh dear, I never thought that'd be a foreshadowing) and even after divorcing, he stays true to his word.

Aaaaah it's just so sad, and so regretful, but they both were such idiots about it. So childish too, in a way. I get that they were angry and dealing with loss (btw the miscarriage started this, but then little by little misunderstandings started piling up... it was death by a thousand cuts) but they should have fought harder for their marriage. Fight for each other, even while upset. Hate is not the opposite of love, it's indiference.

Despite everything, Hyunwoo took the Hong family to his hometown and gave them shelter, food and a place to sleep. Warmth. The very warmth he didn't get to experience in three years of marriage, living with them. But it doesn't matter, because while I know he is doing this for HaeIn, it's also for them. He sees them as family. And I mean, to be fair, they also gave him a job with a big salary, a big house, expensive getaways with the family and they trusted him with a LOT of legal shit. Not to mention, the italian suits and the Mercedez Benz lol

In times like this, I really really hate her terminal illness and find it so unncessary lol Because they can take back Queens, put EunSeong behind bars and his crazy mother or whatever. They can still fix their relationship. But if her time is indeed running out, it makes all the more tragic all that time they lost. And it would be horrible if at the end, HaeIn dies. So unfair, as well. Because then, what was all this for?

#queen of tears #kdrama #kim soo hyun #kim jiwon

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softpascalito · 8 months

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Agent Ortega x Reader - Agents dont have favorites

Summary: Special Agent Ortega visits the Emerald Palace occasionally. Somehow, the woman tending to the horses is more intersting to him than those tending to the men. When he stays away for a while and things go south for her, he comes back to find something that he doesnt like.

aka its emotional but also they fuck.

Relationships: Agent Ortega x FemReader

WC: 2600

Tags/Warnings: Creator chose not to use Archive Warnings, The Sixth Gun, Agent Ortega x Reader, Implied/Refered Non-Con (Off-Screen, Time-Period typical), Hurt/Comfort, No use of y/n, Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, Creampie, Prostitution, Vaginal Fingering, P in V Sex, yes i wrote p*rn about an unaired pilot ep from 2013 so what

AO3 LINK

Notes: hello loves! what can i say, i saw a new pedro pascal cowboy character and i felt things.

here are said things written down.

_______________________________

Agents don't have favorites. They breeze through Brimstone occasionally, their sole focus on their mission and occasionally getting down in the Emerald Palace after finishing said mission.

They can't afford to get attached, to care too deeply about someone. Especially not girls working in a brothel.

Agent Ortega has a favorite.

It had developed over time, starting when you had tended to the run-down stables behind the palace, feeding and cleaning the horses for their owners. The pay had barely been enough to afford the small room you shared with three other girls.

The Agent had never been charitable but he had taken to finding you during the evening chores and slipping you some money when he'd been in town, always claiming it was to make sure his horse got the best possible care. You had believed it for a while until you had noticed the way he looked at you. Still, he had never made any real advances towards you, unlike other men who simply could not understand that you were paid to take care of the horses and not their own needs.

But even with the occasional support from him, the money had run out and after another offer that promised the pay equal to a week's worth of feeding horses for two hours with a man- you had finally given in, telling yourself that it would only be this once, just to get by until payday.

It hadn't been once.

Instead, you have adapted to a new routine, returning to the bar after your chores and waiting for a man to approach, both dreading and waiting for one of those sleazy hookup lines that always led to the same thing. It has become routine, the way you agree on a price and then lead them upstairs. It has become routine to lock the door. It has become routine to try and scrub yourself clean afterwards. It never works.

Agent Ortega has not been in for the better half of a year. But when he steps into the parlor of the Emerald Palace, the memories immediately come back and he takes in the smell of whiskey, cheap perfume and dried cum. He uses one hand to open his jacket as he looks around, taking in the few familiar faces in the crowd, girls he has seen spread out on the sheets below him and that he has never thought of again.

You can see, from the way he walks, that he's here for pleasure and not business, a slight bounce in his step as he clearly considers his option, pondering if he should start with a whiskey to relax a bit. He's been in the stables already but he couldn't find you and assumed you'd left, remembering distantly how you'd told him on his last visit that you'd been trying to save up, trying to get out of Brimstone for good.

He didn't have the heart to tell you that it wouldn't get better in other towns.

They were all the same.

As he takes a few steps into the establishment, he smiles at the girls around him and winks at one, who instantly tries her luck and approaches him, running her hand over the front of his shirt. You can't hear what she says but it must be some variation of the hookup lines the men use because Ortega smirks for a moment, turning his head a little to the side.

And then he spots you.

The reaction is imminent as his face falls and he shakes the girl off, heading straight towards the corner that you're huddled in. Worry fills him as he gets closer and with every step, it gets worse as he notices your thin, hunched over form, eyes puffy and highlighted by the dark circles under them. The toll the last few months have taken on you is painfully visible, especially compared to the picture he had stored away in the back of his mind, that he had drawn up on lonely nights to keep him company.

He seems to be by your side in an instant, whispering your name as he kneels in front of you, gently reaching out to touch your leg as he gazes up at you. The look in your eyes scares him more than anything.

A sudden suspicion hits him then and you can tell by the way his eyes wander up and down your body, taking in the tight dress you're wearing, that he knows. He knows what has changed.

You try and avoid looking at him, lowering your eyes, too afraid of what you'll find in his gaze. It doesn't make sense, technically. After all, you had to watch him walk up the wooden stairs with a bunch of different girls, trying to ignore the pang of jealousy you felt each time it happened.

“You're not-” He starts softly, his voice gentle and you shake your head quickly:” Please don't. Don't make me say it.” You beg silently, feeling the tears rising in your eyes.

He shifts slightly, leaning a little lower to look at you and his face hardens a bit. He is painfully aware that this is not the place to discuss this.

“How much?” He simply asks and at that you finally look up, slightly shocked at the sudden implication:” What?” Your voice sounds breathless and a small tear rolls down your cheek. He has to try his hardest to not reach out and wipe it away. Not yet, at least.

“How much? For the night?”

You stutter the price, eyes still wide as you look down at him:” But I don't want-”

This time it's he who cuts you off and gently reaches for your hand, tugging until you get up and follow his lead.

As you ascend the stairs, the steps of your routine start taking over. You try to push your emotions away, focusing on everything but. The sounds from the kitchen below, the wooden stairs creaking slightly under the Agent's steps, the way your hand still rests in his.

He steers you into a room gently. By the time the door closes behind you, your brain is in full autopilot. You turn the lock with a swift motion, the sound immediately making your body slump slightly, like it too has memorized what's about to happen.

Your hands are already on his belt when his own hands join them and for a moment you distantly wonder if he is the type who can't wait, who is always too eager- and then, in a gentle motion, he wraps his finger around yours, keeping them safely in his grip as he lowers his arms. When you look up at him, the only thing you can find in his soft, brown eyes is fear. Fear over what had happened while he had been gone. There is a hint of anger too, but you immediately understand that it is not directed towards you.

Agent Ortega looks sad. And it breaks your heart, knowing that you're the sole reason for it.

“You don't have to do that. Not with me.” He says quietly, his voice shaking slightly as he lightly moves his thumb over your fingers, caressing them. His gaze remains on you and after a moment of silence he speaks again:” Life hasn't been treating you well, has it?”

That's all it takes for you to crumble and suddenly, the autopilot is off, the routine you have perfected broken and you all but throw yourself into his arms as the tears spill out of your eyes, small sobs shaking your body and you escape the grip of his hands to wrap your arms around him. He pulls you in.

“I should've been there.” He mumbles silently, burying his nose in your hair as he brings one hand up to stroke it, tangling his fingers between the strands. It takes a while until you manage to catch your breath, using the back of your hand to wipe the last tears off your cheeks:” I should get back.”

Your voice is shaking and it's a whisper- but his reaction is not lessened by it. His brows furrow slightly and he decidedly shakes his head:” Absolutely not. Besides, I told you I'd pay for the night.”

“But you just said we didn't have to- '' You try to protest but he doesn't budge:” I know what I said. I'm paying for the night regardless. In fact, let me pay you for the whole week.”

After a moment, he adds, a little more quietly:” I don't want them touching you again.”

You look at him for a moment, your gaze wandering from his eyes down to his lips and a few seconds later, you're kissing him like your life depends on it. You press your body against his and for the first time in your life, you are trembling out of desire instead of fear.

You both lose yourself in the kiss for a moment and he takes a few steps back without your lips breaking contact until the back of his knees hit the bed and he sits down, pulling you with him so that you're sitting on his lap, your dress riding up slightly as you spread your legs.

After a few more seconds, his lips leave yours and he studies your face as he catches his breath:”Are you sure about this? I'll pay you no matter what.”

You shake your head softly and finally, a small smile appears on your lips:” I'm sure. I- Please, believe me.”

The internal conflict plays out on his face for you to witness. He doesn't want to hurt you, doesn't want to be like those men, doesn't want to take advantage. But something about the way you look at him tells him that you're telling the truth:” Okay.” He mumbles and his hand brushes over your cheek before wandering down your neck and then down your body as he leans forward again, placing little trails of kisses all over your face.

His lips are softer than you expected and you shiver as his mustache tickles at your skin when he places a kiss on your nose and then on each of your eyelids.

A strong hand settles at your back for support as you feel the other one slowly inching up your thigh under your dress, drawing an impatient noise from you as he takes his time. Eventually, the tips of his fingers find the thin cotton panties you're wearing and, in a stark contrast to the slow movements from before, he suddenly speeds up, pulling them towards himself and ripping them off your body.

You gasp slightly, opening your mouth to protest as he chuckles lowly:” I'll buy you new ones, sugar.”

His rough finger finds the soft skin between your legs, running over your folds and circling around them for a few moments before slowly pushing in, parting your wet heat for him. He watches you closely, the way your breath hitches in your throat when he curls his hand just the right way, paying attention to your reactions to make his mental notes.

He adds a second finger, slowly moving them in and out until your breathing is ragged and you lean into him, whimpering as your breasts almost spill out of your dress. The hand that has been supporting your back gently finds the front of your dress and pushes it down until it pools around your middle, revealing your bare breasts to him and he squeezed them slightly while still moving his other hand in and out of you, sucking in a breath at the way you clench around him:” You're perfect, you know that?”

Your own impatient hands soon find his shirt, pulling open the buttons and pushing it open so that his bare chest is exposed. His badge falls to the floor but neither of you can bring yourself to care.

Eagerly, you trace a finger down his belly, following the small trail of hair that leads into his pants until you find his already half open belt. This time, neither of you stop as you fumble until it springs open and you can already see how tight his pants are under your touch.

When you pull it out, his cock is already hard and leaking and you stroke it a few times, marveling at the way the foreskin ripples back and forth with your movements. The dark hair at the base tickles your hand and you bring your other hand down to squeeze his balls slightly, drawing a breathless moan from the Agent's lips.

After a few moments, he pulls his fingers out of you, which has you whining at the loss but then you feel his hands flying to your hips and he lifts you up easily, pushing your dress the rest of the way up before slowly lowering you onto his cock.

You let out a high-pitched whine as you feel him filling you, thick and hard and you silently thank him for preparing you with his fingers.

“It's okay, I got you.” He mumbles, whispering soft praise into your ear until he's all the way inside of you, your bodies flush against each other. You hear him take a breath, clearly forcing himself to hold back and you nudge him softly, silently letting him know that he can move.

He does and the slight discomfort gives way to pleasure as he slowly buries himself in your heat again and again. It feels so different - He feels so different - from all the men you've been with that it makes you want to cry with the revelation.

“You okay?” He mumbles again and you nod, placing your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself as you beg:” Harder, please.”

Agent Ortega silently obeys, changing his angle so that he is hitting your cervix with each thrust and you almost yell at the glorious feeling that starts forming in your stomach as your fingers dig into his skin.

“Come on, darlin. Come for me. Just for me .”

You whimper as your climax hits you seemingly out of nowhere and you can hear him curse under his breath as he quickly tries to pull out of you.

“Please don't-” You whimper silently and he looks at you, face somewhere between pleasure and surprise before he gives in, letting your muscles draw him back inside as you clench down on him, drawing out both your orgasms.

He looks down and moans your name at the sight of his seed spilling out of you and running down the base of his cock, that is slowly starting to soften inside of you.

Later, after he has cleaned you up, you are in his arms, your naked limbs entangled in between the sheets. He is stroking your hair slowly, occasionally leaning down to give in to the sweet promise of another kiss.

“Maybe I should take you with me. Back to Santa Fe.” He mumbles and you sigh softly, pressing your hand against his chest:” And why would you do that?”

He stays quiet. When you realize that there is no response coming, you raise your head a bit, glancing up at his face. His eyes are soft as he looks at you in a way you don't think anyone else ever has.

You answer your own question.

“ You care about me .”

He gives the tiniest of nods, smiling a little as he leans down and kisses your forehead softly.

”Get some sleep. I'll be here in the morning.”

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notes: thank you for reading! feel free to leave me a comment if you want more agent ortega or if you want to give some feedback. love you all <3

#the sixth gun #agent ortega #agent ortega x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #agent ortega x you #agent ortega x female reader #female reader #pedro pascal x y/n #smut #fanfic #pedro pascal fandom #the sixth gun fanfiction #softpascalito

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