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foli-vora · 1 year

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gilded lily

pre/during-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader

a/n: gif by moi. just me over here clowning around and hurting my own feelings lmaoo. we start off soft af, and then it all goes downhill very fast so enjoy the angst-fest! x

word count: 2.6k

warnings: brief mentions of potential pregnancy, graphic violence, blood/gore, violent murder (does it count as murder if they're a zombie? lmao), infected characters, heartbreak, mourning, angst angst angst - don't like, don't read. this does not have a happy ending.

note: this follows the general direction of the outbreak and how it unfolds in the show, it's not identical, but i'll still put a spoiler warning so yeah - consider yourself warned.

It’s a low buzz, a barely there ringing in your ears, settling in the background and never wavering despite your efforts to clean your ears and pop them. It draws your attention for most of the early morning you spend awake before the others, and it’s not until a body suddenly steps in the way of you staring vacantly at your reflection in the bathroom mirror that you even notice other things are going on.

Your eyes come to focus on Joel who stares at you expectantly, his brows raised at your silence.

“Oh, hi—sorry, what did you say?”

“You’re a bit spacy today… you feelin’ okay?” He mumbles around his toothbrush, his body brushing against yours as he leans back on the sink to face you.

A frown starts to pull at your features.

No, you’re not.

Something is definitely not right with the way you’re feeling, but you’re unable to put a proper label as to what. The flu? Food poisoning? All options that don’t seem to fit your particular… oddness.

“I don’t… I don’t know.”

Your obvious struggle catches Joel’s attention and he’s quick to spit the frothy toothpaste from his mouth, washing it down the sink drain with a quick splash of water before turning his full attention on you.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

“I don’t—” you pause, staring deep into his dark eyes before letting your frown disappear and forcing a little smile, “—it’s nothing. I’m fine. Really, baby, it’s nothing.”

You aren’t going to do anything that could potentially disturb his birthday—you’d been looking forward to it for weeks. An assortment of wrapped presents hide away in the bottom of the dresser, and you know Sarah’s been buzzing to give him his watch you both had taken to get fixed a week prior.

His mouth opens, no doubt to give you a sharp word about closing him out, but Sarah soon appears in the doorway with a warm good morning and the subject is left at that. You tread after her down the stairs, leaving Joel to scowl lightly at your back as he follows along behind.

Tommy appears just as you’re serving up breakfast, his full plate already waiting in your hand. His grin widens as he gives you a sweet kiss hello on your cheek before snatching the plate with an amused, “Am I that obvious?”

“You don’t want me to answer that,” you reply cheekily, your wide smile faltering when you struggle to open the bottle of pain relief.

“You okay?” He asks around a mouthful of eggs, eyeing the pills you pop into your mouth and swallow down with a mouthful of orange juice.

“Yeah, just not feeling the best today.”

“Are you pregnant?” He asks blankly, picking at the food on his plate as his eyes dart to your stomach.

His question immediately perks Joel’s interest, his hand holding the coffee pot hanging suspended over his mug as he shoots you a look from the corner of his eyes. His thoughts are plain as day—shit… are you?

Sarah perks at the table, the excitement already creeping into her features and you’re quick to cut in before she could get too ahead of herself.

“No,” you chuckle, poking Tommy’s side, “but thank you for the early morning freak out.”

Joel makes a little noise of thought, his rasp coming from around the mug he presses to his lips, “Would it be so bad if you were?”

“I don’t know,” you murmur softly, unable to keep a smile tugging at your cheeks, “would it?”

He shrugs, the barely there trace of a smirk playing along his lips as he nurses his coffee, “I wouldn’t have a problem with it.”

Tommy pipes up with a comment, his voice thick and far away, morphing in your ears until a shrill sound fills your mind, piercing your senses.

That goddamn ringing.

A wince pinches your features and you rub at your temples, willing the ache slowly building there to dissipate. A numb tingle grows over your fingertips, merely intensifying when you rub them together to will some feeling back into the pads.

“Honey?”

Snapping out of a sudden trance like state, you blink wildly as your eyes refocus on Joel and how he’s suddenly in front of you.

Heavy frown deepening, his hands come to cup your cheeks, tilting your head up and side to side. He studies your eyes, noting the strangely vacant look swirling in them and how you seem to struggle finding words.

Sarah shares his concern, stepping up next to him and curling a warm hand around yours.

“Dad, maybe you should take her to the hospital—”

“Yeah… yeah, I think I will. Baby, could you go get her jacket—”

“Don’t be silly,” you breathe, shaking your head and fighting the fog creeping along the corners of your mind. “I’m not sitting in the ER on your birthday, and besides you guys have a lot of work to do today. It’s probably a migraine, or something—I’ll just sleep it off.”

Tommy doesn’t seem all that convinced, his frown mirroring his brothers as he looks at you from over Joel’s shoulder.

“Are you sure? Coz you don’t look too good—work can always wait.”

“I’ll be fine,” you grin, delivering a firm smack to Joel’s ass, “you’re gonna be late—off you go, birthday boy. The sooner you go, the sooner you can come back and get your birthday presents.”

Joel’s jaw tightens, “You call me if anything changes, y’hear?”

Nothing changes, but nothing gets better.

You call into work after dropping Sarah off at school, explaining your sudden illness and confusion quickly forming when they say you’re not the first—a few of your co-workers had called in also. Something’s going around, they say.

There are reports everywhere.

The day passes quickly with you sleeping on the couch, hoping that whatever is plaguing you will pass by the time Joel gets home from his double. You wake to find Sarah hovering over you with a glass of water and a smile that barely hides her worry.

“How are you feeling?” She asks quietly, helping you sit up and tucking herself into the couch next to you.

“Better,” you lie, the smile on your lips forced.

If she doesn’t believe you, she doesn’t make it known.

You spend the evening cuddled with her on the couch, barely focusing on the shows that come and go. Time blurs together, the hours melding and dragging.

Somewhere inside of you, you feel something’s wrong. Badly wrong. Something’s not right. You start to twitch, random muscles in your body jumping at the most random of times.

At one point, Sarah pulls away from where she cuddles into your side, her obvious worry deepening with your increasingly erratic movements.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just—I must’ve trapped a nerve, or something,” you murmur through numb lips, watching the way your fingers and hand twitch almost as if through a skewed, blurry lens before giving the limb a little shake and smiling. “I’m fine.”

You’re not fine. You can feel it everywhere. Something’s happening. Where the fuck is Joel?

—

Everything is fucked.

People are being attacked everywhere, people are dying everywhere. Just getting slaughtered, right in the middle of the fucking street.

It’s mayhem.

It’s terrifying and he doesn’t have a chance to truly process the emotion. It makes no sense, no damn sense, but he doesn’t bother to stop and think about it. He can’t. He needs to move, you all need to move and get the fuck out of town.

Joel bursts through the front door, echoes of jets and explosions and sirens sounding in the distance behind him, his face set in rigid determination. He should never have worked so fucking late.

“Girls, come on—” he roars, hoping the boom of his voice startles you both from sleep, “—in the truck, now!”

Sarah’s asleep and sprawled over the couch when he passes by the lounge, and he immediately goes for her, curling his fingers tightly around her shoulder and giving her a firm shake.

“Baby? Baby, wake up—”

Sarah blinks languidly, her face pinched and disorientated, but the sleep hanging in her eyes evaporates when a sudden explosion rattles the house. Her hands fly to clutch his arms, eyes now wide and filled with terror, darting to the window.

“What’s going on?!”

“Come on, we gotta go, baby, get up.”

She follows immediately, her hand not leaving his as he drags her outside. Tommy stands guard by the running truck, desperately trying to pull his lips into some sort of encouraging smile, but it comes across more as a grimace.

“What’s happening?” Sarah asks again, pausing when a familiar sound catches her attention. “Mercy? Mercy, here boy!”

Joel’s jaw tenses, his hands becoming increasingly more urgent as they shove her towards the vehicle, ignoring the frightened dog that bounds over to answer her familiar call.

“Sarah, get in the fuckin’ truck—”

“What about Mercy? We can’t just leave him outside, and what about—”

Tommy holds a calming hand out, his grip tightening on his rifle, “Joel’ll get her, and I’ll take him back, just get in—”

“You keep her in the truck!” Joel yells at his brother, turning away from them and running back towards the house, slamming his way through the front door, roaring your name again and again. He takes the stairs two at a time, marching straight for the bedroom only to discover you aren’t there.

Where the hell are you?

“Come on, honey, we gotta move—!”

A thud.

He spins for the bathroom, noticing the slither of light from under the door and immediately advancing towards it, hand reaching for the handle.

Locked.

He rattles it, hoping the weak thing would cave like it’s done so many times before. He knocks harshly when it holds firm, calling out your name, but a weight hitting the door sends panic through his system.

A weakened groan sounds through the timber and he shakes the handle again, his face creasing with worry. He doesn’t have a lot of time, none of you have a lot of time. He forces his shoulder up against the door and it soon gives way, shoving something heavy out of the way and slamming against the tiles.

“Honey, come—”

He stops, eyes finally taking in the form in front of him.

It’s you, but it’s not.

Ice creeps along his shoulders, hardening around his heart and sinking to the pit of his stomach. There’s something wild about your expression, an almost animalistic curl to your features. Your eyes have lost their usual warmth, their sparkle, now they’re feral, and locked right onto him.

God no, not you.

“Honey, baby,” he utters, stepping back and desperately willing, praying, for the unfolding situation to change in front of his eyes, “it’s me—I can’t… god, don’t make me do this. Please wake up. Show me you’re there, do somethin’—“

A guttural cry that barely sounds human tears its way out of your mouth and you lunge for him, hands poised ready to grab onto him. He evades your attack and dives into Sarah’s room, swiping one of her participation trophies from her drawers and barely able to turn before a weight hits his side and takes him down to the floor.

He curls a hand tightly around your throat, keeping your rabid, snarling face away from his and strikes. The marble base of the award meets your skull with a sickening crunch, but he doesn’t stop, his arm soon aching from the brutal force he puts behind each hit and causing blood to rain down over his face. He doesn’t stop until he feels the strength behind your hands vanish.

The sticky red substance coats the trophy and he lets out a sob as your body falls to the floor in an unmoving heap beside him. He throws the makeshift weapon away from him as his chest heaves, the heavy thud of it hitting the floor suddenly so loud in the now still house, and rolls onto his side, taking in your still form before carefully crawling closer.

He reaches out, placing a trembling hand against the part of your bloodied face he could see through the destruction, sick at how cold you feel and the way your thick blood coats his skin. His thumb brushes over your cheek, tracing the swollen veins lying beneath and he chokes on a cry.

“I’m so—fuck, honey, I-I’m so sorry—”

Remorse rolls through him in waves until it fills every vein, runs along every nerve. He should’ve been here. He should’ve done something. Was there even anything he could have done? Could he have saved you from any pain? Were you alone and scared? What were your last thoughts? Did you know what was happening? Is that why you were locked away?

“Joel?!” Tommy shouts from somewhere in the house, and it’s enough to tear him away from your body and the grief overwhelming him.

“Don’t let her up here!” He yells back, listening to Tommy quickly stop Sarah from climbing the stairs.

She couldn’t see this. She couldn’t remember you like this, mangled and bleeding out on her bedroom floor where you both had spent so much time reading over magazines, painting each other's nails and giggling over shitty TV shows. He wouldn’t let those memories be stained with the blood of the mother she had found so much comfort in, tainted by the monster that had become of her.

He takes one final look at you, smoothing a hand along your hairline and avoiding the caved in shattered bone only a few centimetres from his touch. Nausea rolls through him, hot acid bile rising in the back of his throat as he backs away from your body and stands on unsteady legs.

His hand flies out to rest against the wall as he stumbles back, eyes not leaving your twisted features and broken body. Eventually you fade from view once he rounds the corner and he turns for the stairs, his heart thundering in his chest.

Sarah sees him first, Tommy busy eyeing the windows and keeping his weapon at the ready.

“Is she sick?” She asks, noticing the obvious emptiness behind him.

Joel feels his shoulders deflate, stepping down the final steps and giving a solemn nod, “Yeah. Yeah, she was.”

The use of past tense brings a thick wave of emotion over his daughter's face, and his broken heart shatters even more. He tries to wipe the blood, your blood, from his hands, dragging them down the legs of his jeans and it catches her attention, her face creasing with anguish.

“You killed her,” she mumbles, tears filling her lash line as her eyes dart across his face.

He swallows the thick pressure in his throat, ignoring the look of sympathy his brother gives him and steps up to his daughter, holding back his own tears as hers spill over her cheeks.

“I did,” he returns quietly, “I did. I’m so sorry, baby—”

She softens when he reaches for her, his arms tightening around her and squeezing. Her lower lips wobbles with the effort of keeping her emotions at bay, her fingers tightening around his shirt as he curls around her. She shakes in his hold.

“The Adler’s were sick, too,” she whimpers into his shoulder, “are we sick?”

“No baby. No, we’re not sick,” Joel pulls away, cupping her cheek with a sticky hand and keeping his gaze steady with hers, “but we’ve gotta be brave, okay? We’re gonna be fine, but we’ve got to go.”

“We shouldn’t leave her behind—” she whimpers quietly, another stream of tears falling down her cheeks.

“We have to, baby girl. We have to, I... I’m not gonna lose you, too.”

everything pp: @maievdenoir, @javier-pena, @lv7867, @dihra-vesa, @katronautt, @radiowallet, @januarystears, @missminkylove, @beskarprincessjenny, @mswarriorbabe80, @danidrabbles, @sergeantbannerbarnes, @amneris21, @eri16, @absurdthirst, @hnt-escape, @acourtofsnakes, @ezrasbirdie, @mstgsmy, @lovesbiggerthanpride, @coaaster, @sherala007, @kelseyxyeslek, @greeneyedblondie44, @wyn-n-tonic, @you-got-me-starry-eyed, @shirks-all-responsibilities, @withasideofmeg, @harriedandharassed, @andruxx, @buckybarneshairpullingkink, @spideysimpossiblegirl, @prostitute-robot-from-the-future, @tanzthompson, @mad-girl-without-a-box, @hope-for-the-best-98, @fangirl-316, @christina-loves, @jediknight122, @hallway5, @xoxabs88xox, @nicolethered, @churchill356, @massivecolorspygiant, @just-here-for-the-moment, @gracie7209, @pinkie289, @lavenderluna10, @goodgriefitsawildworld, @juletheghoul, @punkerthanpascal, @itswanktime, @karolydulin, @pedrostories, @fabilei, @ghostwiththemostbitch, @omlwhatamidoinghere, @cannedsoupsucks, @chaoticemz, @hows-my-hair, @alexxavicry, @cran-berry-vodka, @deadhumourist, @outercrasis, @thisshipwillsail316, @toxicfrankenstein, @hotchlover, @ew-erin, @mishasminion360, @jitterbugs927, @penelopeimp, @woodland-mist, @pedro-pastel, @spaceserialkiller, @adriiibell, @1andthesame, @elegantduckturtle, @captain-jebi, @magpie-to-the-morning, @sharkbait77, @sleep-tight1, @musings-of-a-rose, @Karlawithacapitalk, @woomen23, @frasmotic, @songsformonkeys, @loonymagizoologist, @aynsleywalker, @ruhro7, @bluestuesday, @what-iwish-you-knew, @princess-djarinn, @totallynotastanacc, @girlofchaos, @pjkimrn, @bangaveragewhitewine, @trickstersp8, @rominaszh, @gooddaykate, @ms-loverman-066, @bunniwarrior, @detectivecarisi-1, @tintinn16, @iceclaw101, @bport76, @thatpinkshirt, @tusk89, @withakindheartx, @curiouskeyboard, @pedropascalsx, @sirpascal, @racetrackheart, @patisseriel, @timpletance, @titabel, @xdaddysprincessxx, @dnxgma, @astronomeoww, @dindjarinswhore, @alwaysdjarin, @mando-amando, @mx-ferelden, @trinkets01, @jxvipike, @thesmutslut, @thereisaplaceintheheart, @scentedthingtidalwave, @mwltwo, @loveslide, @artsymaddie, @untitledarea, @sukunababe, @emiemiemiii, @your-slutty-gf, @wisecolornight, @emilianamason

joel miller: @jujuliaispunk

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller imagine #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader

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1d1195 · 2 months

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My Friend's Toyota IV

Read the rest here: My Friend's Toyota

~6.2k words

Warnings: fluff, some angst, some 18+ escapades mentioned/described but nothing over the top, virgin reader/experienced H (semi-spoiler: you will not be reading about their first time in this one) I'm sure we all know I do 3rd POV typically, but I think this will also feel like it's rapidly switching between our characters within that lens, so just keep that in mind. Also I think this part is really... complex if you will. Think coming of age, trying to figure out life kind of stuff. It's not easy and I wrote it randomly in a way, because I don't think you can wrap all this stuff up in a neat little bow the way you expect to. There are curveballs in life and especially in sex. There are difficult conversations to be had and things that are hard to explain; this is just the way I chose to portray such a relationship. I kind of left this open-ended in a way that I could come back to it for follow-ups. I hope that doesn't detract from the story.

Sorry for the long note; here is the last part. Thank you for reading it. I hope you enjoy 💕

Harry wondered if he kissed her would his lips stick to hers.

He kind of hoped they would.

She’s not ready for the air to get colder / ‘Cause she’s so used to living on the beach down in Florida / Wanna take her to the mountains / We can take my friend’s Toyota / But the heat don’t work so when the air gets colder / I can hold ya

Harry was going to kill Mitch. When they stopped for gas, he texted him while she ran in to the station to grab some extra snacks. How come the heat isn’t working?

Whoops. I forgot about that...

Mitchell. She is FREEZING.

Sarah says it’s an excuse to snuggle.

Honestly, Harry had already thought of that. But he wanted her to be whole and warm when they made it to the cabin. It made him so anxious that he was ruining their weekend getaway before it barely started. But she returned chipper as ever, four cups of hot liquid in a little cardboard tray. He smirked, raising his eyebrows suspiciously at the copious number of drinks.

She smiled shyly. “It’ll be warm,” she shrugged.

He chuckled as she settled the drinks in the middle of the bench seat and made sure they wouldn’t spill while Harry drove. It was only another hour to the cabin. It was freezing. Truly, freezing didn’t even justify the cold temperature she was feeling. It felt like there was ice in the bottom of her shoes—she contemplated spilling one of the cups of hot chocolate she purchased into her boots just for warmth. “M’so sorry about the heat, kitten. I didn’t know.”

Despite her jaw silently chattering (she hid the sound of it from Harry by pulling her lower lip into her mouth ever so slightly) she smiled at him. “I’m fine,” she promised. Really, she was. It wasn’t like she was going to get hypothermia or anything, it was just cold. The hot liquid helped though, the cup warmed her gloved hands and melted her insides as she drank it. Harry also provided her with two warm, fuzzy blankets to snuggle under during the ride. It wasn’t too late—but winter up North anything past four PM was late. The sky was nearly black, only stars and stray wispy clouds. It didn’t help the chill in the cab of the truck. She packed an overnight bag of her regular belongings with clothes and toiletries, her backpack (because it was really hard for her to part from her schoolwork when school was in session), and plenty of jackets and sweatshirts. Harry packed about the same and all their bags were piled into the thin backseat of the cab of the truck as well. In the bed of the truck was an assortment of drinks and food items they might need as general basics when they got to the cabin. They would still need to go to the grocery store.

The prospect of playing house with her was very exciting.

Harry thought she was the cutest little ad for ski gear with a little knit headband around her ears and matching mittens. She was so pretty it made him feel dizzy. “Do you want some?” She asked, grabbing a second cup from the tray. He smiled, taking it with one hand and sipping it. He popped out the cupholder that resided within the dash and slid it in.

His mum always warned him that driving at dusk and dawn were the two hardest times to drive. Between the animals and other drivers struggling to see in the fading or growing light he wasn’t surprised.

Add in snow coming off the mountain? It was another added distraction.

But she had never seen snow. “Oh my God,” she whispered.

He smiled silently at her awed expression, keeping his eyes on the road, the wiper blades pushing the fluffy squall of flakes off the glass. She shifted in her seat edging closer to the dashboard, the seatbelt stretching to accommodate her closeness. “Is it always sparkly like that?” Her voice was reverent. Soft and warm despite how icy she must have felt. Harry was focused on not skidding on what could be an icy cold road. Maybe he should have waited until the morning to start driving but he wanted to milk every possible second of the weekend with her without interruption from anyone. A two-night, and two-and-a-half-day stay was hardly enough so he wasn’t going to lose that half a day for nothing.

“I’ve never noticed it sparkling,” he admitted. She used her teeth to pull her glove off before she reached for the windshield. With one finger on it, the heat from her finger creating a little halo of steam on the glass, her eyes scanned the fluttering snow as it fell in front of the headlights.

“It’s like glitter,” she murmured. “It’s so pretty; I don’t think I’ve ever seen something this pretty…can we stop?”

It was fortunate they were coming to a rest stop—Harry had only been to Mitch’s cabin a few times but when they travelled in from their hometown, it was a much longer journey, and the rest stop was always needed. Pulling off the highway, she got out of the car quickly. Harry followed suit, locking the vehicle and fell into step beside her. She was so bright-eyed. The chill in the air didn’t seem to bother her, although Harry was sure it had to because it almost bothered him.

There was a thin layer of snow coating the ground. If he had a measuring tape, it wouldn’t even read a millimeter. She stood still gazing upward, the fluffy flakes caught on her little headband, in her hair. They melted as they hit her face, making her cheeks spotted with a little drop of moisture.

But what had him falling further in love with her was the way they fell on her eyelashes and clung to them for a moment before turning into water again. Her cheeks pinked in the chilly air and Harry wondered if he kissed her would his lips stick to hers.

He kind of hoped they would.

Without warning, she hurried to the picnic table that was also covered in snow and laid across it, stretching her arms out and sighing deeply. “I know I’m always cold, but I do love it. It’s so much better than the heat,” she looked so gorgeous, Harry could hardly breathe. She turned her head and smiled at him. “You think I’m crazy,” she giggled.

He nodded. “I do,” he sounded so serious, but his smile was so enticing it made her stomach hurt.

“You know, this is where you would murder me,” she told him.

He snorted and shook his head at her. “Oh?”

“Yup. You kill me here, abandoned rest stop, closed for the season. No one finds me till spring. You have your nice long weekend alone.”

He rolled his eyes. “You think Allie wouldn’t hunt me down?”

“You stole my phone tell her I couldn’t be here anymore, too cold. Move back south.”

“Your parents?”

“They haven’t a clue,” she shrugged.

“No more podcasts, kitten.”

She turned her attention back to the sky, the falling flakes making her look like a literal snow angel, speckling her hair. “It’s beautiful,” her voice was so soft. Harry smiled and moved to lay beside her. She shifted, allowing space on the creaky table. He let one leg dangle off the side, propped up by the bench seat. He tried to see it the way she saw it. It had been so long since he had stopped and watched the snow fall. He knew it was beautiful. There were reasons people visited the mountains to ski and have romantic, chilly getaways. But he could hardly tear his eyes away from her to look at the beauty she saw that wasn’t her own reflection. “Do you even like snow?” She asked.

He nodded. “When I was younger,” he started. “I was the only boy,” he smiled fondly. “Mum and Gemma were adamant that I do what was proper and right. But it was more than that. I wanted t’be a gentleman t’them, y’know?” She didn’t obviously, not exactly, but she nodded. “I actually liked shoveling. Our neighbors paid me t’shovel their drives as well,” he explained. “It was so quiet. Y’can’t really tell right now,” he gestured toward the highway that had cars singing down the road to their destinations. “Snow absorbs the sound of everything else, traps it in the flakes and carries it t’the ground like s’tucking a kid into bed,” he shook his head with a smile. “S’the only way I can describe it. Felt like when Mum would carry me t’bed when I was sick,” he paused. “You must think I’m crazy,” he smiled.

She shook her head eagerly. “No,” she promised. “I mean, it’s a weird way to say no one will hear me scream when you murder me,” she shrugged and Harry laughed, rolling his eyes again. Seriousness came over her features again and she turned on her side to face him. “Tell me more,” she whispered. “It’s quiet,” she reminded him, encouraging him to continue his story. “You liked shoveling?”

He kissed the middle of her forehead and took a deep breath inhaling her perfume and the smell of her laundry detergent that mixed together to create this amazing scent that was entirely her. “My mum and Gemma did so much for me,” he explained. “I’d do anything for them. So...I like the snow a lot. S’peaceful.”

She looked back up and watched the flakes fall and land on Harry’s skin without any pattern. It made his skin dewey and somehow more beautiful. She brushed her glove thumb on his eyebrow, brushing the flakes that landed there before they froze. “It is peaceful.”

“We should go before we freeze.”

“Eager to kill me in private, I see.”

“There’s something wrong with you.”

“You picked me,” she giggled getting off the table and right as she stepped away, Harry grabbed her hand, pulled her back so she was between his legs, arms pressed to the front of his body and his arms circled around her waist.

“I’d pick you, again and again,” he promised before kissing her sweetly on the lips. Fortunately (or unfortunately, for Harry), their lips didn’t stick together.

Harry forgot how much warmth was produced to melt any hope of staying stuck to her.

“Can I do something?” She asked about ten minutes longer into the drive.

“Of course,” he chuckled.

She unbuckled herself, scooted to the middle seat, replacing her old spot with the warm drinks ensuring once more they wouldn’t spill while driving. She leaned toward him, her body snug against his side. His hand fell to her thigh wrapped in at least two layers and he still thought she wouldn’t have looked sexier in lingerie. Carefully, she draped her blankets across Harry’s lap as well. “This is much better,” she sighed.

Harry couldn’t have agreed more. He squeezed her thigh and kissed the top of her head without moving his gaze from the road. “Warm?” He asked.

She nodded. “Very.”

His heart was in his throat because the snow was getting a little heavier as he creeped further north to the little mountain town. Her sweet voice was going on and on about how pretty the snow was, what she was looking forward to this weekend, and how not even their upcoming finals had her in a bad mood.

It took every ounce of self-control to focus on the road and not her. When she started pointing at how fluffy the flakes were once more Harry cleared his throat. “Kitten,” his voice was soft. She could hear the warning tone. A frown graced her lips in his peripheral.

“Yeah?”

“I love your voice,” he began.

Looking away briefly she turned and nuzzled her face against his jacketed arm. “I’m talking too much, aren’t I?” She asked quietly.

“God, no,” he shook his head, it seemed horrible to face forward and not look at her while he reassured her. “I’d listen t’you for hours jus’ t’hear y’read the ingredients in m’shampoo,” he promised. “But you are the most precious cargo I’ve ever driven—”

Immediately, she turned her face toward his arm, still pressed to his side. Like she was embarrassed over the notion. “That’s the sweetest—”

“—and I want t’stare at you, and talk t’you about the snow, finals, everything, love. But I want t’get you to the cabin safely. Your sweet voice is so distracting. S’not your fault at all. S’mine. I jus’ want t’look at you.”

“I’ll be quieter,” she promised, but there was a smile in her voice as she murmured quietly into his arm again.

“You’re not mad, no?”

She shook her head. “Not at all. I’ve never driven in the snow. Forgot it might be scary. Even for a veteran driver like you,” she nosed at his arm again. She let all the air escape her in a long sigh. “I’ll let you focus,” her voice wasn’t as exuberant, but Harry glanced at her briefly to see a content smile on her face. Her eyes facing forward as she admired the snowy road. Relief coursed through him that she didn’t hate him for basically telling her to shut up. Quietly she hummed to the music playing through the speakers.

Harry was a believer in some kind of heaven beyond.

But driving along a cold snowy road, with the girl of his dreams on his arm, he stopped believing.

There was no way heaven could exist if she was right beside him.

The cabin was the stuff of dreams. It was secluded, but honestly not in the serial killer way she kept mocking Harry about. From the little perch of land, she could see down to the town nearby. Not quite rural but not urban either. It was perfect. They stopped at the grocery store on the way in and she caught sight of an old bookstore and a little boutique that she wanted to go to tomorrow.

“I honestly hadn’t considered killing you till now, kitten,” Harry was grumbling as they carried the groceries in first, then their other bags. When Harry glanced away very briefly to check nothing was left in their cart, she paid for the groceries with a tap of her debit card.

“I knew it,” she whispered to mostly herself with a smile.

“Supposed t’be treating you,” he continued grumbling.

“Harry, you treat me literally all the time. You worked so many extra shifts this week to make up for missing the weekend ones. Just let me,” she assured him putting the perishables in the fridge and freezer. He still felt guilty, and she could see his mind spinning with ways to make up for the “atrocity.”

“D’you want anything t’eat or drink?” He asked.

“How about the pizza?” She suggested. It was quick and easy and didn’t require a lot of thought to make. It would be easy for their first night here. “I got it,” she offered, and Harry went to set up the fireplace. While he worked on the fire, she meandered around the cabin. It was warm and cozy but also extremely open. Pictures of Mitch and Harry were strewn about table surfaces. Vacations from their school days. Other pictures of whom she assumed was the rest of Mitch’s family. Sarah was even in a few, too. The décor was perfect for a cabin. Like it had been crocheted a giant sweater to sit on the walls with a variety of little inspirational ski quotes like “skiing is the next best thing to having wings.” It was toasty without the fireplace going just because it was everything a mountain cabin should be.

The beautiful stone fireplace cracked now that Harry had fed it enough firewood. It was along the back wall set between windows that let the sunlight in each morning (she wasn’t positive on that, but assumed it was built so the bedrooms wouldn’t be in direct sunlight while waking up), and the coziest looking couches she had seen. They fit the room perfectly. All they needed was a sweet, chocolate labrador to play fetch with and this could be home.

She pulled the knit headband off her head, finally warming from the heat and the fireplace. Harry brought her a glass of wine. It felt like they were real adults on a trip. Harry almost immediately stripped of his outdoor gear when they arrived, but it took a while for her southern blood to warm. Eventually she slid her coat off. Harry hung it on the back of a chair while he found plates in the cabinet and finished with the remainder of the groceries: things for the bathroom that weren’t regularly stored in the little getaway. She was inspecting the bookshelf reading the back of covers that were old and well-loved. “Anything good?”

She smiled. “I think all books are good.”

He chuckled, grabbed their overnight bags by the front door and went off to another room. Her heart pounded with the realization they were on a trip together and it wasn’t just Harry’s suite like she had gotten used to over the last month and a half.

All week she had been nervous. Allie could tell it reached a breaking point on Thursday when she was packing. Harry was at work, unaware of her troubles. She knew she was being ridiculous. Harry had been nothing but kind since she met him. But when he brought their bags to the other room, all the anxiety she had squashed down came flooding back to her.

“Are you excited?” Allie’s voice was gentle when she asked while she finished zipping her bag. All she needed were the toiletries that she would pack once she used them in the morning.

“Yes,” she murmured.

“Oh, that’s assuring,” Allie hopped onto her bed and patted the seat beside her as if it were her room. “C’mon, sweetie,” she encouraged with a sweet smile. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

She shook her head, cheeks flaming, unable to put it into words because she felt so embarrassed. Even in front of someone who was very much her best friend. “It’s nothing.”

“I’ll tickle it out of you,” she warned.

“Oh my God,” she sat beside her and looked at her hands in her lap. It was extremely quiet in her room. “I’ve never had sex,” she mumbled.

“What?!” She gasped.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” she groaned. “I knew it was weird,” she covered her face with her hands.

“No, shit,” Allie put a comforting hand on her arm. “No, it’s not weird. It’s not anything,” she said reassuringly.

“Allie, Harry has definitely had sex, yes?” Allie was silent. “Right,” tears welled in her eyes. “It’s just this element of our relationship that’s so...” she shook her head. “Unequal.”

“Sweetie, Harry is not going to care about that at all.”

“I know, but I do,” she admitted, her voice cracking. “I feel so...lame. So immature. How is that possible?”

“I really don’t know because you are way more mature than I am, and it’s got nothing to do with sex.”

She ignored that comment because she knew it was supposed to help but everything felt awful. Her body was overheating with shame and awkwardness she had never felt before. “What if I’m bad at it?”

Allie snorted and patted her arm again. “Impossible.”

“Allie...” she whined, tears still filling her vision. “I...” she swallowed, took a deep breath. “I think I love him. If I’m not good at it... then... I’m just a waste of his time—”

Allie shook her head immediately. “Stop, stop, stop,” she hushed. “You are not a waste of time. If you and Harry stopped seeing each other tomorrow, I would expect him to write you a thank you note for being with him for the past few months.”

“You think I’m an idiot. A prude.”

“No, of course not! I’m surprised. You’re hot as fuck, babe,” she rolled her eyes. “You didn’t have anyone you wanted to...?” she trailed off with the question lending itself to the silence.

“No,” she shook her head. “You have to understand, my parents are so in love with each other. Sometimes it’s nauseating. It’s not like I didn’t want to just get it out of the way. I wish I did. I wish I just... God, it’s so lame sounding. I just think it’s supposed to be special. It’s an important part of a relationship, but I didn’t want it to be the only thing,” her voice cracked more times than she could count. The words came out in a sad whisper. But she left the story about studying for physics in her junior year that she had told Harry unsaid. Allie nodded understandingly.

“That’s not lame, sweetie,” she promised. “There’s no right or wrong to it. It just is.”

“I literally Googled how not to be bad in bed.”

Allie laughed despite herself. “Of course you would do research.”

“Al,” she whined again.

“I’m not trying to pry, sweetie... have you... done anything precursory with Harry?” She asked.

Her face warmed and she nodded. It wasn’t every night they slept together or anything, but Harry’s fingers and tongue were no stranger to her body. Her mouth honestly ached to have him in her just as much as her body seemed to ache recently for more than what they were currently doing.

Allie sighed. “Look, I said it before, I’ll say it again. If Harry tries anything shady with you, I will cut his dick off, no questions asked. Honestly, he would probably appreciate the gesture on your behalf,” she shrugged. When she didn’t hear a flicker of laughter she continued, gentler than the previous sentence. “Sweetie, I know you love him,” it was a little weird to hear her best friend say it without the word think or feel in it the way she had said it, thought it, and voiced it out loud. “But God, if he doesn’t love you too,” she promised. “It doesn’t have to happen. I know I was a little wary of him at first, but I can tell that Harry would do anything to make you happy,” she promised. “You probably wouldn’t need to have sex with him ever if you didn’t want to.”

“I think I want to.”

“Okay, well,” Allie turned, waiting for her to look at her. Gather all the attention with focused eye contact with the utmost seriousness she had ever seen on her free-spirited friend’s face. “Until that’s an ‘I know’ you’re not to do anything you don’t want to. Do you understand? I have a mind to tell Harry myself because you’re too kind to say it.”

“Oh, that’s a great idea Allie,” she grumbled sarcastically. “Tell my boyfriend I’m too scared to go away with him because I think I’ll be bad at sex?”

Allie didn’t even flinch and the preposterousness of it all. “I literally do not care,” she shrugged.

A beat of silence ensued. “I won’t,” she mumbled. It wasn’t like Allie was wrong in her line of thinking. It did sound like something she would do to appease Harry. “I won’t,” she repeated more for herself than for Allie.

When Harry returned from putting their bags away, she was still pretending to read the back of book covers while she reminisced about the conversation she had with Allie. “I think this is where Mitch’s mum puts all the books they no longer read, kind of thing,” he explained, entering the room, and pulling her from her thoughts.

She hoped her smile wasn’t awkward or uncomfortable looking. “Yeah, some old ones here,” she affirmed and brought one of the books and her glass of wine to the sofa, she settled both on the coffee table and looked at the fire again. “This is perfect, Harry,” she smiled. Her heart felt whole, despite all the anxiety she also felt. He sighed nearly with relief.

“Good,” he fell beside her and pressed a hand to the side of her face. “M’glad,” he kissed her forehead effectively turning her insides to liquid. “Pizza’s almost ready. Did y’want t’study for a bit before we... watch a movie or something?”

Her heart felt so much gratitude for him. “Really? On a Friday night? A weekend getaway?” She wondered.

“I mean... if y’don’t want to, then of course not. But I know y’well enough t’know y’kind of want to. Because y’don’t want t’fall behind—which I do think is impossible... but I know it’ll make y’feel better t’turn your brain off tomorrow and Sunday,” he shrugged with a smile that was so easy and lovely she really believed Sarah for a moment that he wouldn’t have sex if she asked.

But there was no way she was going to ruin a romantic weekend away. “I have Monday,” she said firmly.

“Are y’sure? I really don’t mind. M’behind myself, a bit because of the extra shifts,” he explained.

Her guilt flew out of her system. “Oh, okay, if you’re sure.”

He shook his head with a smirk. “Kitten,” he cooed. “M’not gonna be upset if y’want t’study...if it’ll help y’relax and—”

“I just really don’t want you to think I’m lame,” she hurried looking away as she interrupted him.

He frowned. “M’not being a very good boyfriend if y’think m’gonna say you’re lame for wanting t’do well and get good grades,” he tugged her backpack over the back of the couch and settled it in front of her. “I don’t know why y’think m’not going t’like y’suddenly,” he pouted.

She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and bit her lip. “I know you like me because I’m me, but I’ve never had the best self-esteem and I know that’s not good in itself, but I do pride myself as a really hard worker. I want to do well and get good grades, but I know it’s not...” she sighed and put a hand on her forehead. “I’m not making sense,” the frustration evident in her voice.

“Kitten,” Harry’s voice was so gentle but in one word he sounded so encouraging as well. It was like magic. “I want you t’do whatever makes y’happiest; whatever makes you the most successful. M’supporting you fully. One hundred percent,” he shrugged, grabbing his own backpack and pulling out a folder of papers. “If that means we are studying for a bit, then I want t’study.”

She was lucky she didn’t shout that she loved him from the top of her lungs right then.

At some point, her worksheets were set aside. The pizza was gone, her wine glass and a second one drained. The fire crackled in the background while Harry kissed her so deeply, she felt it in every cell of her skin. Part of her wanted to run outside and lay in the snow just to cool off how warm she felt from having Harry’s hands all over her body, under her shirt, in her pants.

Harry’s hands slid just an inch lower. “Kitten,” he hummed. He wasn’t trying anything it was just the way his hands shifted. The memory of that afternoon. Studying for physics. It wasn’t the same, not even a little. She felt so safe with Harry and yet her brain wouldn’t turn off. The way he touched her the last few months felt different than the way he touched her then.

She ripped away from him, falling to the floor beside the couch. Before he could utter a syllable or help her back up to the sofa, she choked out a gasp of surprise. “I’m sorry!” she cried. “I can’t. I’m sorry. I just don’t think—” She had a hand on her chest and Harry thought she was hyperventilating. He felt so horrible.

“Kitten,” he cooed gently reaching for her. “I’m—”

“No! Please don’t apologize, it will just make me feel even worse!” She croaked and covered her face briefly pushing the tears to either side of her cheeks. “You didn’t do anything wrong. You have been so patient, so—” she swallowed. “I’m just so stupid and I feel so horrible. I want to, I want to so bad but I don’t—”

“Oh my God,” Harry whispered. His voice was filled with shock piecing together what she thought he was going to do or say. The poor, sweet thing. “Baby,” he reached for her again.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me!” She sobbed. “It’s so stupid—I’m so stupid!”

“Kitten,” he tried once more wishing she would stop insulting herself. It only made him feel more terrible. He couldn’t imagine how she felt. “My love, please stop,” he begged very gently and grabbed her arms as softly as possible but firmly, so she stopped moving.

“I’m sorry,” she sniffled. She was even beautiful when she cried. Harry couldn’t imagine his expression. It felt like a cross between a frown and sad smile. “I’m sorry,” she repeated.

“Please stop apologizing,” he brought his hands to her cheeks and pushed her tears away. “M’not mad or disappointed with anything,” he promised.

The silence was thundering loud. Eventually, when she uttered one syllable, her voice was so quiet he almost missed it. “No?”

It felt like she punched him right in the stomach. A single word question that broke his heart. “Of course not, kitten.”

She swallowed, swiped her tears away. “Oh,” she whispered. “Then... what—”

“I was going to tell you I love you,” he smiled at her. “A lot, really. ’Ve told y’before. ‘Ve never felt this way ‘bout someone the way I feel ‘bout you. I’ve been waiting for you for...” he shook his head. “Years. The second I bumped into you. I jus’ knew. M’so in love with you. It’s been very hard t’keep it t’myself all this time. M’sorry y’thought this weekend was something t’pressure you—kitten,” he stopped abruptly, looked her in the eyes and held her gaze so she would understand the sincerity of his next words. “We could never have sex a day in our life, and I would continue t’love you as much as I did the day I met you.”

Her jaw trembled like it did on the ride in that freezing truck parked outside. “You love me?” She whispered.

“Of course I do, kitten. What’s not to love?”

I made us have homework time on a weekend getaway, I don’t like drinking from red solo cups, I’ve never been drunk in my life, I haven’t had sex with you. But she kept all these thoughts to herself. “You really love me?” She repeated.

His smile was still sad, but he chuckled ever so lightly. “Yes, baby. I love you very much.”

“I love you too,” she whispered.

His face melted into a lazy smile. “Yeah?” He asked, completely awestruck. She nodded quickly, feeling at a loss for words. The fast beating of her heart made her woozy. “You’re sure? Not jus’ saying that because y’feel bad or... I know y’said you’ve never been in love before—”

“I’m very sure,” she promised. “I think I’ve loved you since you showed me where my class was,” she looked at him nervously. Like he would somehow take it back for how she fell in love so quickly after hardly knowing him. Instead, his already gentle gaze softened even more, and he kissed her softly, his lips brushing so gently against hers. It made her mouth tingle with wanting more but she wasn’t sure she could breathe properly to tell him that. They had kissed a lot in those three months but somehow this one made her unsure—as if he suddenly made her forget how to kiss. When he pulled away, she felt an ache in her chest like she wasn’t close enough to Harry. “Again,” she whispered. He smiled and slotted his mouth back between hers kissing her, almost harder, deeper. He pulled away carefully, cupping the back of her neck. “Again,” her voice was sure, but she looked flushed, nervous.

“Kitten,” he whispered, his face a little disapproving.

“I want to,” she promised.

“Kitten,” he repeated, stronger this time. Allie had texted him the previous night and all it said was Delete this after reading: you BETTER be good to her, or I will rip your throat out without an ounce of remorse. At the time he had wondered what prompted such an aggressive message. Things with Allie had been good. He felt he had her trust after all she knew about his past relationships. Maybe that was why she felt so at ease to send him the threat. In a way he was kind of grateful for it. Like a final note that she accepted him.

Of course, Allie.

Have a great weekend 😇

He laughed at the time, the duality of her best friend’s messages. But the previous one was gone, deleted and part of him wished he could show someone (not that he would) only because it made him smile.

All of it made sense now and he was not smiling. She shook her head, shame filling her entire body and promptly appearing all over her features. “I promise, I’ll stop if I don’t want to,” she swore. “Do you not want to?”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” he whispered so softly she barely noticed the curse in his phrase—like he had whispered I love you again. “Of course I want you, kitten,” he promised. “But we don’t have to. M’happy t’do whatever y’want for the rest of our lives,” he vowed. “Y’told me y’wanted a relationship. I told you I waited a really long time for you,” he reminded her. “M’not worried about any progression in our relationship except making sure you’re comfortable,” he promised. “You,” he held her face between his hands. Like she was made of something rarer and more fragile than glass. It made her stomach flip, her heart hammered in her chest, and she felt so adored in that moment, it felt indescribable. “You are perfect,” he murmured. “Completely. Just want t’keep y’warm,” he smiled.

There were a hundred reasons she didn’t feel good enough for Harry. But he was warm and safe. Regardless of what anyone had to say about him. “Harry?” She asked.

“Yes, kitten?”

“Have you ever... brought anyone here?”

“Only when I drive Mitch and Sarah.”

“So this is a first?” Her voice was stronger.

Harry felt his face contort into a smile of total admiration for her. “Yes. S’a first, love.”

“Okay.”

“Okay what, kitten?”

She shook her head. “Nothing, just... thinking about how much I love you,” she promised. “It’s a lot,” she admitted. “Kind of weird I’ve dreamed and dreamed about love and after so many years without it while all my friends fell in love... It’s...freeing.”

Harry sighed, wishing he could fully articulate how much adoration he had for her. “M’never letting you go,” he murmured, kissed her, and kissed her, and kissed her,

And kissed her,

And kissed her.

She was wrong about the sun. It was warm in the chilly bedroom. They were dressed again, but her body was entwined with Harry’s closely. It wasn’t normal to sleep like this, but she wanted to be close. Probably closer than she was with the clothes in the way. But a winter cabin, even with heat and a fireplace, was simply too chilly.

Plus, the sun streaming through the windows seemed to be magnified, warming the bed and sheets that Harry had the pair of them snuggled under. His finger drew imaginary lines up and down her back over her shirt. He kissed her forehead and sighed. “Good morning, love,” he murmured against her hairline. “Want some French toast?” He asked. She nodded. “Y’feel okay?” He wondered. She nodded again. “Tired?” A third nod, but a more decided one. He kissed the top of her head again. “Y’want t’stay here?” She shook her head this time.

“No m’awake.”

“Y’sound awake,” he teased.

She sighed and rolled onto her back creating a rift of coolness to spread over him. He frowned, wishing he hadn’t teased her at all as this wasn’t preferable at all. “Do we have plans for today?”

He shrugged. “Had some ideas. But no. We can do nothing all weekend if y’want,” he promised.

Turning back to him, her smile was lazy, warm, and beautiful. “We better get started then.”

“Oh?” He smirked.

“Mmm,” she flung the covers back and reached back for him with an outstretched hand.

“Hey, kitten?”

“Yes’m?”

“I love you.”

Her shy grin was enough to make him thaw in the chilly cabin. His heart leapt to his throat while he watched her drop the outstretched hand. Instead, she crawled back across the bed so she could kiss him sweetly. “I love you, too,” she whispered. Finally, they meandered out of bed and she gazed out the window over the coating of freshly fallen snow. Not quite thick as a blanket, but beautifully undisturbed in the same way. “Do you think I’ll need a thicker coat while we’re out?” She asked looking at the battle of the clouds hiding the sun now and again. Harry walked up behind her after fixing up the fireplace for the morning.

He pecked her cheek, thinking about how she told him he had never been in love before. He wondered if he had ever been in love before her. “If y’don’t, I’ll keep y’warm.”

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seeingivy · 10 months

Text

enchanted

satoru gojo x f!reader

**part of my debut concert event

**part one of this fic here icymi (read before or its kinda confusing)

**part of my satoru as taylor swift songs series

content: satoru and your parents are annoying, like in the last part, readers mom just says a bunch of mean shit (including comments on body image, etc), gojo being defensive of his wife but also corny asf, babies megumi + tsumiki having lil nightmares and wanting to sleep w their parents

an: KING OF MY HEART IS ONE OF MY FAV FICS EVER. so glad the pookie who requested this asked for it bc I was so excited writing it. also corny lil enchanted lyrics are at the end. mister satoru gojo is enchanted to meet you and ur lil babies megumi and tsumiki just love you

“Dr. L/N?”

You look up from the computer, breaking away from your sheer focus of charting all the patients you just saw in the past hour (nine patients - which sounds mediocre, but in actuality is insanity on earth).

Because when they’re sick, their parents ask a lot of questions. Which you understand and always honor - but that means you’re always running on a back log, running from one room to the next with no breaks in between. Satoru thinks that you’ll collapse on the floor one day while doing it. And you tell him that he’s praying on your downfall.

“Yes, Sarah? What’s up?”

“Your husband’s here to have lunch with you.”

“Ah. I still haven’t caught up on my charting and I really need to-”

You feel a hand on your shoulder, your senior advisor, Dr. Aoki, giving you a warm smile. She’s almost thirty years your senior - soft wrinkles and grey patches spread throughout her hair.

And she really, really loves Satoru. Which you know because she doesn’t shut up about him, always going on about how sweet he is.

“Go. Have lunch with your husband. I’ll finish off for you.”

“Ah. Dr. Aoki, I can’t let you. Plus, you don’t even know-”

“You take detailed notes. And I’m old, but I’m sure I can figure it out. Now go eat lunch with your sweet husband before I do it for you.”

You smile, giving her hand a squeeze, before dragging your feet to the breakroom - suddenly hyperaware of the tension in the back of your knees, your shoulders, and the back of your eyes. Satoru’s waiting for you at the center table - two glass bento boxes and two iced coffee’s sitting on the table.

He’s scrolling aimlessly on his phone and you’re more than positive that he’s playing Cut the Rope. A game Megumi begged him to download, but now he plays more than Megumi. Which just pisses Megumi off, because Satoru plays so far ahead in the game that Megumi can’t even remember which level it was he stopped at.

You look down at the cup of iced coffee, Satoru’s handwriting inscribed on the side.

pookie <;3

Bastard. He knows you hate it when you call him that.

Satoru looks up and smacks his phone down at the table as you take his side, placing your head flat against the clear, white table. Satoru immediately directs his hand to the back of your hair, his fingers soothing into the tense muscles in the back of your neck.

“Hello my little workaholic.”

“Good afternoon my little pain in the ass.”

He laughs, lifting your head up as he opens up the boxes, sliding forward the food he made and sticking the fork in your hand. You look down at the line up - egg fried rice and a wild assortments of fruits and vegetables on the side. They’re all cut into sweet little shapes - the cucumbers in hearts, the strawberries in flowers.

Right. You had tasked Satoru with making Megumi and Tsumiki’s lunches for one week when you were on the night call. When you had returned, all he did was scold you for making very boring lunches for Megumi and Tsumiki.

Granted, you thought they weren’t half bad. You always made sure to give them a little treat - strawberry gummies for Tsumiki and sour candy for Megumi - and left sweet little notes in their lunch boxes, saying you were proud of them, that Megumi was going to do great on his presentation, and that Tsumiki looked pretty today.

Satoru resolved the situation by heading to the store and buying the special little cutouts, shiny new metal tin boxes for Megumi and Tsumiki, and even glittery stationery to leave them both notes.

Yeah and he never let you make their lunch again. He’d often drop by to the office to eat with you, since he knew that was the only time you would eat anything, and bring you by the third box he arranged with theirs in the morning.

“Hard day, my love?”

“Yeah, Satoru. And it’s not even over yet.”

He places the fork in your hand again, instructing you to eat as you keep talking, tasking himself with mixing up the layers of the coffee he brought you.

“What’s the point of working so hard? Didn’t you marry me for my money?”

“Well, obviously but-”

“Hey!”

“What?”

“That’s so rude to admit. You should keep that type of stuff to yourself.”

“Okay, Satoru. You married me as a cover for your girlfriend and-”

“Stop throwing that in my face! So you have one girlfriend and suddenly you’re the bad-”

“It is when you’re married!”

You both laugh, Satoru ruffling your hair, as he opens up the second box, sliding it towards you as you keep eating.

“You don’t want, Toru?”

“No. They’re both for you. You really do work too hard, Y/N.”

“Well. Our parents could cut us off - we don’t exactly do everything they want. And I want to be self sufficient and be a good role model for-”

“Tsumiki and Megumi. I know, my love. I’m just saying.”

You lean into Satoru’s touch, placing your aching head against his shoulder as he leans over, pressing a kiss to the top of your forehead. You finish off your own box (and Satoru’s) and down your iced coffee (and half of Satoru’s, before he starts scolding you about healthy caffeine intakes).

He gives you a sweet kiss goodbye, giving soft smiles to the rest of your coworkers, as you buckle in for the rest of your shift.

“Satoru.”

“Hm.”

“Look at what my mom texted me.”

He untangles himself from his position - which is just using you as a third pillow - and peaks his head up, squinting his eyes at your phone in the dark.

Your mom, heinous bitch she is, sent you a text reminding you about all the things you need to do for your dinner with the Gojo’s tomorrow.

Wear a dress. Make sure it’s appropriate, but enough to keep a guy like Satoru interested. You don’t want your husband running off just because you’re boring him.

Make sure to wear the wedding ring Satoru gave you, not the engagement. You’re going to look tacky otherwise.

Fresh flowers, that haven’t bloomed yet. Don’t embarrass me by bringing flowers that’ll die in a day.

And please don’t leave your hair fully down. It washes you out.

Satoru glares at the camera, looking up at your face. He finds it hard to read you in situations like this. Because in all honesty, he knows that you hate your parents. But he doesn’t miss the way you act differently when it comes to them.

Because when you’re mad at Satoru for not picking up Tsumiki on time or at Megumi for not telling you he had a project due tomorrow until nine pm, you get a reasonable amount of mad. Pink in the cheeks, a little bit of scolding, followed by fixing the problem and talking it out.

But with them you, you don’t really talk about it. And he’s not sure if it’s because he’s not privy to the conversations that you have with them, but for some reason, he thinks there aren’t any. And that you just take it, when it’s them.

Which he understands. Too well. That’s part of the reason he’s with you, in this bed right now. Cuddled up in your arms, pressing lazy kisses around your shoulder.

Because his parents asked you to marry him. Because you told him you didn’t mind if he kept his own life outside of it, that you were just doing what you had to do.

And now that he…loves you, parts of it all make him sad. That you’d take someone telling you what to do - telling you that you don’t look good with your hair down when you look good all the time and that you’re tacky or boring or-

“Hey. Y/N.”

“Hm, Satoru?”

“You know I…love you right? For real?”

“Yeah. You told me.”

“But like, for real, okay? Not just because we’re…married or whatever. I actually really, really love you. You’re very pretty and you’re always so good with Megumi and Tsumiki and you’re so good at your job and-”

You stop him in his tracks by cupping his face in his ands, quirking your head to the side. You lean down and peck at his lips, pressing your fingers into his dimples.

“I love you too, Satoru but what’s this about?”

He frowns, placing his head back in your lap as you start running your hands through his white locks of hair, soft to the touch. You can feel his cheeks are warm from his face lying against your bare legs and you can’t help but smile at the fact that he’s blushing. Even after one year of marriage (and eight months of real marriage), he’s still nervous around you.

“I don’t know. Your mom’s just stupid. You’re not boring or tacky and you look very pretty with your hair down.”

“Thank you, Toru. For getting so offended on my behalf. But I don’t care, let’s go to bed, yeah?”

He nods, shuffling the sheets around you as he sprawls across the bed. One thing about Satoru, he has to touch you when he’s sleeping.

Not in the…dirty way. It could be the coldest night of the year and he has his entire body weight on you, treating you like a stuffed animal he was sleeping with. Or it’s the hottest night of the year and he’s as far away as he can be from you - just placing his hand on your forearm or tangling one of his legs with yours.

Touchy. Even when he’s asleep.

After not even five minutes of sleep, you feel a tapping on your nose, your features crinkling up from the sensation.

“Toru. Quit tickling me.”

He murmurs back incoherently, tangling around in the sheets as a response. Right. Satoru also sleeps like the walking dead. And he can and will sleep anywhere and everywhere, almost instantly. It’s actually a talent.

“Um. That wasn’t him.”

You flutter your eyes open to find Megumi, standing awkwardly at your side. You immediately sit up, clicking on the light as Satoru starts groaning behind you, smacking his hand on the bed to get you to turn the light off. You look over at the clock and realize it’s well past three, meaning Megumi should have been asleep hours ago.

“Megs. You okay?”

“Uh, yeah. But Tsumiki, she’s like crying a lot. Usually, what I do works but she just won’t stop.”

You shake Satoru at your side, his eyes finally fluttering open as he looks at you and Megumi in confusion.

“Megumi-chan. You better be interrupting our sleep for something good.”

“Satoru, stop it. Go get Tsumiki. Now. I think she’s crying.”

Satoru immediately stands up, stalking out of the room as you turn back to Megumi, taking his tiny hands in yours. He looks like he usually does - blank expression on his face, avoiding eye contact, tiredness on his face.

You wrap one of your hands around his cheek and squeeze, feeling his skin warm under your touch.

“What do you think happened, Megs?”

“She had a bad dream. Usually, we kind of just stay with each other till it stops. But, it didn’t really work.”

“Have you had them while you were here? Or her?”

“Yeah sometimes.”

You can feel your heart clench in your chest and you immediately wrap Megumi in your arms, brushing your hands through his soft, black hair. You can still smell the shampoo in his hair from earlier, the fresh smell springing into your nose. They should be coming to you. Not each other. Megumi’s only five. And she’s just seven.

“Megumi. You know you can come to us about that stuff. Both of you. And you should be because we know how to help you and-”

You stop talking as Satoru walks into the room, craning your head to the side to survey the situation. Satoru’s carrying Tsumiki in his arms, something he doesn’t do very often, and you can hear her soft sniffles as he places her on the bed between you, rubbing circles into her back.

You take the cup of water on the nightstand (that Satoru leaves out for you everyday so you can stay hydrated) and hand it to her, directing her to calm her breaths. She’s shaking so hard and her eyes are so pink that she can barely hold the glass, Satoru taking it from her hands and tilting her head up so she can drink it.

You look over at Megumi, his eyes twitching as he looks at Tsumiki, and you direct him to sit on the bed next to you, right next to Tsumiki and in between you and Satoru.

You never really know what to do in situations like this. And neither does Satoru. I mean hell, you’re only twenty-three and Satoru’s only twenty-four. And they haven’t been your kids for too long.

Other parents, the ones who come into your practice, talk about how they know somethings wrong. They can feel it in their gut. Their parental instinct. But you don’t have any of that, especially not with Tsumiki and Megumi.

And you know it’s not something you can learn and something that just comes from being their parents, but you sincerely wish it was. Because Tsumiki and Megumi deserve to have someone who can read them like that, who knows what’s wrong with them, and talks for them when they don’t know how. And-

Satoru opens up his arms, with Tsumiki crawls into his lap and curls herself up against his chest. She looks so small, barely covering his entire frame as she hiccups into his chest, pushing the back of her hand against his eyes.

Satoru beckons Megumi to join her and he awkwardly crawls up, the two of them nestled in Satoru’s arms. Maybe you spoke too soon. Because it always seems like Satoru knows what he’s doing.

“You too, goofy.”

You roll your eyes as you scoot closer to them, laying your head against Satoru’s shoulders as you start running your hands through Tsumiki’s hair, rubbing soft circles into the small of her back like Satoru was earlier.

“Hi Miki.”

“H-hi Y/N.”

“How you feeling, sweet girl?”

“O-okay.”

You soften your hands in her hair, focusing on braiding the ends as you talk, the three of them hanging on to every word you say.

“Miki, Megs. I know you’ve…been together for a long time. Before me and Satoru came around. And I’m sure you have your own ways of…being there for each other. But, you can let us be there for you too, you know?”

You feel Tsumiki stiffen under your touch and you pull back, holding the braid in place on your head.

“I don’t mean to let each other go. You’re siblings and that’s one of the most important relationships you can have. But just know, Satoru and I can be smart sometimes. Well, I can. I don’t really know about him.”

“Hey.”

Tsumiki and Megumi laugh, which stops Satoru’s protests all together. It’s working. And Satoru’s jealous of you, because as always, you know the right thing to say. To get them to smile again, tell you what’s wrong. And sure, you’ve always had that effect on Satoru but he loves that you can do it with them too. You’ve clearly got this parenting thing more figured out than him, he thinks.

“But, we can help you too, you know? I’m a big girl. I can deal with whatever you give me.”

Tsumiki turns to the side, crawling out of Satoru’s lap as she crawls into yours, squeezing herself in your arms.

“Th-thanks, Y/N. But maybe not right now?”

“Whenever you want, okay? Let’s just go to bed now, it’s late.”

“Can I sleep with you, Y/N? And Satoru?”

Satoru leans forward, squeezing Tsumiki’s hand in hers as he nods, opening up the covers for her. Megumi awkwardly looks between you and Satoru and you catch on fast, signaling for him to join you under the covers as well. The four of you are squished together, Tsumiki clinging on to you and Megumi clinging on to Satoru.

They both fall asleep fast and you give a weary look to Satoru in the dark, which he returns with a smile.

You hate leaving at a time like this. And you hate your parents and even Gojo’s parents for making you come to a stupid dinner like this.

Your kids, that they don’t know about, need you. You had tried your best to make Tsumiki comfortable, making her a stack of warm, strawberry pancakes and letting her pick what you guys ate for lunch.

And when you had to leave her with Nanami and Shoko to go see the Gojo’s, you swear you could feel your heart clench at the thought of leaving her. And Megumi. And of the two of them being uncomfortable without you there.

You could tell from the look in Satoru’s eyes that he shared your sentiments, his gaze weary as he said goodbye, lingering by the door until you two really had to leave. And then you both made your trek to the Gojo Estate.

And god do you hate it here. In all but ten minutes of dinner, your mother, assfucking clown she was, had already found ten different things to pick on.

Your hair has split ends, you should cut it.

You should slow down on the food.

You could have worn a more flattering color.

Every spiky comment she makes, Satoru squeezes his hand in yours under the table, grounding you in the moment. If it wasn’t for him and the soft looks he was giving you every few minutes, you’re sure you would have broken the centerpiece in the middle of the table by now.

“Say, Y/N, Satoru.”

You look up to find Mr. Gojo beaming at you, the smile not meeting his eyes. You can feel Satoru’s hand tense in yours under the table and you know it’s your turn to protect him from his dad.

“Did you start trying for kids?”

“Dad.”

“What, Satoru? It’s an important question. You guys have been married for a year now and surely there’s no better time than now to start trying.”

You can feel your mouth dry at the thought. Kids. Kids of your own. Like, a crying, pooping baby - half parts you and half parts Satoru.

How in the world could they think you were ready for that? Because in all honesty, Satoru’s your husband in name but he feels like your boyfriend.

You’ve been together for eight months. You haven’t gone on a vacation together or met his college best friend and you don’t know what his favorite smoothie flavor is or what the first car he drove was and they want you to start popping out kids?

You and Satoru aren’t ready for kids. And really, you already have two kids. That need you right now. And you have all the time in the world to have more and you really, really just like things the way they are. For now, and-

“They’ll get working on it.”

You feel your eyes boggle out of your head as you crane your neck to look at your mom, a self-assured smile placed on her face. She can’t really be serious, can she?

“Oh, how sweet! A grandchild. Oh, I do hope it’s a boy. So we can pass on the Gojo name and all.”

It’s Satoru’s turn to glare at his mother and you’re sure that he has the same bitter taste in his mouth as you. Sure, they were the reason you guys got married but they had no right to treat you guys like this. Like you were put together to make some offspring for them to fawn over.

“Although, I wouldn’t mind a girl. Boys can be rowdy and insensitive.” says Mr. Gojo, a matter-of-fact tone in his words.

“That’s not true. Boys can be sensitive too. You just have to raise them right.” you respond, muttering the words under your breath.

Megumi’s sweet and sensitive. He always avoids stomping on flowers growing out of the cracks of the cement and he always writes cards for his teachers on holiday’s and always says please and thank you after every little thing you and Satoru do for him, even if it is under his breath.

“Well, I hope it’s a boy. Girls come with attitude.” your dad responds, the implication in his tone clear.

“No daughter of ours would take back-handed comments like that.”

Because Tsumiki’s never done that. Because Satoru remembers the day someone tried to pick on her in her class and all she did was calmly respond. Stand her ground, surely but firmly. Something he’s sure that she learned from you. And to think someone could dismiss that off as attitude is so fucking-

You squeeze Satoru’s hand under the table, signaling him to stop. Because he’s being rude. Because he shouldn’t talk back to your father even if he’s wrong and-

“Satoru. Stop.” you whisper, awkwardly eyeing the four of them as he deflates.

The four of you awkwardly sit in silence, the forks clicking against the plates. Satoru’s crushing your hand into oblivion under the table and you can see that he’s agitated from the way his shoulders are all scrunched up. And when his dad talks next, he really can’t hold it in anymore.

“Satoru, son. All you have to do take her to bed one time to pass on the Gojo na-”

Satoru smacks his fist against the table, the glassware making a loud noise against the surface. You look over to find Satoru smoldering, the way he often did when he was near his dad.

“Don’t talk about my wife like that. She’s not some thing for you to use. You can try that shit on anyone else but you know damn well I’m not letting you do it to her.”

Mrs. Gojo’s features scrunch up in frustration, a pinched look on her face as she starts massaging the bridge of her nose. Satoru stands up, pulling you up with him as he stomps out, dragging you out with him.

You two drive in silence the entire way home. Satoru’s still smoldering in his drivers seat, jaw tight against his skin as he clenches his fists on the steering wheel, knuckles going white. And you’re unsure of what you can say to him to ease it, make him feel better.

He parks the car in the driveway, leaning his head against the seat to look up through the sunroof, the stars glittering in the sky above you. He makes no motions to get out of the car, the engine and lights still turned on despite the fact that you and Satoru were home.

“Y/N.”

“Hm, Satoru?”

“You-you okay?”

“What? Yeah. Are you?”

He doesn’t respond and instead loosens his tie, the fabric hanging from the sides of his collar.

“I just…hate them. So much. Why would we rush having a child when we aren’t ready? And who are they to talk about you like that? Like all I keep you around for is to bear my children.”

You’re not sure what to say so you snake your hand into his, leaning over the glove box to lean onto his shoulder. You can feel him deflate under you, leaning his head on top of yours as he presses his hand against your waist, his hands rubbing back and forth on the fabric.

“Satoru.”

“Yeah, love?”

“You feel like my boyfriend, right now. I know you’re my husband but…we’ve only been together for eight months. And I know it’s weird to say but…I’d like to have a kid with you someday just…not now.”

His hand comes up, angling your face up so you’re looking at him, a big smile spread across his face. You can feel your cheeks burning from the admission and you clench your eyes shut to avoid seeing the teasing look on Satoru’s face.

“Y/N. You’d want to have kids with me?”

You nod and Satoru’s face splits into a big smile, his hands shaking in yours.

“Well, yeah. It would be cute, when the time is right. Megumi and Tsumiki can have a little sibling and it’ll be like…a little us.

“A little us?”

“Your nose, my eyes, hopefully all of my looks and none of your annoyingness.”

“You’re so sweet, Y/N. I don’t know how I ever lucked out with such a charming girl like you.” he responds, sarcasm dripping from his voice. You laugh in response, beaming at him as you talk on.

“I love you, Satoru. And I’d love to have kids with you but we’re just…we already have two kids and I think they need us right now. They haven’t opened up yet and-”

“I know, sweet. I agree. Trust me, I’d love nothing more than putting a baby in your right here, right now in this car but-”

“Pervert.”

“Why are you so rude? Every word is like a bullet wound in my chest.”

You lean over, pressing a kiss to his chest as you lean back and glare at him. He smiles at you, a sweet look on his face.

“What was that for?”

“You said bullet wound in your chest. I was just kissing your ego better.”

He leans forward, cupping your face as he kisses you, hanging off the ends of your lips as he squeezes his face in your hands. He pulls apart, pressing kisses all over your face as he talks, his words making your cheeks burn.

“You’re so-”

Kiss.

“Damn cute.”

Kiss.

“I hate you sometimes.”

Kiss.

“When we have kids, I hope they’re all like you. Pretty eyes, soft hair, snarky attitude. She’ll be so easy to love, all goofy and idiotic like you.”

“She, Satoru?”

“Oh, she’s totally going to be a girl. My three girls. You, Tsumiki, and her.”

“Sounds like you have it all planned out already?”

“Well, I’m waiting. For when you’re ready and I’m ready and all that. But yeah. I’ve already seen how our entire life is going to play out. You and I are going to grow old together. Sick it to our parents. Have the type of love kids dream about. All that lovey-dovey stuff.”

You and Satoru, hands pressed together, pad into the dark of the house, slowly climbing up the stairs. When you amble into your bed room, you can hear soft snores in your bed - Tsumiki and Megumi fast asleep under your sheets. There’s a tiny little sticky-note pressed to the light switch, which you and Satoru both squint at.

They want to sleep with "their parents”. Their words, not ours. - Shoko

You and Satoru quickly peel out of your clothes and climb under the sheets - Satoru leaning over to press a kiss to all three of your heads before fluttering his own eyes shut.

And you hate to say it, because all in all the night wasn’t perfect, but you really, really don’t want to let it go. Every part of this night is…sparkling in your mind. Satoru defending you, telling you that he loves you, that he wants to have kids with you. You-

You count yourself lucky. That you don’t have to wonder if Satoru is in love with someone else or what he thinks about you or any other thing.

Because you know the person he’s waiting on is you.

the satoru as taylor swift songs series masterlist

taglist: @porridgesblog @platrom @k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06 @bsenpai @sweetenertea @skzismyhome @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters

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writingsbyren · 2 years

Text

Summer Daze | J.M.

Pairing: JJ Maybank x fem!Pogue Reader

Warning(s): 18+ due to explicit unprotected sexual intercourse (p in v sex), oral (f receiving), language, drug use (marijuana), underage alcohol consumption. Minors, do NOT interact.

Summary: JJ overhears the reader reveal a secret about herself to the girls in their friend group. He can’t let it go and decides not only to confront her about it, but to rectify the situation.

Each year, the small costal town of Kildare hosted a series of movies in the park during the summer months as a way to entertain both locals and tourist alike. Somehow, it became an unspoken tradition for the Pogues to attend together.

Upon arriving, the girls decided to claim their spot for the evening and handle the setup, tasking the boys to obtain snacks from the designated concession stand.

JJ was the first to head back after securing drinks for the group, while Pope and John Bwaited behind for the rest of their order. He found Kiara, Sarah and Y/N sitting on a blanket they had spread out with three collapse-able chairs set up directly behind them. He took purchase in the chair behind Kie, leaning forward to pass out the drinks in his hand. “M’ladies,” he said in his best British accent, cheesy-grin on display. “Thank you, kind sir,” Y/N replied in the same half-assed accent, tying her best not to laugh as she passed the beverages to the other girls. “What movie is it this year anyway?” John B inquired, arriving with popcorn in hand as Pope trailed, holding an assortment of other junk food. Before the girls had a chance to respond, the opening credits for the movie started to roll, indicating the movie’s title. Titanic. All three boys groaned in unison, while Sarah literally squealed with excitement.

JJ would never admit it to a single soul but he actually didn’t mind the movie one bit. He found himself enthralled by the story, although he could have gone without the girls swooning over Jack every ten seconds. A nudge to his side caught his attention, making him turn his head. “Got take a piss,” Pope announced in a whisper. The blonde nodded, leaning back and smacking John B’s shoulder in an attempt to get his attention. When the brunette turned his head, JJ lifted his fingers to his lips as if he were holding an imaginary joint, lifting his brows in silent question. He watched as his friend leaned forward, whispering something to Sarah and without another word, the three boys snuck off.

While Pope headed towards the restrooms, the other two found a secluded spot behind the large screen to smoke. JJ retrieved the conspicuous joint from behind his ear, placed it between his lips and lit the end with his trusty Zippo like he’d done a hundred times before. As he inhaled, John B spoke. “This isn’t as lame as I thought it’d be,” he admitted, running a hand through his dark hair as the blonde passed the joint, casually shrugging his shoulders, exhaling the smoke with expert ease. “Yeah. Leo’s the fuckin’ man.” They continued their established rotation while discussing DiCaprio’s best roles until the bud was gone, only a roach remaining by the time Pope caught up with them. “I’m going to get another water. You want anything?” He asked, only for JJ to shake his head. “I’m good. I’ll meet you back at spot. Gotta drain the snake,” JB said, while the blonde was already walking back in the direction their seats.

With his hands in the pockets of his shorts, his cerulean blue eyes scanned the crowd as he walked, which consisted mostly of tourons and Pogues with the occasional Kook mixed in. By the time he got close to the girls, he realized what scene was taking place. The infamous car sex scene, which results in the iconic shot of Rose’s hand sliding down the foggy window. He smirked, perverted comment locked, loaded and at the ready on the tip of his tongue as he approached the girls until the sound of Y/N’s voice caught his attention. “Oh, bullshit,” she scoffed quietly, although loud enough for him to hear. “What?” Kie asked in a whisper. He watched as Y/N gestured to the screen as she spoke, “That.” His eyes flickered to the screen at the exact moment Rose’s palm met the glass. “This scene is unbelievable. I’ve never had sex that good,” she admitted, making both the other girls turn towards her with widened eyes. Sarah was the next to speak. “Wait. You mean to tell me that you’ve never..” She trailed off, gesturing to the screen. He watched as Y/N shook her head from side to side. “No, I’ve faked it,” he heard her say. “Every single time.” In unison, their jaws dropped at her admission. She simply shrugged without another word. JJ couldn’t believe what he had heard. Although he wasn’t purposefully eavesdropping, part of him felt guilty for overhearing such a personal conversation. He cleared his throat before taking his seat, announcing his arrival, so they weren’t spooked or taken off guard. Y/N was the only one to acknowledge him, giving him a sweet smile over her shoulder before turning her attention back to the movie. Meanwhile, the other girls were staring at each other, silently communicating the same thought in JJ’s mind: What the fuck.

He couldn’t concentrate throughout the rest of the movie. Instead, a million thoughts ran through his brain. What the fuck kind of guys had she been dating? Obviously, they were self-centered, selfish assholes but that was obvious well before he learned about her.. predicament. JJ never approved of any other male she hung out with. They were never good enough, simply because they weren’t him. He’d been harboring a crush on her since fourth grade but no one knew that. Not even John B. He couldn’t stop himself as his eyes fell to her. Thankfully, from where he was sitting, he had the perfect view. Not only could he appreciate her side profile or catch a glimpse of her smile while she laughed at the movie but thanks the height of his chair, he could see directly down her shirt, perky tits on full display. His mind continued to run wild. Did her previous partners even try? Because he would be willing to spend hours, days even, making her cum. Nothing would make him happier than knowing he made her feel so good, she came all over his cock. Or his fingers. His tongue. Fuck, he wanted her so bad before. With this new information available to him, his crush on her now taking on a new life of its own. His eyes raked down her body, appreciating every inch of her as he drank in the sight before him. Fuck, she’s pretty, he thought. He wouldn’t even know where to begin with a girl like her. Between her crop top and shorts, the amount of exposed skin was driving him absolutely crazy and caused him to shift in his seat due to his growing discomfort. At some point during the night, she has pulled her hair on top of her head and into a messy bun, a look that JJ was an absolute sucker for. He loved it when her hair was up. In fact, it was his favorite look of hers because he got to admire her neck without any obstruction. God, the things that he would do if he had a chance to mark her pretty neck up. JJ reached for a bottle of water, chugging the entirety of its contents in a matter of seconds before the sound of crinkling, cheap plastic caught Kie’s attention. She gave him the ultimate ‘eat shit’ look, although he wasn’t sure if it was for causing a disruption or for using plastic. Either way, he held his hands up in surrender, rasping a quick and quiet apology before blaming his sudden parchedness on the thick humidity.

Someway, somehow, JJ kept his shit together and the rest of the evening went off without a hitch. The next morning, however, was a different story.

Everyone, with the exception of Kie, stayed the night at the chateau. Which is why JJ was surprised to find the living room empty upon stumbling out, still half-asleep, from his room as the sun filtered in through the blinds. Once his eyes finally adjusted to the brightness, he walked out the front door, searching for his two missing friends before his attention was brought to the dock.

His timing couldn’t have been more perfect. There she stood, shimmying out of her tiny shorts until the only piece of fabric that remained on her body was her barely there bikini. JJ was convinced that he was dreaming as he headed in her direction, silently praying that his eyes weren’t deceiving him. As he strolled down the dock, he watched her lie down on the towel she had previously rolled out. He drank her in from head to toe, gnawing on his bottom lip as his blood started rushing throughout his body.

“Good morning, sunshine,” she said in a sing-song voice, looking up at him through the dark lenses of her sunglasses, which disguised the way she shamelessly checked him out. His hair was wild and all over the place, shirtless with his shorts sitting dangerously low on his hips, mouth watering as she appreciated his defined abs and pelvic lines. She noticed the button of his shorts was completely undone, the only thing keeping the fabric up was the zipper. Between his carefree attitude and his good looks, JJ Maybank oozed sex appeal. It was no wonder how every girl he set his sights on ended up in his bed. All he had to do was flash his pearly whites and they were goners, Y/N included. “G’mornin’, mama,” he beamed, voice raspy from sleep, the sound instantly turning her on. “Where’s Pope?” He combed his fingers through his hair, attempting to calm his bed head but failing miserably. She had to tear her eyes away from him before she risked drooling or foaming at the mouth. “Headed out this morning. Said he had to do some deliveries for his dad,” she noted, recalling the boy’s words before he dashed out the front door of the chateau. He simply hummed in response as he begrudgingly tore his eyes away from her, looking over the marshy water when a thought popped into his head. “Wanna go for a ride?” Y/N pushed herself up and onto her elbows, looking over the HMS Pogue. “There’s no telling when the lovebirds are gonna wake up,” she deadpanned. He smiled, shaking his head from side to side before he chuckled. “I’m talking’ jus’ the two of us.” His mischievous grin told her everything she needed to know. He was up to something and she couldn’t wait to find out. He watched her face light up as she grinned from ear to ear and he felt his heart skip a beat as he turned and ran back to the house.

He managed to swipe the boat keys in record time, while she snagged the last remaining beers from the fridge and tossed them into the cooler, which thankfully still had ice from the day before. “God bless, Big John and his investment in quality products,” she laughed, waiting on the porch as JJ emerged from the house, sporting the same look from earlier, except now wearing his bulky boots and trademarked red hat. It was a look that was signature JJ and little did he know, it drove her absolutely crazy. He grabbed the cooler with ease, despite its weight and lead the way to the boat. He climbed in first, sitting the cooler down and offering her his hand, which she gladly took. “Welcome aboard the HMS Pogue,” he announced with a smile as he helped her into the boat. Once on the vessel, she perched herself on the seat directly in front of the helm as he untied the boat from the dock. “My name’s JJ, I’ll be your Captain today,” he continued with his theatrics as he took seat at the helm, starting the engine and guiding the boat down the marsh. “What brings you out today, miss?” She was unable to stop herself from laughing, which she noticed was a common theme every time she was around the handsome boy. “An adventure,” she murmured, locking eyes with his. He bit his bottom lip, unable to take his eyes off of her, despite the fact that he was driving. By the grace of god, he knew knew the marsh like the back of his hand. He nodded, his mind and heart racing, although disguised by his calm demeanor. With his knee keeping the boat straight, he leaned over to the cooler, where he grabbed two beers. He opened them both with ease, handing one to her and lifting his in the air, tilted in her direction. “To an adventure?” He watched her smile even brighter as she clinked her amber colored bottle against his. “To an adventure!”

The mid-morning sun felt incredible beaming down onto her exposed skin as she lied on her back at the bow of the boat, while JJ flipped through the radio in search of a decent station. Aside from the occasional music or static from the radio and the shuffle from his heavy boots, the only other sound was that of the ocean breeze. While others were trying to get off the Cut, Y/N couldn’t think of anywhere better to be. JJ sighed, finally killing the radio without any luck of finding a decent station. “Of course, the damn thing is too old for a freakin’ auxiliary port,” he complained before downing the rest of his beer and opening another before sitting in front of the hull. He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees as he looked at her, bottom lip caught caught between his teeth. “I have to admit something to you.” His words sparked her curiosity. She sat up quickly, hand splayed against her chest. “Holy shit. Have you brought me out here to murder me?” She asked, voice dripping with faux fear, making JJ laugh. “In cold blood,” he responded, taking another swig of his beer before sitting it in an assigned cup holder. “I overheard you last night,” he said, lifting his hat off his head, running a nervous hand through his blonde locks before readjusting the hat back on his head. She made a mental note of such because it was usually a habit of his whenever he was anxious. She sat straighter, crossing her legs as she looked at him, giving him her full attention. With her brows knitted, she tilted her head to the side. “What?” He signed. “Here goes nothing,” he thought to himself. “You’ve really never had an orgasm?”

There was a pregnant pause. He not-so-patiently waited for her to answer his question, although he sat perfectly still, giving her all the time she needed. After the initial shock wore off, Y/N’s laugh echoed throughout the marsh. “Of course, I’ve had an orgasm before,” she clarified. It was his turn to be confused. “But last night.. I thought you said that..” he trailed off. Realization appeared on her face as she shook her head from side to side, the slightest brush appearing on her cheeks. “I can take care of myself,” she said softly, the brush deepening. JJ thought she was the cutest thing, despite their very provocative topic of conversation. His tongue darted out, wetting his lips as he watched her lips wrap around her beer bottle, taking a quick sip. Never in his life had he been jealous of an inanimate object until now. He would give anything for that bottle to be his dick. “Did they even try?” The question fell from his lips before he had a chance to stop it.

“Why do you care? Do you think you could make me cum, JJ?”

“Think?” He scoffed. “I know I can.” He said, very matter-of-fact, cocky smile proudly on display. It was her turn to scoff, pretending as though his words didn’t phase her. Secretly, she loved playing this game with him.

“Yeah? What would you do?” She challenged, uncrossing her legs as she removed her sunglasses from her head and tossed them to the side before leaning back, elbows resting on the edge of the fiberglass as she checked him out from head to toe.

He learned forward, seizing her ankle in his hand before slowly ghosting his palm up the length of her leg, leaving a trail of fire behind him. He leaned further until his lips were positioned directly by her ear as he spoke. “I’d start by teasing the fuck outta you.” With his hand by her hip, he played with the thin strings of her bikini bottoms, sliding his fingers underneath, massaging her hip. “I wouldn’t stop until you were soaking wet,” his breath hit her ear, making her shudder. Moving his hand as slowly as he could manage, he slid his fingertips a few inches, still under the thin material as he ghosted over the top of her pussy. “Then..” he paused for dramatic effect as his lips found her neck. He placed a chaste kiss to her skin before whispering, “I’d eat your pussy like it was my last goddamn meal.” She arched into him, silently pleading for more. He smiled, removing his hand from her bottoms and snatching his hat from his head, throwing it carelessly over his shoulder. He took her face in his hands, hovering over her as he made her look at him. She locked eyes with him and instantly, melted. “Are you going to be a good girl for me?” She whimpered in response. Fucking whimpered before nodding frantically. She’d never been this turned on in her entire life. “Words, baby,” he encouraged, thumb playing with her bottom lip as he physically ached, wanting to kiss her. “Yes,” she said, completely breathless already. He smiled so big that his cheeks hurt before finally connecting his lips with hers.

Neither of them had been kissed the way they kissed each other in that moment. There was so much meaning behind the action. I need you, I’ve wanted you for so long, I ache for you. All being communicated without a single word being used. Fireworks. It was the hottest thing either of them had experienced. When his tongue slipped inside her mouth, Y/N moaned at his taste. He reminded of her summer as the taste of Natty Light (or was it Miller Lite? Not that she cared), coconut and the faintest remnant of marijuana dominated her senses. She was in utter disbelief this was actually happening. Finally.

JJ dropped to his knees, his lips slowly pulling away from her as he spread her legs. With his eyes locked with hers, he grabbed her bikini bottoms and slowly pulled them down her legs. She watched him through nodded eyes. She leaned back, assuming her previous position by propping herself up on her elbows and lifting her legs one-by-one so he could completely remove the fabric from her ankles with ease. He smiled, licking his lips as he finally took in the sight before him. Her pussy glistened in the sweltering sun, completely soaked with her arousal. His jaw went slack as he reached forward, spreading the wetness from her opening to her clit. Her head fell back and he lifted his head, taking in the sight before him with a wicked grin before focusing on her exposed core. “Prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen,” he drawled, inching closer until his mouth was on her, completely engulfing her clit. She moaned out loud, her body immediately reacting to JJ as her hips bucked beyond her control. “Fuck,” she gasped. Within a matter of seconds, it was evident to her that he knew exactly what the fuck he was doing. He roughly sucked her clit before licking her core with broad stripes, her sweet taste dominating all his senses as he lost his mind. “So fucking sweet,” he mumbled against her, the vibrations sending shockwaves throughout her body. When she looked down and saw his vibrant blue eyes locked on her as he ate her pussy like his life depended upon it, a loud moan escaped her open mouth, echoing throughout the marsh. With his eyes still locked with hers, he reached up and roughly pulled the fabric of her top to the side until her breasts were revealed to him.

She was a sight for fucking sore eyes, looking so incredibly sinful with her legs spread wide and tits on full display. She looked so goddamn beautiful like this and her taste? He was a total a goner. Her hands tangled in his messy blonde locks, tugging at the roots when he started playing with her nipples. “Fuck. Yes!” She hissed as she pushed his face further into her. He continued his assault on her cunt by using his free hand to slip his middle finger deep into her cunt. “So good, JJ!” She cried out, smiling at the feeling of being so full. He pulled back, removing his mouth from her momentarily and watched as his finger disappeared inside of her before pulling out and pushing right back in. This time, adding a second finger that stretched her out even more. “Don’t stop,” she begged, making him smile. He went back to work, focusing on her clit as he pumped his fingers deep inside of her. He lapped her up, moving his tongue at a blissful pace, while the sounds of his fingers fucking her greedy cunt filled the boat. With his free hand, he flicked her sensitive nipple, making her moan out even more as she clenched around his fingers, signaling to him that she was close. He curled his fingers upwards, pushing deep into her and massaging a spot that was so deep, Y/N didn’t even know it existed. “Fuck! Fuck!” She groaned, hips moving against his fingers as he pressed his face further into her, shaking his head from side to side. “JJ! Please, don’t stop,” she begged, feeling that she was on the precipice of her finish. With a palm full of her tit in his free hand, he squeezed roughly, teasing her nipple with the pad of his thumb and sending her over the edge. The blonde never stopped fucking her with his fingers or tongue through her high, ensuring the feeling of pure ecstasy lasted as long as possible for her. He only stopped when he felt her nails digging into his scalp as she attempted to pull him away.

Sitting back on his haunches, he took in her post-orgasm appearance. Her chest was rising and falling as she tried to calm her breathing with a blissed our smile on her face. She was drop dead gorgeous as it was but after she came? She looked so good that his chest ached for her, almost as much as his cock, which was incredibly hard and straining against his zipper. “That’s my pretty girl,” he cooed, messaging her thighs as he crashed his lips to hers, sharing the taste of her on his tongue. Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck as she kissed him back with everything she had.

Grasping her thighs, JJ lifted her as he got to his feet, clumsily stumbling backwards until he felt the seat in front of the helm hit the back of his knees. He laughed as he sat down, bringing her with him only for him to moan when her exposed core met his clothed erection as she sat on his lap, straddling him. “Shit,” he muttered, his hands finding her hips, holding her in place so he didn’t lose his mind too early. She bit her bottom lip, hiding a smile before she busied herself by littering his neck with wet kisses. “Baby,” he moaned as she explored his neck, only to find his most sensitive patch and sucking. “If you don’t stop, I’m going to fuck you right here,” he warned, his hands falling to her ass, giving it a harsh squeeze. “Do it. Fuck me, Maybank,” She replied, rocking her hips and grinding down on his cock as she pulled back to look at him. “Don’t make me beg.” He smiled at her empty threat, while snaking one hand up her body until he wrapped it around her neck. “Mmm. Don’t tempt me,” he teased, leaning forward and biting her neck before licking and sucking the same spot, sending shockwaves of pleasure down her naked spine. He reached behind her back, untying her bikini top and ripping it away from her body before his mouth found her tits. He wasted no time, kneading her breasts before taking two fist-fulls. He guided one of her nipples to his mouth, where he happily wrapped his lips around the hardened bud and sucked before flicking his tongue against it, eliciting a wrecked moan from the back of her throat. “JJ,” she whined, head falling back as he released her nipple with an pop before repeating the same action on the other, giving her perky tits equal attention.

“I need you.” Her made his stomach flip and his dick twitch at the same time. Although he loved teasing her and seeing exactly how desperate she was for him, he needed her just as badly. “I got you, mama,” he rasped, lips finding hers as he reached for his shorts. She held his face in her hands, shifting her weight onto her knees, which were pressed against leather seat on either side of him, lifting her weight, so he could remove the only pieces of clothing that separated them. In one swift movement, JJ shoved both his shorts and boxers down his legs with ease, releasing his hard cock, which stood at attention. As her tongue explored his mouth, she reached between them, taking his cock into her hand and pumping slowly, finally giving it a fraction of the attention he needs. “F-fuck,” he hissed, breaking apart to look down, watching her tiny hand at work as his red, swollen tip leaked pre-cum onto her thumb. He knew if she continued, he wouldn’t last long and he was desperate to be inside of her. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her hand away from him, lifting it to his lips and kissing the back of it before placing it flat against his chest, directly above his heart, which was beating at an alarming rate. JJ grasped his cock with one hand and guided her down on him with the other, angling himself at her center before locking eyes with her, silently asking if it was okay to continue. There was no going back after this. They both knew it and neither of them cared. It was only a matter of time before this happened. Here it was. He ran the head of his cock against her slit, collecting her arousal before he slowly pushed in with ease.

“JJ, fuck,” she gasped as he slid into home. Once every inch was buried deep inside of her, he watched her as her head fell backwards, appreciating exactly how beautiful she was, despite her wrecked appearance. He beamed with pride, knowing it was all because of him. Giving her time to adjust, the blonde’s hands were all over her, worshiping her smooth skin and sinful curves. “Can’t believe those assholes didn’t treat you right,” he spoke, barely over a whisper. “Gonna make you cum so fucking hard that you forget them, baby. I’ll treat you right. I fucking promise.” He babbled until he felt her move. She rocked her hips against his and JJ moaned. It was his turn to throw his head back in pleasure. “Fuck yeah,” he hissed, gripping her hips tight but allowing her to set the pace. He glimpsed down to where their bodies connected before gazing at her through hooded eyes. “Ride my cock, baby.”

Something inside of her snapped, although she couldn’t tell if it was because of his dirty words, the depth of his dick inside of her or JJ in genersl. She quickened her pace before alternating between rocking her hips and circling them before bouncing on his cock. “Oh,” she moaned, finding the best angle as the head of his cock pounded a spot deep inside of her that no one else had come close to finding. “My God,” she cried out, struggling to keep her eyes open and trained on his face as he watched her. She looked so goddamn gorgeous, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from her as she used his body to chase her high. He slid further down into the chair and gripped her hips, planting his feet firmly against the bottom of the boat, thrusting his hips upwards, fucking up into her. With his brows furrowed and his bottom lip nestled between his teeth, JJ focused on giving her the ride of her life, using every ounce of energy he had left in his tank. Lewd sounds filled the boat as the combination of skin hitting skin, her wetness, his grunts and the sexiest moans he’d ever heard became his favorite symphony. “Fuck, Y/N,” he groaned, feeling her pussy clench around him as she braced herself with her hands on his defined stomach, loving the way his muscles flexed under her palms with each thrust. “You feel so good, J,” she sighed as he slowed his hips, moving his cock in and out of her at a painfully slow pace, teasing the hell out of her. “Yes,” she drawled out the last letter, smiling before biting her bottom lip. He reached up and grabbed her neck, bringing her down to meet his lips in a desperate kiss.

“You gonna cum for me?” He asked, lips still pressed against hers as he spoke, his hand tightening ever so slightly around her throat. A moan escaped as she nodded, struggling to keep her eyes open. “Not yet. Hold it for me,” he demanded, releasing her throat and wrapping both of his strong arms around her as he sat up straight. He held her to his chest tightly, one hand caressing the back of her head, while the other guided her hips to move in perfect unison with his. “J, I can’t,” she whined, her head falling forward, forehead resting against his as she struggled to hold off her finish. “Yes, you can. You’re doing so good, baby,” he encouraged, digging his fingertips roughly into her hip. “When you cum, you keep your eyes open and on me, ‘kay?” He watched her nod in understanding before diving in and kissing her swollen lips, swallowing her sounds as his tongue entered her mouth. He grabbed her hips with both hands, guiding her up and down on his cock, while he thrusted upward, his hips meeting hers roughly, sending him as deep as their bodies would allow. Y/N held on to JJ for dear life, her hands tangled in his hair at the nape of his neck as she finally gave in to her orgasm, allowing it to take over every inch of her body. Feeling her clench around him one final time, JJ followed her, allowing his own release, his eyes never leaving hers as he coated her walls with his cum. He continued pumping his cock in and out of her until they both came down from their highs, clinging to one another and gasping for air. JJ’s hands slid from her waist to her back, keeping her body pressed to his, both covered in sweat from their actions and the summer sun.

A giggle escaped her lips as he brushed her hair out of her face, while she pushed hairs that were stuck to his forehead away from his, watching as the handsome blonde smiled brightly, beaming up at her. “Holy fucking shit,” she exclaimed, not bothering to move from his lap, although they were out in the open water. They both knew they could be spotted at any given second but fuck, neither of them could care any less. “What’s the verdict?” He asked, voice dripping with sincerity as he traced her spine with his fingertips in a soothing manner. She hummed, peppering kisses all over his face. “I now understand why people have sex addictions,” she exclaimed before they both erupted in laughter. “What about the whole,” she rolled her eyes, lifting her hands, “No Pogue on Pogue macking?” She said, using air quotes, making him laugh harder as he shrugged. “Fuck that. I’ll tell John B that shit went out the window when Kie stuck her tongue down his and Pope’s throat.” He gently caressed her face in his hands, his tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip as he stared at her lips. “Which I wanna do to you so bad for at least the next hour.” Before he could reach her mouth, she stopped him with her hands against his bare chest. “Take me home, so I can give you the best head of your life and then, you can kiss me all night long.” JJ’s wicked smile returned as he gave her a playful salute, followed by a wink.

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trulybetty · 2 months

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17 x roses | joel x reader

prompt: roses pairing: joel miller x f!reader word count: 888 notes: fluff, no outbreak, no y/n, no reader description, reader has a kid summary: I don't know? You help Joel choose flowers not expecting to run into him again.

x. masterlist

Joel looked around at the vast selection of flowers and it wasn't difficult for him to get overwhelmed with the choice in front of him. He was grateful he’d skipped on the florist down the street because if the grocery store was giving him this much of an issue, he couldn’t imagine what that experience would be like.

Before he could debate on the merits of calling Tommy for advice he heard someone clear their throat behind him, “Excuse me, if I could.”

“Oh, shoot, sorry,” he apologized profusely stepping out of your way.

You were there, trying to reach for a bouquet of tulips that were just a bit too high for comfort. Noticing your struggle, Joel's initial embarrassment from blocking the aisle quickly transformed into a helpful gesture. “Let me get that for you,” he offered, retrieving the bouquet with ease.

“Thanks,” you replied once the bouquet was stashed safely in your cart.

You were about to turn away and carry on with your grocery shop when you noticed the look of confusion on his face as he turned back to surveying the buckets of flowers.

“Can I offer some help in return?” you smiled as Joel’s head whipped to look at you, the look of desperation on his face wasn’t missed.

“Could you?” he laughed, relief on his face, “I have no clue.”

“Well,” you started, taking a step closer to the sea of flowers, “you really can't go wrong with roses. They're classic for a reason.”

Joel looked at the roses, then at you, a spark of interest lighting up his eyes. “I guess you can't argue with classics,” he conceded, “thank you.” the half smile he gave you made you weak at the knees but before anything could happen your phone rang and you groaned when you saw who it was calling.

“Best of luck,” you wished him as you held your phone up in show of your reason for leaving as you hurriedly walked away with your cart.

“Momma!” came a cry from the crowd of kindergartners and it didn’t take long to spot your daughter furiously pushing her hair out of her face, out of the neat braid you’d put it in that morning.

“Ellie!” you called out as she barrelled into your legs, “slow down love.”

“You’re here!”

You nodded, with work it was hard to do the school runs, you were thankful for those in your life who could help you juggle work life and parenthood.

“I am,” you reassured her, smoothing back a few stray hairs from her forehead. “Did you have a good day?”

Ellie's face lit up, and she tugged at your hand, eager to show you something. “I made something for you!”

“There!” Ellie pointed to a valentine made with an assortment of flowers. The same ones parents had been asked to bring in the day before.

You remembered the phone call you'd received while in the grocery store, initially thinking it was a reminder about the flowers, only to find out about Ellie's getting into a fight with another child. In defence of another kid, but a fight nonetheless and you’d thought she’d miss out on the holiday festivities. Luckily you’d been able to smooth things over with the principal.

You were about to compliment Ellie on her art when you heard her name being shouted from the other side of the room.

Turning around you saw a bright-eyed kindergartener dragging her parent by the arm towards you and Ellie and looking up you were met with the same eyes from the grocery store the other day.

“Hello again,” you said with a smile meeting Joel’s eyes.

“Hi, I’m Sarah!” she introduced herself breathlessly, barely pausing for a breath before Joel could open his mouth in response, “Dad, this is Ellie, she's the one who told Jackson to leave me alone.”

Ellie, with her characteristic indifference, shrugged nonchalantly. “No big deal, he wasn’t being nice.”

You were about to chime in with caution on getting into playground fights again when Sarah’s father extended his hand to you.

“I don’t think we’ve seen you around here before. I’m Sarah’s dad, Joel Miller,” he said, his voice warm. The half-smile that accompanied his introduction was disarmingly charming, and you found yourself momentarily lost for words.

“I er, um.. I work downtown and usually my parents or my sister-in-law help with drop off and pick up.”

Before the conversation could meander further, Joel glanced at his watch, a slight frown creasing his brow. “Shoot, we've got to get moving. Dinner with Sarah's grandma tonight,” he explained, his tone apologetic.

The mention of leaving seemed to remind Joel of something, and he swiftly fished out a business card from his wallet, handing it to you. ‘Miller Contracting,’ it read. “If you ever need anything, or, uh, maybe we could set up a playdate for the kids? Grab a coffee while they play?” His suggestion was casual, but the hopeful undertone was unmistakable.

You nodded, “I think they’d like that,” but your smile told him that you would very much enjoy it also.

As they prepared to leave, Joel's voice carried back to you, “Oh, by the way, Happy Valentine's!” he called over his shoulder, his smile broadening into a wide grin that had your heart skipping a beat.

#x29 valentines #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

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soft-and-bitter · 9 months

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Not for the first time, you realize just how badly you need to escape from Steve. You have to, before he decides to turn a passing comment into reality and you’ll be trapped with him forever.

The Cure & The Cause

Mafia!Steve x Captive!Reader

Word Count: ~2k

Notes/warning(s): some sexual content, coercion, Steve is sweet but a little psycho, no plot just vibes. Reader’s been kidnapped by Steve and is being held captive for a bit before story begins. Part of the same universe that Failed Bargaining belongs to.

If you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging or leaving some feedback, thanks! ❤

When the car rolls up to the curb and a member of Steve’s unit opens the door, Sharon exits first before it’s your turn. You’ve barely stepped out of the black Range Rover before several bodyguards usher you towards the entrance of the multi-storied boutique, but the small stretch of sidewalk you cross is simply not enough for you to attempt an escape. Figures.

You’ve only ever gone shopping for a wedding dress once, when you had accompanied your best friend in search of hers. But with the costs of her traditional wedding adding up quickly, Lisa had been forced to make some concessions where her dress was concerned. Her final choice was still lovely, in the end, though admittedly it wasn’t perfect in every capacity that she’d envisioned.

As soon as you step foot into the bridal boutique, you realize right away that whatever financial concerns Lisa had during her own wedding planning, Sharon will not have. Money is, quite frankly, the least of her worries. For starters, Sharon is one of Steve’s highest-ranking, and she’s getting married to Sam, so it’s no surprise that all the stops have been pulled out. This upscale boutique is apparently one of many salons she has in mind to visit, but already it’s proving to be the most impressive.

“We have the whole place to ourselves,” Sharon mentions with uncharacteristic giddiness, just as you and the rest of the group settle into plush white sofas. You thought that that in itself spoke to Steve’s influence and wealth, but when the senior manager in her stylish black dress and six-inch heels pops open a bottle of Dom Perignon circa 1996, you’re left wondering how much of Steve’s largesse these people are truly hoping for.

Together with the champagne, the store’s personnel offer you and the others an assortment of French pastries while Sharon gets into her first dress. A collection of them has already been set aside for her based on previous consultations, but today is when she gets to try them on. You’re already reaching for your second flute when you think that for just a second, you want to imagine that this is all a normal picture, that these women you’re here with—Sharon, Nat, Wanda and Sarah—are in fact your girlfriends, rather than accomplices to your captivity. That without him present, you might just be able to subscribe to the illusion. Combined with the right amount of ridiculously expensive champagne, it’s more than possible.

This scares you more than you want to admit. Mostly because you’re stuck realizing how lonely you’ve been up to this point, even before Steve decided to take you, but also how your perception of your captivity is beginning to morph into something less depraved, a jagged picture where the edges are becoming dulled.

You swallow down another bit of champagne in response, and then a little bit more; the next thing you know, time is flying by and your reaction at every dress Sharon steps out in gets more expressive, louder. Somewhere along the way you even end up in Nat’s lap, arms flung over her shoulder, the both of you choking on laughter at a snide comment Sharon’s made about the gown that Wanda—yes, her—has chosen to try on. It’s the very portrait of idealized friendship, of closeness and devotion and support. Of course you want to believe all this, even if only for a minute.

“It looks like you ladies have gone through most of the champagne I sent,” says a low, timbrous voice that slices through the racket of laughter and loud talk.

You, together with everyone else, process Steve’s sudden presence in the salon at the same moment, only your reaction is nowhere near as positive. Amongst the wild cheers and drunken shrieks that the other women let out, you merely stare at him with your mouth agape, blinking at the sight of him in the doorway, Bucky lingering not so far behind. Rather than disappointment, your brain can only process how fucking handsome this man is, how the top of his head nearly grazes the lintel as he enters, every step full of confidence. You’re completely out of his league, your brain foggily reminds you, though you know that—just like you know what’s beneath the gray suit he’s wearing, the one tailored to perfection.

More treacherous thoughts, you realize, just like most of them today.

“It feels like I’ve stepped into a party,” Steve says, rounding a sofa to enter the fray. His blue eyes cut to you, take in your place on Nat’s lap and the way you’re holding on to her, but he says nothing.

“That’s because it is a party,” Sharon insists, a little too loudly, the tendrils of her hair dancing along the sides of her face. “What are you doing here, anyway?”

“We were driving through the district and I thought I’d drop in,” he says, still hovering over them. Bucky’s leaning against the doorway with his arms folded across his body and a look of mild amusement on his face, but he doesn’t attempt to intrude any further.

With his hands poised on his hips, Steve looks over at Wanda standing before the wall-to-wall mirrors. “Last time I checked, you’re not getting married. What’s happening here?”

“Nobody says you have to be a bride to try on a pretty dress,” Nat explains beneath you, one arm still loosely wrapped around your waist. “Sharon needed a breather, actually, so we’ve decided to take turns modeling now. Right, babe?”

She knocks a shoulder against one of yours.

When Steve swivels his head to look down at the both of you, there’s a smirk tugging at one corner of his mouth. “In that case, it’s your turn,” he commands, eyes fixed squarely on you. “Now that I think about it, I'm curious to know how you’d look in a wedding dress. And you want to please me, don’t you?”

You blink at him, letting his words wash over you. You remain sitting on Nat’s lap, even though you’re still not sure how you ended up there in the first place, and you can’t quite believe that Steve’s here too, but reality is starting to sink back in, your little fantasy cracking at the edges. These women around you aren’t your friends, and this isn’t some typical shopping excursion at a designer bridal house.

When you respond, you’re only vaguely aware how much the champagne you’ve been knocking back has emboldened you. His champagne, no less.

“Forget it,” you say, shaking your head. “I don’t want to.”

You think you may be imagining it, but the room suddenly feels quieter. Steve, though, is still looking down at you, his face still set in a calm expression.

“Find a dress, sweetheart, or I’ll choose one and get you into it myself.” He sinks into the plush sofa adjacent to yours, the sole occupant. “Knowing your tastes, you won’t like what I have in mind for you.”

You know that Steve’s not messing around, because he’s made good on a similar threat before. Worst of all, none of the women around you dissent on your behalf, not even Nat, sitting so close to you. You should feel betrayed by their silence, but it’s partly your fault you helped craft the illusion you so badly wanted to believe in.

“Come on beautiful, let’s go find you something,” Nat says gently, nudging you to stand. Maybe it’s the hurt you’re feeling, but this time around you don’t object as you follow a sales consultant, Nat trailing close behind. You pass by Bucky as you leave the private room; he throws you a look akin to mild sympathy before he joins the rest.

“My god, look at you,” he breathes, slowly rising from the plush white sofa. “My sweet, sweet girl, all dressed up to get married.”

You’d chosen a dress that made you think of a suit of armor. But by the way Steve studies you, his gaze sharp enough to pierce through any material, you just feel vulnerable. Exposed. Ironic, because your first and final choice felt the most conservative compared to all the dresses that Sharon and the others had come out in. Nat had coaxed you into wearing a veil, too, completing the whole look.

The champagne keeps your fiery spirit afloat, your tongue looser than normal. “I'm never getting married,” you say.

Steve lifts an eyebrow, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Never?"

"Never," you parrot.

“Well that's too bad, 'cause that won't be a decision you get to make. Now come here.”

You think about ignoring him for a second, just turn right back where you’d shuffled from as your own quiet brand of fuck you. But there’s a look of expectancy on his face, and at his full height, Steve isn’t one to spar with.

His hands are already on your waist when you turn to the expanse of mirrors. You weren’t wrong when you deemed this dress less eye-catching than the others, but that doesn’t mean it’s any less lovely.

“What do you think?” he asks. You can feel his fingers playing with the veil that waterfalls behind you, the way his knuckles ghost along your back.

“It's . . . fine, I guess,” you say, staring at yourself in the mirror.

“Oh, I think it’s more than fine,” he insists. “Stunning, in fact. Should I buy it?”

He doesn’t mean it, you convince yourself, but it’s not enough to clamp down on the panic rising within you. Didn’t he just hear what you’d said a second earlier?

Until now, Steve has never mentioned marriage or anything of the like. But since when did you know how his mind worked? You wouldn’t be here if you did.

“Well?”

You shake your head. “Don’t. I can’t wear white to another bride’s wedding,”

Steve chuckles as he gently draws back the veil and your hair away, sweeping both over your left shoulder. “In that case, you can wear it at home, just for me. And you’ll make sure not to wear anything underneath, won’t you?”

Goosebumps dance along your skin. His hands on your waist have you trapped in place, body pressed against his. To your alarm, you feel him hardening against your back, a threat and a promise.

" I liked it more when it was on the rack," you say hastily, trying to ignore his growing desire, "now that I'm in it, I'm having second thoughts."

In the mirror, you can see Steve shaking his head. "No, you're absolutely radiant in this. It's perfect . . . and it's just so you."

He acts without warning. You inhale sharply as his tongue trails up your neck, slow and hot. Steve was licking you—licking you—in front of everyone, without an ounce of shame. It reminds you all too well of the other night, when he had spread you out across his desk and eaten you out while he'd taken a call on speaker. He'd taken his damned time too, keeping you on the very precipice while the caller spewed all this babel your mind couldn't comprehend, all thanks to the desperate state you were in. And when he finally let you come, it had been with his hand shoved against your mouth.

Not for the first time, you realize just how badly you need to escape from Steve. You have to, before he decides to turn a passing comment into reality and you’ll be trapped with him forever.

Yeah I have no idea what this is lol; it was such a basic and simple premise that really didn’t need to be 2k plus words long, but here we are I guess. Graphics by me.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fanfiction #mafia!steve rogers x reader #mafia!steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x y/n #steve rogers au

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mswyrr · 4 months

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"The Terminator" (1984)

Now that it's 2024, this film is 40 years old (!!!). I thought I'd finally sit down and give it a proper viewing (instead of the bits and pieces I've caught of it over the years) and it holds up very well.

Assorted thoughts:

-It's way more of a Horror movie than I'd expected. I knew Sarah Connor as a kid in her T2 Badass form (and from "Sarah Connor Chronicles"). It's neat to see her begin her journey as a Final Girl

-The deliberate pacing was also unexpected - but rewarding. Cameron does a great job building tension and weaving the deepening understanding of what's going on into that. Starting off a police detective plot only to have the detectives die like punks within minutes of coming up against the Terminator? Great subversion of genre tropes that were popular at the time and very effective in raising the stakes.

-THE ROMANCE. oh. delightful. it unfolds in such a way that you see an entirely new side of Reese - first, learning his first name is Kyle and then his deeper truth, who he is as a person that feels rather than a soldier who exists to kill machines.

-huge kudos to the actor playing kyle as he exposes his vulnerability - "i love you. i always have." and you can see the shifts between the hardened soldier he's had to be and what he's kept of his softness and how much she means to that side of him. the chemistry works v well.

-him being a virgin sort of -- consecrated by fate to love her? carrying her photograph with him. (the photograph where he noticed and felt connected to her 'sadness' - not realizing that, in the moment it will be taken, she is sad over his loss). choosing to go back. makes her side of the 'fated to have a kid together' thing less uneven?? kyle is fate's bitch even more than she is. i thought i'd be bothered by how she's destined to be the mom of an important man. but the way kyle is handled makes it work for me. he carries the tragedy deep in his heart and dies gladly for her and their child, not even knowing the truth about john. gorgeous!

i can see why people point to the sex scene here as an example of one that is beautifully in character and specific and INCREDIBLY PLOT RELEVANT lol like, it's absurd that people say sex shouldn't be in movies because it's "not relevant to the plot" but this is the single most plot relevant sex scene ever loll

i really liked:

-repeated shots of their hands gripping tightly -the way kyle is just drinking her in, in awe of her and this moment -linda hamilton's earthy/sincere performance of female desire and sarah working toward orgasm -the final time their hands grip each other tightly - and then the slow release of their fingers and the way the editor chose to have their hands letting go be a fade to black…. poignant, given what's going to happen 😭

"in the few hours that we had together, we loved a lifetime's worth" - love that quote and everything coming together in the end, as you see how the photograph was taken. lovely tragic romance!

#the terminator 1984 #romance #my meta #sarah connor #kyle reese #sarah x kyle #long post

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ash5monster01 · 2 months

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Goes On Chapter Six

Pairing: Charlie Dalton x OC!FemReader

Warnings: 18+, depression, mentions of suicide, heavy topics, eventual smut, slow burn romance, fluff, gender themes/stereotypes.

Summary: Against his best efforts Charlie has to start at a new preparatory school after the tragic events that took place at Welton. The very events that led to the loss of his best friend and getting expelled in the first place. He has no plans to make friends let alone get close to anyone ever again. That is until he meets Evelyn and her interesting group of friends. No matter how hard he tries to push them away he finds it to be impossible. So he caves and in the end learns that life can still be enjoyable even if it feels like everyone is against you.

word count: 2.4k

Five ←→ Seven

Masterlist

Ridge Academy, NY

2/5/60

As much as Charlie hated attending planning committee meetings, he found himself showing up every single time, not wanting to disappoint Evelyn. He knew he had already disappointed her enough during his time here and she was genuinely just trying to be a good friend to him. The least he could do was attend the meetings to a club she cared very much about. So even though the last thing he wanted to do on a Friday afternoon after a long week of classes, was attend this meeting, he started the journey there anyway.

“Hey” Evelyn grins widely at him when he enters the room and Charlie quickly notices how she’s the only one here, hands feverishly working as she ties goodie bags with hearts all over them.

“Where is everyone?” he asks, confused why even though he’s about two minutes late, Evelyn is the only one sitting here doing stuff.

“Oh no one showed. That’s normal. Everyone fizzles out after a while. People always love planning until it comes down to the actual work” Evelyn says with a sigh, hands still moving a mile a minute as she places an assortment of candy in each bag and ties it off. This should be their classmate Sarah’s job considering she suggested goodie bags at the first meeting.

“You’re the easy credit club then huh?” Charlie asks, noticing how she fights off a sad look on her face.

“Sadly and since I love it too much I continue to let it go instead of risk losing my club” she mutters under her breath and Charlie sighs as he moves to sit next to her. Evelyn’s hands don’t stop until Charlie’s lands on her own.

“When you asked me to help you plan the dance you really meant it, didn’t you?” he asks and Evelyn finally gives up her busy work considering she needed enough goodie bags for the entirety of the Junior and Senior class.

“Yeah, it just was nice to know that maybe someone would actually stick around the whole time” she says, a forlorn look painting her face, and Charlie smiles softly. Five months ago he more than likely would’ve attended Evelyn’s club for the easy credit but now he genuinely just wanted to help.

“Well let’s do this, you fill em, I tie em?” Charlie suggests and the grin the cracks along her face is all the confirmation he needs as Evelyn scoops candy into a bag and passes it his way.

“I’m sure you really regret joining my club now” she says after about three bags and Charlie just laughs.

“I wouldn’t say that. You’re one of the few people in this school I can stand and do not get all excited. Someone just can’t learn boundaries” he tells her but the wide smile is all he needs to see to know that she has already taken it to heart. He smiles back until an image of Neil comes to mind and that smile quickly leaves as he turns to tie another bag.

“You do any clubs at your old school or just sports?” she questions, not noticing the change in his demeanor and Charlie feels his heart sink.

“School newspaper, service club, and-” he wants to say it. He wants to say it so badly. It sits on the tip of his tongue and urges it way out but even the thought of it reminds him of everything he was given and everything he had lost. Learning you had free will came with discovering you’re never as free as you think.

“What? Can’t remember?” Evelyn teases and Charlie reminds himself to not be upset with her. She doesn’t know, he made it that way. No one here knew what he had been through. How four months had changed the direction of his life completely.

“Something like that, at Welton everything was serious. The dean would meet with every single one of us to assign extracurriculars ‘based on merit and desire’ and if you missed a practice, a meeting, it was instant demerits. He could assign you or unassign you whenever he felt. It made the things that were supposed to be fun, suffocating” Charlie says, thinking of all the ways that entire school suffocated him until it stomped his lungs out. In fact, he was pretty sure he hadn’t had a real deep breath since then.

“That’s awful. My meetings aren’t even required and people still don’t show anyway. Yet I suppose if we had harsher rules put in place maybe we’d have a higher graduate success rate” and she’s right. Yet it doesn’t mean it’s a good thing. These schools are taking away kids free will, their desire to pursue the things in life they love. All it does is give schools more Ivy League graduates and the world heartless robots. Like his father.

“The school would have a higher success rate. The question is, would you?” Evelyn doesn’t entirely know what he means so she lets the words sink. In a way it really doesn’t affect her how many successful graduates the school has. It would only matter if she was successful and even then, would she even want to go to college?

“What’re your friends like. You know, back at Welton?” and the question catches Charlie off guard, almost whiplashing him from the change in conversation. Yet he doesn’t let it hurt him like it should.

“They’re the best. All of them. Knox is empathetic, the kind of guy who wears his heart on his sleeve. He met a girl once and knew she was the one. Went all the way to her school just to recite a poem he wrote about her while she had another boyfriend. He just knows, about everyone he meets” Charlie says, an unknown smile covering his face.

“That’s so sweet” Evelyn coos and Charlie chuckles remembering how crazy Knox was for the very girl he is dating now.

“Then there is Steven, we call him Meeks. He’s wicked smart, like smarter than anyone you know. He knew Latin fluently by the time he was ten and he would do anything I said. He’s so loyal, helped me with my homework every night” Charlie says, recalling all the times he nearly failed if it wasn’t for the help of his red headed friend.

“And Gerard Pitts, taller than a sky scraper and ignorant all the same. Clueless about life and love and yet somehow he was really damn good at it” Charlie says, daring a glance at Evelyn who soaks up each of his words as she scoops more candy into bags.

“And there’s Todd, he started at Welton in the Fall and I’ve never seen a guy trip over more words in my life. He is so shy, and so quiet, but so passionate. I always thought people who were shy had nothing to say, but turns out they just have too much, they can’t decide what comes out first” Charlie says with a hearty laugh because of how true it was. Todd surprised him, he surprised everyone.

“And Neil-” Charlie’s mouth shuts hard and fast, tears burn at the back of his eyes. He had gotten so caught up, reminiscing on his friends and the good times. For a split second he had forgot. Forgot that his very best friend had died.

“You okay?” Evelyn asks, confused at his abrupt stop and Charlie takes a moment to swallow the regret that sits in his throat. He basks in that fleeting moment of what it felt like to think Neil was still here. He takes the opportunity to still feel it.

“Yeah, Neil is my best friend. Since my very first day at Welton when I was ten years old. He was my first roommate and we’ve been inseparable since” the words sit heavy on his chest because it turns out they were no longer together and Charlie never could’ve imagined the day. “He would do anything for anyone, even if he just met them. Kindest guy I know. He’s probably the only reason I didn’t get expelled sooner. He is always so good at keeping me in line. Accepting of everyone and everything, I always wished I could be like that”

"You're like that" Evelyn says, surprising him and acting as if the words she just uttered weren’t as serious as they were.

“All I’ve done is push you away since I got here” Charlie countered, unsure how she would even see him as accepting.

“Yeah but that doesn’t mean you don’t accept me for who I am. Trust me, I could tell. Girls my age have never liked me because I was different. I’m outgoing and I never care what people think, I say what I’m thinking all the time. I never had a real friend until Violet. You may not want to be friends with me Charlie but I know it’s not because you don’t like me” she explains and Charlie suddenly realizes Evelyn was a very lonely person. He’d never seen her with anyone but the group and even then she seemed closer to Nate than Violet. It was the first time he realized someone could be lonely even with friends.

“I like you Evelyn, very much” Charlie admits and he knows he’s going to regret it when a cocky grin creeps across the girls features. He knows some witty response is sitting on her lips but before she can say it and embarrass him further, the door swings open.

“Hey!” Laurie is quick to greet them, whipping the door closed behind her and turning the lock.

“Someone looks distressed” Charlie muttered, eyeing the girl whose wild eyes glance out the small window at the door. When she quickly dodges out the way both Evelyn and Charlie giggle at her behavior.

“Nick Harrison is trying to ask me to the dance” she finally informs them both and Evelyn is the only one to laugh since Charlie doesn’t even know who Nick is.

“Just tell him no Laur, he’s gonna have to get over this crush soon enough” Evelyn says, picturing the 5’4” boy with wide rimmed glasses and persistent runny nose from allergies. He was sweet but determined and Laurie had been his conquest for years.

“I don’t want to break his heart and I heard Jay Adam’s wanted to ask me too and if that little rascal beats him to it, I’ll be humiliated” Laurie says walking towards the table and Evelyn giggles again, imagining the tall and handsome football star beside little Nick Harrison.

“Okay well Laurie, hear me out. If Jay doesn’t ask just take Nick. He has good intentions and a good heart, you might even have fun” and suddenly Charlie is attracted to the girl beside him even more.

“Listen, I’m not promising anything but maybe. I’ll just have to avoid him until then” Laurie says, moving to glance back out the window and Evelyn just shook her head.

“Good luck then” she offered her blonde friend and Laurie turned to grin at them both as she fixed her bag on her shoulder.

“Thank you, see you” and she was blowing a kiss and sneaking back out the door into the hallway that must be clear of Nick now.

“So this whole bring a date to the dance thing is a big deal, huh?” Charlie asked, now alone with the beautiful girl again.

“For the Valentines dance, yeah. It’s kind of like announcing to the school who you’re with, have a crush on, and so on. Exactly why it’s my goal to make it perfect” she explained, a soft smile on her face that suggested the very dance was the kind of thing a girl wanted to get asked too. Dreamed of getting asked too. If Charlie was the same guy he was five months ago it would be this very dance he’d take opportunity to find the hottest date too.

“That’s cool, kind of sweet actually” Charlie said, looking away from the girl as he tied the few goodie bags he had yet to catch up on and Evelyn took a moment to really look at the boy. She could see there was so much more bubbling under the surface, just begging to come out.

“Yeah, it can be. If you get asked at least” and Charlie realized that this suggests Evelyn had never been asked to the dance. He looks up to meet her eyes and as much as she smiles he still sees the sadness that resides there. The longing for someone to actually want her exactly the way she is.

“What’re you doing after this?” Charlie suddenly blurts and Evelyn finds her heart pounding from the sudden question.

“Nothing, probably homework since Violet will be out with Marty” she says and Charlie smiles a different smile than she has ever seen on him. This was a smile of a boy who simply just liked a girl and wanted to get to know her better. A confident boy just dying to come out.

“Let’s get dinner, I haven’t really left campus since I got here. It’ll be fun, my treat” and Evelyn can’t help the smile that crosses her face because for the entirety of his time here all she has wanted is Charlie to spend time with her and now here he was asking her to do something non school related.

“Okay, sounds fun” she agrees and Charlie nods and starts back on tying the bags in front of him but Evelyn no longer cared about completing the goodie bags because she was going to hang out with Charlie Dalton. Finally.

When the bags were finally completed the pair collected their things and started their walk off campus. In search of a restaurant amongst the small town, no lull in conversation the entire way, and Evelyn vaguely wondered where this Charlie had been the whole time. Outgoing and fun Charlie would could make her laugh and was so passionate about everything around him. It made her wonder the very thing that could cause a boy so full of life like this to cut himself off from the world. Yet she never asked out loud despite wanting to, because she wasn’t quite ready to scare him off just yet. So they ate dinner together and got to know each other all while Charlie debated if he should even ask her to the dance at all.

Neither of them knowing Nate sat outside Evelyn’s door with a dozen roses waiting for her to get back so he could ask her to the dance himself.

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