#and a lotta things are happening all at once | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

alisonsfics · 6 months ago

Text

place to crash

pairing: carmen berzatto x reader

summary: carmy steps in as your knight in shining armor when your apartment’s electricity breaks, which makes you both test the line between friends and something more

word count: 2.9k

warnings: swearing, whole lotta fluff

“Oh, come on. Hurry the fuck up,” you muttered to yourself. You were currently on hold with the electricity company.

After a hectic service at the Bear, you had come home to your pitch black apartment with no power. The one thing you wanted to do was curl up and eat some leftovers while watching some tv, but that clearly wasn’t happening tonight.

“Hello? Are you still there?” The man’s voice echoed through the speaker. “Yes, I’m here,” you said, quickly. You didn’t want to risk him hanging up on you and having to start this process all over again.

“So, it looks like our crew has already gone home for the day. We can’t send anyone to look at it until tomorrow morning.” He told you. You huffed, running your fingers through your hair. “Alright, thank you. Have a fantastic night,” you said, passive aggressively.

You threw your phone down onto the kitchen counter.

With the electricity out, that also meant no air conditioning. You pulled your hair up into a quick ponytail. You were already sweating, so you knew there was no way you could stay at your apartment for the night.

You glanced back down at your phone, and it felt like the answer was staring you in the face. You opened your contacts and saw the one person you knew you could always rely on.

You clicked on Carmy’s name, smiling to yourself when you saw his contact photo. It was a goofy picture of the two of you from a party that Sydney threw. He had his arm haphazardly thrown around your shoulders. You were sticking your tongue out at the camera while he kissed your cheek.

You both had a history of becoming more affectionate than normal when you had been drinking. That night was a great example.

It only rang once before he answered. “Hey, what’s up? Are you okay?” He asked, immediately. Having seen Carmy less than an hour ago, he knew something was going on if you were calling him so soon.

“Hey, I’m fine, no need to panic. I just have a little favor to ask you, but you can totally say no—” you started to explain before he interrupted you.

“You’ve got it. What do you need?” He answered without a second thought. It made your cheeks heat up. Carmy was always ready to drop everything for you.

“You don’t even know what it is yet, Berzatto.” You told him, giggling to yourself. You couldn’t see him, but you could perfectly imagine the way he’d shrug. “I don’t need to know. I have no reason to doubt you.” He said, simply.

“Not even gonna make me work for it?” You teased him.

“You never have to work for it. Not with me,” he told you, honestly. Every time you talked to Carmy, it became harder for you to pretend you weren’t head over heels for him.

“Alright, well the power is out at my apartment—” you started to tell him. “Come stay at my place tonight,” he offered. You felt so grateful for him.

“Are you sure it’s not a burden? You don’t have to feel pressured to say yes.” You assured him, but you knew his answer wouldn’t change.

“Of course I’m sure. I’m not letting you stay at your apartment with no power. Come on over. I’m making dinner now. You eaten yet?” He asked. “No, not yet,” you told him.

“Alright, perfect. I’ll make you a plate, and I’ll see you in a few minutes,” he said, and you could hear that he was smiling.

“Thank you, Carmy, truly. I’ll see you soon,” you said, before hanging up.

You quickly grabbed a bag and stuffed some essentials inside it before heading out the door. Carmy’s apartment was only a short walk from your apartment. After five or ten minutes, you were at his door.

You knocked on the door and heard a lot of noise on the other side. “It’s open,” you heard Carmy yell.

You turned the doorknob slowly before walking inside. You saw Carmy turning his pullout couch into a bed. He was neatly fixing the blankets and adding some pillows.

You also noticed the table was set with two plates of pasta, and you couldn’t tell where, but from somewhere in the apartment jazz music was playing.

“You didn’t have to do all of this for me, Carmy,” you said, feeling guilty. He put a final pillow on the bed and walked towards you. “I wanted to,” he said, simply. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you in for a quick hug.

“I’m sorry about your apartment,” he said, sincerely.

“None of that is your fault, Carmy. You don’t have to apologize.” You replied. His hand grazed the small of your back, and he gestured towards the dining table. He even made sure to pull your chair out from the table for you.

“Such a gentleman,” you said, unable to get the smile off your face. You always felt like a giggly schoolgirl around Carmy. “Only the best for you,” he jokingly flirted, but wasn’t willing to push it any further.

Carmy cared about you so much. You were practically his world, and he was terrified that if he told you that, you’d leave.

After eating dinner, you both got ready for bed in Carmy’s bathroom. It made you feel like a married couple, and you had to force yourself to ignore it.

“I know I’ve asked you like ten times, but are you sure you don’t want my bed? I can sleep on the couch.” He offered, wanting you to feel right at home. You grabbed his hand without thinking about it.

“Carmy, you are so sweet, but I promise that sleeping on a couch will not kill me. I will be fine, sweetie.” You told him. You weren’t sure where the pet name had come from. You’d never called Carmy “sweetie” before.

Carmy had practically jumped out of his skin hearing the name roll so smoothly off your tongue. He only wanted to hear you call him sweetie from now on. It took everything in his power to not confess his love to you right then and there.

“Okay, fine,” he gave up, knowing you were more stubborn than he was. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into a tight hug. You happily wrapped your arms around him as he held on to you.

You were taking in every part of this moment. You could smell his cologne, the same one he’d worn since you met him. You’d told him how much you liked it once, and he promised himself he’d never change it.

“Goodnight. Sleep well,” he said, kissing the top of your head and leaving you smitten.

You walked into the living room, and fell asleep within seconds of crawling under the blankets.

In the middle of the night, a sound woke you up. You jumped to sit up, looking around to see what the noise was. The bright LED numbers from the clock read 3:42. You realized the sound was someone jiggling the doorknob on the front door.

You jumped off the couch and ran into Carmy’s bedroom. You were half awake, and it was the only thing you could think of.

You reached forward and placed your hand on Carmy’s forearm, trying to wake him up. He jumped up as soon as you touched him.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, quickly. Even being half awake and in a dark room, he was somehow still able to sense that you were afraid. “It sounds like somebody’s trying to come in the front door.” You told him, which woke him up fast.

He grabbed the bat from beside his bed and headed towards the front door. Your fear only made him more confident. He knew that he needed to step up and protect you.

You stayed behind him. He got within a few feet of the door. Then, you both saw the door start to open.

“Get the hell out,” Carmy threatened whoever was on the other side of the door.

The door quickly was flung all the way open. “Cousin, chill the fuck out. It’s me.” You both heard Richie say.

You both breathed a sigh of relief. Carmy dropped the bat down to his side, irritated at Richie. “Do you know what time it is? What the fuck are you doing here?” Carmy asked him.

Richie flipped on the light switch and held up his spare key, as though that explained his presence.

“Oh shit, Y/N? What’re you doing here?” Richie asked, finally noticing you standing behind Carmy.

Before you could even answer, Richie’s eyes darted between the two of you. He saw Carmy just in boxers and you in an oversized tshirt, which he assumed must’ve belonged to Carmy. Then, it made sense to him.

“Oh wait. You two are hooking up?” He asked, smirking at the both of you. Richie was the most convinced of all your friends that you and Carmy were meant for each other. He saw it all, especially the way that your’s and Carmy’s gaze always found each other in a crowded room.

“No!” You and Carmy both quickly assured him, but Richie’s smirk didn’t fade. He didn’t believe either of you for a second.

“She’s just sleeping here tonight,” Carmy tried to explain.

“Oh yeah, I’m sure there’s been lots of sleeping going on here.” Richie teased, causing Carmy to put his head in his hands.

“The electricity is out at my apartment, so Carmy’s letting me crash here tonight. That’s it,” you tried to shut Richie up.

“So you came here for the electricity?” Richie asked, very aware of the double entendre. He loved how much he could get under yours and Carmy’s skin with just a few comments. “You’re the worst, Richie.” Carmy said, exasperatedly.

“See, we have the pullout,” you said, gesturing towards the couch. You saw a mischievous glint in Richie’s eyes. Richie was like a brother, so you knew the joke he was going to make before he even opened his mouth.

“The pullout COUCH, you fucking child,” you said, smacking his arm. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Carmy with his eyes trained on the floor and his hand covering his mouth as he tried not to laugh.

You crossed your arms and frowned at him. “You are not helping,” you said, glaring at him. He quickly held his hands up in surrender, not wanting you to hit him too.

Richie moved past the joke, but wasn’t quite ready to stop teasing you yet.

“The couch looks pretty messy to me. I wonder how that happened.” He teased. You knew that was just trying to get under your skin, but if you stopped denying what he was saying, he’d be so much worse.

“Yeah, cause I jumped up in a panic thinking someone was breaking in.” You defended. Carmy placed his hand on your back, rubbing small circles. You and Richie were the two most stubborn people he knew, and he knew that neither of you liked to lose an argument.

“And little Carmy was ready to protect you? I won’t lie, that’s pretty sweet, dude.” Richie said, watching the way Carmy’s cheeks turned a soft shade of pink.

“So, why’re you here?” Carmy asked, changing the subject. Richie plopped himself down on the couch. “I need to crash here too. My neighbors are in a big fight and they won’t shut the fuck up.” Richie explained.

“Well, you aren’t staying here. Go find some other fucking place to stay.” Carmy said. He didn’t want anyone to break up his alone time with you.

“That’s not what you told her.” Richie argued, gesturing towards you. Richie had a point, but Carmy would never tell you no.

“Richie, just please leave. Besides, there’s nowhere for you to sleep,” Carmy begged him. Carmy knew if Richie stayed out, it would ruin everything with you. Richie would tease every move he made, and he couldn’t be as affectionate with you. That should have been Carmy’s first indicator that you both were more than friends.

“I’m taking the couch, you two figure out the rest.” Richie said, grabbing you both by the wrists and shoving you into Carmy’s bedroom. Carmy went to open the door, but realized Richie was leaning against the back of the door.

“Richie, let us out,” Carmy begged. You went and sat down on Carmy’s bed. “Carmy, c’mere, you know Richie’s stubborn, and he won’t give up,” you said, patting the spot next to you.

“Reminds me of someone else,” he teased you as he sat beside you. You lightly smacked his arm. “I am not stubborn. I was out there defending myself but also defending you. He’s gonna be insufferable at work tomorrow. He’ll tell everyone that we hooked up, and we’ll never hear the end of it.” You rambled.

“He’s been trying to get us to hook up for years, it might just be easier to actually do it and shut him up.” Carmy joked before he could process the words he was saying.

You felt your eyes go wide. “I’m sorry, Carmen Berzatto. Did I mishear you? Did you just suggest that we hook up?” You asked, truly stumped.

“Don’t look at me like that. I was just joking.” He tried to backpedal. He couldn’t read your expression, which was a first. It was because if he’d actually suggested it, you would have said yes immediately.

“I’m sorry about this. First, your apartment. And now, Richie being Richie.” He said, letting you rest your head on his shoulder. “Carmy, none of this is your fault.” You said, grabbing his hand and tracing your finger over his tattoos.

You both were painfully aware of the fact that you’d never been this physically close before. This was beyond the level of affection that you both could defend as friendly.

“So, if it wasn’t Richie, you were gonna protect me?” You asked.

“Of course, I was. I’m always watching out for you. Gotta keep my girl safe,” he said, wrapping his arm around your shoulder.

You sat straight up. Once again, you thought you’d misheard him. “Oh, fuck it,” he said, cupping your face and kissing you roughly. It didn’t take you any time to kiss him back.

He pressed his palms against your back and carefully pushed you back onto his bed. You ran your fingers across his toned chest. You could feel his muscles flex under your touch.

“I thought you said you were joking,” you teased him as he pressed kisses down your jaw. He let out a soft chuckle, his chest shaking against you. “Why? Do you want me to stop?” He teased.

“Fuck no,” you mumbled, cupping his face and pulling him down to kiss you. His fingers fumbled with the hem of your tshirt, letting his hands slip under it and caress your skin.

He felt you groan against the kiss and took it as a sign to keep going. One of his hands crept higher up your chest while he removed his other hand. He grabbed the bottom of your shirt and was ready to pull it over your head when the door burst open.

“Richie, the fuck? Get out,” Carmy yelled, quickly pulling your shirt back down to make sure you were completely covered. You hid your face in Carmy’s chest, not wanting to face Richie. You could already imagine the smug grin on his face.

“Well well well,” Richie said, in his signature “I told you so” tone.

Carmy didn’t want to put up with his gloating. “Richie, enough. Out!” He repeated, grabbing a pillow off the bed and throwing it at Richie’s face. The whole time he kept one arm wrapped around your waist, keeping you close to him and letting you hide from Richie.

Richie jumped backwards to dodge the pillow and finally closed the bedroom door. As soon as the door clicked closed, Carmy cupped your face with one hand and kissed you again.

You could feel the butterflies in your stomach as he ran his hand down your side. He let his fingers trace every inch of your skin.

You placed your hand on his chest and pushed him away. “Did I do something wrong?” Carmy asked, immediately concerned.

You quickly shook your head, trying to reassure him. “There’s nothing I want more right now, but we can’t do this with Richie here. You know that, Carm.” You said, caressing his cheek.

“One part of my brain knows that, but the other part knows how long I’ve waited for this, for you,” pressing a soft kiss against your cheek, “but you’re right.” he said.

“We’ve waited this long, what’s a little longer?” You joked, smiling up at him. He kissed your forehead, falling in love with the way you were looking at him. “Tomorrow night. I’m gonna take you out to dinner, and we’ll have a real date. I’m gonna spoil you.” He said, brushing a piece of hair behind your ear.

“I’m looking forward to it,” you said, leaning forward to peck his lips.

You both sat in silence, soaking in the moment. You both knew that it was perfect, and you wanted to remember it forever.

“You look really pretty in the moonlight.” You complimented him, admiring the way Carmy’s curls framed his face.

“You’re making it really hard to not fall in love with you,” he teased, pulling you in for another kiss.

taglist: @laurakirsten0502 @miraclesoflove @nathaliabakes @millipop18 @lillyssh-tposts @shyinadarkplace @vanteguccir @missroro @guacam011y @sw33t-cupid @ice-dtae @leyannrae @sia2raw @nyx2021 @just-a-littlebit-of-everything @shyconversationalbookworm @shadowhuntyi @visenyaverse @ruzannetheseahorse @superdeath @wandaswifeyforlifey @spookyqueen @mcuswhore @bookwormchick91 @princess-evans-addict @n3ssm0nique @peakascum @cjand10 @namsey1987 @supernaturalstilinski @stephv213 @warriormirkwood @one-sweet-gubler @narliesstuff @bibissparkles @stupiidfrogs @navs-bhat

Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist for all my imagines or for a specific character/fandom!!

#carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto imagine #carmy berzatto fanfiction #carmy berzatto fic #carmy x reader #carmy the bear #the bear #carmen berzatto fanfiction #carmen berzatto imagine #carmen berzatto fic

1K notes · View notes

a-kaash-me-outside · 11 months ago

Text

˚₊‧ ᴡɪʟʟ ɪᴛ ʙᴇ ᴄᴀsᴜᴀʟ ɴᴏᴡ? ‧₊˚

♡ ft. geto, toji, gojo, higuruma, nanami ♡ total wc: 10.9k // nsfw minors dni! // ♡ contents: ౨ৎ 𝑎 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑢𝑡𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 ౨ৎ, afab reader she/her pronouns, no smut in gojos or tojis im sorry, emotionally stunted men kinda but they grow isnt that nice (not talking abt higuruma and nanami god no), the aftermath of fwb caught feelings, consolation, emotional aftercare ig, lotta domestic fluff for higuruma and nanami's!!!! (everyone say ty @noosayog for nanami's bc she is the only reason i wrote his) ♡ listen along: casual by chappell roan ♡

- ᡣ𐭩 time passes and people change, and just because you fell first doesn't mean you don't get a happy ending + bonus continuation of higuruma's and nanami's ᡣ𐭩 -

ᯓᡣ𐭩 ɢᴇᴛᴏ [ 3 ʏᴇᴀʀs ]

on the list of people that you thought you’d see tonight, geto isn’t even in the top 100, not because of probability or likelihood, but solely based on the fact that you have not thought about this man in years. if you were asked the question from your future self, “holy shit, guess who we saw tonight?” you would’ve listed old friends, distant relatives, exes, minor celebrities, other flings, teachers from high school, people from stories you’ve only heard of, and then geto.

after that night, you really didn’t see barely any of him. a few posts on your feed: one 2 weeks after and another 2 months after that one when you remembered that you forgot to unfollow him. once on campus: him across a million tables getting lunch with some girl too long after your little thing for you to care about who she was to him at all. once at a mutual (though you didn’t know was mutual at the time) friend’s party close to graduation: you ran into him grabbing a drink from the cooler and neither of you said a single word to each other, just exchanged a very knowing glance.

fast forward a handful of years, with geto not on your mind during a single one of them, and you’re stunned, nearly speechless, as you recognize him across the bar. the track of which your mind is racing takes you stop after stop to thoughts and feelings you didn’t really ask to experience. they follow a curving roadmap in your mind of: why is he here? ↝ wow, he looks great ↝ does he live nearby still? ↝ that’s weird ↝ no, it isn’t weird, i still live here ↝ then what are the fucking chances that he’s here ↝ no, seriously he looks so good

he looks different though, you realize about 3 minutes into sneaking glances in his direction, in some way that you just can’t put your finger on right now. in your slightly tipsy state, you barely stop to ask yourself how you even clocked that it was him so quickly, how there was no hesitance in the recognition or questioning in the placing. he looks really fucking good.

in fact, now that all of the obligatory thoughts have come to a heed, that’s really the only thing that you can think about. how good he looks.

the events that happened that ended your situationship all of those years ago are nothing but outlines now; whatever you said or he said just sounds like underwater conversations. you can see the way that you left and you remember being dumbfounded, but everything else has lost its sting, like a story you’d recall to a friend of a friend in a setting much like the one you’re in. time has handled the memory the way that time does and as a result, when the two of you finally make eye contact after what feels like an hour of missed mutual glances, you offer a small wave. a wave that says, “i remember only knowing you in past tense. we are such different people now, i wonder what it would’ve been like if we met now instead.”

the wave was the first step, technically, sure, but he makes the literal first step. he departs from the conversation he’s been enthralled with for as long as you’ve been stealing glances and he weaves between people in the middle of their own stories before ending up in front of you.

when he does, he asks, as if he’s just randomly bumped into you rather than intentionally coming over, “shit… is that you?” he puts his hand on the back of your chair, thumb brushing your shoulder.

the friend that you’re with cocks their head, furrows their eyebrows, has no idea who this is or their connection to you, the timelines of their interactions with you spaced too far apart for one to know the other. geto notices this look, addresses it. “we used to…,” he pauses, “see each other? for a little bit.”

you can’t help the laugh that bubbles up from your chest at the way he describes it. “yes, yes we did,” you nod. “back in college,” you explain a little further, “been a while.”

the interaction quiets, the two of you exchanging soft smiles instead of words, and your friend knows where this thing is going before either of you even do, so they bow their head, offer their seat to geto, and take their leave in the name of some bullshit excuse. he takes it without a second thought, asking you how you’ve been, laughing about the time that you saw each other at that party, and after an hour of just talking he says, “yeah, i actually thought about you the other day.”

you nearly choke on the drink he’s bought you. you rush to put it down. “you did?” you ask.

he nods. “i don’t even remember what prompted it. i think, maybe, i saw a photo of myself from college and how different i looked and how different i feel now and then just, out of nowhere, remembered how shitty i was to you.”

you don’t say anything in return, running your finger around the lip of your glass as you stare at him. you don’t know how to say that you don’t care anymore, that you haven’t thought of those days in years, that the surprise that you displayed a few seconds ago was completely genuine, because you were so convinced that neither of you had. it comes out something like a shrug and, “we were practically kids.”

he answers so quickly, “well, kids or not, i’m sorry.”

you laugh, gently so he won’t think you’re laughing at his apology. really, you’re laughing at the notion of apologizing for an act that no longer warrants forgiveness. you laugh at the thought of giving it anyways. you place your hand on top of his on the edge of the bar. “thank you,” you nod. he nods back.

when you let him take you back to his place for old times sake, you’re half-expecting the same person from the ghosts of memories from years ago, like all of the things he said at the bar were just a last ditch effort to usher the night in the exact direction that it’s heading in.

but he’s different now, just like he said he was before he apologized, and you can feel it in his movements and his actions. more confident, more intentional. he kisses you first and it doesn’t taste selfish. it doesn’t feel rushed to get to the main event. he savors it, holds your head in his hands, and doesn’t touch a single other inch of your body until he’s found the right combination of fingertip pressure and tongue that has you melting into his palm.

your mind flickers to the notion that these actions might be pre planned because they feel so meticulous and thought out, but that impression quickly dissolves when he sinks inside of you, slowly, keeping his eyes locked on yours as he does, his hand reaching down to cup your cheek, fingers nearly trembling against your jaw when he presses his hips completely against the insides of your thighs.

“shit,” he hisses, hands moving down to your waist, fingers light like feathers practically crawling against your skin, as if each print was so grateful it got to make contact with the softness below. when he grips into the fat of your hips, he’s careful, intentional or not, pressing his thumbs into the bone, but not letting his nails leave a single mark. it’s pressured, but comfortable.

he holds you in place, slowly pulling his hips back and he can’t help but look down between your legs, watching himself disappear inside of you, a creamy mess at the base, shallow breaths recycled in his chest.

“hey,” you say, eyes locked on the tenseness of his jaw and the way that he stops himself with sharp inhales. he finds your gaze in a second. “don’t hold out on me here.” you rest your arm on his bicep, fingers curling around wherever they can reach.

you can feel it under your palm, his muscle tensing as his pace picks up, rhythm consistent, but unrelenting. the breaths come out of you quickly and you’re unable to hold any sort of facade. “ah- shit, f-fuck,” you cry, “holy shit.” you squeeze your eyes shut, swallowing harshly as strangled noises leave you without vetting a single one.

“n-no,” you shake your head, regretting it instantly as he slows down in response. you shake your head harder, “no, don’t stop, but- ah,” you groan, “your- you were- i meant,” you exhale a laugh, “let me hear you.”

his eyes widen slightly as he processes what you want from him, and then he listens. he leans down to kiss your lips and then your cheek and then your jaw and then your ear. yes, he’s fucking you better than you’ve ever been fucked in your entire life, but that’s not what makes you crumble. no, it’s his grunts and pants and breathy groans pressed right up against your skin.

you thread your fingers into his hair, twirling the ends of the locks between the tips, raking your nails down the base of his neck to the front, and then smoothing them down his chest. “more,” you mumble against him, and you’re not sure exactly what you mean, but he gives it to you, whatever it is. you’re certain he’d give you anything in the world right now if you just asked for it.

there’s a moment after when you’re lying there with him, shoulder pressed up against his, chest heaving, barely recovered, that you find yourself back in that college dorm. you don’t know why the tightness is rising in the hollow below your sternum, but it is. you remind yourself that you weren’t expecting anything from this anyway, so it doesn’t matter, but it does. you’re not sure if you just don’t want to be treated like that again or if it has something to do with geto being the one lying beside you.

when you turn your head to face him, he’s already looking at you. he doesn’t shy away in embarrassment, like it’s wrong that he’d be gazing at you after all of that. his features are steady, confident, strong. he smiles softly, brings his hand up to cup your cheek. “should we get breakfast in the morning?”

in the morning, you repeat in your head. you wait a beat, trying to come up with something to say, to proceed with caution or to discern his intentions or to at least not sound desperate, but all that comes out is, “in the morning?”

he nods, turning on his side so he can stare at you without his neck getting sore. he inches closer to you, kissing the top of your shoulder and then your temple. he drapes his arm over your stomach. “if that’s okay with you,” he says and then kisses you again.

“okay,” you nod back, lazy smile on your lips, eyelids heavy at the warmth surrounding you now as he pulls you closer to him. “yeah, sure,” you affirm, voice so soft and airy that the tightness in your chest is lifted away with the words, all that’s left is a hope you feel comfortable letting stick around.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 ᴛᴏᴊɪ [ 3 ᴍᴏɴᴛʜs ]

you are not expecting anyone. you have resigned yourself to a nice pair of pajamas and comfy socks and a warm cup of tea and a spot in the living room that you will only leave for a refill and bathroom breaks. you are tucked into the corner of your couch, back pressed up against the sturdy arm, legs crossed, and a throw blanket over your lap.

you are not expecting anyone, so the sound at the door should have felt a lot more jarring. well, it is jarring for a second, a few seconds actually, the echoing disruption bouncing off of the walls of your living room and back to you, but then the noises repeat themselves, like they’re on a looping track, and you realize that-

you know that knock. heavy-handed with a tight fist, back of the knuckles, not the tops. almost pittering out by the end of the three successions, like the first one is direct and assured, but the second and third don’t really bother keeping up. that knock almost makes you run to the door. if it were 3 months ago, you’d be skipping to the door.

but you hesitate for a few reasons. firstly because when the connection hits that you know that knock very well, you remind yourself to proceed with caution. secondly because it sounds the same but with a difference as small as a hairline fracture. you heard that knock far too many times during the span of a year and a half, and this one sounds almost completely identical, but there’s a half second pause between the first knock and the second knock and the raps feel less impatient.

you don’t have to look through the peephole to know who’s standing on the other side of the door, but you’re glad you do anyway. if for nothing else, it gives you a slight edge, you’re convinced, like you’ve seen him first, you have the upperhand now. at least, that’s what you tell yourself.

toji hadn’t contacted you since he left that day. no texts. no calls. no showing up at your apartment at 3 am. nothing. you kept telling yourself that you’d hear from him. when that didn’t happen, you started telling yourself that you didn’t care if you heard from him. you’ve actually been waiting for this moment, replaying what it would look like if he came back, the things you’d say to him and how you’d say them.

now, looking out at him just standing there, you’re frozen. every scenario you’ve replayed in your head, all of the emotional venting and blow out screaming that you’ve rehearsed and you can’t recall a single scene. you think about leaving him out there, about telling him to go away through the door or just pretending like you’re not home.

“i can see the shadow of your feet under the door,” toji calls out, muffled by the barrier between you guys, and yet it still rings out through your entire body.

you slowly open the door. though, even if it took an entire hour to open the door, you’re not sure it would’ve mattered. you don’t think time is something that could’ve prepared you for seeing him. seeing him didn’t even prepare you for seeing him. you don’t know what to say, so you don’t say anything, folding your arms over your chest. you just wait.

“i-,” he starts, but then immediately stops, half sighs/half scoffs as he leans his chest forward, eyes scanning the inside of your apartment, for what exactly you’re not sure.

“what, toji?” you ask, voice stronger- and more annoyed- than you anticipate it being. you’re grateful for that. “why are you here?”

“shit, this is already hard enough for me t-,” he says, shaking his head, corner of his mouth tugging upward in frustration.

you narrow your eyes, cutting him off, “sorry, this is hard for you?” you feel like laughing or strangling him more than you do crying, which is a desired outcome in this situation, you suppose. “you know that you haven’t talked to me in three months, right? you haven’t talked to me?” you ask, and you can feel your pulse in your wrist and your chest now, because the lines are coming back to you slowly, one by one, circling your brain, fueling your confidence.

“yeah, no, of course i know that,” he combats, like you’re the one that’s being an asshole right now.

you smooth your fingertips against your eyes, blocking the sight of him out for just a second before gesturing with your hand as you ask, “are you going to answer my question or…?”

“look, i said that this is hard enough as it is for me to just be here,” he snaps, and if you were a little less annoyed, if he hadn’t come at this whole thing exactly how he was, you might’ve clocked the desperation in his voice or the uncertainty in his pupils.

“do you know how fucking stupid you sound right now?” you ask. it’s a rhetorical question.

one week after he left, you were certain he was going to come back. you and toji had gone a week without seeing each other or even speaking. you had even gone two weeks. sure, the conversation felt much more serious and, sure, really deep down you knew this time was different, but still, you held out dumb hope.

one month after he left and you realized this was not just him being weird and distant. this was something brand new that you had never had to deal with before. you were still trying to figure out how to navigate it when the two month realization hit: that maybe he wasn’t coming back at all, ever, maybe you had done something wrong. if he had shown back up on your doorstep during that time this conversation would’ve gone very differently you think.

but he didn’t. he showed up at month three when your reaction to random memories of toji were no longer tears and guilt, but laughter and bitterness. there weren’t many things that toji could say right now that would warrant anything more than you standing in your doorway for 4 minutes or less.

“i-,” he starts, but then sighs. he looks left, down the hallway of your building, eyes shifting from object to object out of your view.

“please don’t waste anymore of my time,” you reply and it’s softer than you intend. you thought it’d come out angrier. that seems like a theme for you tonight: everything sounding different in your head. when he doesn’t reply, you start a countdown, promising yourself that when you make it to 15, you’ll close the door in his face. you only make it to 13.

“i’m not here to waste your time,” he says, with no air of disgust or annoyance, the first halfway decent thing he’s said to you tonight. “i-,” he huffs again, “i’m here to say sorry. and-,” he hesitates.

you wait, just listening. the longer that he hesitates, the more time you have to think about what he might say and how you’re standing with your door open for the entire floor to hear your conversation. you’re not sure what’s worse, having this conversation in the confines of familiar grounds or the openness of neutrality.

“and ask… are you already seeing someone else?” he finishes.

you’re dumbfounded, blinking at him slowly before responding in the only way you can think of right now, “goodnight, toji.” you shake your head, cursing yourself for expecting anything more.

“no,” he rushes to say and then stumbles over the rest, “i- i tried to see somebody else, quite a bit of other people actually…”

you scoff, squinting at him, saying more sternly this time, with an added attestation of closing the door in his face, “goodnight, toji.”

he reaches out with a quick reflex, grabbing the door before you’ve barely even moved it. “wait, no, i- fuck,” he mutters, scrambling, “can i just come in?”

“so that was your plan then?” you drop your hand from the door. “to come back here unannounced, be shitty to me, ask if i’m sleeping with anyone, tell me that you’ve slept with lots of people, and then ask if you can come inside?” you ask.

“i didn’t have a plan-,” he replies.

“clearly,” you interject.

“but i’m trying,” he finishes, and you’re waiting for there to be more, to explain exactly how this constitutes as trying, because you don’t really see that here.

“fucking christ, toji, you’re going to have to try harder than whatever the fuck this is,” you sneer.

“we- we had a good thing,” he tries again. you don’t understand how every time he opens his mouth it gets worse and worse. why are you even entertaining this anymore?

“fuck you, man,” you scoff, and it feels like all of the anger has left your body, and in the void where it once was present is nothing but disinterest.

“no, not like that,” he backpedals. maybe if he would say more than four words at a time, or four better words at a time, then you wouldn’t have to keep filling in the blanks or being pissed off or- “for the last six months of our relationship, i didn’t sleep with anyone else,” he admits like it’s the answer to all of your problems. the word relationship burns at the forefront of your mind so hard that you don’t realize what he’s said for 10 whole seconds.

“i, so what?” your voice is unconvincing even to your own ears. you had slept with other people even 2 months before that last day. that wasn’t the issue. you guys were allowed to sleep with other people. you had an explicit conversation about the fact that you could sleep with other people, something along the lines of, hey, we can see other people right? yeah, we’re not fucking dating. okay, just checking.

the so what, you had already answered for yourself, inner voice replying to your own question, screaming, you guys were exclusive, unknowingly to each other, for 2 whole months before you confessed and he left.

his answer is much different. he says, “so nothing really. i just- i needed you to know that.”

“well, what the fuck do you want me to do with that?” you ask, and it comes out bitter and discouraged, but what you really mean is, please tell me what you want, please, can you just tell me that you missed me.

“whatever you want,” he answers instead.

you take a deep breath, a million emotions coursing through your veins and up your throat. “you know what?” you say, and it doesn’t sound angry, it sounds playful, “no, seriously,” you smile and then you laugh, “fuck you, toji.” you close your mouth like you’re done talking, like that’s all you needed to say, but your heart disagrees, forces more words out into the air no matter how hard your jaw is clenched shut.

“you show up here and you’re an asshole and then you’re decent and then you say shit like that and then- then i ask you what you fucking want from this, what you’re trying to play at here and you tell me whatever i want?” you say, exasperated.

“what i wanted was for you not to leave me three fucking months ago. that’s what i wanted,” you spit, “i wanted you to tell me this shit three fucking months ago before i sat alone, by myself, sad and then angry, and the entire time, fucking missing you, you fucking asshole. that’s what i wanted.”

and then it’s there, out in the open, airing for the two of you to witness and to face, and no matter what happens, you know you’ve done everything and said everything that you’ve needed to. he’s quiet for a few moments and you let him be, not tapping your foot or rolling your eyes or being pissed off, but just letting it play out. if this is the last time you ever see toji, why not just let it play out?

“okay,” he says, and it’s soft in a way you’ve only ever heard from him one time in your entire relationship. “i’m sorry.” he pauses. “i really don’t know how to do this,” he admits and you believe him. it feels different from when he told you something along those lines earlier, but you have a feeling that this is what he was trying to say all along.

“do what?” you push, because your mind is making assumptions, but if he’s going to prove anything to you, he needs to start now.

“ask for forgiveness?” he says, like he’s thinking out loud, “apologize? date someone?” you don’t say anything. you’re looking for something more concrete than that. it takes a handful of uncomfortable seconds before he says, “actually care about someone.”

“and do you?” you ask.

his lips press into a thin line, his eyes shift from left to right again. you can feel him getting antsy with the conversation and he’s barely said one vulnerable thing. you look at him, eyes soft and pleading, silently begging him that if he’s grown from this, you’ll let him back in, you swear, but you’ve been hurt before and you know what you’re worth, so you’re going to need some sort of evidence as collateral. “yeah,” he mumbles, but it’s audible. “you,” he says like it isn’t obvious, and it’s quiet and daunted, but you really appreciate the effort.

“okay,” you say, and that’s all you say.

“okay?” he questions, confused. “that’s it?”

“yup,” you say, but your small smile and the fact that you’re not slamming the door in his face again gives away a bit more than that.

“can i… come in?” he asks, hesitant, like he’s still being tested.

you shake your head, hand gripped onto the edge of the door. “no,” you say, scrunching up your nose and furrowing your eyebrows. “because if you come in here, we’re going to have sex,” you admit, half because it’s the truth and half just to see the look on his face. (it’s worth it.)

“wait,” he says, placing his palm flat against your door, but not moving it. his hand is now inside of your apartment, the only part of his body that’s made it past this invisible barrier of hallway and your place. “that sounds like a great thing. why am i not allowed in?”

“because this is me having self-control,” you explain, placing a hand on his shoulder and pushing the small portion of him that’s crossed the division back into the hallway. when you feel his skin against your pinky, soft fabric of that familiar shirt underneath your palm, you almost make a fool of yourself right after you say the word self-control, but you remind yourself what’s at stake here, what you really want.

“i came all the way out here to see you-,” he starts, but he doesn’t make a move to replace his hand on your door, letting his arm fall back to his side. it’s for the better, too, because you’re not sure how much more self-control you have already, no matter how much you tell yourself about longevity and whatever.

“if you really care,” you interrupt him, using his few vulnerable words against him, “and you weren't just trying to sleep with me tonight,” you pause, letting those words sink in, “you will go home and you will call me tomorrow morning and we will get breakfast- the least sexy meal of them all- and then maybe coffee if i enjoy hanging out with you outside of just having sex with you, and then we will go from there.”

“i-,” he starts to protest, but you cock your head. the truth is, if he said another word, reached out and touched your cheek or your hip or really anywhere on your body, if he kissed you, or just walked inside of your apartment and sat down on your couch, you wouldn’t have stopped him. you might even have gotten breakfast with him anyways. he doesn’t know that, you don’t think, but even if he does, he doesn’t act on it. he bows his head slightly, conceding, and says, “okay. i will just… talk to you… tomorrow… then.”

you nod. “goodnight, toji,” you say, hand on the door, closing it as slowly as you opened it.

“uh, yea, night,” he says back. you won’t tell anyone, and neither will he, about the stupidest small smile you see on his lips as he leaves your apartment that night or the fact that he wakes up extra early the next morning, muttering under his breath about how ridiculous dating is before he calls you at 9:30 on the dot.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 ɢᴏᴊᴏ [ 3 ᴡᴇᴇᴋs ]

being away from ɢᴏᴊᴏ feels like detoxing. not from like hard drugs or alcohol, but… coffee.

like you know it’s not necessarily good for you, drinking it every day, but it’s a habit you’ve had for a while now and you just can’t seem to break it. it’s not really hurting anything in your day-to-day and you’ve been doing it for so long that it’s probably fine to just keep doing it.

but out of nowhere it hits you that maybe drinking coffee as much as you do is a waste of money and even if you don’t feel the negative effects constantly in your daily routine, you remind yourself of the times where you could distinctly feel the thump of your heart and the unsteady of your hands. you recall the time that you stayed up all night for the promise of a cup of coffee to get you through the day. in every memory that you’ve ever had in your entire college career, you’re holding a cup of coffee.

so one day you make the choice to stop. you stop buying coffee from coffee shops and pods for your coffee maker and cups from diners and accepting free ones from friends. you don’t really need a good cup of coffee as badly as you think you do. and it’s stupid, you think, because it’s just coffee. it doesn’t mean anything. just because you’ve been drinking it consistently for quite awhile doesn’t mean it has any sort of hold over you. it’s just coffee.

but then the headaches come and the irritation sets in and nights are hard, but for some reason mornings are unbearable, and you feel antsy all the time and you haven’t left your room in the past three days and the only thing you want is a cup of fucking coffee and you can’t relapse with coffee; it’s fucking coffee.

yeah, being away from gojo feels a lot like detoxing from coffee.

you try to just not see him. it’ll be easier for you if you just don’t see him, you tell yourself. you go out of your way to avoid his walking path on campus and you refuse to leave your dorm when you don’t absolutely need to in fear of bumping into him or worse, just seeing him from afar, and god forbid you even come within three streets of the corner where his apartment resides. you block his number and you delete social media off of your phone for the time being, too many mutual friends to make casualties, and you do not let yourself think about him. not falling asleep, not when you wake up, not while you’re doing homework, not in your dreams or in the shower, not when something reminds you of him, not when you see his favorite show on your recently watched, not when you really need a good cup of coffee.

and it works for a while.

but not forever.

three weeks into your detox and you’re doing such a good job at not thinking about gojo that you mix up his monday schedule with his tuesday schedule and on your way back to your dorm, you see him. if you keep walking at the same pace that you’re walking, you will collide with him. if neither of you do anything, one of you will get hurt.

you look down at your phone, hoping, in the forefront of your mind, that he didn’t see it was you. (in the back of your mind, you’re hoping that he’s the one to break the longest bout of silence the two of you have had since you met.) when you sneak a glance, he’s already almost reached you, jogging to catch up with you. “hey,” he calls out, just in case you haven’t seen him.

“hi,” you say, stopping in place and letting him approach you.

“i’ve been trying to get ahold of you,” he offers, like you wouldn’t have known that.

“oh, sorry, haven’t been on my phone,” you lie. he knows that you’re lying. he can tell that you’re lying, so you don’t really know why you lie in the first place. maybe to prove a point. maybe to make him feel bad.

“look, about…,” he trails off, trying to remember how long he’s been without you, “about that… day…,” he opts for instead.

you put your hand up, waving the topic off. you mean to say something like, don’t worry about it, see you later, but it comes out like, “we don’t have to talk about that here.” here. fucking here. if you would’ve left those four letters out, it would’ve been a perfect line to walk away with, but you don’t. your stupid coffee-craving brain tacks it on, hopeful.

“right,” he says, nodding, “should we get coffee maybe, then, or?”

it’s not out of the ordinary, or it didn’t used to be, but now it feels taboo. you want to snap and ask him if he’s sure, because coffee sounds a bit too much like a date for people that aren’t together, but you realize very quickly that the irritation from your coffee detox is maybe a little bit too much to hold in without any closure. “sure,” you agree, “i just got done with class so we cou-.”

“i know,” he says, because three weeks hasn’t erased your schedule from his brain either.

you order an iced tea. you’re still convinced you’re done with coffee for good. he looks surprised at your choice, like he’s never seen you order an iced tea before, because he hasn’t, but he doesn’t say anything. you sip on it throughout unpleasant pleasantries and it’s refreshing, but it’s lacking something. in fact, the longer that you drink this stupid drink that has caffeine anyways and isn’t as good, the irritation bubbles higher and higher until- “can i start?” you ask, tapping your fingers against the table in rhythmic succession.

“yeah, sure,” he says, bringing his coffee to his lips and taking a sip.

“if at any point in this conversation your answer to anything i have to say is that we weren’t together, i don’t think we should have this conversation,” you reason, and you mean it, but his reaction takes you aback. you notice the smallest flinch when you say weren’t.

“i wasn’t-,” he shakes his head, sighing, “no, i wasn’t going to say that.”

“okay,” you say, dragging your fingertips along the condensation on the side of your glass. “then what were you going to say?”

he thinks for a minute, like he didn’t assume that he’d get this far when he brought up the idea of coffee. “i wanted to stop you from leaving,” he says.

“but you didn’t,” you rebuttal.

“i didn’t,” he affirms. it’s quiet again. you can hear the scrape of the cups against the table as they’re picked up, drank from, and put back down. the chatter in the coffee shop drones over the sounds of hesitance and nerves. “i’m sorry,” he says after a while.

“so, do you think we were together?” you ask, “and be honest. i’ll know if you lie.” you search his face as he answers, and the only thing that comes up is another flinch when you talk in past tense again.

“yeah,” he says, honest. “being apart from you these past three weeks has been one of the shittiest things i’ve ever been through.”

“ever?” you ask, quirking your eyebrow, as if it isn’t somewhat true for you too.

he nods in response, continuing, “it’s been hard.” he pauses. “i’m sorry i was so shitty.”

“pretty shitty, yeah,” you agree, but you can’t hide how nice it feels to just talk with him again, to call him shitty and to sit across from him at a coffee shop table. “i’m sorry i ghosted you these past few weeks,” because it deserves to be said too.

“i really missed you,” he says, and he doesn’t hide from it. he looks you directly in your eyes and you can tell that he wants to reach across the table and hold your hand. you want that too.

“me or just, like, sleeping with me?” you ask, somewhat terrified of the answer, scanning his face for the truth once again.

he laughs softly and, try as you might, you can’t stop the fluttering in your stomach or the warmth in your cheeks hearing that for the first time in too long. “please, i haven’t thought about sleeping with you once,” he jokes.

“oh, no? not at all?” you ask, scoffing lightly, a tiny smirk threatening to break.

he forces a thoughtful frown, shakes his head dramatically and says, “can’t say that i have.” you’re laughing now, but through smile-squinted eyes you can still tell that he’s actually being genuine. “not really,” he says.

“so just me then?” you ask to make sure.

“just you,” he affirms. “a lot of just you.” you hum, content with his answer, but he gives you even more than thought he ever could, “i don’t want to just go back to the way things were. i don’t think that’s enough for me anymore.”

even though you’re sure a response like this would’ve sent waves of shock through your entire body, it doesn’t. it just feels right. you reply quickly, “good. i don’t think it’s enough for me either.” you reach across the table. the back of your hand brushes against his, and then past it. you wrap your fingers around the handle of his coffee cup and bring it to your lips.

he doesn’t protest or snatch it away from you or make a snarky comment. he places his chin in the palm of his hand, elbow against the surface of the table, and smiles at you. you take a sip from his mug, warmth spreading through every bit of your body.

why would you deprive yourself of coffee when it brings you so much comfort?

ᯓᡣ𐭩 ʙᴏɴᴜs! ʜɪɢᴜʀᴜᴍᴀ [ ɴ/ᴀ ]

you’re not exactly sure how many times something has to happen before it becomes a theme.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

“do you -huff- want to -huff- have kids someday?” higuruma asks from beneath you, palms resting on the tops of your knees, thumbs massaging up to the insides of your thighs.

you slow your bounces and then you stop them completely. you blink at him once and then twice. “that is a really wild thing to ask while you’re inside of someone,” you scoff, searching his face for any kind of tone indicator. is he being serious? is he just saying something to get a rise out of you? is this a kink thing?

he smirks, placing his hands on your hips, coaxing you to continue your movements, and you do. you lift yourself off of him, slowly at first, but then picking up speed as you chase the feeling you lost when he asked the question. you’re breathless when he asks again, the repeated question no longer stilling you. the second time around it feels almost normal. “do you?” he asks on his exhale.

you shake your head and then tilt it side to side, closing your eyes so all of the conflicting fast paced movements don’t dizzy you. “i- don’t- know-,” you huff, “maybe- conversation- for- a- different- setting.” each word is punctuated by the slap of your thighs against his hips. he nods, completely okay with that answer, and then just drops it.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

“shit,” you say in realization, hips circling, fingers combing through his hair. you pull your head away from his shoulder, pushing yourself up to look him in the eyes. “wait, how did your meeting go today?” you ask, and this time neither of you miss a beat.

when he slows to think about it, you pick up his slack, rolling your hips, feeling the drag of him inside of you, a breathy moan floating up your chest. he answers over your noises, “really good actually.”

“everything as planned?” you ask further, genuinely just as invested in this as you are in the act.

he nods, smiling. “yeah, to a t,” he says, wrapping his arms around your lower back and pulling you against his chest. he kisses the side of your temple, holding you in place with a tight grip as he lifts his hips off of the bed, thrusting into you. “surprised you didn’t ask as soon as i came through the door.”

you shake your head against his shoulder, placing a soft kiss against his collarbone. “was thinking about it all day,” you explain. he fucks into you faster in response and it feels like a reward for caring about the things that are important to him. “but when- shit- when you got home…,” you grunt, “it completely- ah, fuck- completely slipped my- ah- mind, s-sorry.”

“ts alright, pretty.” he nudges his nose against your cheek, peeling your attention to his face. your cheek rests against his shoulder and you blink at him, focus dipping from the topic at hand as you feel that familiar tightening in your core. he can see it written all over your face, so he drops his head to kiss you, silently communicating that you don’t have to worry about finishing the conversation right now. he’ll bring it up again in a bit.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

“should we get married?” he asks, back up against the headboard, looking you directly in your eyes, gaze following yours as you rise and fall.

“you are not proposing to me while i’m riding you,” you say, shaking your head, but you don’t still or slow. conversations like this in a setting like this just don’t phase you anymore. honestly, it wouldn’t surprise you if he did propose right now. you’re not even sure you’d say no.

the corner of his lip tugs upward and he exhales a laugh as he leans forward the smallest bit to kiss you. “i’m not, i’m not,” he assures, “why? would you say no?”

you’re quiet for a minute, not because you don’t know the answer, but to keep him on his toes. you won’t lie to him, you don’t think, but you don’t want to come right out and say it. his questions are rhetorical anyways, half-jokes that he’s not expecting serious answers to; you’ve known higuruma well enough and long enough to be confident of that. you could’ve replied with an eye roll and a scoff and nothing else and he would’ve dropped it. instead, however, you answer, “course not. i’d say yes in a second.”

he nearly comes inside of you right there.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

maybe it becomes a theme when someone points it out.

you can’t tell if it’s intentional or not, the way that the two of you keep having these serious conversations during sex. you know that you don’t do it on purpose; things will just hit you during the repetitive motions and you worry you’ll forget them and you know that higuruma won’t judge you for just saying them, so you do. whether this is the case for him, you’re not sure.

but the interruptions just keep getting more casual. it starts with big conversations: weddings and promotions and thoughtful decisions, and then it’s like you just start remembering things in this position: work drama and mundane did you knows. it’s almost as if starting with big topics just made it seem so easy to talk about anything like this.

it didn’t help, you think, that it’s just always easy to talk about anything with higuruma. you guys have been together, officially together, for over four years now, and conversation, no matter the topic or severity or setting, is something you’ve never struggled with. you continue to not struggle with it, inside of the bedroom and out.

you’re not sure what about the position and the moment makes you so susceptible to remembering little things that you want to tell higuruma when he’s not around, and vice versa. in fact, you’re not even convinced that it’s something about the action that jogs your memory anyway, it’s probably just a really weird and common coincidence.

and then one night you can’t find your keys.

you’ve searched everywhere for them, in your car, in your bag, every nook of your room, the places where they normally are, higuruma’s coat pocket just in case, and then everywhere else in your guys’ apartment. they’re nowhere to be seen.

when higuruma walks through the front door, even from where you’re searching in the kitchen, you hear him let out an elongated, “woah.”

you pop your head into the doorway, “don’t say anything about the mess.” you can see his eyes resting on the overturned couch cushions and then on the various opened drawers. “hey,” you warn, pointing towards him as you walk quickly into the living room. you throw your arms around him tightly and give him a small greeting peck. it’s routine at this point; if you don’t do it your whole night feels off. “i said don’t say anything.”

he lets you hang off of his neck as he puts both hands up in surrender. “i didn’t say shit,” he says, pressing a kiss into the side of your neck, then moving his hands to your waist, “the fuck happened here though?” he laughs against your skin and you can feel the vibrations travel to your fingers and toes.

you pull away from him, shaking your head. now that you’re back in the living room, it’s like you have to start this room’s search over too. you start checking under the couch and in the hall closet. “lost my fucking keys,” you grumble, smoothing your palms over your face, “i swear i’ve looked everywhere. i just can’t remember where i left them when i got home.”

“did you check th-,” he asks, walking into the kitchen, grateful that you’re not in there with him or he knows you’d yell at him for the way his eyes go wide at the clutter and chaos everywhere.

you cut him off, “wherever you’re about to say, probably yes, ughhh. i’ve retraced my steps, i’ve looked in places that are fucking stupid to look in like every pair of shoes we own and in the fucking guest bedroom pillowcases. i’ve looked everywhere.”

from where he’s stood in the kitchen now, he can see you scrambling as you vent. he leans against the wall, “well, not everywhere or you would’ve found it by now.”

“i’ll kill you,” you say, eyes snapping up to meet his to show how serious you are.

he just laughs, “i’ve got a pretty good lawyer, you might not want to do that.”

“good legal can’t help you when you’re dead,” you snap, almost completely joking. he meets you back in the living room, helping you check all the places you’ve already checked.

15 minutes pass and then 35 and then he stops abruptly. “oh my god, i have an idea,” he says, and you look at him, hopeful. “you know when you usually remember things?”

your first reaction is joking annoyance, picking up a throw pillow and sending it his way. he catches it and sets it back down on the couch. “i’m serious!” he yell-laughs.

you throw another pillow at him as your second reaction sets in. “that’s not going to fucking work,” you say.

“how do you know?” he asks.

“because,” you say, trying to come up with a good answer other than just blind doubt, “because i don’t remember things while i’m riding you. it’s not a fucking superpower.”

“you don’t know that,” he jokes back and braces to be hit with another pillow. “okay, okay, but i’m being serious! besides, what’s the worst thing that can happen? you don’t remember and we’ve had sex, how horrible,” he reasons.

you let your arms fall, pillow in your hands resting against the tops of your thighs. you look at him, thinking, which, in hindsight, was a dumb thing to do, because higuruma can see the contemplation on your face.

eight minutes later and he’s inside of you and you’re the most embarrassed you’ve ever been.

“this is so stupid,” you mumble. you haven’t moved an inch after slowly lowering yourself onto him. you’re fully seated against his hips, hands smoothing over your face and then lingering there, covering.

he reaches up, fingers soft and kind as he wraps them around your wrists, pulling them away from your face. “ts not stupid,” he reassures, but you’re not convinced. you groan, turning to look away from him, but that just won’t do. he reaches up again, soft grip on your chin coaxing your gaze back to his. “hey,” he says softly, “just focus here, angel.”

you listen, somewhat, mind still flickering back to why you’re even riding him in the first place. “just enjoy yourself, okay,” he tries again, rolling his hips upwards, pressing himself inside of you as deep as he can. you close your eyes, and it’s quite easy to just focus on the feeling of being as full as you are right now. “good,” he whispers, “just like that.”

it doesn’t take long for you to lose yourself completely, moving on your own, letting the whimpers and whines take over any other thought you might think to say, chasing that feeling rather than worrying about whatever you’ve lost.

it all kinda clicks at once: where your keys are and why you always remember shit when you’re like this.

in the midst of everyday noise, so many things get lost: important and unimportant thoughts alike. but now you’re not worried about anything else. you don’t care about anything else right now. you don’t have to. you don’t want to. and in this state of letting everything go, mindless and blissful, some things slip back through the cracks.

you collapse onto higuruma’s chest, spent and happily aware of this new revelation that you have not, for once, shared in the middle of sex, but kept quiet as a come down surprise. you hum softly as he rubs up and down your back, hum again as he presses a kiss into your forehead. “m sorry it didn’t work, angel,” he murmurs.

you turn your head, ear pressed right against his heart as you gaze up at him. “i left them in the fridge,” you reveal, and he knits his eyebrows together.

you assume that he’s going to say something about how did you leave them in the fridge? or why are they there? but instead he questions, “what? and you didn’t tell me until now?” like you’ve harbored a life long secret. you laugh softly, snaking your hands up and scratching your nails against his scalp, playing with the ends of his hair. “don’t think this is going to get you out of it,” he says, “‘ts my favorite thing when you just blurt shit while you’re on me.”

you can feel the warmth in your cheeks and your chest as you breathe a laugh. “you’ve never told me that before,” you murmur.

“think it’s cute when you just can’t wait to tell me things,” he says, “feels more intimate than being inside of you.”

“ew,” you say, scrunching up your nose, even though you weirdly agree.

he just laughs in response. a few seconds of quiet comfort pass before he backtracks, “wait, why the fuck are your keys in the fridge?”

and you tell him all about it, about the day that you’ve had and how you remembered you hadn’t drank enough water so you were refilling your bottle from the pitcher in the fridge as soon as you got home from work, but your hands were full so you set your keys on top of the leftovers from yesterday, but then you had to go and set everything down and the fridge closed and by the time you left the kitchen you remembered you needed to do something else… and it just keeps going.

you tell him as you’re taking a shower and as you’re eating dinner together and as he’s brushing his teeth and you’re washing your face and laying in bed and setting your alarms. every room in the house is a mess, but you’ll deal with that later, you decide. you rest your chin on his shoulder. “and how was your day?” you ask, even though the clock reads much later than it should for how much sleep you both should get before you’re up early for work tomorrow.

nevermind that, he decides, and tells you all about it anyways.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 ʙᴏɴᴜs! ɴᴀɴᴀᴍɪ [ ɴ/ᴀ ]

“can i ask you something and when i ask you, you’ll know i don’t mean anything bad by it at all because i love you more than everything in the world?” you ask, putting down your phone only after you’ve finished your sentence.

you wait a few seconds for nanami to take in what you’ve asked. he reaches over to the night stand for his bookmark and sticks it between the pages. he shuts it with an audible shuffling of paper and a sharp thump.

nanami has been with you long enough to not typically be surprised by your out of the blue… questions. (dronings? is there a word like droning but the connotation is more positive? like you talk at him a lot and he loves to hear the ramblings in your brain, but sometimes he is just trying to read his book before bed. whatever that word is.)

he places the book on his lap and then turns his chest towards you completely. you now have his full attention. “is that a yes?” you ask.

he inhales deeply, “if i say no, will you still ask it?”

you think on the answer to that question, really mulling it over before shaking your head. “no, i don’t think so.”

“then yes,” he smirks, “i suppose i have to say yes then.”

“great,” you say, tossing your phone onto your bedside table with a clunk. you sit up straighter, rocking forward to fully adjust your position on your side of the bed. you put your hand on his thigh and cross your legs, letting your knee rest on the side of his comforter covered hip. “do you ever regret not dating more?”

it definitely takes him by surprise. he thought you might drop another weirdly specific hypothetical about would he love you if… or request a glass of water even though you already told him tonight when he was getting into bed and he asked if you wanted one, that you did not.

now he’s the one mulling over your question and despite how nerve wracking it could be to wait for an answer to a what if that involves not you, you’re not anxious in the slightest. you’re quiet, just waiting for his answer, and when he finally speaks, you know exactly why you weren’t scared in the first place, “i’ve honestly never thought about it since i met you.”

“really?” you ask, and you’re mostly feeling very lucky that nanami is yours and you are his, but there is an underlying feeling of guilt that he’s unintentionally caused with this statement.

he nods. “sounds like you have though,” he says, and it’s not even a little bit judgmental. it sounds like he’s imploring you to keep talking, like he wants to hear exactly what you’re thinking, why you brought it up in the first place.

“i wouldn’t trade this security, this love, exactly what we have, you for anything in the world,” you start to explain, and it’s nothing but the truth, “but sometimes i just think about that first night when we were in that bar. the flirting, the risks, that feeling of not knowing where the night is going to end up. sometimes i think about that a little bit.”

he hums, thinking about that night, and after a few seconds of silence, he speaks up again, “first date nerves,” he nods, “now that i think about it, i miss those.”

you cock your head at him. that’s a weird part of dating to miss, you think, but then he explains further, “like when we went out on our first date and i didn’t know what you were going to wear or if you liked the restaurant i picked or if you’d let me pay for your food.”

“or if i’d take you back to mine,” you joke, raising your eyebrows at him, but really you’re burning inside. your cheeks feel warm just hearing about these feelings he’s never mentioned to you before.

“yeah, that too,” he laughs, getting back on track, “like, i’m still finding out new things about you all the time, but back then i was discovering who you were every second we were together, and that- that felt like…”

“like finding out soulmates were real?” you ask, because that’s what it felt like to you, that same exact phenomenon he’s describing. he smiles at you warmly, like you’ve just put to words what he felt he could only experience. “i know what you mean,” you smile.

he leans forward, cupping your cheek with his hand and guiding you towards him. he kisses you softly, placing his other hand on your other cheek and kissing you harder. “should we go on a first date again?” he asks against your lips, barely pulling away to speak.

you laugh, but when you pull away, you can tell he’s not joking. “what?” you ask, “what do you mean?” you’re already blushing though, already feeling the exact first date nerves he was just talking about.

“let’s go on a first date,” he repeats himself. “i’ll pick you up at your front door and i’ll choose the restaurant and it’ll be a surprise and i’ll ask you questions that i’d ask you on a first date even if i know the answers to all of them and more at this point.”

you’re smiling so big that your cheeks are sore as you nod fervently at the concept. “okay, yeah,” you agree.

“right, so we probably shouldn’t kiss or make out or sleep with each other until then to really play into the whole thing?” he teases, and you roll your eyes in response.

“you’re very funny, kento,” you say, leaning in, brushing your nose against his. he doesn’t even last a second, closing the gap with a small peck and then another and then another and then a much longer one and then he’s putting the book on his nightstand so he can pull you into his lap.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

you get a text 5 minutes before 7 that nanami is going to be 3 minutes late picking you up. the text looks a little weird underneath a thread of:

>> nami <3 >> how’s work baby

<< read << if you love me you’ll come and pull the fire alarm to get me out of here early :) :) :)

>> nami <3 >> fine but that’s a class four felony in some cases. will you be providing legal assistance or should i look elsewhere????

<< read << how do u know that?? nerd!!!

>> nami <3 >> google tbh.

<< read << wow. first i have to stay at work all day alone and sad and now i get to know my bf isn’t sexy and off the dome smart about everything. :(

>> nami <3 >> goodbye.

<< read << :(

>> nami <3 >> i love you

<< read << :)

you bite back the urge to reply with something you’d say to him after knowing him for years. rereading the text and thinking back to your first date, it makes you giggle. actually, it makes you kinda nervous. you text back a polite no worries! take your time! and he replies with a heart and you truly feel like you’re dating for the first time again. you feel honest to god giddy.

arriving to the restaurant, you are genuinely surprised. you thought after knowing him as long as you have and having gone to as many restaurants with him as you have, you’d go back to somewhere nice you’ve already been. but that isn’t the case.

he drives you to a pop-up restaurant 20 minutes out of town that you’ve never even heard of, but is the cutest place you’ve ever been, and the entire time he can’t stop sneaking respectful glances at you. he won’t stop telling you how nice you look. he even apologizes for it by the sixth time, pushing your chair in at the restaurant saying, “i know i keep mentioning it, and i’m sorry, but if i said it every time i thought it, it’d be a never ending string.”

if he keeps this up, you’re going to feel like you’re cheating. this seriously feels like a first date, like you’ve been in a relationship for over 5 years and you’re also going on a first date and it’s really messing with your head, but you never want it to stop.

he stays true to his word, asking you questions he already knows the answers to, but hearing them again, they sound brand new. he doesn’t know if he’s just forgotten some of them or if the testaments of time have weathered your answers just enough to sound unfamiliar, but either way, he’s hanging on to every word.

by the end of the night, you’ve truly convinced yourself that there are stakes to this date, like if you play your cards wrong, you won’t get to keep seeing this incredible guy. he pays the whole bill, even though you insist on getting your meal or at the very least dessert. he says, “you can try next time too.” and you can’t breathe, you feel so lucky.

“i’m sorry if this seems forward, but i’d really like to keep seeing you tonight,” you say as the waiter takes away the paid bill, and your heart is thumping so violently against your chest, you swear he can feel it too.

he shakes his head, “perfectly forward,” he smiles, “your place or mine?” you break character for the first time tonight, giggling at the reality of the question, hiding behind your hand as you do. “what’s so funny?” he asks, but he’s grinning just as big as you are.

“just thinking about how dreary my life would be if i hadn’t gone on this first date,” you say, and it’s a little too meta, but he’ll let it slide, because he’s a bit flustered at the sentiment. “mine is great,” you answer, placing your hand on his, rubbing the tips of your fingers against his knuckles.

everything about the rest of the night feels like a first too. it feels like your first kiss in front of your front door. it feels like he’s seeing “your” apartment for the first time. it feels like you’re making out on your couch for the first time.

it feels like the first time he’s ever been inside of you.

when he pushes deeper into you, eyes on yours shut tight, you tell yourself that you want to pretend you’re on a first date every single day of your life. you can’t stop whimpering, pleading for him to never stop fucking you ever, please don’t stop, please never fucking stop.

you break character for the second time when you’re right on the edge. he keeps looking down at you with so much love in his eyes and his hands all over you feel like they know every inch of you, and you can’t stop yourself. you grab his face in your hands, “kento, baby, please, ‘m gonna- ‘m sorry, i- fuck, please. i love you, fuck,” you whine, and he can’t stop himself either, hips stuttering, head falling against your shoulder as he feels you clenching around him as he empties himself inside of you, murmuring how much he loves you right back.

the way you’ve been feeling all night: blissful and coy, it’s not because it’s a first date, it’s because he’s nanami. it’s because he’s orchestrated the entire night and no matter how “new” everything feels, the underlying foundation of that newness, and the reason everything feels so good, is familiarity and safety.

“i’m sorry that i-,” you breathe, but he stops you, reaching his hand up to drag his fingertips against your lips, and you laugh, pressing a soft kiss into them. “okay, okay,” you say, and he places his hand back down by his side. “done with the first date stuff, just want to be yours again,” you murmur.

he scoffs, light, and you can hear his smile in it. he falls over onto his back, pulling you into his chest and kissing the top of your head. “never weren’t,” he mumbles against your hair. “always will be,” he mumbles again, holding you tighter.

“good,” you say back, settling into his arms like that’s the only thing you know to be true in the entire world. you wouldn’t trade that truth for a million first dates.

sure, holding your breath at quick witted flirts and stolen glances is nice, but it’s a lot nicer just knowing that you will never be loved better and you will never love harder.

♡ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢs ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴs ᴍᴇᴀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ♡ no bc the yelling really worked very well idk yell at me more to write a continuation for toji (maybe also gojo bc hes the only one i havent written even an inkling of smut for) idk i'm just thinking of so many scenes idk throw hcs at me in my inbox IDK! toji dating for the first time? got me fucked UP

ᡣ𐭩 ᴛᴀɢs ᡣ𐭩 @igocrazyeveryday @vernasce-blogs @minty86 @abrielletargaryen @pompompompompompompom @mysticrays @lilolpotato @thisisew @pnkoo @optimisticsandwichgladiator @ryumurin @cisseadven @multi-fandom-fanfic @noosayog @anxious-chick @mintleafwrites @(tried to tag some other folks but couldnt!!)

#jjk x reader #jjk smut #toji x reader #gojo x reader #geto x reader #geto smut #toji smut #gojo smut #nanami x reader #nanami smut #higuruma x reader #higuruma x reader smut #higuruma smut #nanami x reader smut #jjk x reader smut #actually not really tbh theres no smut in tojis or gojos cant even lie #toriwritesshit

1K notes · View notes

willyoubemycherryy · 26 days ago

Text

2 𝓭𝓪𝔂𝓼 (𝓕. 𝓣𝓲𝓰𝓮𝓵𝓪𝓪𝓻)

Didn’t I tell y’all I was on the case?? He’s a bad mama jama and his accent is sexy. Here’s my heart, it’s yours.

Contains: kissing and I mean nasty kissing, drool, Fiyero is kinda obsessed and unhinged, you’re BOTH pent up, finger!ng, cursing, dirty talk, grinding, some hair pulling, multiple 0rgasms, unprotected worm riding😂, manhandling, and a whole lotta getting railed🤠 (I’m absolutely insane for him and this shows)

<333

“Alright, bye! Have a save trip back! Love you!” You yell after all your brothers and sisters, having hugged the last of them as they all exit your apartment early morning exactly 2 days later. You exhale a sigh of relief as you watch through the window at them loading into their cars and pulling off, smiling as one of your older sisters blows a kiss at your place before driving off.

A feeling of giddiness overtakes you because you can finally relax, closing your eyes for a moment as you take in the silence with a grin.

Dead calm. Oh, how you missed it.

The smell of your still burning sugar plum fairy fills the space and you push yourself off the wall to start cleaning, wanting to erase any and all traces of the headache that was most of your family.

As you’re cleaning, you find yourself thinking of everything that happened during the longest 7 days of your life. After the break with Fiyero in the bathroom and later sneaking him out the house so nobody ever found out he was in the bathroom with you- especially your sister- you all had went back to the shopping center in matching ugly pajamas to take purposely awkward pictures to send out. The poses were bad enough but Fiyero being witness had almost killed you with embarrassment. You guys made cookies and Fiyero hung around as the “judge” (it wasn’t a competition) while your sister not so subtle praised him for his looks. She didn’t know you two were dating so you let it slide but after a while you were concerned if Fiyero’s head would fit through the door with how big she was making it. Another thing you all did was something called “blind karaoke”. Basically, someone picked a random instrumental of a song and for whoever’s turn it was, they were supposed to sing the correct lyrics to that song and if they failed a certain number of times then they were “voted off the island”. It was chaotic with plenty of cheating accusations but fun.

Pausing, you look around, not even noticing how much you got done. Counters clean, floor swept and vacuumed; you decide to shower. Thankfully you cleaned your bathroom last night so less for you to do and the guest room will wait. Stripping off your clothes and turning the water on, you tie your hair up while you wait for the water to heat up, stepping in once you see the steam.

Hot water pours all over your body, soothing your muscles. It feels absolutely delightful, making you stretch with a soft hum. The atmosphere is quiet but not eerie as you gently go about your routine. You huff out a little laugh as you remember Fiyero’s critique on your shower routine that he found odd.

“You’re actually exfoliating first?” Eyebrows raised high as he watched you from where he sat on top of the closed toilet seat.

“I don’t think I like that judgey tone of yours.” You reply breezily, ignoring as you continue.

“No- I’d never-! I’m just saying wouldn’t it make sense to after you get all…soapy?” His eyes trail down your form slower, voice dropping at that last word and you flick water at him to keep him focused which doesn’t work the way you planned as Fiyero sticks out his tongue to catch more. You roll your eyes at his ridiculousness.

“Freak of nature. But no, exfoliating first helps the soap clean skin better. Y’know…the part where I get all soapy.” His eyes stay on you, licking his lips as he nods slowly and suddenly your chest feels warmer.

“I see. By all means then, continue.” You flush all over from the way he sounds but you play as if you weren’t affected at all despite the whole thing being strangely erotic. You completely naked and wet, while he watched you touch all over said naked skin while being completely clothed.

“You’ll stay the innocent bystander, won’t you?”, making your voice even sweeter, you coo at him. Your teasing backfires as Fiyero’s words send shivers up your spine.

“No promises, sweetheart.”

You rush to get out before you relive the rest of the way your little shower played out, wrapping a fluffy towel around you as you head to your room, still flushed from the memory and the heat of the water. The sweet smelling lotion you put on feels extra nice against your freshly shaved skin, as you rub it In absentmindedly; still distracted by your thoughts.

Since a hoard of your closest family members had been virtually stuck up your butt for a week, even though Fiyero had been around, you two never had a chance to be alone. Your thighs clench at the thought of the last time his hands were on you, suppressing a desperate whine, falling back onto the warm bedding. Confused as to why the bed was so warm until you remember that you’d left your heated blanket on.

You ignore the new ache in your core as you sigh, closing your eyes and turning over on your stomach. Dosing off before you know it, dreaming of pretty dimples and devious hands…

•

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

•.*

.’° •

You awake to the feeling of soft warm lips pressing all over your skin. A light gasp leaves you when they trail lower, kissing down your back and over your ass as big hands start to knead your shoulders. You call his name, a lovely purr to his ears and Fiyero hums.

“It’s been 2 days, pretty girl.“

A needier gasp comes from you and Fiyero closes his eyes as it reminds him of all the other delicious sounds he can get you to make. He told you earlier that week that he’d be back over after your family left. One: to give you time to wind down after and two: because he needed to cool off. It had been harder than he thought to keep his hands off you- used to following the pull that inspired him to be close to you at all times. Fiyero had been anticipating your reunion, missing you- wanting you so bad..but out of all the ways he’d pictured finally being alone with you going; finding you completely naked smelling like dessert and looking just like it on a warm bed wasn’t one of them. Not that he was complaining.

Feeling the bed shift, his blue eyes flicker down to see your soft thighs slightly parted, giving him the tiniest peek of the slick that’s already beginning to gather, your smooth hips shifting restlessly.

His mouth comes down heavy on your neck with wet kisses, hands wedging underneath you to pull and massage at your hard nipples. Your eyes roll back in pleasure, moaning his name, Fiyero groaning back at how responsive you are. The room feels 10 degrees hotter but it’s so good, your body thrumming as your clit pulses.

“Baby-“, the way you call out for him has him flipping you over so fast you get dizzy. You have only a few seconds to look up into his blown pupils before a pleasant current rocks through your body when Fiyero slots himself flush against your body, sucking wetly at your ears, jaw, neck, and wherever he can reach. His low groans vibrate through you and you don’t hesitate to grind up against his length, the material of his jeans giving you perfect friction, writhing and whining in pleasure. Your body jolts everytime his hips roll and his clothed cock hits your clit just right.

“Mmphf-!” Your grind becomes smoother, causing you and Fiyero to look down, seeing the dark patch your wetness left on the front of his pants. Fiyero furrows his brow before tangling a hand in your hair, dragging your panting mouth to his.

You melt like chocolate under him. Thick heavy fog fills your head and your bring your hands up to feel underneath his shirt, his flexing muscles and the patch of soft hair leading to your favorite place had you positively lightheaded. The kiss is messy and intense. His mouth demanding and merciless; he licks at the seam of your lips before shoving his tongue inside, melding it against yours as his blood rushes from the sensations and your fucked out moans.

If he thought you were wet before, it’s nothing compared to now, as he slips his hand between your spread legs.

You break apart with a gasp but you don’t get far with Fiyero’s hand in your hair as he growls against your open mouth, lips wet. In a clearer state of mind, the sounds coming out of you would have shamed you long into the future but you can’t find the concern for that anytime soon especially when you feel two thick fingers slide into you, wasting no time in fucking your tight walls.

“Damn- look at you…such a good girl, gettin’ so wet f’me”, Fiyero rasps out, not expecting an answer with the hearts in your eyes. Your cunt was practically strangling his fingers, each drag out only bought more arousal from your messy hole, the noises filling the room alongside your voice. It was everywhere and Fiyero closes his eyes at the sudden image of your knees pressed to your armpits, fat lips getting spread open as he licked you raw.

You felt so good you were on the verge of tears, hiccuping moans bubbling out of you as you finally got what you needed. Your shaky hands had undone his pants but couldn’t steady strong enough to pull them down, settling for massaging the fat length in his pants, all the pre made the glide easy, your head swimming when you imagine being fucked by it.

However, you don’t know if you even make it that far because you’re already so close to orgasm and he knows it, adding a third finger to stretch you out and the nasty squelch has him pulsing hard in your hands. His fingers go from thrusting to aiming upwards, hitting that special patch of nerves inside you and you’re soaking the bedding with all the slick pooling from you.

Drool seeps from the side of your lips and your so gone you don’t even notice Fiyero lick it off until he whispers against your lips after a particularly rough grind of his fingers has you keening high,

“You have no idea what you’re doing to me-“ he cuts off with a gasp when your thumb rubs hard into his leaking tip, heat racing up his spine like electricity.

“Y’gonna cum for me sweetheart? Gonna let her make a mess for me?”

Your lower stomach spasms visibly and he can barely move his hand from how tight your cunt is, hard clit pulsing against his thumb.

“Yeah, you are.”

In the last seconds before you come, you’re grateful that you’re pinned under him because if you were let loose, you could bite the roof of a house from how feral you’re feeling. One last roll of your soaked nub and you unravel with a scream.

Fiyero’s mouth covers yours in time before you convince your neighbors of possible murder, licking into it and swallowing your screams as you white out from the intensity, each spasm of your stuffed walls sending you higher and it takes a while for you to come down.

Popping of your mouth to give you a chance to breathe, Fiyero strips his shirt off, eyes on your boneless form. A light sheen of sweat coated both of your bodies but you’re far from done. Tilting your head up just in time to see Fiyero take his pants off, biting your swollen lips at way his fat cock slapped against his stomach, thick thighs flexing as he makes his way back on top of you. Your heart pounds hard enough to be felt through your entire body when he takes your hand, dragging it slow down his chest before pulling your hand back up, sucking the digits with a low hum, pleased at the flush that blooms all over you.

Fiyero slides his cock between your lips, coating himself with your arousal as he lines himself up to your hole. You whine in protest, “wait, lemme suck you off first-“ you’re cut off with a sharp moan when Fiyero slaps the head of his cock directly on your clit, blue eyes almost black as the sea at night as he stares down at you, voice heady and thick with desire.

“Later…but right now-“ he pulls your bottom lip down with his thumb, licking a stripe across your teeth, he continues, “mmm, right now, I need you to take it for me. She can do that f’me right, pretty?”

You nod so hard it almost gives you a headache but the soft chuckle from Fiyero adds to the pleasant buzz as he slides in, gripping your hips as you moan in unison.

You were always tight but after a week of no contact, you were damn near choking his cock as it stretched you out. Your scent — how fucking soft you are — your voice — the way your wetness left messy strings dripping off his cock every time he pulled out— everything was too much. He wouldn’t be able to go slow like this, the sound of your warbled desperate moans ricocheting off his skull and driving him insane.

The first slide in of Fiyero’s cock is always overwhelming. You doesn’t think you’ll ever not be gagging for this, the feel of his filling you up. You bite down on a moan, arching your back further, you need more. The darkly-amused chuckle Fiyero gives just makes your blood run that much hotter. You don’t have time beg him to fuck you stupid before he thrusts, relentless and brutal, fucking into you so good you sob from it. So good, so fucking good, you’re going to feel the ache in you for days but it’s exactly how you need it.

Fiyero’s abs contract, head tipping back at the way you feel, grinding and whining down onto his cock; letting him have you so wet and pliant as he rams into all your spots, trying not to lose himself in the waves of you. Unfortunately, you can’t help it — you feel yourself clench hard around him, hips twitching as he grabs your waist, holding your ass tilted up to hit deeper as he pounds you. Eyes rolling back at the stifling the cry from your throat as his cock bottoms out with every wonderful thrust inside you.

The room fills with obscene sounds: your scream moaning, the slapping of skin on skin, the squelch of your cunt as Fiyero plunges into it. Air can’t come fast enough and you know if you cum now you’ll pass out but you needed this so bad, whining as Fiyero takes two swollen nipples between his fingers rolling them, enjoying the cute way you cried for him.

“You’re gonna cum for me again, aren’t you?”, Fiyero coos down at your tear stained, drooling face, furrowed in pleasure. You try to prove him wrong; that you’re not coming, that you’re not about to make a mess but you give up quick. It just felt too good.

“Mmhm! Yes- cummin’!”, you let out a ear piercing wail as you get closer, almost right there, looking at Fiyero with pretty lidded eyes like he hung the stars in the sky just for you.

“Cum,” he breathes hot in your ear, teeth closing down on the delicate whorl. “Make your mess all over me, baby.”

You cry out against Fiyero, hips humping against his cock, shaking violently, back arching, almost lifting off the bed completely as your orgasm wracks through you, eyes flickering back into your skull. Drool dribbles down your lips between moans; dripping, your cunt gushing around the delicious stretch, sucking Fiyero’s cock in as far as you can.

Fiyero grits his teeth hard, his thrusts growing erratic and messy as he’s hurdled quickly towards his climax, lost in your pull. He cums with a wrecked low moan, burying himself deeper in the wet heat of your cunt, releases as deep inside you as he can. Lowering himself on you in a satisfied heap.

You two stay like that for a while, catching your breath, kissing softer this time- less rushed like you aren’t in a race to get the other pregnant by midnight, basking in the afterglow. He’s heavy like this. Laying completely over you but you love it, closing your eyes as you snuggle into him. He’s like a giant weighted pillow.

Fiyero is the first to move since you won’t be going anywhere for a while, looking down at you tenderly, rubbing the tip of his nose gently against yours, and you smile back tiredly.

“Give me 15 minutes and I’ll be ready to rock your world, pretty boy.” You say it like it’s a promise and Fiyero laughs because he’s always the one to tire you out.

“Cute. Maybe you’re just being cocky because we’re alone?”

“Guess you’ll have find out”, you say through giggles, squirming at the sounds he blows into your neck, smiling with you.

“I can’t wait.”

#wicked fiyero #fiyero tigelaar x reader #fiyero x reader #fiyero tigelaar smut #fiyero smut

391 notes · View notes

loveharlow · 3 months ago

Text

SEVEN [SEASON 2] - 007 (PT 2)

PAIRING ‧₊˚ JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS‧₊˚ [8.5k] based on Netflix’s Outer Banks Season 2 Episode 10

WARNING(S)‧₊˚ swearing, general obx warnings, graphic depictions of injuries/blood, mild violence

NOW PLAYING‧₊˚

A/N‧₊˚ i KNOW y'all hate me but i've literally been through hell and back these past 1-2 months but we are BACK IN BUSINESS XX THEE SEASON 2 FINALE

˗ˏˋ series masterlist ˎˊ˗

“IT’S SO HOT IN HERE…” You groaned, fanning yourself as you slumped against the side of the receptacle. You’d all been enclosed in the space for well over two hours at this point and the exhaustion was starting to settle in…as well as the agitation.

“Nice work, John B.” JJ said sarcastically as you leaned on the blonde's shoulder while he glared at his best friend. “Y’know, these things lock from the outside, right?”

“I was just trying to get us on the boat, JJ…” John B groaned, forehead pressed against the metal wall as he stood limply. “I wasn’t thinking that far ahead.”

“Now we’re stuck in here...like rats.” JJ argued, tone short.

“It’s hot…” Kiara exasperated, stripping off her jacket.

“Okay, JJ, you’re not helping.” Pope dismissed, annoyed as beads of sweat trailed down the sides of his face. He was gripping a random bar, holding on for dear life.

“You don’t have a whole lotta room to talk, right now, Pope.” JJ retorted. “You said you had a plan but what happened to thinking ahead?”

“I find your lack of self-knowledge very disturbing.” Pope shot back through heavy breaths.

“Ohh, okay.” JJ laughed humorlessly, standing from his spot. “Last time I checked-”

“Oh, my God. Shut up!” You and Kiara reprimanded simultaneously — you tugging so hard on JJ’s arm that you managed to get the boy to sit back down as Kie slammed her arm between the two. “Instead of arguing,” You started. “How about we try to find a way out of here?” You offered, mildly agitated yourself.

“We can take the bridge.” JJ offered, shrugging carelessly. You pinched the bridge of your nose in frustration, turning towards your boyfriend stiffly, sighing.

“...What?”

“The bridge. It’s like killing a snake — we go for the head. And I happen to know that there’s an armory on this ship. I’m talking grenades, SMG’s-”

“Killing everyone here is not an option.” You stopped JJ bluntly, looking the blonde in his eyes. You sighed once more, walking away in an attempt to recollect yourself, isolating yourself from the group and wandering into the very back of the shipping container.

“Well, what’re we supposed to do-”

“We can’t do anything until we find a way out of here, JJ.” John B told the boy.

You tuned out the boy’s conversation as your eyes found a beam of light coming from behind a mountain of crates and boxes. The observation stopped you in your tracks, squinting your eyes as your thoughts raced. Without hesitation, you began moving the objects out of your way to get to whatever was shining behind them.

After a few minutes, you finally got to what you were looking for — your eyes going wide. “Guys…” You tried, but your voice went unheard over the bickering of the two boys.

“Guys!” You snapped, eyes on your friends on the other end of the container. Their voices came to a halt, all eyes on you as you used your head to motion them over.

“She’s got somethin’.” JJ mumbled as the four of them walked over to you, now able to see what you were seeing.

“Can we fit through that?” You asked smugly, motioning for the window you’d uncovered.

“Hell yeah.” JJ chuckled, squeezing your arm proudly. “And uh, what about that swiss army knife 'not coming in handy'?” JJ asked sarcastically in John B’s direction, holding his pocket knife in between his fingers — the perfect tool to pry the grate off of the window.

“Just shut up.” JB rolled his eyes as JJ used one of the crates on the ground as a step stool to get high enough to start rooting out the metal grate.

“Okay, sooo…we raid the armory, get weapons, roll back here, and plot the next move?” Pope confirmed with the group as JJ worked, to which everyone nodded tiredly.

“The armory is on the third deck, near the laundry room. Let’s roll.” JJ verified, fingers hooked into the unscrewed grate, ready to pull it off.

“Hold up.” Pope started, looking around at all of you as JJ stopped in his tracks. “I don’t think we should all go out there…” He cringed. “It’s too risky.”

“What?” JJ said incredulously. “How?”

“...I think you should stay here.” JB added, eyes on your boyfriend. “I have Sarah that I’m gonna go after. And Pope has-”

“The cross.” Pope finished for him.

“Yeah…” JJ said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Let’s go get it.”

“Also, if you go out there, there’s a one-hundred percent probability that you’re gonna do something stupid.” John B shrugged.

“Okay, first of all, I think the correct terminology is ‘ballsy’-” JJ tried only to be cut off.

“Okay, get down here-” Pope urged, tugging on the blonde’s arm.

“No. Get off-” JJ whisper-yelled as he snatched his arm away but hopped down off the crate anyway. “Dude, I’m a field player.”

“Shhh.” John B demanded. “Look, if we go out there and we get in a bind, we need somebody to look out for us. That’s what we need-”

JJ scoffed, unbelievably. “Okay, I get it, I get it.” He dismissed, jutting out his bottom lip as he trotted over to you, slinging an arm around your shoulder. “Fine. I’ll stay here. Single out the one who got your asses out of the container, cool.” He said. "I’ll be on B team, ‘s fine.”

“I never said B team.” John B said bluntly, blinking.

“Sorry, are you calling me B team?” You asked, mildly offended as you looked up at the blonde, crossing your arms.

“You’re not B team, baby, of course not. I was just-”

“Did ‘B Team’ not just find our way out? Or am I, like, totally losing it?” You asked rhetorically, looking around the cabin with your hands up in surrender.

“Look, we’re just saying we need people to hang back and hold down the fort.” Pope clarified, hands clasped in front of him.

“Great, fine. It’s fine, I’ll just stay here with my girl.” JJ smiled annoyedly, throwing an arm over your shoulders as your arms returned to their crossed position.

“Oh, now you wanna stay back with B Team?” You sassed, raising your eyebrows.

“Will you please-” JJ tried before being cut off by Kiara.

“Guys.” She said firmly. “Chill. Look, John B and Pope wanna go alone? Fine. I’ll stay here with Y/N and JJ, I’ll babysit.”

“You guys have fun. It’s your funeral, your game. We’ll be in here, on the bench…” JJ taunted, shrugging nonchalantly as he released his hold on you and walked back to the front of the container.

You watched as John B and Pope climbed the crates on the floor up to the opened window, one behind the other as John B moved the metal grate to the side.

“Don’t...get shot?” Kie said, attempting to offer some kind of comfort.

“...Don’t get shot.” Pope reiterated sassily, pulling his lips into a thin line. “That’s…disheartening and scary.”

Kie simply shrugged. “It’s all I got.”

“Okay, let’s go.” John B whispered, poking his head out of the window like a dog. “Pope, grab my feet.” He instructed in a whisper before launching himself out of the window before bothering to make sure the boy in question even had a hold on him.

“Oh, Jesus-” Pope cursed, watching as his friend fell face first out of the window — you and Kie’s jaws going slack. It seemed John B had managed to catch himself, however, considering there was no screaming or cursing as his entire frame seemed to slide the rest of the way out of the window.

Seconds passed before Pope followed suit, carefully sliding himself out of the small opening. You were quick to tip toe up the crates, hearing unknown voices from the outside which prompted you to carefully replace the metal grate, praying it wouldn’t dislodge itself.

Letting the object set itself, you turned to face the two people you remained locked inside with, sighing heavily to yourself when you realized how awkward this would be — even if all parties didn’t realize it.

“...’s just us.” You sighed with a grimace, hopping down off the grates. “Now, we wait.”

NOT EVEN THIRTY MINUTES INTO CAMPING OUT, OR “KEEPING WATCH", THE THREE OF YOU WERE SWEATING BULLETS. Kiara had isolated herself on the complete other side of the container — whether it was to give you and JJ space or avoid you, you weren’t entirely sure. A part of you wondered if you should tell JJ about Kiara’s confession, if that was the right thing to do as a girlfriend. But the other part figured that it wasn’t your place as Kiara’s friend, no matter how rocky of a hill the friendship currently stood on.

“I’ve been thinking,” JJ started after half an hour of silence — you were resting your head in his lap, hands splayed across your stomach as he laid his head back against a stack of boxes and crates. “When all this is over, and we’re just rollin’ in the dough, I’m gonna get a new board.” He concluded, lanky fingers playing in your hair. “I’m gonna deck it out, and I’m gonna go on a surf trip.” He smiled to himself in thought as you stared up at him. “I don't know where,” He shrugged. “But, like, the world’s calling…I don’t know. Name a place.” He requested, blue eyes looking down at you.

You pondered for a moment, fingers tapping on the surface of your stomach before you settled on an answer — eyes meeting his with a small smile. “Spain.”

He beamed, seemingly satisfied with the answer. “Then after Spain?”

“...South America.” You said, pouting your lips in thought. “Or South Africa.” You shrugged with a smirk.

“And then Micronesia, maybe? And then we…just ride.” He sighed dreamily. You couldn’t help the pure admiration blooming in your eyes, unable to unglue them from the boy above you as he got consumed by his own daydream. You liked seeing JJ happy. He deserved it.

“Wherever the wave takes you?” You asked, voice soft and full of adoration.

Your voice seemed to snap him out of his stupor, the blonde looking down at you once more to find your big eyes staring at him like everything you’d ever wanted. Everything he'd ever wanted. “Wherever the waves takes us.” He corrected.

“So, that’s the plan if we were to get a ton of cash? That’s it?” You inquired. “That’s the dream? Surf trip?”

The blonde simply nodded. “Rippin’ jungle break all day long. Bamboo hut, cooking a fish on a fire, and after that, you go back out and hit the waves again.” He smiled once more to himself, dropping his hand to brush his thumb over the curvature of your jaw. “That’s the dream.”

“Sounds perfect.” You cooed, putting one of your hands over his. Subconsciously, you let your head fall to the side, finding Kie’s eyes across the shipping container. Her own sad, brown eyes were glued where you and JJ’s hands were connected — fleeting between his featherlight touch on your jaw and your fingers on top of his. There was an indecipherable look in her eyes, a look that made your stomach turn in the worst ways.

You loved JJ. But you hated hurting Kiara. And you wonder if being in a position like this would ever get any easier.

The sound of tapping and Pope’s voice broke you from your thoughts. “Hey, hey,” He whispered, face nearly pressed against the grate. “Open it.” He instructed in a whisper, Kiara being the first one to get up in order remove the barrier, allowing the boy into the container. You and JJ stood to get closer to the two, watching as Pope climbed through the opening.

“You need help?” Kiara offered her friend.

“I’m good.” He strained out a polite denial of the offer, landing on his feet inside the space.

“I thought Rafe got you guys for sure.” Kie worried, shoving her hands in her back pockets.

“No, we’re chill.” Pope whispered, peeking out of the window once more before letting John B in after him, the brunette struggling a bit to climb back in.

“All right.” You sighed, finishing your mental headcount. “Let’s put the grate back on.” You suggested as JB landed on his feet.

“No, wait.” Pope held out a hand, prompting you to wait a second.

Your eyes furrowed at this. “What?”

“Hold on to it.” Pope instructed, eyes focused on the opening as if he was waiting for something. Or someone.

“No, put it back.” Kie urged, ready to replace the grate. Suddenly, a girl appeared in front of the square opening — a pretty, brown-skinned girl, covered in sweat. Your face immediately contorted into one of confusion upon registering her presence.

“Jesus Christ!” She whisper-shouted, taking in each of you one by one before her eyes landed on John B. “I kill you, John B!” She threatened with her accent, climbing into the shipping container as you all backed up to make room for her.

“Who is this?” Kie whispered, eyes on Pope.

“Just relax, okay?” John B got Kie’s attention on him. “I told you I had a surprise.”

“When did you say that, exactly?” You asked, eyes permanently pinched together as you instinctively backed into JJ for comfort.

“Who is she? What’s going on?” Kiara interrogated, voice becoming something between angry and frantic.

“Hey, hey, hey,” John B coaxed, planting his hands on the girl’s shoulders to stabilize her. “Kie, relax.” He tried, tone lowering as he seemed to calm her. “Remember I told you about the girl we met in the Bahamas that saved us?” He asked, eyes connecting with all of yours.

“Uh…Cleo, yeah?” Kiara answered, earning a nod from John B.

Your eyes went to the girl standing on the makeshift stairs, pointing as you gained her attention with the movement. “That’s you?” You asked.

She offered a simple nod in response, allowing John B to continue talking. “She’s gonna help us.” He told Kie before turning to Cleo herself. “...Right?”

“Next time, ask me.” Cleo reprimanded your friend in a low, annoyed tone. This girl didn’t necessarily give you a bad vibe, but this seemed to be working out in your favors a little too well.

“John B.” You started, eyes on his as you jutted your head towards the back of the container and away from the group. “Can I talk to you?” The boy drew his lips into a thin line as he followed you to the back of the container, leaving the remaining four up front.

“What’s wrong?” Your friend asked impassively.

‘What’s wrong?” You asked incredulously, eyes fleeting quickly between your friends and the unknown girl as you took one step closer. “John B, we don’t know this girl. How do you know she’s actually going to help us?”

He immediately began shaking his head, his hands out in front of you to stop your ranting. “I know, it’s risky.” He assured you. “But that girl saved me and Sarah’s lives in the Bahamas. I know you guys don’t know her but I trust her.” He explained. “Do you trust me?”

You pondered for a moment, chewing the inside of your lip as your foot tapped incessantly on the floor — eyes flying back and forth between Cleo and your friends. “...You know I do.”

John B nodded, a pompous smile on his face. “Okay. So, trust me when I say that you can trust her.” He said simply.

You clenched your jaw as you eyed the girl from feet away as she conversed with your friends.

“...Fine.” You caved, sighing and untensing your body. “But if this is a bad call, it’s your bad call.” You warned before walking away and rejoining the group as JB trailed close behind.

“You seriously grabbed nothing?” JJ said in surprise, the group continuing the conversation you and John B had missed a chunk of. “Not even a single gun?”

John B sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he leaned on some netting hanging from the ceiling. “We tried, okay? I got attacked.”

“This is why I should’ve gone with.” JJ sassed, shrugging from his place beside you.

“Let me get this straight,” Cleo inserted herself into the boys' bickering. “You five, with no weapons, decided you were gonna hijack this tramp steamer on your own?” She asked, unbelievably. “Do you have any idea who these people are?” She asked, something between anger and fear in her eyes. “Eberhimi? If he catch you, he’s gonna kill you.” She warned. “Dead. Cut off ya fingers.” She exaggerated. Or...maybe not.

“Okay…” Kiara started. “What about waiting until we get to port?” She threw out. “At least then, if something goes wrong, we have a place to run.”

“No.” Pope shook his head almost immediately. “No, we can’t do that.”

“Why?” Kiara shrugged in offense.

“Because I’ve run the scenario over one-thousand times in my head, and our best chances are on this ship. There’s fifteen crew members and six of us,-”

“Exactly.” Kiara quipped.

“Three-to-one odds.” Pope said bluntly. “That’s the best it’s gonna get. If we wait ‘til we get there, they’re gonna trap us.”

“We have no chance.” Kiara argued with his logic.

“No, Kie, there’s something else.” John B added. “...Ward’s alive.”

You couldn’t control the way your neck snapped in the boy’s direction, an immediate wave of confusion and pure anger washing over you. “Excuse me, what?” You spat as the rest of your friends stood frozen, waiting for John B to elaborate on just exactly what the hell he meant.

“He’s alive, and he’s on this boat.”

“What?” Kiara finally spoke.

“I fucking knew it.” You scoffed, overcome with disbelief as you turned away from the group, shaking your head.

“You gotta be kidding me.” JJ scoffed.

“...Are you serious?” Pope asked in a whispered tone.

John B just nodded despondently. “It was all a setup.” He shrugged. “Blowing up the boat, his confession to Shoupe? Think about it.” He explained. “That was to clear Rafe’s name. And he does what? Goes to the Druthers. And what’s on the Druthers?”

“Scuba gear.” You answered, voice tight as you turned back around, clicking your teeth.

John B grimaced, tilting his head to the side. “Bingo.”

“So, Ward’s alive, huh?” JJ started, tone indecipherable. “And he has the gold…and the cross…and Sarah.” He listed, walking to the center of the group.

“Thanks for rubbing that in.” Kie retorted, rolling her eyes.

“So, he’s just gonna get away with everything again, huh? Rafe, too?” He provoked, looking at each of you as he spoke.

You immediately shook your head, a look of borderline disgust on your face. “No.” You threw out. “No, hell no.” You reiterated, tone much more firm this time. “We’re not watching this movie again. Okay? Pope? John B? Do you hear me?” You continued. “You said we need the win. You said that Pope.” You reminded the boy, taking a few steps into his space. “And with her?” You pointed to Cleo. “We’re going to the bridge, and we’re gonna take it. Are you with me?”

“...Let’s do it.” John B opted in, eyes focused on his feet as he took your words in.

“I’m with you.” Pope assured, eyes meeting yours. “And I wanna be the one to take that bridge.” He made abundantly clear.

“That’s what I’m talking about.” JJ praised, cupping your neck and pulling you in to place a quick, proud kiss on your cheek.

“He’s gonna take the bridge?” Cleo chuckled, referring to Pope. “He couldn’t even take me.”

“Okay, first of all, I was going easy on you-” Pope tried to defend.

“I went easy on you.” Cleo asserted herself, pointing at the boy.

You all shushed the bickering teens, careful not to be too loud.

“Relax.” John B directed as JJ began talking, eyes on Cleo.

“If you’re really with us, if we use that knife,” He started, referring to the weapon in the girl’s hand. “We can go up into the bridge, hold it up against the captain’s neck, then we go on the intercom and make him tell the rest of the crew to meet up in the forward hull.” He explained his logic. And for once, his plan didn’t sound so bad. “Once they’re in the same place, bam, we lock ‘em in there and take back what’s ours.”

Pope nodded, thinking about JJ’s words. “I like it.” He agreed. “It could work.”

“...Are you with us, then?” JJ pressed Cleo, stepping even closer and making unwavering eye contact with the girl.

“No.” She said without much thought before turning to look at John B, directing her next words at him. “This is stupid.”

“All right, let’s open these things up!” A voice boomed from outside the container, startling all of you as your gazes whipped in the same direction.

“...They’re checking the containers.” Kiara stated the obvious. Cleo wasted no time in climbing the stair of crates and peeking outside the “window” before removing the grate. Your heart raced as you watched her quick movements — was she about to rat you all out?

“”Wait. No, Cleo.” Pope tried.

“What are you doing?” Kiara hissed.

Cleo shushed the pair, carefully placing the large piece of metal on the ground. The five of you watched with anticipation as the girl climbed out of the window, hearing metal clanking from the outside as you presumed the men had begun to open up your crate to search next.

“Piece of shit’s stuck.” One of the men complained. Good, you thought to yourself.

“Macias!” Cleo bellowed as her feet hit the ground, the girl disappearing out of sight for the most part.

“She’s gonna tell them. Shit!” Pope automatically assumed the worst.

“Hold up!” Cleo’s voice boomed from outside as you instinctively covered the opening, also assuming the worst. Until you heard her voice again. “This one’s clear, sir.” She said to the men, the sound of metal clanking from the outside coming to a halt with her words.

“...You sure?”

“Went through it inch by inch. Nothing but tubing and plastics in there.” You all shared smug smiles of amusement. Maybe you could trust her.

“What if the stowaway had been in there?” The guy pressed.

“Well, he wasn’t, so…” She replied. “C’mon, man. We have work to do. Move your bumper, man.” She dismissed the crew member. And it wasn’t long until you heard footsteps coming back your way.

“Okay…” Pope started. “She’s on our side. That’s good.”

“Okay, Pope, you’re up.” JJ patted his friend on the back, watching as Pope removed the metal covering once more, revealing Cleo on the other side as she whistled to signal her return. “We’ll wait for your signal, okay?” Pope nodded before turning to the girl waiting outside for him.

“Come on.” She urged, helping the boy out of the container.

“Thanks for that, by the way.” He showed his gratitude to your new found companion, their voices still close enough to hear. “I don’t know why you did that, but I’m not gonna argue.” He told her. “...Why’d you do that?”

“Not for charity.” Cleo told him honestly. “Just figure I’m better off with you guys than with Eberhimi.”

“Right.”

“And now you guys owe me a cut of that treasure.”

“...That’s fair.”

“All right.” The pair concluded. “How we takin’ over this fort, Chief?”

“...Can I borrow your knife?” Pope asked.

“...I got a better idea.” Cleo denied. “Come on.” And that was the last of the conversation you all could hear before the sound of their footsteps retreating was heard.

ABOUT TEN MINUTES PASSED BEFORE YOU HEARD IT.

“Attention, all passengers, all crew, report to the tween forward hull. That’s an order.” The four of you remaining in the crate, shared looks before putting your ears to walls of the enclosed space. “Repeat. All hands and all passengers report to the tween forward hull immediately.”

There it was — Pope’s signal.

“They did it. They took the bridge.” John B smiled.

“That’s our boy. “JJ applauded, him and John B immediately removing the metal grate for what you hoped to be the last time. “Alright, we split up. Once they’re all in the hull, Y/N and I will lock them inside.”

John B nodded in agreement. “I’ll find Sarah and get the lifeboat.” He informed.

“What about me?” Kie asked, eyes wide as they went between John B and the pair of you and JJ.

“...Come with us.” You told the girl, your eyes locked with hers. It was a silent gesture, a speechless truce — your way of letting her know that you were both okay. She nodded, a tiny smile on her lips.

“Alright.” She took the offer.

You nodded in her direction before looking to John B. “We’ll load the cross, meet you, and get outta here.”

“Okay.” JJ gathered you all’s attention. “Let’s roll.” He led the group of you, leaning out of the window and using the barrels below to help himself out. Once he was on the ground, he turned around — hands outstretched to help you out, assistance that you gratefully accepted. John B followed after you and Kiara was the last one out.

The four of you wasted no time in bolting in the direction that Pope and Cleo had gone previously, following JJ as he led you all to the forward hull. John B had already managed to separate himself as soon as you entered the ship, quick on the start of his search to find Sarah.

You, Kie, and JJ ducked behind the walls on either side of the door when you reached the hull. You and Kie on one side, JJ on the other. You heard voices grow as the room filled with passengers and crew members.

“Hey, what the hell is this all about?”

“This doesn’t have anything to do with that stowaway, does it?”

“Guess we’ll find out.”

“Psst.” JJ aimed to get your attention - your wide, adrenaline filled eyes going to him as you tried not to move a muscle. “How many?” He whispered. You and Kie took a quick glance into the hull, doing a quick count before turning back to your boyfriend as you both held up three fingers simultaneously.

The three of you peeked, watching as the room filled with person after person.

“What’s goin’ on, man?”

“I don’t know. Waitin’ on the captain.”

“He’s supposed to be down here.”

Over the mess of voices, one in particular caught your attention.

“Where are we going? Where’s dad?” Wheezie? The girl’s meek voice caused you to peek further into the door, watching as the girl in question followed Rose into the hull, both of them being followed by Rafe.

“I don’t know, Wheezie.” Rose sighed.

You watched them approach the final door to the hull, hiding back behind it in order to not be seen or spotted as Rafe paused in his tracks, whipping his head to the side, just nearly missing the sight of you three. Once you heard footsteps, you assumed he’d gone inside — taking the risk and peeking to find the family of three completely out of sight.

Turning to face JJ, you spoke as low as you could. “That’s all of the crew.”

But he shook his head. “Except Ward.” The blonde reminded you. “We need Ward.”

As much as you agreed, closing the door now was your best bet before the crew got suspicious. “We can’t wait.”

JJ seemed to sit on the thought for a moment before caving in, motioning for you and Kie to help him close the door. With no hesitation, the three of you ran inside and used all of your collective strength to push the door shut, the people inside immediately reacting to the creaking of the metal door.

“Hey!”

“Oh my God!”

Crew members began to throw themselves against the door in an attempt to keep it open and overtake you three, but you had already gained the upper hand. For the most part. Once the door was shut, you and Kie held it down while JJ locked it.

You all left out breaths of relief until you heard one of the voices on the other side.

“Check the other door!”

You, Kiara, and JJ all shared mutual looks of shock before jumping into action, running around to the other side of the hull, almost tripping over one another in the process.

JJ himself took the lead, managing to shut and lock the door completely by himself before the men inside even had the chance. You all looked at one another, sharing the same victorious smile before going off and taking the ladder down into a lower part of the ship where the cross was being held.

“Time to jack this loot.” JJ clapped his hands together and rubbed them together in true klepto fashion, being the first one down the ladder. You followed his lead, watching as he stopped in front of a cloth-covered coffin. JJ didn’t wait a second before uncovering the box, revealing the cross you all had lost. “There she is.” He cooed, staring down at the golden masterpiece.

Your eyes locked with his, the two of you sharing a look. “Surf trip?” He asked lovingly.

“Surf trip.” You winked, the two of you carrying out a complex handshake.

However, the three of you paused — hearts jumping out of your chests when the ceiling opened up. But your fear quickly turned to relief when you made out Pope’s frame standing above you, smiles breaking out on your faces.

The pure relief in your chests prompted a chorus of laughs to ring out, eyes on the boy standing above you with unadulterated determination on his face. You all started cheering, forgetting how important discreteness was to this plan.

“Whoo!”

“Whooooo!”

“That’s what I’m talkin’ about! Let’s go!”

You all applauded how well the plan was going. For the first time, it felt like something was going right. In your favor. Maybe the Kooks didn’t always win. Maybe the Pogues didn’t always lose.

“The time where people do shit to us and we just sit back and take it is over.” Pope declared, standing above you all like a public figure.

“That’s my boy!” JJ praised, punching the air. “Let’s get this done, baby!”

You three watched as Pope climbed his way to the top of the crane, seating himself and watching as the machine came to life. The trio of you got the cross ready for pick up and drop off, wrapping a loop around the cross with thick fabric, securing it.

“Take her up, Pope!” JJ shouted from below once the large piece of treasure was ready to go. You all watched in awe as Pope used the heavy machinery to lift the gold, watching it sway violently from side to side on its way up.

“Slow, Pope!” You hollered, watching the cross nearly hit the sides of the ship. “Slowly!”

“Bring her in the middle!” Kie instructed, using the short rope JJ had tied around the bottom to help Pope guide it. Pope did as he was told, but way too fast, sending the cross flying to the middle of the opening in the ceiling, taking JJ with it.

“No! Too far!” You shouted, chasing the cross while trying to lend JJ a hand at the same time. “Too far, Pope!”

“Sorry!” The boy shouted from the crane operating cubicle. “My bad!”

Once JJ was on his feet, you, him, and Kiara helped to guide the cross to the actual middle.

“Hey!” A fifth voice chimed in, your heads shooting in the direction of it — watching as Cleo ran around the corner, standing above you all where Pope was just moments before. “Send it up, Pope. You got it!”

“Did John B get the lifeboat?!” Pope questioned from his place above you all.

“I don’t see him!” Cleo replied back loudly, shrugging confusedly.

“Where’s Sarah?!” Pope questioned further as the three of you keeping the cross stabilized, the boy earning no response from the girl as she waved a hand to dismiss his interrogation.

“Hurry!” Cleo commanded. The three of you watched as Pope lifted the cross, the piece of treasure getting higher and higher in the sky. “Wow…” Cleo's eyes twinkled at the sight of the cross, this being her first time seeing the aforementioned treasure. “Send it this way.” She guided Pope.

Once those two had the cross secured to the crane — You, JJ, and Kie’s job here was done. The three of you released your hold on the cross, letting the pair of them do their task without intervention. You led your boyfriend and best friend around the corner, at the forefront of the three person line, now on your second task to meet John B.

“Clear?” Kie asked, peeking behind you. You eyed the scene left and right before nodding at her over your shoulder.

“Clear.” You assured, tip-toeing around the corner and onto the upper deck. You swiftly walked around, looking for where John B and Sarah should've been with the lifeboat. “I don’t see him.” Rounding another corner, you looked around before your heart dropped when Eberhimi, the captain of the ship, descended the stairs.

You and the man made eye contact — challenging and unwavering as he unsheathed a knife. “Of course.” He gritted through his teeth, brows set into a harsh line. “There’s more of you.” He spat, pointing the knife at the three of you. “Get down on your knees.” He ordered.

JJ was the first to speak, drawing his lips into a thin line as his head jutted to the side. “I don’t swing that way. Sorry, bro.”

“In front of my boyfriend?” You couldn’t help but chuckle — being somewhat acclimated to situations like this. “Wow, you’re bold.” You shook your head in pity.

“Is this a joke to you?” Eberhimi squinted, looking at the group of you like you were out of your minds. “Get on your damn knees!”

“Yeah, not gonna happen.” Kiara denied as the captain’s patience came to an end, the man charging at you all, swinging his machete at all three of you as you managed to collectively dodge the attack. He swung again, to the side this time. An attack that didn’t land, again.

JJ took the opportunity to pin the captain’s arm against the wall, rendering the older man somewhat defenseless. You and Kiara used your collective strength to replace JJ’s hold on Eberhimi’s arm, allowing your boyfriend to clock the man in his cheek. “Hit him, Y/N!” JJ directed, you giving Kiara the task of keeping the man pinned as you opened the fusebox closest to his face, slamming the door against his features. “Where’s John B?” JJ asked breathlessly, frustration growing with the aforementioned boy's absence.

“John B!” You and Kiara screamed, looking over the edge of the boat for any sign of the lifeboat. “Bree!” You continued screaming, looking back to find JJ engaged in another brawl with the captain. JJ had the upper hand for a moment — dodging hit after hit until Eberhimi managed to get him one good time in the chest, sending your boyfriend flying backwards, watching as he hit his head against the side of the ship.

“Hey!” You jumped into action, running towards the two men. “Don’t fucking touch him!” You warned, running at the man whose attention jumped to you at the sound of your rapid footsteps coming in his direction. He swung at you but you managed to dodge the swing, just narrowly missing being cut with the tip of his blade but now you were disoriented, unaware that your back was to the older man now.

“Y/N!” JJ and Kie called your name at once. You tried to stabilize yourself, turning in the direction of their voices only to come face to face with the man once more, but this time you weren’t as lucky. As you made another attempt to dodge his swing, you failed — a burning sensation blooming down the length of your thigh as his machete made a long, deep incision from the top of your thigh to right above your knee.

“Y/N!” They shouted once more, watching you get semi-mutilated as you let out a heart-wrenching screech, falling to the floor as your own blood started to pool underneath your injured leg. All you could do was sit, dry-heave, and watch as JJ quickly regained full consciousness, getting up and launching himself on to the man's back.

He managed to get the man into a chokehold and away from you, until he was elbowed in the ribs and hit under his chin — rendering the blonde unconscious and sending him flying overboard and into the water. It was like your entire world was moving in slow motion as you watched JJ fall into the water, your heart dropping to your stomach as your only focus became him.

You screamed his name as he fell, you were sure of it. But you couldn’t hear your own voice in your ears. Somewhere in your adrenaline-driven haste, the pain in your leg seemed to dissipate — pushing yourself up and onto your feet. You angry eyes found Eberhimi, limping swiftly in the man’s direction before he had time to register your movements, giving him no time to defend himself as you used your good leg to kick him savagely in the stomach before punching him mercilessly in the face, sending the man to the ground with strength you didn’t know you had.

You immediately turned your sights to Kiara, who stood to the side, shocked. “Where is he?” You asked through heavy breaths, eyes scanning the waters below for any sign of your blonde.

“Y/N, you need to-”

“Where is he?!” You repeated yourself, much less patience in your tone this time. You didn’t mean to yell at her, but JJ needed help. Why couldn’t she see that? Eyes still trained overboard, you spotted a figure floating face down, motionless. “JJ!”

You didn’t think twice — wincing as you lifted yourself up onto the edge of the boat, paying no mind to your own potentially fatal injury before jumping off into the water where you watched your boyfriend’s unconscious body float, hearing Kiara scream your name before your body hit the water.

You were under for seconds before you were able to fight your way to the top, looking around to find JJ floating limply next to you. “J…” You breathed out, struggling to swim to him — the saltwater eliciting the pain receptors in your thigh to work in tandem with your brain again.

Despite the insufferable burning sensation in your leg, you continued to swim to JJ — scooping him up by his arms when you reached him, now able to flip him onto his back. His eyes were closed and his chest wasn’t moving, which sent you into a panic of your own. “JJ.” You tried, attempting to shake him but it was hard with the water restricting your movements.

It was also becoming increasingly harder to keep you both afloat by yourself. “JJ, come on!” You groaned, maneuvering so you could use one hand to lightly slap his face. “J, please. Please, don’t do this to me.” You begged, letting the tears you didn’t know were forming fall down your already wet face.

Holding you both afloat was getting harder by the minute and you were sure only one of your legs was working to tread any water. An overwhelming sense of fear started to overtake you every time your chin dipped below the surface of the waves, wondering how long you could do this. “JJ, please.” You cried, sniffling. “You’re scaring me. I need you, okay?” You breathed. “I can’t lose anyone else.” You whined, crying harder by the second. “I can’t lose you.”

Suddenly, there was a splash in the water next to you, Kiara’s head popping up within seconds as she shook the water from her hair. A part of you wanted to ask her what took her so long but the other was grateful that she came down at all.

“Let him go.” She instructed breathlessly. You looked at her like she was insane, paying no mind to your own vision that was starting to spot. You were losing too much blood, you realized. But you had bigger things to worry about it. You’d be fine, you told yourself.

“No.” You shook your head, holding JJ closer to you. “No, I need to keep him above the water-"

“He’ll float.” Kiara told you, treading water. “He’s already unconscious so he won’t breathe any more water in. But if you try and hold him up, you’ll drown.”

“I’ll be fine-”

“Y/N, you have to-”

“No, I don’t!” You argued, vision going blurry as you shook your head to re-stabilize it. “I’ll keep him up until we find the others.” You told her. “I’m not letting him go.” Kiara seemed to accept her defeat, opting to share some of the burden of JJ’s weight — moving to hold up the other half of his body.

“Where’s John B?” You asked, voice slipping under.

“I - I don’t know.” Kiara sighed. “John B!” She screamed, looking around as you continuously blinked to try and keep yourself awake. “John B! Help!”

You figured all hope was lost until the sound of a boat engine rounded the corner, four blurry figures coming into view.

“There they are!”

“JJ!”

“Kie!”

“Y/N!”

They all called your names as they got closer, the boat slowing next to you.

“No, no, no, no no…” John B repeated, taking notice of JJ’s unconsciousness.

“Why is she so pale?” Pope asked, referring to the way your skin had lost all pigment and undertones, leaving you looking like a ghost. "How long have you guys been in the water? Is she hypothermic?"

“Help me get them up.” Kiara demanded, releasing JJ to your friends as they dragged him onto the boat, laying him in the center before they began to help you up, not seconds passing before they took notice of the large, deep gash on your thigh.

“What the hell happened?” John B asked, realizing both of his long-time friends looked like they were on the verge of death.

Once all three of you were on the lifeboat with the others, you immediately pushed your way through your friends to reach JJ, despite their protests that you should sit back down. JJ was flipped onto his back, head elevated against the boat.

You began to tap the side of his face, trying to get a response once more before deciding to go further, clasping your hands together and pushing down on the center of his chest.

“Here, let me-” Someone offered, you didn’t know who.

“No.” You said quickly. “No, I got it.” You assured weakly, but you could feel yourself slipping away, having to recenter yourself every few seconds.

“I don’t think you do…” They tried once more, but you ignored them — involuntary or voluntary, you weren’t exactly sure. You continued pushing down on JJ’s chest until you saw droplets of water dribbling down his bottom lip, the sight only motivating to push harder until he started coughing. Only then, did you allow your movements to stop as your boyfriend coughed up whatever liquid had leaked into his lungs from the fall.

A small, weak smile crawled onto your face at the sight, the two of you locking eyes for the briefest of moments. “Hey.” You said softly, leaning back as you finally let yourself breathe. The boy looked at you tenderly before rasping out a response.

“...’Sup?” He said, trying to sound cool, sending you a sly smile before it morphed into concern. “Why are you so pale?” He asked, a hand coming up to caress your cheek.

You shook your head slowly, your eyes closing themselves as you spoke. “...’M fine.” JJ’s eyes went to his friends for answers, realizing you were losing it. Then he remembered — his eyes immediately shooting down to your thigh, the blood still leaking like a waterfall, if not faster.

“Shit.” He cursed, sitting up straighter and pulling you into him. “Help her.” He ordered, holding you tight. “Help her!” Was the last thing you heard before everything went completely black.

THE NEXT TIME YOU OPENED YOUR EYES, you were greeted with the heat and glare of the sun and a dull ache in your right thigh, grains of sand pressing into the back of your legs. Blinking your eyes open carefully, acclamating them to the rays of light, you watched as Pope, JJ, and John B drug the lifeboat to shore. A quick glance down at your thigh had you realizing someone had done their best to construct a makeshift tourniquet to help you out.

Where you were? You had no idea. But you felt better. Somewhat, anyway.

You watched as the three boys plopped the floatation device on the sand, taking deep breaths from the labor before approaching the four of you girls sitting in the shade.

You didn’t miss the way JJ’s eyes immediately locked with yours, a grateful smile on his pink lips at the sight of you awake. He took a seat next to you, pulling you into his side and planting a kiss on your temple as you cuddled into his embrace.

“Good to see your pretty eyes again.” He uttered, voice oddly soft and gentle.

You playfully shrugged him, not enough to disrupt his hold on you as you let out a light chuckle. “Get away from me, you flirt.” You joked before returning to a somewhat serious demeanor. “Are you okay?”

The blonde shrugged, sighing and leaning against the tree you perched up against. “Still a lil dizzy. But I’m alright.” He said simply. “How ‘bout you, princess? How’s your leg?”

You nodded, sighing relief. “Much better.” You told your boyfriend. “Was this you?” You asked, referring to the tourniquet that seemed to be constructed from someone’s sock.

He simply shook his head, jutting out his bottom lip as he motioned his head in Cleo’s direction. “It was all her.” He smiled gratefully. “I think we can trust her. She’s saved three of our lives so far.”

"Three?" You pondered. "Wouldn't it be four?"

"Nah." He shook his head. "You saved my life. That was all you." The praise made your cheeks go hot, burying half of your face into his chest.

Your eyes found Cleo across the sand, locking eyes with the girl. You sent a sweet smile her way, mouthing a ‘thank you’ her way. The girl simply winked and nodded at you. You had a feeling she’d fit in just fine, if she wanted to stay, that is.

“Might not want to thank me just yet, darlin’.” The girl warned, a sly smile on her face as she leaned against her arms. “We still gotta cauterize that thing.” She pointed to your thigh. “And you can’t be asleep for it.”

A look of terror made its way onto your face as you looked up at JJ, a small action that made the group laugh, a miniscule moment of lightheartedness after the unspoken loss.

“Okay,” JJ came down from his laughter. “Anybody know where we’re at?”

“Deserted beach.” Pope shrugged, taking a seat next to Cleo. “Unknown island.”

“Alright, I’ll take that as a no.” JJ replied to Pope stating the obvious. “Plan A, huh, Pope? That went well.” JJ sassed, to which you lightly elbowed him in the side.

“This is the lowest we can go.” Pope said, sitting with his hands in his lap, hunched over. “We literally have nothing else to lose.” He laughed, humorlessly. “The cross, gone.”

“The gold, gone.” Sarah added calmly, yet sadly.

“Seriously, if we had a nickel for every time we got beat up, I’d say we’re at a dollar-fifty.” JJ threw out.

Kie shrugged, looking up at the fading cloud as the sunset. “That’s more than I got on me…”

“That somehow doesn’t make me feel better.” Sarah agreed.

“Hey, I’ve got a large coin slot on my leg if anyone wants to make donations.” You joked, earning head shakes at your morbid humor.

“Yeah,” John B finally spoke up. “You’re all right. But, I mean, we’ve…” He shrugged, eyeing all of you. “We’ve had some good stuff happen, right?”

Pope scoffed. “Name something.”

“Um…” John B pondered, looking at the leaves of the trees. “Uh, the boiler room?” He concluded optimistically. Everyone just stared at him. “What? If the boiler didn’t explode, I wouldn’t have gotten away from Rafe. I couldn’t have gotten the Zodiac and gotten us out here.” He laid out a timeline of cause-and-effect.

“That wasn’t luck.” Cleo started, a knowing smile on her sun kissed face. “That thing was gonna blow the second I stopped feedin’ it.”

“Stealin’ my thunder, Cleo…” John B said lowly.

“Sorry.” The girl shrugged shortly.

“Okay, Pope,” Your friend started again. “You’re related to Denmark Tanny.” He reminded, all of you making faces of agreement at this statement. “That’s crazy-”

“And I lost all his inheritance.” Pope said frustratedly, looking JB in the eyes.

“...You know what?” John B stood from the log he was perched on. “Guys, this is it. This is the Pogue life.” He dreamed, walking closer to the shore. “We are in the Caribbean. It’s our own little slice of paradise. With my best friends, with my family…” He tried to reel you all in. “I don’t know. I wouldn’t wanna do it with anyone else.” He said, eyes mainly on Sarah. “Look, and while you guys were complaining about every little thing…” He trailed, walking over to you and JJ and kneeling in front of you both. “JJ?”

“Hm?” The blonde holding you hummed in response.

John B simply pointed behind himself and smiled, raising an eyebrow. “I was looking at those burly lefts.”

JJ eyed the water that his best friend was pointing to, trying to hide the smile on his features. “There’s some slabs out there, yeah.”

“Just a few?” John B poked, diverting his attention to someone else. “Kie, you see that? I know you wanna get out there.” He continued taunting.

“No boards.” The girl rolled her eyes, a small smirk on her features.

“Well, we can…bodysurf ‘til we make some boards.”

She sighed, leaning back. “Lame.”

“Pope?” JB moved his attention once more. “Come on, man.”

“...They do look pretty tasty.” Pope admitted, still trying to hold onto his self-pity.

“Oh, yes, they do.” The brunette smiled.

“There’s nobody around.” Pope observed with squinted eyes. “We could squat here for a bit. Kind of belongs to us now, huh?”

“You got a point.” You added, breaking your silence.

“Six-way split?” Pope inquired, doing a handshake with John B.

“Poguelandia.” JJ started in a posh accent, smiles breaking out on all of your faces as your boyfriend gently removed himself from your side and repositioned you comfortably against the tree before standing to his full height.

“Oh boy.” John B groaned facetiously.

“I claim thee Poguelandia.” He continued, leaning his arm against a tree with his swiss army knife in hand. “I like the ring of it.” He said, voice returning to normal. “I’m gonna make a flag, it’s gonna have a chicken on it. With a coconut bra, smokin’ a J...in Crocs.” He described, eliciting small laughs from everyone as they envisioned his soon-to-be work of art.

“I could use a J.” Kiara added.

“As long as you're sharing.” You joked with the girl. "Can't turn down the injured girl. Puff puff pass."

“Can we vote on this?” Sarah smiled.

“Shall we get to work?” Pope offered, talking mainly to JB who was right next to him.

“...Let’s get to work.” He fist-bumped his friend. “Let’s start working on provisions. Set up shop.” They planned, walking into the thick of the trees.

“Going full pogue?” JJ asked you, offering a hand to help you up as the others stood.

You smiled, rolling your eyes at him lovingly. “Going full pogue.” You joined, voice strained as you got up, putting as little weight on your leg as possible. The seven of you walked away from where you’d been camped out, leaving your first landmark behind with an ‘X’ to mark the spot, in the shape of ‘P4L’ carved into another tree.

Whatever happened back at home, or would happen, in Kildare, it worried you. You didn’t know what was going on or what would happen days from now, weeks…Months. But it was out of your control. And you weren't sure whether you hated that or loved it. Was “Poguelandia” a final moment of rest or the first step towards you and your friends retribution?

As you walked, you suddenly remembered a quote John B told you that he got from his dad. It was from Euripides…

“The ocean washes away all the evil men do.”

…But you weren’t sure if that was necessarily true. Maybe, the ocean doesn’t truly “wash away” anything. If anything, the ocean makes you remember.

next chapter >

feedback is appreciated! thanks for reading.

SVN Taglist; @esquivelbianca @fallingwallsh @calmoistorm @i-love-ptv @rafxcameronss @ldrvinyl @purplerose291 @heartsforandrewgarfield @coolgirl458 @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @jujubeaz @ellobruv-blog @libertyybellls @c4ttheart @ihe4rttwd @redhead1180 @ditzyzombiesblog @spideysimpossiblegirll @sex-me-stiles @honeyiti @rafedrewandjjs @highformaybank @broidfk609 @sophiahristov @boo22sstuff @yourmumstoy @belle101200 @maybankskiss @starrsea @avengersgirllorianna @sekidekiboombeki @wearemadeofstardust0 @supercxnt @ifilwtmfc @maybankslover @walkinginthegalaxy @rivaiken @liability28 @highformaybank @margo-lalam @cigaretteshoney-blog @ucannotcompare @kazunish @ilovemenwithlonghairr @obsimellon @rosesinbloom18 @drewswifeeee @zayndrider @multisection @grace-928 @sunndroppp @rafeysworldim19 @mirophobic

(striked means i am unable to tag you, please check your settings to see if you have mentions restricted or disabled xo)

©loveharlow.

358 notes · View notes

missnxthingg · 3 months ago

Text

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄, 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃 - 𝑆𝐼𝑋

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 - Lando Norris x Single Mom!Reader (Best friends to lovers) 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 - Lando and Y/N have always been the best of friends, always there for each other through thick and thin. After years of sharing the paddock and building their own silly little family, both of them just can't hold their feelings inside anymore, even though they're are both afraid it would ruin their friendship. So who'll take the first step? 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒 - 7.7 K | 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 - Swearing (just a little bit) and whole lotta fluffy 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 -We finally arrived to the final chapter. I want to thank every single one of you who adored and interacted with my story. Also, I wanna thank you for being patient with the wait for the last chapter. I hope you enjoy this one and I hope to see you in my other stories! My ask box and DMs are always opened if you want to chat.

smau version | series masterlist | main masterlist | taglist

“Honey, I’m home”, Y/N called once she entered her flat after a long day of work and a flight. She had just flown from England to Monaco, to come home to her boyfriend and her daughter, to whom she had been away for days.

It was a common occurrence at the moment, those quick flights from Monte Carlo to Woking for an MTC day. A couple of months ago, she and Olivia have moved to Monaco to stay closer to Lando after he asked them to move in with him. It was a big step on their relationship, but one they were very happy to take. While they were still adjusting to their new life, with Ollie’s new school and Y/N home officing for most of the off-race weeks, having to fly to England on very specific days, Lando was making sure everything was properly in place for them as they were making progress.

It was all working just fine, under Y/N’s eyes. Him keeping things in order while she was gone, without having to worry if her daughter was being taken good care of. That’s why she was surprised to come home to find him crying alone in the living room.

“What’s wrong?”, Y/N frowned, already thinking maybe something bad had happened. “Where’s Ollie? Is everything alright?”

“Everything’s fine. She’s sleeping in her room”, he reassured with a chuckle, taking a deep breath before continuing. “It’s just… she called me daddy today”.

Y/N gasped in surprise and Lando opened the biggest smile at her. Silently, she found a place to sit next to her boyfriend, and they laced their arms together. Carefully, she placed her head on his shoulder, and they sat in silence for a second.

“How did it happen?”

“I picked her up from school, and we were talking about what she had learned today”, he started. “And she said her new teacher was talking about family members and their functions. But Ollie said that uncle didn’t really fit me, and that I fitted more the ‘dad’ description. Then tonight, before I tucked her in bed, she said: ‘Good night, daddy. I love you’. I was a mess the second after”.

“Oh, baby, that’s a good thing”, she smiled at him as she cleaned off some of the tears that were falling from his eyes. “I know you always cared about her as a daughter, and now she finally sees everything you have done for her”.

On the past few months, ever since he owned up to his words, everything Lando did was to take care of Olivia. Ever since they decided to move in together to a whole different country, he made sure she was comfortable enough to leave London for once. Then, when she said she would miss her grandparents, he found a place in Monte Carlo so they could live close by, after they agreed of moving as well. And just to make her a little happier, he decorated her bedroom the way she wanted, with flowers and teddy bears, and racing cars, of course.

It was impossible for Olivia not to see him as a father. He would move mountains and do anything to see her smile. He would be there for every mundane or big moments of her life. So of course the concept of uncle wasn’t fitting for him. Lando did anything a dad would do for her, and now he was finally being recognized as one.

Well, it's been a long time since he has been in that position for Ollie. After all, Y/N and Lando have been officially together for an entire year now, meaning that it's been an entire year of him dedicating all his time to being a father to her. It was only a matter of time before she started calling him ‘daddy’ as well.

“I think maybe we should move forward with the thing we have been talking about lately”, Y/N said, making Lando’s eyes soften even more.

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely”, she smiled at him. “I think this is Ollie telling us that you are her father, and that it's time to make things legally official for all of us”.

Ever since they decided to move in together, take more steps into their relationship, Lando and Y/N have been talking about their plans for the future, including getting married and maybe having children of their own. But she suggested something that sparkled his eyes: adopting Olivia. Y/N knew the biological father would give anything to stop helping her financially, and that her daughter had someone who truly loved her like his own, to the point where she wanted him to legally have the right to take care of her if – God forbid – something happened.

It was very special for Lando, because he was finally becoming a real father. On the past year, he's been slowly learning how to be one, carefully taking every step with Y/N and Ollie, to make sure he was going in the right direction. Adopting her was a reassurance that he was doing the right thing; and that the person he loved the most in the world was trusting him enough to take care of her daughter.

“It's finally happening, right? We're finally building a family together”, he commented, sniffing on his own tears. “God, this is everything I ever wished for. Having a family with you is so special to me. I can’t believe this is finally happening”.

“Me neither”, she chuckled, her eyes brimming with tears. “I've prayed for years to find someone that would love and take care of me and my daughter. And now we finally get to see that the right person was always right in front of us”.

“Remember when we used to talk about my future kids, and I'd say you'd be the best godmother in the world? I used to think like… ‘Fuck, I love her too much to only have her just as an aunt’. I’ve loved you since the start, and now all my wishes are coming true”, he pressed a kiss on top of her head and pulled her closer for a hug.

“I wanted all of that with you too”, she admitted. “I remember you going on and on about me being a godmother, but I used to get so angry inside, because I actually wanted to be the mother of your children”.

“Soon, maybe, we can have more than one menace running around the house”, Lando assured, leaning back to look her in the eyes. “I love you. And I’m getting the best lawyer money can buy tomorrow to get things started”.

“I love you too, daddy”, she joked, pulling him for another kiss. “I think a little Norris around the house would be nice. We still have three extra rooms to fill”.

“Three babies?”, Lando arched his brows, making Y/N crack in laughter.

“Maybe we can leave one of the rooms as a spare bedroom, my love”, she suggested, making him laugh as well. “But maybe two more, what do you think?”

“Two more sounds like a dream”, he smiled. “Wanna get this started already?”

“I’m sorry, daddy, but I just came from a very busy day at the MTC and a two-hour flight”, she groaned. “I need a hot bath, food and my bed”.

“Go get your bath prepared, I’ll make you some pasta in the meanwhile”.

The next day, Lando started working with a lawyer for the adoption papers. He was beyond the moon that Olivia was officially going to be his daughter. Almost one year later and it still felt surreal that he's creating a family with Y/N. They get to travel all over the world, taste the victory and the glory of another good season, and still get home to their perfect little family. Life couldn’t get any better than this.

“I just wanted to make sure you’re okay with that”, Lando said to Ollie, right after he sat down with her and Y/N so they could explain the process they were about to go through.

“Mummy, what is adoption?”

“Adoption is a process to make Lando legally and officially become your father, so he can take responsibility for you and properly take care of you”.

“Does that mean you’re not my daddy now?”, she pouted, turning to Lando with worried eyes, and he immediately melted at her response.

“Of course I am your daddy, my love. It’s just something that we have to do so if something happens, I have the right to take care of you properly”, he said. “So no one can take me away from you, ever”

Ollie smiled at his response and earned a big kiss on the cheek, that made her giggle with the contact. She leaned into Lando’s embrace and sighed.

“Okay, I like it”, she agreed, making Lando smile. She might be just a little girl, with a lot to learn from now on, but she never fails to make Lando smile with her smartness.

He felt so lucky to finally get to be the dad she never had. Of course, the adoption process was long and difficult, but it helped a lot that her biological father didn't think twice before signing the parental rights away, thinking there was no better way to stop paying Y/N monthly to raise the kid he had no interest in raising. But the process takes good six months to get done, with tons of interviews between the family and background checks to understand the kid's family environment

While it was hard to get through the process, Lando was sure that he could do this. Y/N had never seen Olivia pampered with so much love in the last five years since she was born. On the last months settling in their new Monaco life, he made sure he owned up to being the best dad in the world; taking Ollie for walks around the city and drives on his amazing cars; getting her to school and back home every day when he was home, and making sure the mundane things became so much more fun for both of them.

Y/N was sure he was going to be the best dad in the whole world when they decided to grow the family. Because that's what he's always been for Olivia, and that’s what he's going to be like with their future kids.

When Lando finally signed the adoption papers, he never felt happier in his life. Surely, finally getting the girl of his dreams and winning a world championship is good, but nothing ever makes him more happy than officially calling Olivia his daughter.

“I have to say, Mr Norris, after hearing the conversation our therapist had with Olivia, I had no doubt on letting you adopt her. You have a very beautiful story and you deserve this role in her life”, the judge who took care of the process said to him after they signed the papers. “She gushed about you through the whole interview, about how you were the best dad in the world and that you took very good care of her”.

“Well, I try my best”, he smiled shyly at the man. “I’ve loved Olivia’s mum since before she was even in the picture, and I've been here since her first breath. Helping Ollie grow into the beautiful woman she's yet to be will be the best thing that could ever happen to me”.

“I'm sure you're doing great in this task”, the judge said. “Now go enjoy your daughter”.

“Thank you, sir. I will”

Y/N surprised Lando with a big party in their London house to celebrate this big achievement. When he came home with the signed papers, he found out that she filled the house with all of their family and friends for a nice afternoon together. She and Olivia decorated the place with colourful flowers and baked a cake that said ‘Super Dad’, to make it even more especial. Ollie even got a brand new dress for the occasion, to which she ditched for her good old McLaren shirt with her brand new last name in the back.

Lando was very surprised and emotional to see everyone he cared about gathered to celebrate them as a couple. But the tears only dared to spill when Olivia rushed to his arms with a huge bouquet of flowers, just like the ones he always brings home for her and Y/N all the time.

“These are for you, daddy”, she giggled between his arms, and he felt so warm with the gesture.

“Oh, baby, thank you so much”, he ran his hand through her hair and pulled her for a kiss on the forehead. “I can’t believe you're finally my daughter”.

“We came a long way, daddy”, Y/N lowered herself to give them both a hug and earned a kiss herself on the forehead. “Now we enjoy it”.

“I love you”, he mumbled, closing the gap between them in a sweet kiss. “I'm so grateful for our family”.

“I love you too”.

“Can we all join this big hug?”, Cisca asked from behind them, and Lando immediately shot up to hug his mother. “Oh, there’s nothing better than this. I’m so proud of you, my boy”.

“Thank you, mom”, he smiled, buried between her embrace. Lando looked back and saw his father now holding Olivia in his arms. Y/N was standing right behind them, with a hand on her father-in-law’s shoulder. “And thank you both for being here. It means a lot to me”.

“We’ll always be here for you”.

Having everyone he cared about there for him was everything for Lando. He got to have a good laugh with his family and friends, while he could get himself away from his daughter. Olivia sat next to him through the whole day and eventually found his hold to cuddle after a full day. His heart was full of love from every nice word he heard from the people he loved the most.

“I can’t believe that after all these years, you finally got what you wanted”, Max chuckled as they talked over drinks. “Now I get the favourite uncle position”.

“Always, uncle Max”, Ollie giggled, making Lando’s brother, Oliver, frown at her.

“We share a name, and he’s your favourite uncle?”, Oliver asked, making Olivia giggle. “I’m gonna need lots of kisses and hugs to forgive you”.

“Sorry, uncle Ollie”, she said, making Lando laugh. Earlier, he saw his daughter playing with his nieces, and it made everything so real. They were all a big and pretty family, like he always wished for.

It made him very emotional. Lando isn’t one to show his emotions all the time, but Y/N taught him that being vulnerable around the people you love shouldn’t be a bad thing. And telling them how much they mean to you is always a good thing. So, he decided to make them a little speech.

“I want to thank everyone who came today. It means a lot to have you here to witness something so important in my life”, Lando said as they were all gathered at the table. “I know you always come to support me, but this might be the most important thing that has happened in my life, and I am so happy I get to share it with all of you. So thank you, I love you all”.

Y/N was reserved for a more important and private speech later, when they were alone. Lando pulled her to sit in their tiny backyard once everyone was gone, and Ollie was tucked in bed, so they could enjoy this moment alone.

“You want some wine?”, he asked, pouring himself a small glass.

“No, my stomach feels funny today”, she said. “Actually, for the entire week it’s been like this. I thought it was anxiety, but now that the whole thing is past us, I’m not sure anymore”.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”, he frowned, patting the place next to him on the grass of their backyard. She shrugged and rested her head on his shoulder.

“I didn’t think it was that important. Why? Do you think I need to go to the hospital or something?”

“Well, I’m thinking that we haven’t been exactly careful in the bedroom”.

Ever since they moved to Monaco, Y/N and Lando have been living the honeymoon phase of their relationship at its fullest. They were beyond happy to have their own place now, and even more with the whole process of adopting Ollie. And of course all of that resulted in them having a deep connection in the bedroom, exploring each other’s bodies. Sometimes, they even forget about the condom, trusting too much on medication and on “pull outs”.

“Do you think I’m pregnant?”, she asked and Lando shrugged. “I’m on the pill, Lan”

“Pills can fail. And if you’re feeling this sick the entire week, maybe it means something. I don’t know”, he chuckled. “I mean, on Olivia’s pregnancy, you were pretty much an open tap of vomit. So maybe, if you’re feeling sick…”

“Oh God, now you planted a seed in my head”, she groaned. “I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep with this information. What if we really are expecting a baby?”

Lando could sense his girlfriend getting anxious, so he decided that there was only one way to find out. Maybe they would turn this into a more especial night.

“I’ll go down to the pharmacy and get you a test. Then you can sleep fine and end this doubt”, Lando kissed her forehead and got up from the floor before ingesting one more drop of alcohol.

Lucky, they lived just down the road from a pharmacy, and he didn’t even have to take the car to buy the test. His blue McLaren would’ve called too much attention, especially so late at night. Lando was back home in less than fifteen minutes, only to find Y/N pacing around the kitchen, nervous about his arrival.

“Baby, why are you so nervous about this?”, Lando asked, catching her attention. He approached her and held her by the shoulders, looking deep into her eyes. “Look at me, we got this, okay? We went through one pregnancy together and this time, it will be different, okay? You’re going to be fine”.

“You’re right”, she took a deep breath. “I think I’m only nervous because I’m thinking about my last pregnancy, but I know that it will be different when we have our own baby, because I have you now”.

“And you’ll always have me”, he pulled her for a hug and kissed the top of her head. “Now, have you drank enough water?”

“I had two bottles while you were gone”, she chuckled. “So, I’m full and ready to go”.

Y/N went into the bathroom to pee on the tests and Lando stood next to her through the whole time, and they sat in silence on the floor as they waited for the fifteen minutes. They laced their hands together as she nervously bounced one of her legs up and down.

“Fuck me, this is the longest fifteen minutes of my life”, Lando joked to make the room a little lighter.

“It’s eternal”, Y/N said, looking at the clock on her phone. Only seven minutes have gone by. “If it’s positive, have you thought about what would you want to name your child?”

“Well, I have a few options, but you can choose if you want”, he said, but she shrugged.

“I already named our first daughter. Maybe you can suggest our second child’s name”, Y/N said, and he smiled at her. He could never get enough of hearing someone calling Ollie his daughter.

“I’ve always like the name Emma for a girl, and Khai for a boy”, he suggested. “But I don’t know, I have a gut feeling we’ll have another girl in the future”.

“Emma Norris is perfect”, Y/N admitted. “Olivia and Emma are such pretty girls names. And they will be the best of friends”.

“And Ollie is going to be the best big sister”, Lando stated. “She’s going to teach everything to her sissy, and they can play together, have lots of fun”.

“Don’t forget that I can make them wear cute matching outfits”, Y/N joked and they laughed together. “We’re already planning on our kids without even knowing we’re actually expecting one”.

“We’re about to find out”, Lando pointed at the phone, only two minutes left on the clock. They took a deep breath and waited in silence for the last seconds. Secretly, now they were both praying for it to be positive. Having a kid now wouldn’t be so bad. “Can I say something to you before? Something I had been planning on saying before we started panicking”.

“Of course”, she chuckled.

“I want to thank you for trusting me to being your daughter’s father. I am the happiest I’ve ever been today, and it’s all because you trusted me with the most important role in the world”, he started. “And if the tests are positive, thank you for letting me be the father of your children. You have blessed me with two of the most beautiful presents in life”.

When the alarm rang, Y/N quickly shot off and got a hold of the three tests between her hands. All of them positive. She dropped the sticks to the floor and lowered herself as she felt her knees weak. Lando got the sticks with his hands and read the result, immediately bursting into tears.

“We’re having a baby”, he whispered, and she nodded, already lost in her own tears.

“We are”, she smiled. “A little kid that’s a little bit of you and me”.

“Guess that my dream has finally come true”, he pulled her for a hug, and they rolled together on the bathroom floor, trying to be as quiet as possible to not wake Olivia up. Lando lowered himself to be close to her belly and kissed it gently. “Hi, baby. Can you already feel daddy’s love for you?”

“She can”, Y/N assured. “Emma can feel all the love her mummy and daddy have for her”.

“You think it’s a girl too?”, he arched his brows and she nodded. “One more pretty girl to make me happy. Do you think she’ll look just like you and Olivia? Or maybe she’ll have a little bit of me”.

“I’m certain she’ll at least have your eyes”, Y/N gently held his face between her hands and rubbed circles with her thumb on his cheek. “I love you, Lando. I’m so happy for the family we have”.

“I love you too, Y/N. And with you, I’d have thousands of babies if I could”, he chuckled, going back up to kiss her once again. This time, he made sure to not drop his weight over her body. “Maybe we should celebrate this somewhere else other than the bathroom floor”.

“I think that’s a great idea”, she chuckled, taking his hand so they could go to another room.

Lando and Y/N went to bed with a happy smile on their faces, and he simply couldn’t stop talking to her belly, talking to the baby about all the awesome things they were going to do together. And she just lied there, so in love with the man that’s soon going to be the father of her two kids.

As long as they were together, things would be alright.

Lando was helping Olivia get ready for school when Y/N’s water broke. It was two days earlier than they were expecting, so it caught all of them by surprise. But lucky enough, they were all ready to welcome their new kid into the world.

“Baby, daddy’s going to have to take mummy to the hospital because your little sister is coming”, Lando explained to Olivia as he buckled her into the backseat of his car. “Granny is going to be there to look out for you as I help mummy out with Emma, alright?”

“So we’re going to get Em?”, she asked excitedly, and he nodded with a smile.

“We’re going to get Em”, he confirmed. “Now be good for daddy. I’m going to go get mum and help her downstairs, okay?”

Lando was surprisingly calm in this situation, having gone through the labour stress on Y/N’s first pregnancy. Of course, this time it was very different, but he knew what to do. Monaco wasn’t big, so in fifteen minutes they arrived at the hospital to deliver the baby.

“I thought you would be more freaked out”, Y/N admitted to her boyfriend, and he shrugged.

“I’ve done this before, my love”, he kissed her forehead as they were waiting to get into the delivery room. “Not my first daughter, although it will be the first time I know I’ll be the father”.

“Yeah, but it didn’t change the experience of when Ollie was born”, Y/N smiled, remembering the first time he held their eldest daughter in his arms. It was an image burned in her head forever, one of her favourite moments with Lando. “I can’t wait to see you holding one more of our daughters once again”.

“Me too”, he smiled.

Soon, Emma Norris was born. Y/N had an easier delivery this time, and their tiny bundle of joy was welcomed to the world. She was impressed how much a newborn could already look so much like her father. If Olivia was the spitting image of her, Em looked exactly like Lando.

“Do you want to hold her?”, the nurse asked Lando now that the baby was cleaned and dressed up. They were already back in their private room, and he nodded. This time, he didn’t hesitate for one second on asking to hold his daughter.

“Can I take my shirt off? For skin to skin contact. I heard that’s really nice”, he smiled nervously and the nurse nodded. The shirt was scrapped through the air in seconds, and he got himself a place to sit, where the nurse carefully handed his second daughter.

“There you go. You can finally meet your father properly, Emma”, she smiled at him. “I’m gonna leave you three alone for a second”.

Lando was speechless as he held his girl in the arms. Emma was even smaller than Olivia, and she rested so peacefully between his embrace, without a single care in the world. His eyes immediately brimmed with tears as he held her for the first time.

“Hello, baby girl. Welcome to the world”, he started. “I’m your daddy. We’ve been in touch through mummy’s belly for months, but it’s so good to finally meet you face to face. I love you so much”.

“She looks exactly like you”, Y/N commented from her hospital bed, where she had been watching the whole scene unfold. “It’s funny, because it takes weeks until the baby starts to looking less like a thumb and more like a person. But she’s… you! Look at her”.

Lando analysed her daughter features and smiled; Y/N was right, she looked exactly like him. He wondered if she’d grown to have curly hair like his, or maybe if she would get some features from her mum, like her eyes or something. But in general, she looked just like him.

“She really does”, he smiled up at the love of his life, happy to finally be holding a little piece of them between his arms. “I can’t describe how happy I am right now. I don’t want to ever let her go”.

And before he could say anything more, they heard a knock on the door. A little girl peeked her head inside and smiled shyly at them. It was Olivia.

“Hi, daddy. Granny said I could come up and meet Emma”, she said, making him smile widely.

“Come in, my love. Come meet your little sister”, he called, and soon his daughters were together, with his eldest running her fingers gently through the baby’s hair. “Emma, this is your big sister, Olivia. She’s going to be your best friend”.

“Hi, baby Emma”, Ollie whispered and before even asking anyone, she pressed a kiss on the little girl’s forehead. “I love you”.

Y/N had been crying as she watched the whole scene take place in front of her. If the image of Lando holding Olivia for the first time in the arms was her favourite, then this one had already dethroned the old one from her heart. The three loves of her life, all together in one place. Life couldn’t get any better than this.

Silverstone is undoubtedly Lando’s favourite race of the season. And his favourite thing about it was the fact that his entire family always attended the grand prix to give him full support. This time, it was even more especial because it would be Emma’s first time at the paddock after one year and a half since she was born.

The baby girl had just learned how to walk properly and with her cute shoes with papaya bows, she was walking everywhere around the paddock as they arrived together for media day – a chill day so she could properly get used to the track environment. Y/N always stayed close by while Lando walked hand-in-hand with Olivia, who had got a brand-new fluoro yellow shirt from her dad’s collection.

“Jesus, she’s a menace just like you”, Y/N chuckled and Lando stopped to admire Emma walking independently of any other human being. “Seriously, she walks too fast, like she wants me to tire down”.

“I’ll go after her”, Lando pressed a kiss on top of Ollie’s head before taking Emma into his arms. “Hi, baby girl. You’re tiring mummy. I think that’s enough of walking”.

Em giggled as her father kissed her on the cheek, and he continued to carry her all the way to the McLaren motorhome, where the entire team greeted them with excitement. Some of them were emotional to see him so happy with his entire family, having known him since he was just a boy. They were emotional to see the great man he had become.

“Our new papaya girl. The Norris duo will be the best LN4 fans this weekend”, Lando said, pulling Ollie to his side. “Look, I even get the prettiest girl to advertise for me”.

“She looks more like you every day, Lando”, Zak commented, extending his finger for Emma to play. “Do you think she can be in one of my karts soon?”

“Hopefully”, he laughed. “You can put this one as a test driver already”, Lando pointed to Olivia, who earlier that month had beat him in a karting race. And even though he wouldn’t admit it to anyone else, it wasn’t very easy to keep up with her pace.

Thursdays on tracks were always rushed, with lots of journalists to talk to and duties to come across. But after going through every journalist on the track with Y/N, with Lando's father taking care of the kids in the meanwhile, he thought it would be good to have a walk around the track.

“Just like we have always done”, he suggested, extending his hand to Y/N. “We can use the scooter”.

“Like the little kids we are”, she giggled and agreed. It was a little tradition they had, to walk around Silverstone alone every year.

Y/N got to the front of the scooter and Lando placed himself on the back, helping her guide them slowly through the track. It was nice to walk around without anyone on the grandstands, when the track is still calm, waiting for the weekend to come around to be filled with energy.

“Thursdays are so peaceful around here”, she commented and Lando agreed. “Happy to be back?”

“Always”, he smiled, pressing a kiss on the back of her head. “And even more happy to bring our girls here. Ollie loves Silvo, and I hope Emma loves it too”.

“Your father said she played around with everyone on the team that came to talk to her”, Y/N said. “And that she behaved so much better than she usually does, without being the little ball of energy like you”.

“She's a little muppet. I love her so much”, he giggled. “Who would've thought she would turn out to be exactly like me?”

“Well, she already has your face. Might as well have your personality”.

“It’s to balance things out, since Ollie is so much like you”, he shrugged. “A perfect family”.

“It really can't get more perfect than this”, she commented and Lando sighed, making her turn her head a little and frown at him.

“Well, there's a way to make it even more perfect”, he said. “Can you maybe pull over here?”

At that point, they were at the most distant point from the garages at the track, where no one could watch them, giving some privacy. Y/N stopped the scooter and Lando carefully place it on the side, taking it out of her hold for a second

“You're scaring me”, Y/N chuckled nervously, but Lando pulled her for a sweet kiss that made her melt in his embrace.

“Don’t you trust me?”

“Always”, she assured and he took both of her hands in his, getting a tight grip on them.

“Y/N, the first you were on track by my side was here in Silverstone, because I begged Zak to bring you along for the weekend. Back then I was just 19 years old, but I was already so in love with you that I wanted you here for my home race”, he started, making Y/N's eyes water. “Well, any race is a home race with you, because you're always my home. You’re our home, mine and the girls. And I love the family we built; it gives me a reason to wake up every day. But I think there’s a tiny piece missing in this story, and I think there's no other place to ask this than on a track, where we spent so many of our years together. And most specially, on the track where everything began”.

Lando took a small black velvet box from his pocket and kneeled to the ground, making Y/N take her hands to cover her mouth in surprise. She definitely wasn't expecting that today.

“Y/N L/N, will you marry me?”, he proposed, and she immediately nodded, throwing her arms around him.

“Yes, of course I'll marry you”, she pulled him for a rushed kiss and so, he melted into her lips, so happy to hear those simple words that would change his life forever. “I'd marry you in every life, you muppet”.

“I love you so much. You're the love of my life, the mother of my children, and now, my future wife”, Lando said. “Now, life can't get any more perfect”.

“I love you so much too”, she kissed him again. “I can't wait to call you my hubby”.

“Hubby and wifey”, he giggled. “Forever”.

“Forever, my love”.

“Love, you have something on your chin”, Y/N caught Lando’s attention during dinner, and he turned to her, who quickly whipped his chin off with a napkin. He smiled at the proximity, and at how beautiful she looked tonight.

“I can't get over you looking so pretty as my bride”, he commented, putting on stray hair behind her ear. Lando has been so lovestruck by his fiancé on their wedding weekend, to the point where he could almost drool in front of everyone at how beautiful she looks.

Tonight, before the rehearsal dinner, he spent a good minute speechless, lost in his own world like a teenager, when he saw her dressed in white. It felt too real, and he felt like he was falling in love for her once again, just like he did years ago. Lando just couldn’t get enough of falling in love with Y/N.

Through the dinner, he couldn't keep his eyes and attention away from her. Yes, he had the opportunity to talk to many people he hasn't seen in a long time, but she was always the thing that caught his attention. Now that they were eating on a private table with their closest family, it was even more visible, because he was always gravitating towards her.

“You look very handsome as my groom too”, she finished cleaning his chin and pressed a small kiss on his lips. “Everything is just the way I've always imagined”.

“Absolutely perfect, isn't it?”, he whispered, and little Emma's sneeze caught their attention. Olivia helped her little sister wipe her nose off with a napkin, making their parents smile, leaning their heads together to admire the image.

“So perfect”, she assured. “They look like little princess. It’s so cute!”

The hairstylist had tied Ollie's hair in a pretty bun, decorated with tiny flowers, while Emma's very short hair didn’t have much to work with, but still was managed into two tiny buns, also decorated with flowers. Both of them matched their outfits, choosing the same design for the night, except that Ollie picked the blue dress, while Em chose the pink one.

“We make pretty babies”, Lando pressed his chin over her shoulder and Y/N tensed. He was always dancing around her biggest secret, one that she had been waiting for weeks to tell him at their wedding, and she was afraid he was going to ruin her surprise for him. But she played it cool and carried on, simply because she still didn’t have a way to tell him yet.

“We really do”.

“I have a surprise for you”, he said, making her frown. “But we have to be very sneaky, okay? It's something just for me and you”.

“Oh, really? Right now?”, Y/N arched her, and Lando nodded with a cheeky smile. “Okay, let's go”.

Leaving the party behind and going to a secret place alone made Y/N feel like a teenager once again. Lando had her eyes closed a few seconds later, just before they entered the place for his big surprise. Once she opened her eyes again, they were standing alone in a small chapel, decorated with flowers and candles.

“Oh my God, this is so pretty”, Y/N commented, eyes running through every detail of the decoration. “You did all of this?”

“I had help”, he smirked. “I remembered those conversations we had about having our votes private, and I thought that maybe we could get married before we get married”.

Lando opened a small box that carried their wedding rings, making Y/N gasp. It was so reckless, unique and cute; of course she wanted to do this with him.

“Just you and me”, she whispered, and he nodded with a smile.

“As it began. Just you and me”, Lando reassured. “Because it can never get more special than this”.

Y/N took his wedding ring from the box and admired it for a second in her hand. It was definitely much bigger than hers, to fit in his thick fingers. When she finally looked up, his eyes were focused on her and only her.

“The tradition is for the groom to say the vows first”, Y/N pointed out, knowing she could use this in favour to give his surprise. He had just given her a full plate to surprise him as well. Lando giggled, nodding in agreement.

“My love, I can't believe we're finally here. I want to start by saying that I'm speaking everything from the heart, because I can't be trusted around paper, or to write something, for that matter”.

“I'm definitely not marrying you for your writing skills”, she giggled, making him roll his eyes playfully.

“Vows change over the years. I kept thinking that there was no amount of vows I could do to cover our entire relationship, because we change and grow every day. And that's why I want to start by vowing to renew our vows every year. Because getting married to you just once isn't enough, Y/N, and I want to do it every year”.

“I wouldn't be opposed to that”, she shrugged, running one of her hand through his stray curls.

“But there are a few things that will never change about us, and I think those are perfect for a first wedding vow”, he started. “I vow to forever be your listener, who you can come to when things are good and bad, and I will listen to give you all the support you need and deserve. And I vow to protect you and our family under any cost, because you, Olivia and Emma mean more than anything in this world to me. I vow to give you every ounce of my strength, all my love, to keep you all happy. There's nothing I can’t do to see that biggest smile on my girls’ faces”.

“Oh, baby…”

“And I vow to love you, until the end of my days and beyond, and to find you in every lifetime, so we can be together”, he said. “Because love like yours can't be found anywhere, and I can't be thankful enough that we were put in the same room at the right time back when we were younger. Loving you is the best part of my life, and being loved by you is even better. I vow to love you forever, Y/N L/N-Norris”.

Y/N was a mess of tears after that speech; even more when he slipped the ring on her finger, giving it a gentle kiss once it was on.

“My most beautiful, handsome groom. You look the prettiest tonight”, she started, putting one of her hands on his face. “I think if I were to say every single vow I came up with over the past months, we'd be here forever. But there are some mundane things that I think are worth mentioning right now”.

Lando giggled when she opened her notes on her phone, just to remember what she wanted to say. Y/N almost burst into laughter before she started saying her vows.

“I vow to always receive you at the parc fermè with the freshest water and tightest hug after every race; and I vow to keep you well-fed with your favourite breakfast bagels that always make you moan at the taste when you have them. I vow always come to you with hot gossip and to provide you with belly aching laughs every time that I can”.

“I love you so much for that”, they laughed together as Lando pressed a kiss on her forehead. Then Y/N put her phone away, ready to speak the rest of her vows from the heart.

“I vow to be your best friend forever. I know sometimes we forget where we came from after so many things together, but I don't want to ever forget that this all started as best friends”, Y/N burst into tears, finding it very hard to contain her emotions at this time. “To be your biggest cheerleader, to listen to everything you have to say with my heart opened, and to share everything good and bad in life with you”.

Lando couldn't stop crying either. Her vows were so simple, yet so powerful. It was the most special moment of their lives, and he wished he could live in them forever.

“I vow to love you and our family to the end of my days and beyond”, she copied him. “I vow to protect our kids and take care of the legacy we are creating every day. I vow to make all three of our babies very happy”.

“Three?”, Lando’s eyes and voice softened. Her big secret was out now, and she had found the best way to surprise him. “Three babies?”

“You're going to be a dad once again, my love”, she nodded, getting his face between her hands, only to watch his tears streaming from his cheeks in happiness.

“You're pregnant”, he whispered. “For how long have you known?”.

“Three weeks. I'm almost three months in”, she revealed. “I found out when I was shopping with your sisters, and I had barely eaten my brunch when I rushed to the restroom to vomit. I knew exactly what it was, and I wanted to keep it and surprise you at the wedding. Soon we'll have another mini us running around the house”.

“Baby Khai?”, he asked and she nodded. They agreed months back, when they decided they still wanted another baby, that their next one would be called Khai, since it would work for either a boy or a girl.

“Baby Khai Norris, joining the Avengers very soon”, she joked. “I think there wasn't a more perfect way to tell you than like this”.

“There really wasn't”, he agreed.

Y/N put the ring on his finger and gave it a gentle kiss. Soon, Lando pulled her by the hips and their lips met in the sweetest kiss of all time. The best thing about having their vows in private is that he could properly kiss her without making it weird for the guests around then. Kissing her for the first time after being married was like kissing her for the first time ever, back in that club alley all those years ago. He had never felt so full of love, knowing his life was complete with Y/N as his wife, carrying one more of their kids in her belly.

They have come a long way since that first meeting at the MTC, and from all those travelling around the world with F1. And they still had a long way to go, to explore this brand-new world together and raise the most perfect children to carry their legacy of love forever, while chasing for the dream of winning one more championship together.

Life isn't always easy, but they swear it gets a little easier when you have the right person right there with you. And if showing their love for each other isn't enough, saying it did the trick most times.

“I love you, forever”, Lando whispered, his forehead still glued to his wife's, breathes mixing together.

“I love you too. Forever”, she whispered back. “In every corner of this world, in every lifetime. I love you”.

⋘ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 //

𝒔𝒐𝒄𝒊𝒂𝒍 𝒎𝒆𝒅𝒊𝒂 𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏 . 𝐚𝐝𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

#lando norris #lando norris fic #lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine #lando norris x you #lando norris x reader #lando norris x y/n #ln4 #ln4 x reader #ln4 x you #ln4 x y/n #f1 #f1 fanfic #lando norris fluff #lando norris series

320 notes · View notes

daryl-dixon-daydreams · 4 months ago

Text

Words: 3,782 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Warnings: language, blood, descriptions of injury (nothing super graphic), some mild violence Era: The Whisperers Summary: Y/N wakes up after her conflict with the Whisperers in the woods. A/N: Ohhhh boy. Shit is happenin' in this one! Hope you all enjoy!

Part 2 (previous chapter)

Consciousness didn’t consume you in an instant like it usually did. Instead, it came back as a slow drip, drip, drip. Your hearing was the first thing to return and you marked that it was almost silent. There was no bird song, no wind rustling the leaves, no cracking of branches as the pines swayed. You felt no air moving past your face or in your hair. I must be dead, you thought. But then, sensation started to come back and your body ached and burned. Your head was pounding and foggy. Surely being dead didn’t hurt this much… You were lying on something soft. You couldn’t make sense of what was happening or where you were.

You concentrated on trying to open your eyes. It felt like it took hours to get your eyelids to lift and when they did you stared up at an unfamiliar ceiling. Ceiling? What the fuck?

There was suddenly movement beside you, a soft rustling and you turned to look as quickly as you were able to. The man was familiar and though you’d only seen him once up close, you recognized him immediately. He spoke, sitting up hurriedly when he saw your eyes open. “Hey,” he drawled softly.

You gulped and started to panic, your eyes darting around the room and over your own body. You were in some kind of makeshift hospital or clinic and found that you were wearing only a cotton smock reminiscent of the hospital gowns of the old world.

Your heart was pounding. Fuck, your side burned. Your ribs ached. There was a thick bandage around your forearm, where Alpha’s knife had sliced you. You noted that the tip of one of your fingers was black and blue. Your mind was racing, thoughts moving through too quickly to focus on. You stared at the IV tubing going into your arm.

Daryl could read the rising panic on your face, on the sudden twitchy and feverish energy rising in you. He tried to calm you down. “Hey, s’alrigh’. Yer safe here. Yer—”

But the next moment you were on your feet, slipping off the bed onto the floor on the side opposite him. He watched, stunned, as you yanked the IV from your arm, leaving the tube dangling and dripping onto the floor.

He stood quickly, palms out in a show of good will and tried again to get through to you. “S’okay. Yer safe,” he urged, his voice and expression soft. But your eyes were still darting around the room.

You clutched a hand over your side and grimaced. You couldn’t even stand straight. Your body was hunched over due to the overwhelming pain in your side and abdomen. Your muscles felt weak and rubbery. “Where the fuck am I? Where the hell are my clothes, my gear?” you demanded, fear rising in you quickly, tightening around your lungs. Your vision began to tunnel inwards, the edges growing blurry and then black, skrinking, tightening.

“We put it aside for ya,” Daryl replied, trying his hardest to keep his voice low and steady. He could see you swirling, buzzing with nerves and something that looked like fear. “Let’s just—get ya back in bed. Ya just had surgery. Ya lost a lotta blood. Ya shouldn’t be up yet.”

You only stared back at him, your eyes sharp and intense, distrustful.

“Ya’ve got stitches,” Daryl said, taking a hesitant step toward the end of the bed separating the two of you, trying to move closer. He could see your eyes repeatedly darting toward the door. You were going to make a run for it, whether that was rational or not. “We’re tryin’ to help ya. It’s okay,” he drawled again, but he knew he needed back up. “Hey, doc!” He suddenly yelled over his shoulder. “Little help over here!”

A lot of things happened very quickly after that. Afraid that you would injure yourself further if you made a run for it, Daryl stepped around the bed and tried to block your exit with his broad frame. Then, Siddiq and Enid came running from the other side of the clinic just in time to see you haul back a fist and punch Daryl right in the face. He crumpled a little to the side, blood pouring out of his nose.

“Ah, fuck!” he growled, looking at the crimson now dotting the floor and his hands.

You tried to dash past him but suddenly your knees hit the floor. The pain in your side was exponentially worse. You clutched a hand to it, gasping, and felt something wet wicking into the cotton. Lifting your fingers, you saw a violent red spot growing on the fabric.

Daryl stood up, shaking his wavy brown hair out of his eyes and holding a bandana to his nosebleed, but not taking his eyes off you. You looked like a cornered wild animal.

“Enid,” Siddiq said quietly, “get something to sedate her. She tore her stitches.” Now, Siddiq too was stepping toward you with his palms out, cautious and worried about you making the situation worse than it already was. “We just want to help you, okay? You’re hurt pretty bad. You had surgery. Luke and Alden brought you back here. They saved your life. Let’s just—take a few deep breaths, and then get back in bed…”

The edges of your vision were starting to close in. It was like peering through a tunnel that was growing smaller and smaller. “Fuck you,” you murmured. You were surprised by how breathy and weak your voice came out. You tried again to get back up on your feet, but your legs wouldn’t hold you. You collapsed again to the floor and Daryl and Siddiq seized the opportunity and moved in, grabbing hold of you to restrain you. You tried to fight against them but what little energy you had was gone. None of your muscles were working.

“Enid! Hurry up!” Siddiq called.

The tunnel of black in your vision closed in completely. You shut your eyes, sinking slowly toward unconsciousness again. You were vaguely aware of the voices filtering in still. They sounded like they were coming out of a drain, indistinct and muddled.

“Give her the injection,” Siddiq urged. Enid rushed forward and administered the dose into your upper arm.

Daryl, his nose finally no longer bleeding, could see that you were already crashing even before the shot. He cradled your head and neck as you collapsed toward the cold, tile floor.

“How bad is it?” he asked as you went limp in his arms. The crimson stain seemed impossibly large already on your cotton gown, but he hoped it was just from the way the fabric was wicking up the blood.

Siddiq’s jaw clenched. “I don’t know. Let’s hope she only tore the surface stitches, otherwise we’ll have to do surgery again. Enid, you’ll have to check her. Grab a towel to put under her on the bed. Here—Daryl, help me get her laid down again.”

“I’ll get her,” Daryl replied. “Just go get what ya need to treat her.” Siddiq agreed and hurried off. Daryl scooped you into his arms as gently as he could and laid you down on the bed again, sighing. He stepped back with his brow deeply furrowed.

Enid glanced over at him. His face was a bloody mess and he dabbed at it again with his handkerchief, tilting his head back and again shaking his hair out of his eyes. “How’s your nose? Do you think it’s broken?” she asked.

Daryl gave it an exploratory prod, wincing as he pushed his fingers along the bridge. It was swollen, but he didn’t think it was broken. He shook his head. “Nah. I dun think so. But she got me pretty good for somebody in her shape,” he drawled.

Enid nodded and glanced back at you on the bed. “What happened that set her off?”

Daryl shook his head and shrugged vaguely. “She just—woke up. And then started lookin’ for a way out,” he said. “I think—I think she was havin’ a panic attack.”

Enid sighed. “As much as I hate to say it, we might need to restrain her,” she said, turning her attention to the wound in your side now. “She could have really done more damage to herself.” Siddiq returned with supplies. Daryl averted his eyes and moved around the other side of the bed as Enid pulled up the gown to expose your wounds. Daryl caught just the smallest glimpse of the deep blue and black bruising blooming up your side, smeared with red.

“I’ll let ya take care of her, give her some privacy. I’ll go update ev’rybody,” he drawled, quickly taking his leave and stepping out into the open air. He pulled in a deep lungful and rubbed a hand over his face. Fuck. That almost couldn’t have gone worse.

Before he did anything, Daryl needed to clean himself up. He headed up to the big main house and sought out a washing basin, pouring in fresh water from the pitcher and washing his hands and face, inspecting himself in the mirror. His nose was definitely swollen and it was a bit hard to breathe… but it looked far better without all the blood everywhere. He wondered if he’d have the shadow of a couple black eyes tomorrow…

“God!” Tara was suddenly striding up to him, concern written all over her face. “What happened to you?!” she asked, incredulous. Alright, so maybe his nose still didn’t look great…

“Uhh—she woke up,” Daryl drawled.

“And—what? Attacked you?” Tara asked, perplexed.

“I think she was havin’ a panic attack. She just looked scared more than anythin’. She tried to run outta the damn clinic with her fuckin’ stitches and everythin’,” he replied.

“Jesus!” Tara exclaimed. “Do we need to—move her into one of the cells?” she asked, clearly alarmed.

“Nah,” Daryl replied quickly. “She was just disoriented, is all. She’ll be alrigh’. She tore her damn stitches though. Siddiq and Enid are workin’ on her now.”

Tara sighed and nodded.

“How’s it goin’ with the girl and Henry?”

She shrugged. “Okay. I think a lot of what she’s saying is bullshit but—maybe we’ll get there. She seems to be building rapport with him.”

Daryl nodded. “Yeah, well maybe if we can talk to this woman we can leave Henry out of it.”

“Maybe,” Tara agreed. “But I’m not sure, based on what you’ve said, that she’s any more likely to talk.”

“Guess we’ll find out.”

Daryl’s next task was to go find Alden and Luke. They’d expressed grave concern about you when they managed to get you back to Hilltop. Considering how you’d saved them, returning the favor felt like the least they could do. If you hadn’t shot those Whisperers out of nowhere and then appeared like a fucking ghost, they didn’t know what would be happening to them now. Miraculously, they’d happened on their horses wandering home along the old highway and had been able to lift you onto one, patched up against the bleeding as best they could. Still, by the time they’d reached the gates, there was a river of crimson running down the saddle and you were pale and chilled. No one was sure you’d survive.

The story of your fight with Alpha and the others wearing the horrifying skin masks had already been told many times and passed through Hilltop like wind through bare branches. There were whispers everywhere as Daryl walked toward the trailer the new group was staying in. He found Alden and Luke standing outside with the other newcomers, Yumiko, Kelly, Connie, and Magna. They looked eager as they saw him approaching.

“Wh—uhh… what happened to your face?” Luke blurted out.

Daryl waved a hand dismissively. “S’nothin’. She woke up,” he said. “But—she tore her stitches again and passed out so Enid and Siddiq were checkin’ her. I’m not sure how bad but—”

“Wait—she did that to your face?” Alden asked, his eyebrows lifting. He blinked, surprised. “I told ya she was a helluva fighter,” he said with a wry laugh. “Even after losing pints of blood, she got a hit in on Daryl Dixon. Not many can say that.”

“Why did she do that to your face?” Yumiko asked, concerned.

Daryl sighed. “She was just scared and disoriented. She’s on some heavy meds—it’s alrigh’,” he said for what felt like the hundredth time.

“But she’ll be okay?” Kelly asked. “I mean, she saved Alden and Luke. She has to be okay. Is Tara gonna let her stay here?”

Daryl gulped and shook his head. “S’too early for all of that. And honestly, I dun think she’ll want to stay.”

“Well, why not? If she’s as good as Luke has said she is, she’d be an asset here,” Magna said. “There are walls, resources.”

“Some people—” Daryl paused and chewed nervously on his bottom lip for a moment. “Some people just dun wanna be inside walls. Some people are better out there.” He felt their eyes on him and ducked his head. “Anyway, I thought ya’ll’d wanna know. ‘M gonna go back up and see how she is. They should have her patched up by now unless it’s real bad.”

When he got back to the clinic, Enid was at your bedside. She stood as his bootsteps approached and met his inquisitive gaze. “She only tore through the outside stitches,” she said. “We got her stitched up again.”

Daryl’s eyes landed on the fabric strips now tying her hands to the rails of the gurney. “Do ya think that’s necessary?” he drawled.

Enid smiled at him and let out a dry laugh. “She punched you in the face and ripped through about twenty stitches. Don’t you?”

Daryl bit the inside of his cheek thoughtfully for a moment. “S’just—ain’t gonna win us any points with her. If we want her to tell us what she knows, it ain’t a good start.”

Enid nodded. “I know. If she can be calm when she wakes up, once she gets her bearings, if she’s not a flight risk, we can untie them. But she could have seriously hurt herself again. She had a lot of internal bleeding and she’s already lost so much blood…”

“Alrigh’. Hey—I’ll stay. Go take care of Rosita and Eugene,” Daryl said, sighing. He took his seat again at your bedside and waited. He’d hardly been sitting for two minutes, when outside the window, he caught a glimpse of a dark shape zip by.

Daryl stood and paced around your bed, coming to stand at the window. At first, he didn’t see any sign of it, but another burst of movement caught his eye and he looked up to see a raven circling overhead. He watched its graceful movements as it swept downward, riding the wind. It hovered low over the next trailer and then spread its tail wide and dropped down to stand on the roof. Daryl had the distinct feeling that it was staring at him through the window. It stood for a moment, tilting its head this way and that as if trying to figure him out. Then it lifted its head and let out a series of hoarse calls, its wings spreading slightly with each burst. Afterwards, it seemed to settle in on the edge of the roof and Daryl knew, somehow, it was waiting for you.

He returned to the chair at your bedside and sank down again. The afternoon wore away and he passed the time sharpening his knives and working on his crossbow. Eventually, evening began to fall and exhaustion started to settle over him. His mind was churning over the Whisperers, over the girl now held in Hilltop’s cell, over Henry, over Jesus…

At some point, he fell asleep slouched in the chair. He woke to a soft rustling sometime after night had thickly fallen and he shot upright, fully awake immediately. He saw you blinking yourself awake by the light of the lantern he’d lit on the small table by the door. Your eyelids were heavy and again consciousness was slow to return.

He figured he’d better try to head off your panic, if that was even possible. He stood slowly, careful not to startle you. “Hey,” he said gently.

Your arm lifted from the bed as if you were trying to raise a hand to your face, but the movement was quickly stopped by the fabric tying your hand to the bed rail. He watched your face darken with understanding and your chest began to rise and fall faster.

“Yeah… ‘M sorry ‘bout that,” he drawled. “Ya tore some of yer stitches last time and the docs are worried ‘bout somethin’ worse happenin’.”

You merely stared up at him, your chest still heaving with each breath, eyes narrowed under your furrowed brow.

Daryl awkwardly scratched at a non-existent itch on the back of his head. The silence was thick, heavy. He marveled at how small you looked on the gurney, but recalled everything Alden and Luke had told him about your fight with this supposed leader of the Whisperers, or The Shepherds as you called them. You must have fought with no small amount of ferocity.

“Where the hell am I?” you asked. Your throat was dry and your voice came out raspy. You couldn’t believe how tired you felt. They probably had drugged you with something… if not to sedate you then just the painkillers you were sure were going straight into your bloodstream would explain it. For the moment you were grateful for them. Even through your current fog, your body still ached and your side... you didn’t know how to describe the feeling but it was unpleasant. You hadn’t forgotten the pain from the last time you’d awoken and tried to get out. The panic had overwhelmed you, but the pain had knocked you to your knees.

“A community of survivors. We call it Hilltop,” Daryl said. He was studying you, studying your face, each micro-expression, trying to get a read on you… but it felt impossible. Well—except he could tell you were largely pissed.

You sighed and your head dropped back onto the pillow. You were so tired. Just staying awake was a struggle. Your eyes closed again and you took a few breaths, trying to slow your heart rate and willing your lungs to slow down too.

“Look, if ya—”

“Daryl, isn’t it?” you interrupted him. He looked almost surprised that you remembered his name. “Am I a prisoner here?” you asked him, your eyes opening again and fixing on his. “I’d like to know how saving two of your people is a fucking crime.”

He gulped. “No. ‘Course ya ain’t,” he replied gently.

“Then why are my hands tied to the fucking bed?” He could hear the panic rising in your voice again and he shifted.

“Because of what happened last time… Ya ripped yer outside stitches open on your side. Ya had surgery. That knife? It nicked yer liver. Ya were bleedin’ out when Alden and Luke got ya back here. Hell, ya were half-dead. Ya could undo everythin’ the docs did if ya aren’t careful. If ya promise to stay calm and in the damn bed, I’ll untie ya righ’ now,” he said quickly.

You stared at him with distrust still. Daryl’s hand landed on the handle of his knife in its sheath. You flinched slightly as he unbuckled the loop and slid it out, looking down at it in his hands for a long moment. He chewed on the inside of his cheek for a long moment and gulped. “All we wanna do is help ya. Ya saved two of our own. Four if ya count me and Dog. And ya didn’t have to do that.” With one hand, he reached over and untied the binding on your wrist. Then, he held out the knife for you to grip the handle.

You accepted it in your now free hand, though you still peered at him with suspicion.

But Daryl seemed undeterred. He only nodded and moved around to the other side of the gurney and untied your other hand before returning to pull his chair a little closer to the bed and sit down.

You turned the knife over in your hands, not taking your eyes off him.

“Do ya need anything? Water?”

You gulped and stared down at the knife in your hands for a moment before shaking your head. “Where’s Achilles?” you asked suddenly.

Daryl’s head tilted slightly. “Achilles?”

“My raven.”

Daryl nodded. “More creative name than ‘Dog,’” he commented, nearly smiling at you. When you didn’t react, he simply cleared his throat and pointed to the window. “Last I saw, he was waitin’ righ’ out there, on the roof of the next building.”

You sighed and your head dropped back into your pillow again. You clutched the knife against your chest like it was a lifeline. Daryl watched as you purposely took in some slow, deep breaths.

“Ya alrigh’?” he asked softly.

“Is she dead?” you asked suddenly, your eyes meeting his again. Daryl gave you a questioning look. “Alpha. Is she dead? Did your people kill her after she—she kicked me in the fucking head?”

Daryl gulped and shook his head. “No. She—she managed to get away. They were more worried about you.”

Your eyes closed and you let out a heavy sigh. “I stabbed her in the fucking thigh. How did she get away?” You said it more to yourself than to Daryl. “If they could have killed her, they should have and left me to die.”

Daryl felt as if all the air in the room had suddenly been sucked out. His nerves seemed to sizzle with electricity. “Why would ya say that?” he asked softly, concernedly.

You turned away and wouldn’t say anymore. Daryl sat back in his chair and watched as your breathing slowed and deepened but your grip on his knife never loosened.

#daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon twd #the walking dead #twd fanfics #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl imagines #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x y/n #fanfics #writers of tumblr #twd drabbles #daryl dixon angst

181 notes · View notes