#but it turned out a little more angsty than i intended

[heelkenny]

Blame my ex Blame my ex Blame my ex

[feral4daryl]

I would love to see a fic of Daryl with pregnant reader (bonus points if there’s a breeding kink [if you’re comfortable, I didn’t see it in the list] that results in her being that way). She’s concerned about the changes in her body and that he doesn’t find her attractive in her condition. So, Daryl gets to share his love for pregophillia. :)

masterlist || MDNI

depths of your despair.

daryl dixon x pregnant!reader

summary: after a series of misunderstandings, insecurities regarding your pregnancy start affecting your relationship with daryl. but as soon as he becomes aware of that, he makes it up to you, worshipping your pregnant body like he should've done since the beginning.

warnings: 18+ smut, pregophilia, dirty talk, pet names, praising, cunnilingus, degradation, daddy kink, creampie, impregnation, arguments, rough sex, pregnancy sex, outdoors sex, slight choking, dacryphilia, self-consciousness, manhandling (if you squint), squirting.

word count: 8.1k

a/n: tysm for your request, i really enjoyed writing this one <3 it turned out a tiny bit more angsty than i intended it to but i promised it has a happy ending!

<flashback>

“Tha's righ', doll” Daryl cooed against your ear, harshly gripping your hips to keep you in place while he pounded your tight cunt at a fast pace. His chest pressing on your back, making your body shake with intense pleasure at his every thrust, each one deeper than the previous. You could feel his sweat wetting your body, barely able to keep your eyes open.

“Takin' daddy's cock so well like a good lil’ slut” The contrast between praising and degrading turns your brain into putty. That man knew all your weakest spots, he always knew exactly what to say to make you weak in the knees, struggling to keep yourself on your feet. You couldn't think of anything else or anyone else in that moment but him and the feeling of his big cock almost ripping your little cunny apart.

Daryl's always been the sweetest to you, always making sure you were safe, giving you all the shoulders when you cried, but when it came to sex, he was always just so eager and desperate for you that he couldn't help but be rough. He made every fucking feel like the last one, as if it was his last chance to ever lay his hands on you. He made it count, making you wonder how you were capable to have lived so many years without that man before you met him.

You tried to keep quiet, careful not to catch the attention of any of those walking dead fuckers' roaming around the woods while Daryl harshly abused you against a tree, whispering the dirtiest words into your ears. But he wasn't making it easy on you, and despite your effort, your moans and cries were getting louder and louder as you got closer to your high. He reveled in the way you bit your lips and threw your head back to rest it on his shoulder. He took the opportunity to let go of your hips and wrap his big arm around your throat, his other palm now pressing against your lips in an attempt to muffle your sounds.

“Shhh...” He shushed you. “Be nice 'n quiet fer daddy, yea?” His teasing words and a small nibble on your earlobe from him were all it took to make your legs finally fail as you sank to your knees. Instead of holding you up, he nearly finished throwing you on the dirt, laying your body flat on it. The tickling of the leaves and the rough texture of the ground could almost bother you if you weren't so lost in pleasure. He got even rougher, if that was possible, banging his hips against your ass so hard that made your moans shaky and your eyes start tearing up.

He loved whenever he gave you so much pleasure that you cried on his cock, the sight of thick tears running down your cheeks only fueling his twisted desires for you.

“Aww, wha's the matter, sunshine?” He mocked you, his voice coming out a bit louder than he expected. His piercing blue eyes looked around for a moment, searching for any threats but never stopping railing you. When he found none, he fully returned his attention to you, noticing the way your moans had practically dissipated and your had your eyes shut tight, a clear sign that you were dangerously close to cumming.

“Gunna cum fer daddy?” The volume of his groans and grunts getting harder and harder to hold back. You weren't able to speak with his hand pressed against your mouth and almost couldn't breathe with his big bicep wrapped around your throat, but you managed to nod slightly.

“Fuck, 'm gunna cum!” His needy voice filled your empty mind and you felt his hips stuttering when the rhythm of his thrusts started faltering. “Gunna fill ya up, make ya heavy w' ma babies.” You widened your eyes out, it was the first time he ever said something like that. But you were willing to give that man all he wanted, make his every wish come true like your life depended on it. You wouldn't say no to him and honestly, the thought of caring his children strangely turned you on even further. A faint smirk managed to creep on your face.

“Ya wan' tha', beautiful? Ya wan' Daddy ta make ya pregnant, hm?” How could you ever say no to him when the neediness in his voice was so obvious?

“P-please, fuck a baby into me.” The strangled sound of your voice while you begged him to fill you up was the fuse for him to finally start shooting ropes of cum into your velvety walls. Your tight pussy clenched around his cock as you weren't able to stop your own orgasm from dominating all your senses. It was like the world stopped spinning and the whole Universe contributed to make that moment perfect.

As both of you came down from your highs, Daryl gently brushed a strand of hair off your cheek, tugging it behind your ear to place a soft kiss to your temper. In that moment, the sounds of your labored breathing as you struggled to catch your breath was all that could've been heard until he let out a light chuckle.

“Can't believe we did this.” You could hear a smile in his voice while he pressed his cheek against the back of your head for a last time before adjusting his position, sitting down on the dirt and gently grabbing your arms, helping you do the same. Even though you were in the middle of the woods, you couldn't care less about it. All you wanted was to be in Daryl's strong embrace. “But I'm glad we did” You whispered, snuggling his chest.

<end of flashback>

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀~4 months later~

It still felt vivid.

It's like you could still feel his love from 4 months ago, the way he groped your body and made love to you like it was the last time. How ironic, if somebody told you that was actually the last time, you would have laughed right in their face. Now, as you unwrapped the towel off your naked body and tossed it aside to stare at yourself into the mirror, you wondered if you'd made the right choice, if you really should've let the heat of the moment get the best of you.

Your belly was round and your bellybutton was puffing out, an unusual look to you but it's been your reality for the past 4 months. You didn't really know how to feel about it. You were happy to be the one having the privilege to carry Daryl's baby, but at the same time it still felt so new and strange to you. And the way he felt so distant since the day when he knocked you up was not helping you feel any better about it.

He wasn't exactly neglectful of your needs as a pregnant woman. He was always around you, making sure you were safe, helping you through the symptoms of pregnancy, holding your hair up whenever you threw up. He was there, but at the same time, he wasn't.

4 months ago Daryl used to be so eager for you, always so thirsty for you. And now, he just left you aching for his touch. Whenever you tried to initiate some intimacy, he turned you down, leaving you confused at his strange behavior. He definitely wasn't the type of guy to refuse sex, at least not after knowing you, so you started wondering if you were the problem.

The stretch marks on your belly were getting more and more obvious as the time passed, your breasts all swelled up with milk. You gained some weight, and as you leaned in closer to check on your face on the mirror, you could see how round your face was getting.

Disgust.

That's what you felt when you looked at yourself. You were so sure your looks were the reason why Daryl wanted nothing to do with your body ever since you got pregnant. As that feeling filled up your whole body, you quickly started putting some clothes on, not able to look at yourself like that not even for one more second. Maybe he didn't like you in dresses, you wondered, trying to find a reasonable motive for his absence when it came to the moments of intimacy between you two that used to be so frequent and special in your relationship. Anyways, loose dresses were all that fit your body as your belly grew bigger and bigger each day.

It just broke your heart. The feeling of helplessness took over you as thick tears ran down your face, smearing the makeup you started to put on to see if it would make him even just a little bit interested in you. But just as all your other attempts, it was useless. You brought your soft palm to your mouth to muffle your sobs, but that only reminded you of how Daryl used to do the same exact thing to muffle your moans when he loved your body. More and more tears streamed down your cheeks as you reminisced your last time together like that.

You made a decision. You didn't want to suffer like that anymore, so you decided that you were gonna try to get his attention for the last time before shutting down completely. You didn't wanna give his love up, but you were so tired of practically begging for him only for him to brush you off every time. You sighed and looked at yourself on the mirror for the last time, wiping your tears away and taking a deep breath before going about your day.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀~Later that same day~

It was dark and Daryl still hadn't come home from his run. He was out scavenging, or hunting, you weren't even sure since you didn't bother to ask much. You had promised yourself that you were going to try to be intimate with him one last time, but that day he just vanished, leaving you waiting for him all day until you gave up waiting. You weren't only disappointed, you were almost angry at him, trying to give him a taste of his own medicine. But who were you trying to fool? That didn't make you feel better at all and you weren't sure if he noticed it.

It was happening again, that one familiar knot started forming in your throat as your lips pouted and you pulled the blanket over your head, feeling embarrassed at your own vulnerability. You brought a hand to your own belly, gently stroking it. Oh, how you loved that little bundle of happiness that was growing inside you. But at the same time, you felt so strange about it. You loved your baby, that's for sure, but you felt like it was the reason why Daryl didn't want you anymore. At the same time it made you hopeful of a new beginning in life, it was reminder of the day when Daryl stopped finding you attractive, even remotely.

Once again you weren't able to hold your sobs back, but this time, you were forced to abruptly swallow them down when you heard the creak sound of the door being gently pulled open. You knew who it was, and you almost wish you didn't.

“Pumpkin'?” Daryl's quiet voice filled the room as he called you that stupid nickname he only used when he knew you were feeling down. You didn't answer.

Light footsteps could be heard getting closer and closer to the bed before you felt the weight of his body on the edge of the mattress. “Y/N, hun'?” He called for you again, but when he got no answer for the second time, he reached for you, gently touching your arm from over the blanket.

“What do you want?" Your tone sounded a bit harsher than you intended to, but you didn't care. He sighed.

“I think we need ta talk, pumpkin'” He voice, making you even more frustrated.

“Quit calling me that, alright?” The muffled sound of your voice reached his ear, and he flinched a little at your sudden aggressiveness, removing his hand from you.

He was silent for a moment, digesting your strange reaction after speaking again with an even softer tone. “Aigh'.” He sighed. “Listen, Y/N...” It's like he was struggling to form a sentence. He was never really the type of person to have the right words or to know what to say to comfort somebody, but he tried nonetheless.

“I need ta know wha's happenin' if ya wan' me ta help.” He muttered. You almost felt guilty at the way you were treating him, but you had enough.

“Ugh, Daryl.” The way you said his name had a hint of scorn, a clear reflexion of the troubled feelings in your heart. You finally pulled the blanket off your face, lifting your body up to sit down on the mattress in a quick and almost aggressive motion. “Who the fuck said I need your help? Just leave me alone, ignore me like you always do.” You spitted out, looking deep into Daryl's widened out eyes. “I don't want you here.” You continued. You knew damn well you were saying all that because you thought that's how he felt, like some sort of revenge, but your heart was broken because of him. It was his fault and you were tired of pretending everything was okay. “Why don't you go fuck some other slut out there? Maybe they're better, thinner, prettier than me!” Your tone was filled with hurt as you voiced your insecurities. “Maybe you should be with them once and for all.” You practically whispered that last line, muttering under your breath.

The truth was you started considering the possibility of Daryl having an affair behind your back ever since you got pregnant. And you just couldn't take it, you couldn't help the way your heart shattered at the thought of Daryl putting his hand on another woman, making her feel good just how he used to do when he still loved you. You were so sure he hadn't left you yet just because he wouldn't be able to live with himself knowing that he left a pregnant woman behind. You knew that was the only reason was he still bothered to even talk to you.

Daryl was so dumbfounded by your attitude, since you were usually such a sweet and caring person, that he freezed. He didn't know what to say or do, so he just sit there, looking obviously negativity affected by your harsh words, wondering what the hell did he do to deserve that kind of treatment.

“Y/N-” He started talking, but you were having none of it. You spent so long begging him attention that now you just didn't want it anymore. When he threatened to scoop closer in a final attempt to ease things out, you surprised him by pushing him away from you with your hand pressed on his chest. “Get out!" You practically yelled. That was the most shocked you've ever seen Daryl's face before. After a moment, he averted his gaze to the floor, looking lost in thought before standing up and nodding slowly, knowing better than to push you harder. He walked to the door and closed it behind him, finally leaving you alone as you wanted him to. Or at least that's what you thought.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ *One week later*

You haven't seen Daryl since your last one-sided argument. If you missed him before, now the feeling got even worse. Ever since he closed that door a week ago, you haven't even heard of him. Maybe he'd left you for good. But could you blame him? You literally kicked him out of your life like it didn't matter. But after all, he was the one that made it feel like it didn't matter. That's what you had to keep feeling yourself, trying to comfort your poor soul or make yourself feel any less guilty. It didn't really work, though.

You tried. When he was gone for the first day, you wasted no time before trying to make it up to all the time you lost longing for him. You flirted with random men and women, trying to catch a glimpse of that feeling you used to get when Daryl gave you attention, but it wasn't the same, it didn't feel remotely similar. Maybe pushing him away like that was a mistake, maybe you had really lost him.

But fuck it. You were pregnant with his baby and he still had the gut to leave you behind. You had every single right to be mad and to try to restart your life, this time away from him. Even though it had been only one week, it felt like an eternity, every second he wasn't there made you feel every cell on your body begging for him, but you couldn't give in.

Sigh.

Spencer. You noticed the way he looked at you before and after you got pregnant. His gaze didn't change, he still licked his lips and looked you up and down with that stupid smirk on his face everytime you walked by. He was often the reason for arguments between you and Daryl when you were still together, but now, there was nothing stopping you. Not that you were attracted to him exactly, to be honest, he kind of annoyed you, but you just wanted to try. You just wanted to give yourself a chance to be loved, actually loved, not only for your looks. Deep inside, you knew you were just needy to feel something, anything, but you couldn't be blamed for wanting to feel okay after such a long time of feeling neglected.

You turned your head to search for him just to notice he was already staring from afar. You turned your head to face forward again, feeling a bit uncomfortable at the way he looked at you. Now that Daryl was gone, that type of behavior wasn't unusual coming from Spencer. He got even more spunky than before, flirting with you every single time he had the opportunity to. You swallowed your pride, trying to convince yourself that you were actually into him, taking a moment to decide whether or not to approach him and try something. You knew he wouldn't reject you, you just needed to dominate your heart that was still very much in love with Daryl and move on with your life, and maybe trying something with someone new was the first step to finally get over him.

As you gathered up the nerve to walk over to Spencer, slowly turning your body, you gasped in surprise noticing that he was already standing behind you. You were so lost in thought that you didn't even hear him approaching you.

“Easy there, doll.” He uttered. It felt weird to have anyone else that wasn't Daryl calling you pet names, but you quickly shook those thoughts away, trying to focus on the present. “Hey.” You answered, sounding significantly more uninterested than you meant to.

“What's eating you?” He pondered with a hint of playfulness in his voice and that stupid grin once again when he noticed your stiffness.

“Nothing.” You faked a smile. “What you been up to?” You tried to remain polite but flirty at the same time, trying your best to cover up how much you found him annoying. It was for the best, you thought. You just needed to adapt.

“Well...” He came closer. You had to fight all the urges to step away. “You know, the usual. I was just...” His fingers brushed your cheek before tugging a strand of hair behind your ear. Too close. But you continued playing along as he resumed his speech. “... Admiring your beauty.” God, could he get any cornier than that? It's like everyone that wasn't Daryl just looked so stupid trying to get your attention. There was you again, thinking about the archer. You sighed, failing to mask your lack of interest towards Spencer, but you managed to speak either way.

“Uh... Thanks...” You scratched the back of your head, feeling uncomfortable at his advances, but you tried to remind yourself that that whole thing meant a new start.

He looked so full of himself when he puffed his chest and had the audacity to say: “Can I follow you home?” You tilted your head in confusion. “Huh?” For the first time since you acknowledged his presence, he actually had your attention.

“Cause my parents always told me to follow my dreams.” He said that as if it was the most genius thing one could say. You had to make physical effort not to throw up or burst out laughing right there and then. The hell was that supposed to mean? Were you really the type of woman to fall for corny pick-up lines? But... You didn't really had other options. You had to give him a chance, maybe he was the one.

Either way, you couldn't bring yourself to say anything, so you just stood there with a stupid fake smile on your face. Spencer must've interpreted that as an invitation, because he leaned in, his face inches away from yours. You two weren't even 3 minutes into that conversation and he was already all over you. You wondered if that whole situation was awkward just for you, because he behaved as if he had you wrapped tight around his finger.

You really, really wanted to start running right away from him, but you were paralyzed, trying to decide if you should stay or go. But before you could make up your mind, he pulled you in by the back of your head, connecting your lips together.

Ugh.

It was probably the most awkward kiss of your life, as if you just forgot how to kiss in that moment. You widened your eyes out at the uncalled situation, and as he licked, bit and kissed your lips, yours remained stiff, like he was kissing you but you weren't kissing him. You felt deeply disgusted. What were you doing? Just like your lips, your arms were rigid on your sides, but his hands were roaming all over your body. You felt assaulted, even though you were allowing him to do that.

You wondered how the hell you ended up there: pregnant, with a missing boyfriend and making out with some douchebag out of emotional deprivation. In that moment, it finally clicked, you were just trying to fill the hole Daryl's absence left in your heart, and putting up with Spencer's audacious manners was no way of dealing with grief.

You finally pushed him away, accidentally sounding too annoyed. “See you around.” You spitted out before turning around and leaving him standing there in confusion, or maybe confidence, you didn't know since you didn't bother to study his reaction before quickly entering the house you were settled in in Alexandria.

You closed the door behind you, pressing your hands on your face, fighting the urge to scream and let all that frustration out. You slowly slid your back against the wooden door until your bottom reached the floor. If one word could describe you right now, it was helpless. For the hundredth time in the past few months, you started crying. It was like it was all you knew how to do since you lost control of your life. Oh, how you regretted that one moment 4 months ago where you slipped, causing your life to be destroyed right before your eyes while not being able to do a thing about it. Now not only you felt ugly, but you felt ugly and lonely. Your sobs got louder and louder as you wrapped your arms around your legs, lowering your head to press your forehead to your knees.

Knock-knock

Suddenly, you heard a knock at the door. You abruptly interrupted your crying, feeling embarrassed at the possibility that someone's heard you like that. After a few seconds, you heard another knock. You sighed.

“Leave me alone...” You muttered loud enough to be heard from the other side of the door. You knew it was probably Carol coming to visit, maybe bringing you some cookies or something like that to make you feel better. It was so sweet of her, but you hated how everyone was treating you ever since Daryl disappeared. You just couldn't take the look in their eyes, the so obvious pity they felt. After all, you were a recently abandoned mother, and Carol along with your other group mates, just wanted to be there for you. Little did they know they were just making it worse.

When you were starting to think the person finally left, you heard a third knock on the door. Whoever was there, didn't seem to be giving up soon. You almost felt grateful for having someone give a shit about you, but deep down you just wanted to be left alone. You breathed out for a last time before standing up with difficulty due to your heavy pregnant belly and reaching for the doorknob, contemplating whether you should let them in or not. Then, you turned it and slowly pulled the door open.

Your eyes remained glued to the floor, not having the courage to look into anyone's eyes right now. Then, to your surprise, a familiar hoarse voice made its way to your ears.

“The hell was tha'?” You swiftly lifted you chin up, locking eyes with him, the man who left you when you needed him the most. He definitely had seen your pathetic attempt of feeling appreciated with Spencer. For a millisecond, you were actually relieved to see Daryl, but quickly enough anger flooded your senses once again. It's like it was all coming back to you, the same exact feeling from one week ago when you saw him for the last time making your blood boil once again. How did he dare to disappear into the world and then come back as if nothing happened?

You didn't wanna waste no more time with him and that situation anymore, it was just too nerve-wracking and you just needed a break from all that. So you aggressively pushed the door aiming to slam it on his face, but he was more cunning and placed a hand on the way, stopping it from closing all the way.

“Please, Y/N!” He almost shouted, visibly impatient. You turned your back and started walking further into the house, ignoring his calls for you.

“Can ya please just talk ta me?!” He continued, following you around. You remained trying to disconsider his presence.

“Why r ya doin' this fer, woman?!” Now, he finally yelled. It was the first time he ever raised his voice at you. In that moment, you felt like any hint of the caring man you once loved had faded away forever. The feeling hit you like a truck and you stopped your angry steps, turning around so your back was facing him. You couldn't stop your tears from falling not even if you wanted to, and suddenly, all your anger was replaced with a deep sadness. You weren't even trying to muffle your loud noises, sniffing and sobbing hard. When he saw you like that, he decided to just drop it and pretend like he hadn't seen you kissing that bastard. It felt a sacrifice to him, but he didn't want to make you feel worse than you already did.

For a few moments, Daryl gave you some space, not trying to startle you or make things worse. Then, after a while of silence and almost feeling as if you were alone in the room, you felt a warm breath hitting your ear. Shivers ran down your spine, something you hadn't felt in such a long time.

He studied your reaction, and when he felt it was okay to touch you, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling your back closer to his chest. That made you cry even harder, the sting in your heart getting worse. But at the same time, it felt so good to finally be in his embrace once again. You had missed his strong arms and his warmth so bad, it was a mix of confusion and relief. You wanted to push him away, yell at him, tell him to go, but the second his scent of cigarettes and wet grass filled your nose, you knew you wouldn't be able to. That's how much you missed him, though you weren't ready to asmit it just yet.

“Jus'... lemme talk to ya..." He whispered, placing a soft kiss to the skin behind your ear. And just like that, you melted in his hands. You had no idea what to say, but you were willing to listen to whatever came out of his mouth.

“I jus' wanna know wha' happened. I understand, 'm s'pposed ta know and 'm a dick fer not knowing, but... If ya don' talk ta me, I... I jus' won' know how ta make things righ'.” He was so gentle with his words, so caring. He sounded actually worried, making the situation so puzzling to you. You opened to mouth to speak, but nothing came out of it.

“Ya said sumthin' 'bout me goin' out with other women...” He spoke after a few seconds. “Wha'... Wha' was that all about? I would never...” Daryl didn't really have a way with his words, but you could see he was putting effort into talking to you and trying to fix things. The way he kept you tightly into his hug and his fingers brushed gently against your arm were actually being helpful, and your sobs slowly faded away as your tears stopped falling.

“You don't want me anymore." That's all you managed to speak before you felt tears threatening to fall once again, but you inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly, trying to keep calm. You couldn't see his face, but Daryl furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

“Wha'd'ya mean, hun'?” Those pet names never failed to make you weak in the knees. “I couldn't ever, ever stop wantin' ya. Ever.” He whispered the last word. As he did so, he traveled one hand down your plump belly, caressing it ever so gently. It almost made you want to cry again.

“Then where did you go? Why'd you leave me? Why'd ya even come back?” Even though you stopped crying, your voice was still unstable.

“...'Cuz ya asked me ta and I... I wanted ta respect yer choice. 'M here now 'cuz... I can't live withoutcha. I... need a second chance.” Now, he was the one with a shaky voice. Seeing him like that broke your heart.

“I told you to leave because I didn't wanna force you to be with me. I didn't...” You gulped. “I didn't wanna baby trap you or something like that, I don't know...” You sniffed. Throughout that whole conversation, you kept your arms stiff. But then, you lifted one of them to wipe your nose with back of your hand.

“...I don' get it.” He mouthed. You sighed, finally turning to look at him. After such a long time, looking into his eyes was a remedy to your infirm heart.

“Look, Daryl, I know I'm not in my best shape, alright? I know this whole 'baby' thing changed me, I know that my body ain't the same anymore. All these stretch marks, my face, my belly, I know it all deforms me and...” He just stood there with an unreadable expression. “...And you have every reason not to find me attractive anymore, and I'm just so sorry that I kept pushing you into having sex with me, I should've just given you some space, I...” Those stubborn tears you've been trying to hold back finally get the best of you. “I'm sorry that I snapped at you, I'm sorry that I've been such a bitch, you... You shouldn't see me like this, and... And I-”

Daryl interrupted your babbling nonsense, grabbing your face with both of his hands and pulling you in for what felt like your first kiss. It was probably the most gentle you've ever been kissed in your whole life. You didn't know you craved the warmth of his calloused hands against your wet cheeks that badly until you had it. Everytime a thick tear dared to run down your beautiful face, he quickly wiped it away with his thumbs. After what felt like an eternity, he slowly broke the kiss, but remained with his forehead pressed against yours.

“Yer the most beautiful woman 've ever seen.” His sweet whispers made you finally feel safe after feeling lost for so long. “N there's nuthin', nuthin' in this world tha' could ever change tha'.” You were left speechless as he contradicted you. “If only ya knew how badly I wanted ta touch ya... It's not easy seein' you walk 'round all heavy with ma babies, knowin' I was the one tha' made ya like this n not bein' able to eat you up alive... God, ya look so...” He let out a guttural grunt. “...So fuckin' hot.”

Your mind was rushing. So this whole time he didn't think you looked terrible? He actually... Liked it? In your head, it made no sense.

“If you wanted me so badly, then why did you reject me over and over again?” There was a very obvious hint of hurt in your voice, like you were trying hard to believe his words but your own insecurities were stopping you. He averted his gaze from your eyes for the first ever since you broke the kiss. For a moment, he looked in a contemplative state.

“I got scared.” He admitted. Your eyes narrowed.

“...Of what?” You asked. What could ever make Daryl, the most brave man you know, scared?

“Hurtin' ya.” You tilted your head, still not convinced of his reasons. Your silence served as a cue for him to resume speaking. “Seein' you like this... I jus' wanted ta protect you. I... I never thought I'd ever have a child of my own 'n... I don' know how ta say this, but...” His thumb brushed against your cheek once again. “...I thought ya were doin' this fer me. I thought maybe, I dunno... Maybe you felt like ya had to be there fer me, y'know, sexually...” He was stuttering and struggling to speak his mind. “I felt like if I said yes... I'd be forcin' ya.” He placed a peck on your soft lips. “But I do wan' ya. 'Ve been wantin' ta have ma way with ya fer so long...” He closed his eyes.

“Then what's stopping you?” You challenged him. You almost felt stupid for thinking he didn't want you that whole time and he was actually just trying to protect you. As those words left your mouth, his eyes snapped open, and suddenly, they had a different aura to them. They were darker.

I'm a swift motion, Daryl pulled you in for another kiss, but this time, a more needy one. Though his touch showed he was aching for you, it was still gentle. He didn't wanna hurt you, after all you were still pregnant.

He gently bit down on your bottom lip, pulling it between his teeth before letting it snap back. His piercing gaze found yours and the way he smirked at you made your body tremble in anticipation.

His hands found the strap of your dress, slightly fidgeting with the tied bow strap over your shoulder just to tease you. And when he finally undid it, your dress slid down your body and onto the floor, revealing your semi-bareness to him.

That's when it kicked again, your self-consciousness taking a hold of you and in a flash, you felt the urge to cover yourself up. Daryl hadn't seen you naked ever since the last time you were intimate together, you two even stopped showering at the same time due to all of the previous misunderstandings. It almost felt like one of those dreams where you're completely naked in school, vulnerably standing in front of the judging eyes of everyone else, even though you were still in your underwear. As you felt your face warming up in embarrasement, you shifted your hands to your swollen breasts and your legs instinctively closed.

Your shy manners didn't go unnoticed by Daryl's attentive eyes. “Hun'...” He brought his hands to your own, softly stroking them until you eased your grasp on your breasts. “Ya can trust me.” He murmured. You took a deep breath and you finally let your hands fall to the side, fully revealing your bra to his sight. A smirk tugged on the corner of his mouth and he looked lost in your beauty.

“God, look at those tits...” He said mainly to himself. The way your breasts were all swollen, all heavy with milk awakened desires within him he didn't even know he had. He reached behind your back to unclasp your bra, removing it and tossing it aside.

He wondered how he was able to deny his attention to those beauties for so long. If he had properly talked to you about his intentions from the beginning, probably none of that misinterpretation would've happened, he thought. But that time wasn't one to mourn, but to cherish. Without warnings, he grasped one of your nipples with his mouth like a starving man while gently but firmly squeezing your other one. You let out a small squeak of pleasure, blushing at his sudden eagerness. Some of your milk leaked, and he was quick to lap at the liquid, wasting none of it. The sweet and mild taste of your essence coated his tongue, sending shock waves of ecstasy all the way down to his cock and in no time, his pants started feeling way too tight. But in that moment, he just wanted to make you feel good and appreciated, so he payed little to no mind to his forming erection.

“Ya taste so fuckin' good.” He groaned against your skin. You were too embarrassed to say anything, but you loved when he talked dirty like that to you, it made your pussy even wetter if that was even possible. He kept his attention to your breasts for a while, teasing, flicking and sucking on them until your nipples felt sore. Then, he made a trail of kisses from your under boob until his lips reached your belly button, slowly sinking down on his knees. He placed soft kisses all over your round belly.

“Look at ya, carryin' ma babies like a good girl.” He looked up at you for a moment, biting his lips at you. You gave him a shy smile, clearly affected by his sweet praising, and he found you so adorable like that. He'd been wanting to put his hands on you for so, so long and he finally had the opportunity to. You looked prettier than ever and he was determined to convince you.

“Let's get ya settled, yea?” And with that, he carefully picked you up bridal style, paying attention not to hurt you. He carried you to the couch, laying you down on it on your back, too eager to go upstairs and to your room, he wanted it there and then. Now, feeling a little more confident thanks to all his praising, your legs instinctively spread themselves out for him, revealing a wet stain on your white panties, clear sign of your arousal.

That sight made a smirk creep on his face, his hands roaming up and down your legs as he pulled them even further apart. “Is this all fer me?” He asked, even though he already knew the answer. You were so visibly surrendered to him, he could see how much you missed him because he shared the same exact longing.

His hands slowly made their way down to your core, his thumb gently rubbing your clit in circling motions over the fabric of your panties. You were so desperate to feel anything that you felt like his most subtle touch could make you cum in the same second. Still, you wanted more. You needed more.

“D-Dar...” You muttered under your breath, throwing your head back as his finger starting working your clit a bit faster and adding a little more pressure. “Wha' is it, doll, hm? Tell me what ya need.” His teasing words only made you more hungry for him. “Mmm...” You protested, struggling to put your desires into words. “C'mon, jus' say the word and I'll give it ta ya.” He encouraged you with the sweetest tone, slowing down his motions against your extremely sensitive clit just to tease you.

“Eat my fucking cunt like you mean it.” You spitted out, your voice all shaky with need, and even you were surprised at your own bold words.

“Don' need ta tell me twice.” He said before pulling your panties to the side in one swift motion and diving into your wetness, quickly starting his assault on your clit and lapping at your folds. He practically buried his face into you, eating you out like it was the last time. Your back arched in that same second and you already felt embarrassingly close to orgasming. He noticed the way you squirmed and moaned for him, grasping his hair with both hands and humping his face, smearing your slickness all over his handsome features.

And he let you use him for your pleasure however you pleased. That night was about you and about making up to all that wasted time. “D-Daryl...!” Your tone was one of warning. You were barely two minutes in but you could already feel the first orgasmic contractions forming in your lower belly. The way you said his name, he knew damn well you were about to make a mess on his face, and he was all in for it.

You threw your head back and let out a loud high-pitched moan as you coated his tongue with your wetness, and all he could do was hum against your sensitive skin, sending vibrations all over your cunt and intensifying the sensation. Despite your first signs of overstimulation, he continued enthusiastically lapping at your juices until you were a quivering mess under his tongue. You had to manually give his head a very gentle push so you could have a break from that intense pleasure. You chuckled at his excitement to please you. If you had ever felt insecure about any of that before, you couldn't remember it.

He lifted his head up, placing tender kisses on your pregnant belly once again, stroking it lovingly. “Ya want me ta fuck ya, darlin'?” He said as he crawled up your body, getting face to face with you. You wrap your arms around his neck, forcing his lips against yours in a sensual dance. “'M takin' that as a yes” He voiced with a hint of playfulness. The thought of being inside you made his cock throb even harder inside his pants, and he knew he just couldn't wait any longer. He reached for his belt, quickly unbuckling it and taking it off. Then, he unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, pushing it down his thighs alongside with his black briefs just enough to free his cock.

Oh, you missed it so fucking badly. You two used to fuck like rabbits before, and after going 4 whole months without getting dicked down by your man, you were more than desperate to feel him. Now, you finally understood your pregnancy wasn't any type of obstacle for sharing pleasure with him.

You stared down at his now visible erection. He was girthy, and you could feel your cunt stretching out just by looking at him. A small droplet of pre-cum threatened to run down his length, from the tip all the way down to his full balls. When you averted your gaze to his face, you could see he was admiring you while you took in the sight of his cock. Your eyes got all sparkly in anticipation, sharing a knowing look with him. You didn't have to say anything and he was always brushing his tip on your slit.

He gently tapped your clit with his tip, watching closely for your reaction, his smirk not fading away not even for one second. Your pussy was so slippery with your wetness that when he pressed his cock against your slit, it went in with ease.

“Fuck.” You moaned in unison. The feeling of his cock going in for the first time was always one of your favorite parts of fucking Daryl. He tried to hold back a little, still careful not to hurt you since you were pregnant after all, but when you wrapped your legs around his waist, he couldn't help but bury his whole cock inside you in one harsh thrust, yearning loud moans from both of you.

You didn't care at all if it hurt or not, you just needed to feel him inside you. He shut his eyes tight and it was obvious that he was fighting the urge to burst right in that same second. He gritted his teeth and leaned in to press his forehead against yours, slowly starting to move his hips. He wasn't exactly thrusting, it was more like humping his cock inside you, which made you grow more and more impatient. You needed him to pound you.

“P-please, Daryl, just... just fuck me already.” The clear frustration on your voice did it for him, and in no time, he started harshly banging his hips against yours, giving you no time to adjust to the pace. Squelching sounds, your moans and the sound of your skins slapping against each other filled the room in a dirty orchestra. The intense smell of sex made you dizzy.

You were so cock-hungry you could fuck that man for days straight without breaks, and as he gently groped your pregnant belly, you knew he wanted you just as much. You couldn't hold back a smile at the sensation of his palms and fingers gently caressing you, contrasting with his hard thrusts inside your pussy.

It was your favorite whenever he treated you like that, with a mix of tenderness and an urge to absolutely rail you. “Fuck, feels so fuckin' good inside this wet cunt.” The archer almost sounded vulnerable. “'M gunna give ya even more babies, princess.” He whispered, his voice a little more high-pitched than usual. The thought of feeling his warm load inside you again made your mind rush and once again, you felt yourself getting closer and closer to your high.

As the pleasure grew more intense, your tight walls clenched around Daryl's thick cock, making his legs tremble as he struggled to keep his composure. “Shit baby, if ya keep squeezin' me tight like tha' 'm not gunna last long.” He admitted through gritted teeth. “Don't hold back, give it to me.” Your encouragement words only fueled Daryl's desires even further.

You felt so full, his thrusts getting deeper and deeper, filling you up to the brim. He was still holding onto your round belly, gently not to hurt you, and when you clenched your cunt around him one last time, he moaned louder than ever before.

“Fuckin' take it!” His whole body was shaking as his orgasm coursed through his body. The sight of him like that was so sexy, so dirty and raw that you couldn't help but squirt all over his cock. You didn't even know you could do that, and Daryl looked just as surprised as you as you drenched his cock and lower belly with your arousal. He buried his length deep inside you one last time as the final spurts of his warm cum coated your insides, keeping that position.

“I love ya, Y/N. Dontcha ever forget that again, woman.” He said, placing sweet little pecks all over your face, making you giggle like a little child. “Yer stuck with me. Both of ya.” His hand never left your pregnant belly that whole time, and now, he gently brushed his thumb on it.

“I love you more.” You confessed, bringing a hand to his cheek to cup it, feeling the rough texture of his salt-and-pepper facial hair against your soft hand. As he slightly shifted his position with his cock still deep inside you, you felt how he was still rock hard and ready for you. After such a long waiting, he wasn't ready to stop just yet.

“Round two?” You asked, already predicting his answer.

“Fuck yeah.”

a/n: hi there!! just passing by to thank you for reading this. i know it's not even close to perfect but it took me 10+ hours to write, so i really appreciate you if you read it this far! as i've said before, i'm a beginner writer, so i'm still on the process of adapting and i'm really thankful for all the support you've been showing me. see ya!

[back2bluesidex]

Standing Next To You - JJK (18+)

Pairing: Idol!Jungkook X Fem!Reader

Theme: PWP, SMUT, Angst, Fluff, established relationship au

Wordcount: 1.2k+

Summary: Your and Jungkook's relationship is all about dark rooms, shadows, rendezvous and secrecy. It pains you to even think that you can't claim him as yours in front of the world. But Jungkook is always there to set your fears free because he loves you even more than you love him.

Warnings: public sex, backstage sex, explicit sex, crying, moaning, dirty talk, spitting, unprotected sex (don't try this at home), creampie, multiple orgasm, Jungkook is whipped. NSFW!!!

Minors are not allowed in this blog!!

A/N: This turned out to be more angsty than I intended it to be lol. But it's spicy regardless.

“Baby please! Just one kiss?” Jungkook whispers right next to your ear. 

“Jungkook… we can’t!” you reply as silently as possible, shoving him a little bit, making sure not to shake up the makeshift changing room. 

“We can. Just a quickie won’t hurt, baby.” He presses his body on yours even more. Your steps falter, being unable to take the weight of his body on yours. 

“Quicky? Are you out of your mind? You are two minutes away from your performance! You wanna exhaust yourself now?” you try to put some senses in his mind, while shoving him away again. But he won’t budge and you are no match for his well-worked-out, manly, buff physique. 

“Come on, Y/N. Please. I beg you.” Jungkook’s mouth already sits on your throat, placing soft and small kisses, which will soon turn into bruising possessiveness painted just for the world to see.

So bad you can’t paint him like you. You can’t claim him to be yours in front of the world. 

Jungkook’s mouth does its part of reaching to your sweet spot and nibbling as hard as he can. 

You hiss. The sensession gathers heat in your stomach.

“Don’t mark me!” you spat at him, a little more harshly than you intended it to be. But you can’t help it. This secrecy of your relationship has been taking a toll on you lately. You have been drowsed into a spiral of overbearing thoughts. The continuous surveillance of his label on your life, your relationship, is unsettling you way too much. 

Jungkook’s pretty eyes widen at your harsh tone. 

It’s new. The way you have been protesting today, almost shoving him away from your body, resisting his kisses and now asking him not to mark you, all of it is new. 

In two years of your secret relationship, it has become pretty usual for you guys to find a rendezvous and claim each other inside shadows. You never had a problem with it… until today. 

“Has anything happened? Did the company do anything again?” Jungkook stares deep into your eyes. Confusions, questions and even fears spill out of his dark orbs. You know if you don’t distract him now, he will read you out and that may hamper his upcoming performance. 

“No-nothing.” your murmur, this time pulling him closer to you, “I signed an NDA, Jungkook. Do you want your label to come after me for sporting your hickeys in front of all the staff and reporters backstage?” 

Jungkook’s skilled hand unbuttons your jeans and slides inside your underwear within a few seconds. Your eyes fall shut as soon as his rough fingers come in contact with your clit. 

Jungkook smirks at your reaction. It’s amazing how contrasting your statements and your reactions are. He knows only he can do this to you. Only he can break your resolve and take away all of your senses. 

“All I want, darling, is” he plunges two of his fingers into your leaking hole while the fat of his thumb draws smooth circles on your clit, “to fuck you raw in front of everyone so that they know you belong to me. I don’t want this secrecy anymore. I want to tell everyone that I am all yours and only yours.” 

Your fingers dig on Jungkook’s naked biceps as he scissors his fingers and stretches your hole out. His words set your heart on overdrive.

“My fat cock drilled you so many times but you are still so tight, fuck! You-” he groans as you moan his name, “you are perfect. I love you so fucking much.” with that he twists his fingers and presses on your g-spot and then within a few seconds you are spasming all over his hands and your underwear. 

“Fuck baby. You cummed so much. You will take me now like a good girl. Won’t you?” He does a quick job of undoing his belt and pants. 

You probably should thank his stylist before heading home. These dress pants and buttoned up vest have elevated his entire look on a different level. The sleeveless vest provides the entire view of his tattooed arm, something that you are totally weak for. You started salivating the moment he emerged from the green room. But before you could compliment him, he was dragging you towards this dingy space. 

Jungkook’s cock springs out of his boxers and slaps against his abdomen. 

Your eyes greedily fall on his erection as he spreads his palm before your mouth. You look up at him feigning innocence.

“Spit.” he orders. And you spit. 

He pumps his length a few times preparing it to lodge inside you. Meanwhile you kick your heels off, strip off your jeans and panties and make yourself ready. 

“Good girl” Jungkook murmurs as he lines his cock on your entrance. Wrapping your hands around his neck, you keep him as close as possible. 

Once Jungkook’s tip is inside your cunt, he pushes the rest in one go. Your body jerks up as an impact, silent curses falling out of your lips. Giving you time to adjust, he unbuttons your blouse, pulls down your bra and sets your tits free. 

“Move now.” you whisper, which Jungkook complies to. 

Your back hits the wall as he thrusts into you roughly making you groan.

His thrusts are so rough and deep right from the start that you start moaning even when you know you should not. Even when you know what the result could be. 

Jungkook winds up one hand around your waist to keep you steady, places another hand on one of your tit massaging it gently and seals his mouth with yours in an earth-shattering kiss. 

His lips are desperate. He raves you with so much passion that you want to cry. Nobody can love you as much as Jungkook and yet you can’t even show off this love. 

His hips are restless. His cock deliciously pounds into your sloppy cunt making it tough for you to even breathe properly. 

He groans into your mouth as you cum for a second time in less than ten minutes, coating his cock with your juices. 

Your orgasm triggers his own and Jungkook unloads himself inside you. Shooting his white, thick, hotness inside you, he paints your walls, claims you in his own way.

“Jungkook, you are next in the line.” his manager screams from outside. There is an annoyance in his tone that suggests that he knows what exactly are you two up to. 

“I’m out in two minutes, hyung.” Jungkook screams back breathlessly. 

You get teary. Jungkook is about to return to his place. He will perform and thousands of souls will fall in love with him yet again. All while you will stand under his shadow, in secrecy, so that no one knows of your existence, of the love that is blooming in between you two.

As if reading your mind, Jungkook opens his mouth to ease your fears, “We'll survive the test of time, Y/N. No matter what the situation is, they can’t deny our love. They can’t divide us. Just a few more days, baby and then I will proudly be standing next to you. I promise.” 

Your tears fall free and he kisses those away. Two pairs of lips meet again as he tries to seal the moment before he leaves you alone for the rest of the night.

Taglist:

@phenomenalgirl9 @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @sukunabitch @chimchimmarie @coffeedepressionsoup @meowstake @vonvi-blog @nochuel @chimmisbae

[satoruxx]

pairing: gojo satoru x reader summary: best friend!satoru is everything to me, fluff, teeny tiny bit angsty, but only bc of pining (my favorite), here to add to my simp satoru agenda, he’s trying his best but reader is oblivious (same), pls notice him rheya’s note: i cant stop thinking about best friend!satoru so i’m here to share this silly little blurb LMAO that’s it enjoy !! part 2

if satoru had known that being your best friend would be this difficult, he would have turned away from you when you said hi to him on your first day at jujutsu high.

it's not that he doesn't care about you. no, quite the opposite actually. he's always cared about you more than he'd like to admit. he can remember the way he used track the eyes of fellow students trailing you when you walked by. he can remember the sting of his nails as they dug into his clenched palms, and how suguru would pat his shoulder sympathetically when he noticed. he was sixteen at the time.

back then it seemed like he would grow out of his teenage crush, after being dismissed as your good friend for so long. but no, just his luck that these stupid feelings would grow and grow until they were tangled up around his very soul. a vice-like grip.

and now almost seven years later, nothing has changed.

"and he told me that if i wanted to be more interesting i should learn to fence, like he does!" you rant, throwing your hands up as you pace the length of his kitchen. satoru leans against the counter, arms crossed as he watches you vent your anger over yet another failed first date.

"uh huh." he acknowledges, trying to stay focused as you continue your annoyed speech. his fingers flex against his biceps, a thinly veiled attempt at controlling his frustration. whether he's frustrated with you or the man you were with, he has no clue.

"then he asked me where i was from, and then said i didn't look like it!" you rage, face hot as you finally unload the frustration you've been carrying all evening.

satoru huffs in mild irritation, trying hard not to roll his eyes. but you hear it and turn to him, half ticked off and half curious. "what was that?"

he clicks his tongue.

"you do this all the time. you always pick guys who treat you like shit. i'm not even surprised anymore." he snaps, a bit more forceful than he intended to be.

there's a silence that follows, and satoru’s unlucky enough to catch the mildly surprised look on your face. he tongues his cheek, brows pinched as he watches your expression fall. an ugly feeling that reminds him suspiciously of guilt rolls around in his stomach.

"you’re right…" you sigh, shoulders slumping as you cross your arms with a defeated shake of your head. "it's just tiring, you know?"

he turns his back to you, reaching across the counter to start slicing up an apple, trying to keep his hands occupied because they're itching to touch you. but he can't keep the bitterness out of his tone when he answers with a clipped, "yeah i know."

he can practically feel your confused stare on his back. but then you chuckle in amusement, mirth clear in your tone. "what do you mean you know? you literally get attention from random people on the street. you can have anyone you want." you laugh.

"are you serious?" he asks, eyes wide with disbelief as he spins around to face you again. you only blink at him, expression so annoyingly clueless it makes him sigh. he turns away from you once again, going back to cutting the apple.

"what?" you cock your head, not understanding why he's so forlorn about it. "most people would jump at the chance to date you. everyone wants you, you know?"

"not everyone. not the one who matters." he mutters bitterly as he places the apple slices onto a plate. you said all of it so casually, like it's supposed to be obvious, but all satoru feels is an overwhelming wave of disappointment wash over him.

"you…never mind." he relents, biting his tongue. "it's not important."

he hears your sharp intake of breath as you gasp, curiosity no doubt brimming in your barely concealed grin.

"ooh interesting! are you telling me you have a thing for someone, toru?" the teasing in your tone is palpable, and satoru feels his stomach flip pleasantly when you say his name. he turns around to face you, letting his shoulders drop as a helpless smile stretches across his face.

he walks up to you, pushing an apple slice past your lips and chuckling quietly. you're still giving him those curious little eyes as you chew, and he tries to swallow down the overwhelming wave of pure affection that threatens to burst from within. clearly today wasn't the day you were going to realize what kind of feelings he's been keeping a secret for so many years.

that's okay. he'll wait as long as you need him to.

he flicks your forehead gently, before reaching down to tug on your cheek. "don't worry your pretty little head about that, sweet thing. you'll figure it out soon enough."

[overtail]

Hey!! Loved your last Zuko smut it was so great! Could you please make another smut where zuko joins gaang but he isn’t fully trusted yet by everyone (except from reader who saw good in him from the beginning) so every night one person keeps an eye on him and when it was reader’s turn thing turned out spicy

I would like female reader who is flirty and teasing because she alert always found him attractive

It’s okay if you don’t want to write this I just saw you asked for requests

Thank you in advance<3

THANK U FOR REQUESTING MUAH MUAH

anyways id love to do that for you hehe :3

sorry if it took a while i was sick when i got the request 😔

got silly while writing this

...

I know you - Zuko x Reader🔞

Summary: She was from the fire nation, he was the heir of it. She grew up thrown to the side, not ever accepting her true powers. When her and the Gaang take in Zuko so he can teach Aang firebending, she trusts him more than the others.

Trigger Warning: NSFW, flirting, arguing, slight bottom Zuko, Semi-public sex, both reader and zuko are awkward turtle ducks

Reader Info: Firebender who can't bend, Female intended, headstrong, flirty

...

"I really don't want to supervise Zuko tonight." Sokka grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Ever since Zuko saved Aang and his friends from 'Combustion Man' or better known as 'Sparky Sparky Boom Man', nobody trusted him to sleep around them without supervision. Well, except (Y/N), but they thought she had some bias since he was fire nation.

Nobody had a single drop of respect for him. Even though he insisted that he, 'was good now', everyone believed he was a spy.

But nobody could blame them.

"I need my beauty sleep." Sokka mimicked a beauty guru as his hands framed his face. "The ladies appreciate a pretty boy."

Katara groaned, rolling her eyes. "It's your turn, Sokka." She crossed her arms, pursing her lips at him. "No one else is gonna-"

"I'll do it!" A voice quickly interrupted. Everyone turned to look at (Y/N), who was standing stiffly. She smiled awkwardly. She pinched at the hem of her pants, stepping forward. "I don't mind doing it.."

Sokka crossed his arms, raising a brow at (Y/N). Everyone was aware of the little 'crush' she had on Zuko. I mean, he was cute, he was angsty, and he was strong. Extremely short, but strong. She always took the chance to tease him.

"I mean, if you insist." Sokka walked away towards his tent, sighing softly in happiness. Rest was one of his most appreciated things in life - behind stuffing his face in food. Maybe it was because he liked the feeling of waking up in the morning, or the interesting dreams he had at night.

No one knew.

"Thanks, Sokka!" She said with a smile waving goodbye to him. "I-I mean, I'll do the job.."

As everyone headed off to their respective sleeping spots, (Y/N) listened to the quiet chirping of the crickets, looking up at the night sky as the stars glimmered. She considered whether or not she should g into Zuko's tent to check up on him (more like poke fun at him.)

While she ended an ear to the sound of the crackling flames coming from. the vampire, she heard the sound of shuffling coming from her left. (Y/N) glanced to the side, seeing Zuko climbing out from the flaps of his tent.

"Oh. Hi." He said awkwardly, holding his hand up in place of a wave. "What are you doing out here?" He questioned, wondering where Sokka was. Zuko was aware of the rotation for their watch party; Aang, Katara, Sokka, and then (Y/N). Toph didn't have the responsibility of watching Zuko since her feet were still injured from when he jumpscared him that night.

"Watching you." (Y/N) tried to play it cool, but a pool of desire filled her heart as she watched Zuko's dark hair fall in front of his amber eyes. He looked so pretty as the firelight shone on his pale skin. She started to grow pink under his gaze.

"Isn't it Sokka's turn?" Zuko stretched, his shirt lifting up to expose his stomach. (Y/N)'s eyes widened at the sight.

"Yeah, but he begged me to take his turn," She lied, rubbing the back of her neck. "he's awfully tired."

Zuko nodded. He began to walk over to the log (Y/N) was sat on. (Y/N) watched as he sat next to her, his pale fingers grazing the hard bark of the seat. It was extremely cold in the area, especially since they were in a semi-cave. After the failed invasion at the palace, they had begun to stay at the western air temple. The infrastructure was odd - upside building lining the roofs of the cave.

"I'm sure you won't mind hangin' out with me." She elbowed him, smirking. "Us being fire nation and all."

Zuko turned to look at her, a brown raised in confusion. "You're from the fire nation?" He asked, tilting his head. It was as if he was inspecting her. "You don't seem like it."

(Y/N) shrugged, glancing up at him. "Yeah. I mean, my family was banished when I was pretty young. But I'm still fire nation." She sighed, resting her chin on her hand, Her elbow dug into the skin of her knee, but she didn't mind. "Do you know Gender Jin?" She asked.

With a nod, Zuko said, "Yeah, why?"

Genera. Jin had been banished from the fire nation twelve years ago, whe Zuko was four. He had committed treason against Azulon, Zuko's grandfather, for having a child with a waterbender. Apparently, he was also accused of planning attacks on the fire nation with the northern water tribe during this time. It was never confirmed, but the speculation was brought up a whole lot.

"That's my Dad." (Y/N) said, sighing softly, Zuko let out a small 'oh', surprised at this.

"Are you-"

"The infamous forbidden child? Yep. Yes-sir-ee." (Y/N) interjected. She already knew what he was going to say. The word was passed around almost the whole world when it happened, since the fire nations grasp infiltrated every nation in some manner. She knew what her name was. She knew what people thought of her.

"The rumors of me being a firebender and a water bender aren't true." Zuko looked at her, surprised that she knew this. "I'm just a plain ole' firebender."

There was an awkward silence between the two. There was not much to say, at least off the top of their heads.

(Y/N) perked up, looking over at Zuko. "Do you think you could teach me some tricks?" She said excitedly. Zuko was caught of guard by this.

"Tricks? What do you mean?" He asked, wanting her to elaborate. He was looking for practice with a firebender lately, so this might be fun.

"Like, could you teach me?" (Y/N) looked away with an embarrassed face. Her father never told her firebending; he wanted her to live a normal life as a kid.

"You mean you don't know anything?" Zuko laughed in disbelief. "Anything at all?"

"Yeah.." (Y/N) grumbled, pursing her lips slightly. "I'm ashamed of it - I can admit it. But I wouldn't mind if you taught me some things." She wiggled her brows, smirking slightly as she glanced at him. Zuko flattened his lips.

"I mean, I don't have much to do." Zuko pushed off of the seat, leaning forward and standing up fully. He glanced down at (Y/N). He reached his hand out, offering it to her. "Come on."

...

They walked into a small clearing, the cold night wind blowing their hair back and forth. They had climbed above the cliff the western air temple hung from, where a large valley rested.

Zuko had removed the robe that hung over his clothes. His arms were exposed, small goosebumps lining his arms.

(Y/N)'s eyes graced his body, her face growing red from both the cold air and his body.

"Already undressing?" She teased, crossing her arms and grinning. "Take me out to dinner first."

Zuko glanced over to her, a frown appearing on his face. "W-what?" He said, shifting uncomfortably.

"I mean, I get that I'm the prettiest girl here - no offense to Katara." (Y/N) walked over, smirking. "but you barely know me Prince Zuko." She poked him on the chest jokingly. (Y/N) leaned on her legs her hip popping out.

Zuko huffed out a fiery breath (no pun intended), looking to the side. "Do you want to learn or not?"

(Y/N)'s eyes widened. She stepped back, nodding in agreement. "Yeah, yeah." She shook her arms nervously, stepping back and getting into a fighting stance.

"Fire bending is all about- what are you doing?" Zuko stopped mid sentence, looking at (Y/N).

"Uhm, getting into a stance?" She said awkwardly, looking to the ground.

"No, no. You're to open." Zuko stepped forward. He grabbed her wrists, pulling them down in front of her chest. "You're leaving your body open to hits." He walked behind her, putting his hands on her shoulders.

She shivered, the feeling of his fingers gracing her skin. (Y/N) leaned into the touch, his palms touching the lower part of her shoulders. "You opponents have the opportunity to knock you to the ground." Zuko placed his right foot on the inside of her legs. The toe of his shoe pressed against the heel of her foot, pushing it slightly.

"You want to be low.." He whispered into her neck, pushing her shoulders down so she was more level to the ground.

Was he doing this on purpose? (Y/N)'s heartbeat was audible in her ears, but she wasn't the only one who's blood was pumping from this interaction.

As she moved down her backside rubbed against Zuko's crotch lightly. He let out a small gasp, his eye twitching at the feeling.

(Y/N) smirked at the sound, realizing the affect she had on Zuko. What could she do with this? A lonely teenage boy? She was sure he wouldn't mind.

"Ope, sorry Zuko." She said slyly. She bent her knees even more, her ass pushing onto Zuko's growing erection.

Zuko shifted back uncomfortably, their contact breaking.

(Y/N) turned around, standing up fully. "Oh c'mon Zuko, i need you to show me how to do this." She smirked, her foot digging into the grass.

"I know what you're doing." Zuko said, his face growing red under the pale moonlight. His eyes scanned her, and unimpressed looked overcoming him.

"What am I doing?" She teased, a finger pressing onto Zuko's chest. "Tell me."

Zuko's face held a look of frustration. His eyes met hers, his eyebrows furrowing together. There was a hot tension between the two of them, healing the goosebumps on their skin from the cold night air.

The digit placed on his chest soon turned into (Y/N)'s entire hand. She took a step closer to him, causing Zuko to let out a shaky breath.

Even with her confidant pseudo, (Y/N)'s stomach was filled with a nervous sickness. She had no idea what she was doing - letting her desire lead her.

"You're trying to turn me on." Zuko muttered, keeping his voice low.

"It's working though, isn't it?" (Y/N) barked back.

Zuko's face flushed slightly, clearly caught off guard by your boldness. "I assure you, that wasn't my intention. Now if you'll excuse me..."

"No. Zuko, come on.." She said, a shaky breath huffing from my red nose. "Were so alike."

Zuko hesitated for a moment, his gaze flickering between you and the ground. "How so?"

"Were both refugees from a country that thrived on evil." Her arm traveled from his chest to his arm. (Y/N) watched as he flinched slightly. Her eyes made contact with his. "And you know what Sokka says about us behind our backs."

Zuko swallowed hard, his heart racing as he felt your touch. He knew what Sokka thought of them - that they were both damaged goods from a twisted world. Despite the danger and uncertainty, there was something undeniably compelling about this connection.

"I like you Zuko." She said, smiling softly. Her seductive shell cracked, shower her sweetness hidden inside.

Zuko looked into her eyes, feeling a familiar pain in his heart. Here was someone else who knew what it was like to be an outcast, to carry the burden of a nation's sins. "I like you too," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

"I trust you, too." She sighed, squeezing his arm gently. "They didn't trust me either at first."

Zuko's heart skipped a beat at her words. Trust was a rare and precious thing in their world, where betrayal lurked around every corner. But she was offering it to him freely, without judgment or fear. "Thank you," he breathed out softly.

She leaned forward, placing a soft peck on Zuko's lips. A warm feeling flooded through their bodies, the world around them feeling almost unrecognizable as they sat in the moment.

Zuko froze for a moment, shocked by the unexpected kiss. But as he felt her lips on his, he found himself responding, leaning in to deepen the kiss. The warmth spread through him, filling the cold void that had been there for so long.

She grabbed his face, bringing him down to kiss Zuko deeply. (Y/N) let out a huff from her nose, letting her fingers comb through Zuko's dark hair.

Zuko's hands found their way to her waist, pulling (Y/N) closer as he kissed her back with all the pent-up longing and desire that had been building inside him for so long.

As the kiss deepened, Zuko felt a fire ignite within him, burning away the coldness and isolation that had defined his life for so long. He wrapped his arms around (Y/N), pulling her closer still as he explored her mouth with his tongue, tasting her sweetness.

As she broke away from the kiss, their breaths mingled in the air between them. Zuko felt his heart racing, a wild and unfamiliar sensation.

Zuko looked into her eyes, seeing a reflection of his own turmoil and desire. He couldn't believe what was happening, but he didn't want it to stop. His hands roamed down her back, pulling her even closer as he whispered, "I need you."

"Show me." She whispered, leaning up to kiss him again.

Zuko dragged her onto the grass with him, never breaking the kiss.

Zuko pulled her onto his lap, cradling her body against his as he deepened the kiss once more. His hands trailed down (Y/N)'s sides, pushing up her shirt to reveal her soft skin beneath.

Feeling emboldened by her invitation and his own burning need, Zuko slid his hands underneath her shirt, tracing circles on her bare back. His lips moved hungrily against hers as he lost himself in the sensation of her skin against his fingertips.

Zuko's hands continued their exploration, moving lower to grasp her hips as he pulled her even closer. He could feel the heat between her legs, and it fueled his desire even more.

With a groan, Zuko slipped his hand beneath her shorts, feeling the softness of her thighs and the wetness between them. He couldn't believe how much he wanted her, how badly he needed to be inside (Y/N).

"Shit, Zuko.." She said between heated kisses, fingers pulling at his soft hair.

Zuko growled against her lips as he continued to touch her, his other hand sliding up (Y/N)'s leg to knead at her ass cheek. He could feel himself growing hard against her leg and he knew he had to have her soon.

"This isn't how I expected this night to go." She played with Zuko, his lips connecting with the soft skin of her neck.

Zuko chuckled breathlessly, his lips trailing down her neck to nibble at her collarbone. "Neither did I," he admitted, his voice husky with desire.

"Is this how you practice back home?" (Y/N) said, her feet digging in the dirt behind Zuko.

Zuko laughed softly against her skin. "No," he replied, his voice still rough with lust. "But I think I'd like to make it a regular practice here."

(Y/N) moaned slightly when Zuko's hips bucked into hers. "Ill watch over you more often then."

Zuko's eyes darkened with desire as he heard her words, and he couldn't resist bucking his hips against hers a little harder. "I'd like that," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

As she pulled back a little, Zuko took the opportunity to stand up, his hands sliding up her back to grip your shoulders. He looked down at her with an intense gaze, his eyes full of the burning passion that had overtaken him. "Take me to your bed,"

"We can't. We'll wake the others." She smirked, grabbing onto Zuko's wrist.

A growl rumbled in Zuko's chest at the reminder of their surroundings. But he knew she was right. Reluctantly, he nodded. "Then we'll make do with this," he said, reaching down to scoop (Y/N) up in his arms.

Zuko's heart was racing as he carried you deep into the nearby forest, away from the edge of the cliff. "To a quiet spot," he replied, his voice low and gravelly with desire. "A place where we can be even more alone."

He came to a small clearing where the trees thinned out, revealing a bed of soft moss and leaves. Gently, he lowered (Y/N) down onto it, his hands lingering on her hips for a moment before he joined her, pressing his body against hers.

(Y/N) pulled down her shorts and underwear, the cold hair hitting her exposed sex.

"Just get on with it, Zuko." She groaned, rolling her eyes.

Zuko chuckled softly against your lips before pulling back slightly to give you a teasing grin. "Always so impatient," he teased as he slowly unbuttoned his pants, sliding down his pants along with his boxers. He sprang free, a bead of pre-cum on his tip.

"Spirits.." She whispered at the sight of him, how he was throbbing at the sight of her.

Zuko's gaze locked onto yours as he positioned himself between her legs, his hard length rubbing against her slick entrance. "You ready for me?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"You tell me."

With a groan, Zuko pushed forward, slowly entering (Y/N). Her tight heat enveloped him, and he fought the urge to slam all the way inside. Instead, he began to move in and out of her slowly, enjoying the sensation of being joined with her.

(Y/N)'s hands found their way to his chest, and she leaned into him, moaning softly. The feeling of being filled by him was indescribable, and as he picked up speed, driving deeper inside her with each thrust, she felt herself getting closer to the edge.

She could feel Zuko's muscles tensing as he neared his climax, his thrusts becoming more erratic and forceful. His other hand found its way to her clit, massaging it gently as he continued to pound into her. "I'm close."

"Already?" She teased, trying to maintain a sarcastic demeaner as she let out erratic moans.

With a chuckle, Zuko leaned down to kiss her again as he pulled almost all the way out of her before slamming back in. "You like that?" he asked breathlessly.

She screamed, her nails scratching at Zuko's back until white marks appeared - lighter than his skin.

Feeling her nails dig into his skin, Zuko lost control completely. With a primal growl, he pushed her down onto the ground and continued to pound into her, taking what he wanted with no regard for her comfort or pleasure.

He was like a rabid animal, like this was the thing he needed to live.

Her screams of pleasure and pain echoed through the forest as Zuko continued to take her roughly, losing himself in the sensation of being inside her. He could feel his release building, and he knew he wouldn't be able to hold out much longer.

"Zuko!" She clenched around him, being pulled over the edge as she shook. Her orgasm washed over her, (Y/N)'s eyes clenching tightly.

Feeling her walls clenching around him, Zuko let out a guttural moan as he emptied himself inside her. His thrusts became erratic and forceful, his body shaking with the intensity of his orgasm.

Finally, Zuko's movements slowed down, and he collapsed beside her, panting heavily. His heartbeat slowly returned to normal as he nuzzled into her neck, still inside her. "That was... intense," he whispered against her skin.

"Ya think?" Her chest rose up and down as she still huffed. (Y/N) tried to catch her breath, but she was sweating from the intensity.

Zuko chuckled softly, feeling his cock twitch inside her. "I think," he said with a smirk. After a few moments, he pulled out of her and rolled onto his side, still panting heavily. "So... how do you feel?"

(Y/N) faked a deep thought for a moment, looking away from him. "Eh. It was fine." She smirked at him, causing Zuko to roll his eyes.

"So.. you were scratching at my back because you hated it so much?" He played, kissing her neck softly.

"For sure." She sighed, playing with his hair.

The two teens lay there, panting heavily as the moonlight illuminated their skin. Their bodies were tangled but not in a hurry to separate. Despite the awkwardness of the situation, their need for each other overruled everything. They could return in the morning, nobody would notice - right?

...

[jacaerysgf]

Hi, how are you? A Headcanon of what it would be like to be Jacaerys' second wife (Baela being the first) and to spice it up a bit, the reader being the daughter Alicent

a.n: made this a lot more angsty (even tho its like not) as intended lmao but i hope you enjoy 🫶🫶

- baela had died during childbirth, her daughter having survived

- the first time you spoke to him since his wedding was at the funeral, which he barely said more than a word to you, cradling his daughter tightly in his arms

- you two were the best of friends as children

- you have loved him since you were a young girl and was devastated to hear of their engagement

- you begged and begged your mother to betroth you to him but she continued to refuse until it had been too late

- they loved each other so much which broke your heart

- you fled westeros as soon as the wedding had ended, choosing to instead spend your days in essos trying to forget about the dark eyed prince

- yet when you return he is only more handsome then when you had left

- you stay as far away from him as possible, he was so clearly grieving and you had not wished to disturb him

- you thought that would be it so late in the night with bag and hand you try to leave only to be shocked at the sight of jacaerys standing in the empty hall, clutching his cloak around himself as he stared at you

- he begged you not to go, to return to the keep with him even if its just for a little while

- it was so clear he needed someone so you agreed with much hesitation

- you tell yourself you will only stay for a week

- then a week becomes two then two becomes a month then a month becomes a year becomes two and suddenly you are living full time in the keep

- You two become close friends and you continue pushing down that deep deep feeling in your heart as you believe he will never feel the same

- yet one night you stand in the nursery, sitting on the floor giggling with the young laena who hits the blocks against each other until jacaerys shows up

- he urges a maid to come and put laena down to bed, you insist you can do it but he asks you to stay

- that is the night he kisses you for the first time

- you stop him just as quickly believing it to be a heat of the moment act

- “i did not think you would be so cruel. you must know of my affections.”

- “i am in love with you.”

- Your wedding happens a fortnight from then

- your mother was furious, she had wished for you to marry someone, someone that was not of his kind she said

- and you blew up on her

- he had heard you and as soon as you had stormed out of the room he pulled you into a dark corridor and kissed you until your legs were shaking, for more then one reason

- his family was more then happy to welcome you into their side, you became fast friends with lucerys and joffrey and due to your experience in taking care of laena you help out with aegon and viserys which puts you in the good graces of daemon

- your family however was way more reluctant about your union, taking this opportunity to tease you about your marriage to the “strong” boy. your grandsire had even managed to corner you and attempt to pursued you to break off the engagement to which you quickly shut that down

- you did not care much for your familys feelings when you were more than happy

- your wedding went smoothly and you ended up having a mini honeymoon period in dragonstone where in a few months time you and jacaerys would be living

- when he had been informed you were pregnant three moons after your wedding he turned pale

- he even begun to flat out ignore you until you confronted him and told him you would not tolerate this and he snapped out of it

- he was scared. so scared he would have to suffer through the same pain he had those years ago but you reassured him everything would be okay

- though when you were laying on the bed covered in sweat and breathing heavily he was not too sure

- he demanded he be in the room, not allowing himself to make the same mistake as last time

- he let you grip his hand so hard he thought it would pop but it was not enough to distract him from the fear he felt as he looked at you, the women he was so in love with, in so much pain

- when cries fill the room and a babe is placed in your arms he finally allows himself to cry, you had a boy.

- He snarled at the maesters when they tried to put him in his arms first or when they asked him what he would like to name him

- he was furious at the disrespect you were facing but you did not care.

- “what about laenor?” You look up at him and smile

- he places a kiss on your forehead as he beams down at the babe. “its perfect.”

---

not tagging my perm taglist just cause this is something rlly small 😭😭

[eureka-its-zico]

Chaos in Their Bones Ch. 5

Ongoing Series

Synopsis: All your life you’d listened to your friend, Usopp spin wild tales about pirates and adventure. Pirates weren’t a thing that came often to Syrup Village, but one straw hat pirate and his crew changed all that the day they arrived. Now, you aren’t so sure if your sleepy little village was always pirate-free or if no one had been paying attention.  

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x Reader

Genre: friends to lovers, frenemies to lovers, slow burn (I hope y’all like aching) eventual smut

Words: 15.7+

A/N:  This chapter got waaaaaay ahead of me. It got longer and longer without me realizing it. So, I apologize for the length in advance and if this isn't any good. In the anime, Nami has some wild outfits and I wanted to sort of bring that to this adaptation a little. Nothing too crazy, but still Nami anime-esque. Also, don’t shoot me but I had a little creative liberty with something in here it’s not canon so yeaaaaaa…please just indulge me for the story lol. Also, this has another Zoro POV, and from here on out things will be very angsty, because I am the proclaimed mayor of Angstville, courtesy of @chans-room and it is my duty to bring a little to the next few chapters.  As always, thank you, guys, for all the love and support. For always being so kind and loving it as much as you do. I hope you all continue to enjoy this story🖤 Much Love, Jenn

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Previous Next

“Hey Nami?” 

You hoped the widespread dread you were beginning to feel wasn’t that apparent in your tone as you spoke. You did one last check in the mirror before turning to her reply of, “Hmmm?”

“Not to look a gift horse in the mouth, but-“

“But?”

God, she looked amused. 

“Is this supposed to be so…short?”

There was no denying Nami liked clothes. Gold. Berry. Okay, so Nami likes shiny things and things that could also buy her the shiny things. She also seemed to have a flair for fashion. Unfortunately, that fashion was intended to be worn on someone with a bit more confidence than you had. For once, you’d wished you’d paid attention to other things outside of just the components of what made up a plant. 

“You don’t like what I picked.” 

“It’s not that I don’t like it,” you stuttered out. “But this skirt is definitely…short.”

In one smooth move, Nami uncrossed her legs and got up from her seat. When she reached you, her hands grabbed your shoulders and gently turned you back to the mirror. Your reflections showed one woman questioning her whole existence because of a skirt with a corset style top, and one who looked confident in everything she did. 

This time you were definitely not the latter. 

“You look hot.” 

“I look ridiculous and I’m afraid to bend over.”

Nami rolled her eyes so hard for a split second all that you saw was white. The hands that were on your shoulders now forcing you to turn from your reflected look of terror to her. Nami’s eyes shown bright with a determination to make you confident in walking out of her room and heading into the restaurant. 

“Doc, do we need to do an affirmation together.” 

“Absolutely not.”

“Then I need you to shake off whatever thoughts you’re having and realize that you are hot. Be confident in your own body.” 

To send her words home, Nami clapped her hands against your shoulders and gave them one last shake before releasing you. You weren’t sure what to do or say after that so you just stood…staring back at her. 

“Are you going to blink?”

“Sorry,” you hummed, shaking your head. “I was still trying to understand why you get a whole shirt and I get this.”

While her pink and tan outfit was tight and showed a good amount, her small eyelet cut out on her shirt barely showed, if any, cleavage. You felt like a bakery with the amount of buns you were selling.  

There was that eye roll again. 

“Oh my god,” she muttered under her breath. “You are impossible.”

Nami appeared to be tired of trying and turned on her heel to go over to a drawer. You weren’t sure what she was doing - or grabbing - but instead of watching her, you found your eyes drifting back to the mirror. You didn’t look bad just…different. You weren’t used to looking hot, as Nami put it but also so exposed. You reached over and grabbed your satchel and placed it over your shoulder, using it like a security blanket. All it did was make you feel more exposed than before, like a fraud wearing your face but dressed as someone more confident than you’d felt. 

The sound of a drawer shutting hard brought you out of your thoughts and back into the present. It didn’t keep your hands from wringing the strap on your satchel. 

Fuck it

“Hey, Nami do you think-“

“Zoro is going to like it? Yeah. I think he won’t be able to keep his eyes off you.”

You felt like the air had been stripped from your lungs. Your eyes no doubt were large and showing your surprise as you struggled to make words formulate on your tongue.

“Okay, that wasn’t what I was going to ask.”

“It wasn’t?” She teased. 

“You know damn well I was going to ask something else.”

Why does she look so smug? 

No. You were not frowning. 

“Okay, then tell me: what were you going to ask?”

“I suddenly can no longer recall.”

Nami’s smile was joined seconds later with laughter that followed behind you as you tried to make your escape. The sound of very happy feet following closely behind at your heels. You were tempted to look back just to see if she was skipping, but her next teasing words sent you up the stairs two at a time. 

“Sure you don’t.”

“You can’t prove it,” you shot back just as you cleared the stairs. 

The sun was a welcome warmth on your skin after days of being covered in the mist of the fog. The sounds of happy banter between Usopp and Luffy sent you walking towards the main belly of the ship. You could see Usopp dressed in a pirate hat, a leather jacket sans the shirt, and matching pants. A pair of circle sunglasses adorned his face and you had to admit he looked pretty cool. Luffy just made you want to reach over and gently pinch his cheeks.

How is anyone supposed to take him seriously…

He was wearing overalls, for Christ sakes. Luffy looked absolutely adorable. 

At the sound of your approach the guys turned towards you and the reaction you received made you want to throttle Nami. Luffy’s smile faltered ever slightly and Usopp wouldn’t even look you in the eye. 

“Hey Doc, you look-ugh different.”

“Gee, thanks Usopp,” you grumbled. 

“Are you guys done playing dress up so we can get a drink?”

Of course he was more interested in a drink than food. Of course, Zoro sounded like his usual grumpy self, as well. The problem? He didn’t look like his usual grumpy self. 

While Zoro had been wearing t-shirts and jeans - things that looked comfy and regular the past few days - it was replaced with something dangerous. The hue of his kimono style shirt was a blue so deep it could’ve come from the ocean itself. 

The most dangerous part about the shirt wasn’t just that it left a devilish window of skin on his chest available to torment your eyes. It was that same v-shaped window indicated the indent of a sculpted chest and collarbones, but the fabric at his arms hugged the muscles tight. The same strong arms you’d watch do repeated reps with weights and push-ups. Muscles that moved with ease under the skin as he skillfully practiced with his swords.

The dangerous part, after all of this, was that it mimicked a gi. The fabric folded over each other telling you that it would only take a slight tug from your hand to release the tucked material from his pants, from the safety of his sashed belt to leave his chest exposed to your hands and-

God, focus on something else. 

But you couldn’t focus on anything else. How could you with the way he was looking at you? 

Zoro’s eyes scanned over your body and every inch his gaze lingered caused your skin to flush. You fought the urge to fidget with the strap of your satchel but couldn’t stop your teeth from pulling in your bottom lip. Zoro’s eyes caught the movement and honed in on it. Your breath hitched in your throat and you could’ve sworn Zoro noticed that too. 

You were supposed to dislike him. He was an asshole. A drunk. A pain in the ass with a smart mouth. God, it didn’t stop you from wanting him so bad your body ached. From the way he was watching you, you could’ve sworn maybe it felt the same for him. It was a nice thought until he opened his mouth. 

“You’re going to wear that?”

And just like that, whatever witchcraft was in the air to make you think of doing anything other than annoying the shit out of him was gone. 

“I think she looks good.”

Nami came to stand beside you and tore Zoro’s eyes from you to her. 

“Yeah she does,” Usopp agreed from behind you, “but Naan would have a fit if she saw you dressed like this.”

A groan exhaled from your lips as you turned and started for the ramp. No, you were not stomping your feet. You just needed to get off this damn boat and away from all the idiot men aboard. 

“Good thing Naan isn’t here, then,” you huffed. 

You could practically feel Usopp shrug his shoulders, his hands up in question as he yelled after you, “I was just being honest. Naan would tell her it wasn’t practical.” 

You weren’t sure who he said the last part too and you didn’t care. You were already stepping over the side of the Merry and heading towards the ramp when you felt a presence behind you. You expected it to be Nami and what you got was the shock of seeing Moss colored hair and the glint of three gold earrings. 

“What are you doing?”

“I’m walking. What does it look like?” 

But why must you do it next to me?

The question hung on the back of your tongue. You weren’t brave enough to ask it, because you could already hear the question of, “Why?”. Why did it matter if Zoro chose to walk beside, in front, or behind you? It shouldn’t matter what he chose to do, but it did matter because the way he looked at you just now was forever burned into your frontal lobe.

“Just this once you couldn’t just leave the swords on the ship?”

“Wherever I go the Wado Ichimonji goes.”

Of course it does

You expected him to do his usual of falling back to stand with Luffy. It’s what he usually did. Today was apparently shaping up to be an unusual one. Not only did he not stop walking with you, he continued to follow close behind you as you entered into the Baratie. His presence was hard to miss since when you stopped inside the foray of the restaurant Zoro was mere inches from your back. 

“Must you stand so damn close to me?” 

Each word was uttered through clenched teeth. You didn’t want to turn around and look at him. You didn’t need eyes in the back of your head to know if you did you would come fast first to the exposed skin of his chest. 

“Why’d you bring your satchel in here? Are you worried someone is going to stub their toe?”

“Can you for two seconds-“

The words had come out as a growl. Your skin bristled with a heated irritation to rip into him, and tell him that he was being his infamous asshole self. Cool points went to you for not completely falling apart when you caught sight of him. 

Zoro was too damn close looking how he looked with his chest exposed like that. His hands in their rightful place of one in his pocket and the other resting casually on his sword. The darkness of his eyes appeared so endless you were certain the moon could call them home. Maybe she already had and that’s why they sparked to life every time he looked at you. 

Just like now. 

One minute, Zoro’s face held its usual emotionless stare and the next you watched as his eyes lit up like fireworks in the night sky; celebrating an event you once again missed. A soft tug on the corner of his lip lifted just enough you could’ve called it a smirk. 

When did he start looking at you like this?

That wasn’t even the biggest question. The biggest question was, when did you start to fall for it? 

You felt your tongue involuntarily flick out to wet your suddenly dry lips, and to your horror Zoro’s eyes lazily watched the movement. He didn’t even try to hide it. 

Oh god, you should’ve stayed on the boat.

You watched Nami come through the double doors entrance and the way her face lit up as her eyes roamed between the both of you instantly sent your eyes rolling. You were never going to hear the end of this. You let out a deep breath, your eyes scanning one last time in his direction, before you walked over to join Nami. 

The Baratie was a thing of beauty. You’d never seen a building like it. While the outside was made of boards of broken down ships in the style of an actual fish, red siding and white ashwood for those fishy lips, the inside was a well thought out piece of beauty. The foray split open to a staircase of cherry wood that led down to a tiled floor of checkered black and white. It should’ve looked ridiculous, but only the center was made with these tiles. The rest was made with the continued us of the cherry wood that led up to an intricate painting on the ceiling. Sections of the fish's belly were carved out into long booths that looked like they could comfortably seat a party of eight. 

Also, the smell of the food was making you almost willing to grovel to get a plate because there was no way- 

“Welcome to Baratie. How may I help you?”

The fishman was polite enough with his semi-warm smile. It was the smile of a man forced to be approachable and nice all day, and not one that he meant. 

“Hi. Where do we eat?”

Luffy’s smile on the other hand could make a rainbow weep. 

“Do you have a reservation, sir?”

Yup. There was no way you guys could afford a place like this or apparently even have the chance to get in. You could feel your shoulders deflate as you walked over to the railing and leaned your arms against it. All the people dining - all the pirates - didn’t appear the least bit phased at your staring. Luffy pressed himself shoulder-to-shoulder with you with the two of you taking in the fancy scene before you. 

To be fair, with food like what they were being served you wouldn’t care who watched you stuff your face either. 

“Do we need one?” 

Your forehead had already relocated itself to the cool wood of the rail. Your knees meeting the metal as you tried not to laugh at how cluelessly innocent Luffy was. 

“We are very full today. I could put you on the waiting list. It’s three weeks out.” 

“Maybe you want to check your book again.” Usopp walked forward, as confident as ever, and leaned himself against the hostess podium. You were expecting one of his smooth stories and instead wanted to throw yourself over the side of the railing as he finished. “You wouldn’t want to turn away the future King of the Pirates, would you?”

“And who is that supposed to be, sir?”

“Monkey D. Luffy. Perhaps you’ve heard of him?”

Based on the heavy sigh that came from the hostess you could tell his patience was wearing thin. So was his pleasantness. 

“Well, in that case, I suppose we could find you a table. In three weeks.”

Usopp came to stand beside you with a smile as big as the ocean blue on his face. He was so proud, like he’d accomplished something major. Usopp had both the ability to create bullshit from thin air, and the ability to believe others would believe what he said without question. That’s why he was giving you the finger gun of celebration without noticing the look on the hostess face - or the mumbled words. 

“Even out here, Doc I still got it.”

“Yeah, I can see that.”

You noticed Nami move forward as Luffy conjoined himself to your other available side. You were now perfectly sandwiched between your Captain and your best friend. Both of them jumping in giddy excitement at the idea of sitting down at any minute and eating. 

“What are you going to eat, Doc?”

“I hadn’t thought about it, yet. I didn’t think we’d get past the front door.”

“Why is that?”

“She’s always been a little cynical ever since we were kids.”

You balked at Usopp’s admission and if you could’ve scoffed any louder it would’ve turned into a cough. 

“I am not cynical!”

“You are literally one of the most cynical people I’ve ever met.”

“That’s because I’m one of the few people you’ve ever met who still talks to you,” you grumbled. 

“See? That cynicism is turning its ugly little head right now. It’s okay, Doc. I forgive you.”

Your mouth was open, a reply stationed on your tongue, when you heard something shocking behind you. The hostess was advising Nami to follow after him and when you glanced at her as she smiled at Zoro, you wondered what had been said. All it took was for Usopp to see him beckoning for them to follow for his ego to be boosted. His hands clapping happily against yours and Luffy’s shoulders as he giggled out, “See, I told you it would work.” 

You peeled yourself from the railing and headed to follow the rest of the crew when, once again, you realized Zoro was waiting at the stairs edge. He wasn’t looking at you while he waited, however, for his eyes were glued to the many possibilities of would be threats in the room. 

As soon as your feet touched down on the burgundy runner that ran the length of the stairs Zoro followed after. It wasn’t like the last time when you could feel him practically right on your heels. A switch had turned on in his head and Zoro was on high alert. 

Luffy took the last step in a loud double-footed jump that finally brought the attention of most of the tables to your descent. While up top, looking down from the foray, the space in the booth’s had looked massive. It still was, but a startling realization that you could end up next to Zoro left you scrambling for some space. 

“I have to pee.”

You’d just gotten to the tables edge and it felt like the only thing to say to save yourself. Everyone froze for all of a few seconds before they continued scooting into the booth. 

“Okay, Doc. Go to the bathroom,” Nami stated. 

She looked so relaxed that you felt incredibly jealous. You wish you could be that cool, calm, and collected all the time. Except, obviously, when Luffy was testing her patience. 

You turned to ask the host where it could be located when the sound of Zoro’s swords thrashing around turned your head in his direction. For a split second, he looked a little flushed. His eyes scanning the room to see if anyone had watched him try and fail, very badly, at getting his swords to go inside the booth. 

“Just take them off,” you huffed at him in passing. 

“I’ve got this.”

Zoro’s eyes were still trained on the room, on every pair of eyes that dared to stare back, as he moved to the other side with Nami. Even then you watched him struggle to move his swords into the alcove between the pillar and the seat. 

“If you still need to use the facilities Miss, they will be right this way.” 

You gave the table with Luffy and your crew mates one last look before you followed the host closely to the safety behind a locked door. 

Did locking the door seem a bit much when there were four available stalls inside? Yes. When you say you needed to hear that click to signify that you were completely alone to ease some of the growing tension in your shoulders, you meant it. 

You rushed over to the sink and found your hands grabbing at the porcelain to help center yourself. Your head was dizzy from the mental whiplash that seemed to be your relationship with Zoro. One minute, you couldn’t stand him and he seemed equally annoyed with your very existence. The next, he was helping you with your sea sickness or inadvertently doing things around the ship to make your life a little easier. Now, he was looking at you differently. Zoro was acting strange, but honestly, when wasn’t he? 

You glanced up at your reflection in the mirror. The words falling automatically from your lips. 

“So are you.” 

It wasn’t all him. It never was. Cause and effect. One couldn’t exist without the other, and maybe that was why you felt the way you did gazing at your reflection. You’d been trying to deny the gravitational pull that you were hopelessly fighting against ever since you met him. Before you’d ever seen his face your soul seemed to say, “Oh, there you are.” 

It wasn’t possible. It wasn’t scientific and yet here you were locked inside of a bathroom all because the thought of sitting next to him made your heart feel like it would try and flee your chest. 

You allowed yourself a couple more minutes to boost yourself back up. You could do this. It was just a guy. A guy who’d tucked a flower behind your ear and looked at you like you’d both strung up the stars and drank the last bottle of his rum. 

A knock on the bathroom door brought you crashing back to reality. You quickly moved over to the door to release the latch. You’d barely had any time to move back before a woman came barreling through looking not too pleased with you locking the door. You mouthed a, “sorry,” in a way of apology before you made yourself scarce and walked back out to the table. 

The minute you stepped back into the main dining room you got the sense you’d missed something. Your eyes searched over the tables. You found a pair of shoes that belonged to a pair of legs that was attached to a man lying lifelessly still on the floor. 

Yup. You’d most definitely missed something. 

The doctor in you immediately wanted to go to the man and make sure he wasn’t dead. You could practically feel your toes point in the direction for the rest of your body to follow. You just weren’t sure if it was something you should do in a room full of pirates. Plus, no one else seemed particularly worried that he wasn’t breathing so that should be good enough for you. 

You were bouncing on your feet. You wanted to go check so badly. It almost happened to where you were going to say fuck it and just go check when you noticed your waiter at your table. He was tall, strong build set inside a stylish suit with stark white hair that appeared to reach his cheeks. He didn’t look happy to be there until his eyes spotted Nami and a smile as smooth as sin slid across his face. 

He is handsome. 

Nami looked unimpressed and a part of you was dying to know what the hell was happening. Luckily for you, you were about to find out. 

As you approached the table Zoro’s eyes that had narrowed in on their waiter flicked to your oncoming approach and…did he look worried? The annoyance that had hardened his eyes noticeably softened, his back sitting up straighter in his seat while he continued to watch you come to the table. He had his arms crossed over his chest and you wanted to scream. Everything was flexing at you and it just felt like the universe was incredibly unfair. 

“Sorry guys. Uhm have you guys noticed the ugh guy just laying there on the floor” you stated. 

You were looking. Again. 

You were standing next to the waiter who turned to greet you, his hands tucked in his pockets - fuckin great another one. The smile had wilted at the edges until his eyes fell on you and instantly he flashed a set of pretty teeth. 

“They’re alright, madam. Just a couple of men who needed to be reminded of the rules of the house. My name is Sanji and I’ll be your waiter for this evening. Is there anything that I can get you to start? Appetizers? A drink, perhaps?”

Sanji was incredibly polite and his accent was as smooth as the rest of him. His eyes were impossibly blue. While Nami’s appeared almost gray at times, especially when she became upset and the color darkened like storm clouds, Sanji’s reminded you of azure aster’s in the spring. 

“What is the strongest thing you have?”

You really could use that drink. You were in the middle of taking your satchel from across your body, eyes scoping to see where you would sit, when Sanji’s reply stopped you died in your tracks.

“That would be me, sweetheart.”

Did he just wink at you? 

“What’s wrong with your face?”

“I think he just does that.” Nami cut in sending your eyes to travel to where she sat inside the booth. “It’s like an involuntary tick or something.”

“Oh. Explains a lot.”

You knew Sanji could tell you were both taking the piss out of him, but there was no denying he was a good sport about it. 

“Not a tick. Just a show of appreciation for two lovely ladies, such as yourselves.” 

“Okay. I’ve heard enough.” 

A soft yelp of surprise came from you as you felt a soft, yet calloused hand grab at your wrist and, not so gently, pull you to their side. Zoro’s side. He had just magically removed himself from the booth and was pulling you to the now open section. The section that would put you next to Nami, but also him. 

“Oy, women don’t like to be manhandled like that,” Sanji interjected. 

“This one likes to be manhandled quite often. We don’t need your concern.”

Usopp’s water sprayed across the table and you were willing to bet that would’ve been your very own reaction if you didn’t have a mouthful of words. 

“What the hell are you talking about?” You blanched back at him. 

Zoro’s attention wasn’t directed at you. He and the waiter seemed to be in a battle of…something. Even as he sat back down, his legs spread broad and arms crossed back over his chest, Zoro oozed two simple words: “Try me.”

“See, that’s your problem right there. Women don’t like to be manhandled-“

“Sometimes we do,” Nami mumbled and you had to hide your smirk with your hand.

“They like to be treated like queen’s and with respect.”

“I thought a waiter’s job was to bring food to the table. I don’t see any food.” 

The tension that rose around you was palpable. The two of them acted like they were caught in a verbal pissing match. Nervously, you glanced around the table to find Usopp playing with his napkin while peeking out to look at both the men. Luffy just looked genuinely lost. 

Same. 

You imagined there was a chance you would never get that drink, or any food, with how this evening was turning out. Finally, with an irritated roll of his tongue along his jaw Sanji turned to the rest of the table and tried to apply that same easy going smile as before. 

“I’ll be right back with your order. Please let me know if there is anything else I can get you ladies.” 

“They’re fine.” 

With one last glance in Zoro’s direction Sanji left and headed back into what you assumed must be the kitchen. When you were sure he was gone you turned and smacked Zoro in his arm. He didn’t even look phased. 

“What?”

“‘What?’” You mimicked back at him. That earned you a stare. “What in the hell was that?”

“Seems to me like somebody was jealous.”

Usopp teased and for once when Zoro’s eyes narrowed in on him, Usopp didn’t even flinch. 

“I’m not jealous of a waiter.”

“Your actions say otherwise,” Nami reminded him. 

In usual Zoro fashion he didn’t respond right away. His arms tightened a little more on his chest as he situated his back higher against the back of the booth. His jaw ticking like a time bomb refusing to respond to any of your prodding. 

You wanted answers. You wanted him to explain what the hell that was all about, because your skin was still burning where his hand had latched on to you. It felt possessive; a man reaching out to claim something that was his. 

The world around you might as well have gone by in a blur. You knew at some point the drinks and food had been deposited on the table. You could smell the delicious food sitting in front of you; the appetizers everyone was sharing around the table. The only thing you were able to focus on was tracing the place of where his fingers had wrapped around your wrist. Your mind felt like it was held prisoner, unable to let go and it wasn’t until you felt someone’s presence leaning closer to you in the booth that you finally broke free.

“Are you not going to eat?” 

Nami’s question whispered against your neck and you had to fight to suppress the shiver that threatened to move down your spine. When had she gotten so close? Nami was looking at you like you’d given her reason to worry. 

How long had you been sitting there staring off into space? Your eyes drifted to glance around the table - Luffy noticeably with his mouth full - and the drink sitting in front of you. 

“Oh, thank god. Booze,” you mumbled, as you reached out to take the glass. 

It took you less than a minute to bring the rim to your lips and down it in two very audible gulps. You tried not to make a face as the liquor hit the back of your throat. When you’d told Sanji you wanted something strong, he’d delivered. 

“Well, at least you did something other than stare off into space.”

“You know, it might not be any of my business-“

“I don’t think a sentence started that way leads to anything good.”

Usopp didn’t seem the least bit deterred by Zoro’s words. He continued to trim a piece of the meat off his steak while he glanced around the table. While you didn’t know what it was Usopp was about to say or ask, you knew one thing was for sure. You needed more- 

“Beer! Yes!”

God, help you, but you were giggling from excitement of finding more alcohol. Just as you reached out to grab it, Zoro’s voice came bombarding through your good time. 

“That’s mine.”

You were sure Zoro was expecting you to set the bottle back down. To not uncap the top and stare him down as you bring the bottle up to your lips and take a long, slow pull. When you finished you set your now claimed beer down in front of you.

“It was yours.”

“I was wondering, Zoro, how you got that bruise on your face?”

Usopp motioned to the exact spot where the bruise in question used to be with the hand that held his steak knife. You cringed at the idea of him hurting himself, and could feel the words of caution bubbling up on your tongue. 

“I don’t have a bruise.”

“You did, though,” Luffy offered up in between his next bit. “It was on your left cheek.” 

“That was me.”

Why were you raising your hand? Quickly, you set it back down in your lap. The smile that spread across your lips, however, stayed. 

“Doc, let’s not go around telling tall-tales, okay,” Usopp chuckled. 

“Usopp, you are the king of tall-tales. Mine is very much real,” you beamed. 

Nami looked between the two of you. Her eyes got brighter with each passing second as she realized you weren’t lying. 

“Oh my god,” she chuckled. “It is true, isn’t it.” 

“Yup.”

You popped the p at the end for dramatic effect. Your hand grabbing a hold of your new bottle of beer that you quickly took a sip of. 

“You seem way too happy about this,” Zoro grumbled, his food now forgotten. 

You couldn’t deny you were enjoying retelling this moment. The way everyone else acted, it’s as if you’d taken on a giant and everyone was surprised you’d survived. If that was the case, you would have to take a page out of Usopp’s book and embellish the story just a little. 

“So, there I was racing back to get to Kaya’s to save you guys, when I heard a lot of strange grunting coming from the well.” 

“The one you hate?” 

“Yes, Usopp, that exact one. I was going to pass by when the sounds got even worse - someone was indeed stuck inside the well. When I went over to peer across the ledge a wild Moss-haired idiot appeared from the side.”

“I’m going to have to object to this retelling.”

You waved Zoro’s words off and fought the urge to shush him. 

“No interruptions, please. Now, where was I? Oh, yeah the Moss-haired idiot who came over the side-“

“And instead of helping me this psycho decided to punch me and almost send me back down the well.”

“Psycho?” You balked.

“Yeah, a psycho. What kind of person sees someone struggling to get out of a well and, instead of helping them, tries to send them back down?”

“Why are you guys always like this,” Nami cut in.

“Like what?”

“You guys act like you can’t say one nice thing to each other or it’s going to be the end of the world.”

“I can too say something nice.”

You were not going to pout. Nami’s brows raised upwards like you’d told her there was no such thing as the West Blue and that fish could fly. You crossed your arms to try and ward her off, but there was no getting away from it. 

“Can I just say, this food is so good? I don’t know if I can take another bite - but I’m gonna.”

You allowed them to comment about the food. The food you still hadn’t tried. While you’d sat in silence, stewing over thoughts filled with questions and not enough answers everyone had eaten. 

“Oh, man you said it.” 

“I’m not going to be able to eat for a week,” Nami agreed. 

“Should we get dessert?”

“I have all I need right here,” Zoro stated, his thumb flicking the top off his beer before he took a drink. 

You could feel a smart ass remark sitting in the back of your throat. You wanted to say it - to see that flash of irritation darken his eyes. You liked the idea of getting under his skin, because whether you wanted to admit it or not, Zoro was definitely under yours. Maybe it would’ve been simpler if you’d stayed at Syrup Village. 

“Mmm! That reminds me. We should make a toast! Everyone grab your glasses. To the best crew sailing on the sea and to our victory. Yeah!”

Luffy grabbed his glass of milk and held it up. His happiness is enough to get most of you to join him in raising a glass. Hell, it was enough to get Usopp to clink his beer against Luffy’s milk. 

Beside you, Zoro smiled and took a drink from his bottle and you never wanted to be an alcoholic beverage more in your life. You needed to get out of this booth. You seriously needed to go back to the ship and think about your life choices. 

“No, I’m sorry. What victory exactly?”

Nami didn’t try to make her tone flat or hide the question off her face. She was genuinely perplexed, while the rest of you were eager for any reason just to drink. 

“Our victory against the marines. It was our very first battle and we crushed them.”

“I don’t know how many naval battles you guys have been a part of-“

“Two dozen, at least.”

Why did Usopp’s response not surprise you in the slightest. 

“But that was a disaster,” Nami continued without missing a beat. “We were unprepared, uncoordinated. By all rights, we should be at the bottom of the sea.”

“We’re not though. Luffy saved us.”

For a split second, this Nami you were seeing was different from the one you’d spent the last few days aboard the Merry. Sure, at times she could have a prickly exterior, but never like this. Usopp defending Luffy triggered something inside her - something rage-filled and dangerous. Something born from desperation. 

“Are we really going to ignore the elephant in the room right now?”

Luffy was smiling like he usually did. Unable to follow wherever Nami was leading you all, but you could sense it. You weren’t sure what drove you to try and play peacekeeper. Why you spoke her name softly between you and tried to reach out to her, only for her to pull away like you’d stung her. 

“You failed to mention that your grandfather was a marine. And not just any marine, but a Vice-Admiral, at that! I don’t know about you three, but I didn’t sign up for that.”

Zoro had been listening to her through closed eyes. You weren’t sure if he was truly trying to listen or dismiss what she had to say, but it surprised you when he stepped in. His first instinct was to stick up for Luffy, something you hadn’t been expecting. 

“You raided a marine base. Of course that’ll make you a target.” 

“I’m sorry what?”

If you had been drinking or eating, you would’ve choked. Neither of them seemed to pay you any mind. 

“If I stole the map, no one would’ve known I was there, as opposed to wrecking a base commander’s office.” 

Yes, you could vaguely recall Luffy’s speech to Kaya about all the marvelous things they’d done in the few days they’d known each other. Did you necessarily believe him at the time? Not really. But now…

Before a fresh wave of thoughts could wash up in your brain, Sanji magically appeared placing the bill on the table. 

“Your bill, sir.”

Luffy looked around at all of you, a soft smile playing at his lips, as he held up his finger for all of you to wait. He quickly signed the receipt and handed it back. 

“Thank you, my good man.”

Sanji took the bill back, his eyebrow quirked up as he read whatever Luffy had signed at the bottom. Whatever it was sent a grin wider than the East Blue to brighten up his face. 

“No, sir. Thank you.”

Luffy waited for Sanji to leave the table before he looked back at you all. For once, he wasn’t all smiles. All that care-free energy was contained and replaced with a seriousness you weren’t sure you liked. 

“Look, I’m not saying it’s good that the Marines are on our tail, but we showed them that they can’t just roll over us. This crew, our crew, can handle anything.”

It would’ve been a riveting Captain's speech if it wasn’t interrupted the second he finished speaking. 

“Who the hell is Monkey D. Luffy?”

The voice that rang across the Baratie was thick with age. You didn’t have to look far to know it belonged to the older gentleman who stood at the entrance to what you could only assume was the kitchen. His peg leg made clunking noises off the tile as he made his way towards the table. 

How did he know where to go? Luffy was just leaning out the side of the booth waving ever so-slightly with his smile back on his face. “Here.”

“You seem to be confused about the rules of the house, but Baratie doesn’t offer credit. You eat, you pay.”

How much is the food? 

You only had thirty-three Berry to your name. You started to reach inside your bag when Luffy waved you to stop. The older Chef looked from you and back to Luffy who placed his hands together like he was about to pray. 

“I think you’re confused. The meal has already been paid for. I just haven’t given you the money yet.”

“Yeah, and how’s that?”

“You can add it to my treasure tab.”

Your forehead hit the edge of the table so fast you weren’t even sure it actually hurt. 

“And what, pray tell, is that?”

“I may not look like a big deal yet, but you’re talking to the future King of the Pirates. And as soon as I find the One Piece, I’m going to come back, pay this bill in full, and with interest.” 

At least the Chef had the decency to chuckle before he lurched down and grabbed Luffy by the front of his overalls. 

“I got a better idea.” 

You watched as he placed Luffy in front of him with a controlling hand held on to his shoulder. A way to keep him from running, if he tried, but you knew Luffy would go without a fight. You glanced around the table to find no one making a move to follow. 

“You guys are seriously just going to sit here,” you huffed. 

Nami leaned her head back against the booth. Her eyes looking up at the ceiling and refusing to look anywhere else. 

“I need a drink.”

“Yeah,” Zoro chuckled as he grabbed a hold of what was left of his beer. “Now you’re talking.” 

You’d waited until they all removed themselves from the booth before you slipped away. You were sure the three of them wouldn’t miss your presence as you made your way towards the kitchen. It wasn’t until you’d passed the last pillar before the kitchen that you felt the familiar touch of calloused fingers wrap themselves lazily around your wrist. 

The tug you felt this time was softer - a plea for your attention instead of forcing it. You weren’t sure what you expected when you turned around. If Zoro would be his usual unreadable smoothness like stone or if the corner of his eyes would be tinged with annoyance. There were only a few possibilities that you’d grown accustomed to and all of them were nothing of what you got. 

When you turned to meet him, Zoro didn’t look like he usually did. The hardness that kept him unreadable was replaced with something softer. His lips parted as he searched your face with your wrist still held loosely in his hand. 

“Where are you going?”

“I’m going to help, Luffy.”

“Luffy, can handle himself.” 

“Zoro-“

You weren’t sure why your tone had come off saying his name as breathy as it did. As if you were both tucked inside the alcove of a church hiding to keep from being caught doing something forbidden. You also couldn’t explain why when he dropped your wrist from his hand you’d chosen to place it on his chest. It wasn’t until you’d done that you realized just how close you both were. 

“I’m not going to leave him to do dishes by himself until he tells me too.” 

“How do you know he’s doing dishes?”

“Why the hell else would he take him into the kitchen?” 

“Good point.”

You removed your hand from his chest and, for a split second, you thought you saw a glint of loss. 

“You guys head to the bar and I’ll meet you there shortly.”

Zoro made no move to leave. He stood there looking every bit as intimidating as a man with three swords could be, while also looking seemingly lost. He appeared to be thinking something over - a debate in his mind about whether or not he should even say whatever was weighing heavily there. 

You almost told him to just spit it out, but he looked like he would rather chew on razor blades than say whatever it was. When Zoro finally got it off his chest it sounded like he’d choked. 

“What about the waiter?”

Confusion clouded your features as you replied, “What about him? Do you need me to find him for you or-“

Zoro waved you off. He looked more awkward now than you’d ever seen him. All the cool confidence that he’d oozed seemingly gone in the blink of an eye, and replaced with a hand behind his neck and eyes that refused to meet yours. 

“No. I mean be careful of the waiter?”

“I’m confused.” That was an understatement. “Is there something I’m missing about this waiter?”

“No - it's - never mind. I’ll just see you when you finish doing whatever it is you plan to do.” 

“Okay.”

“What are you planning to do?”

Your head was metaphorically and literally spinning from the conversation. One second, Zoro looked ready to follow after Usopp and Nami who were no doubt already at a table with drink in hand. The next, he seemed uncharacteristically bashful. 

You didn’t want to smile. What if it ruined the moment? 

“I plan on helping Luffy by helping the Chef.”

“I’m going to pretend that makes sense.”

When you gave him a thumbs up in response you wished lightning would’ve come down and burnt you to a crisp. What made it worse? From the smile that was beginning to work its way at the corners of Zoro’s lips, you could practically hear what he was going to say. 

“You really are masterful with replies.”

“Okay, well, I’m gonna go in there now,” you stated. Your body slowly backed away from him and the heart stopping smile that was only growing wider. 

When did he start smiling at you like that?

You were almost to the swinging double doors when someone came rushing through and collided immediately with your back. The sound of dishes crashing sent your eyes wide and finally tore you away from the swordsman in front of you. 

“Fuck.”

“Oi, what’s going on out here?”

Double fuck. 

You stooped down to help the waiter pick up the pieces of plates that had shattered on the ground and the food right along with it. 

“What the bloody hell is going on ‘ere?”

Looking up from your crouched position on the floor, you were greeted by the same Chef who had pulled Luffy into the back. Without thinking you jolted to stand upright to face him with your hands struggling to keep the pieces of broken plate from dropping. 

“I came to help my Captain in your kitchen.”

As the words left your mouth, so too did a couple pieces of a plate. 

“No.”

It was abrupt. It was harsh and it was final. He didn’t even give you a chance to try and change his mind. The hard sound of his peg leg turning back into the kitchen cutting off whatever your next sentence might have been. 

“Hey! I can help!”

You pushed through the double doors and narrowly missed a cook passing by with a flaming piece of meat sautéing in the pan. You pulled a face and quickly moved away. This time you were watching closely where you were going and playing extra close attention to the fast pace movements happening around you. 

For someone so large, the Chef made his way with ease around the kitchen. You weren’t sure if he was just light on his feet or if everyone in the kitchen just learned to work around him. 

“No.” He sounded like he’d smoked two packs of smokes a day and finished it off by gargling with a cigar. “What you can do is get out of my kitchen before you make more of a mess.”

“Hey Doc!” Luffy waved from his place in the corner. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to help you.”

And to show how helpful you were, you placed the broken pieces of plate down on the table. The old man regarded him momentarily before looking back at you. 

“You’re with him?”

“Yeah I am.”

The old man turned back to Luffy, a large thumb pointed back to you as he spoke, “She broke a couple plates outside. That’s also added to your tab.”

“Oh, okay wait!” You came around the corner of a cutting station, arms still out in front of you like you were warding off a bear. “That’s why I'm here. I have a service I think would benefit you.”

“And what, pray tell, would that be?”

You put on your brightest smile and flared your arms out in front of you like you were a prize to behold. 

“I’m a doctor.” 

You expected a different reaction. A completely different reaction to him looking like he was about to make you fish food. 

“Get out of my kitchen.”

“Did you hear me-“

“I heard you just fine, girl. What I need is for you to get out of my kitchen.” 

The way he called you girl reminded you of Naan. It was the same tone that was used to tell you that you were in the way. You weren’t helping. You were just being a pain in the ass. There were more than a handful of times that you’d told Naan you could help; you knew enough to assist with minor surgeries. To help with childbirth when the women came in hollering and screaming like their body was being broken and molded anew. 

You’d spent your whole life learning how to forage and create and heal. You knew you could help - that you could ease this man’s pain. 

“No.”

When crystal blue eyes honed in on your position you refused to bend. You stared back at him and for the first time ever you squared your own shoulders in defiance. 

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Your stump - I bet it hurts you something awful. The problem with prosthetics is that they still rub the skin - can bruise. What if I tell you that I can make you a salve that can alleviate that for you?”

He’d placed his hands on his hips somehow making him appear broader. He was trying to intimidate you, but he had nothing on a little old lady and her cane. 

“She is really the best doctor in all of the East Blue. If your leg really does hurt you, why not let Doc try and see if it helps?” 

He looked from Luffy and back to you - his eyes showing how undecided he was. You thought you were going to have to try again when he finally replied, “You got one hour before the second dinner. If it isn’t as good as you say I’m doubling what he owes me.”

The joy you felt at winning something was quickly taken from you as you resisted the urge to chase after him. 

“Wait what?!”

The old man wasn’t going to answer you. He was too busy walking away, off to see something about food. You didn’t even get a chance to ask him for a pot or if he had any mortars in his kitchen. You glanced over at Luffy who was giving you two thumbs up and smiling his usual smile. 

At least one of you believed in you. 

You were about to remind him that you were left with nothing to use when the waiter from earlier, Zoro’s best friend, magically appeared. His jacket was now missing and the sleeves of his dress shirt were rolled up to expose his forearms. 

“I’m assuming you’re in need of some assistance.”

A breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding released from you in a soft laugh of gratitude. 

“Yes, please! I need a pot and mortar and pestle. If you can direct me where to get them-“

“No, I can get them for you. I live to serve.” 

Sanji spared you one last parting smile before he moved swiftly around the kitchen collecting what you’d asked. Everything else you either already had in your satchel or you could easily run back to the ship to get. Somewhere in the back of your mind, when Sanji came back to hand you your requested items and winked, you swore you could hear Zoro’s teeth grinding in irritation. 

Zeff, as you later learned from Sanji, had given you all of one hour to make your salve. You’d finished in forty minutes. 

The kitchen had been cleared out and empty, which you learned was the usual between the break up in the first, second, and third dinner. It also meant it gave you ample time to look over Zeff’s leg. Not that the old man looked the least bit thrilled about it. 

His rough exterior was making it hard for you not to be a little jumpy. Add in the extra audience of both Luffy and Sanji who seemed to be fascinated just from you removing the old man’s boot a little harder to work. 

The minute you’d removed the wooden prosthetic from his knee you immediately could see the bruising. The hard rashes that bleed across the skin leaving angry marks that almost threatened to make the skin weep. You couldn’t keep the air from hissing between your teeth as you took in a sharp breath. 

You could hear Zeff too. The way he tried to swallow back down a groan that threatened to become something close to a cry of pain. Gently, you set it aside and started getting to work. Your hands pull out clean linen and wrap from your satchel and the green chiterra you’d just harvested. 

You got up from where you sat and poured warm water into a bowl Luffy just cleaned. Immediately, you placed a clean cloth inside until it was completely soaked and rung it out before you gently placed it on his stump. You could hear the whistle of pain flash between his teeth, but you didn’t look to see if he was glaring at you still. You continued to smash up the chiterra until it made a paste. 

Once you knew everything was ready, you gently began to clean the skin; exposing the places where the rash had torn skin. In those areas you placed the chiterra and in the areas where no broken skin showed you deposited the salve. The minty scent enveloped the space and as you began to wrap up Zeff’s leg, you dared to peek at him. 

“What is that smell? Mint?”

“Aloe Vera. It helps with burns and irritations on the skin. I figured it would help soothe your skin. Give you some relief.”

“Hmmm.”

It was a sound you’d grown up with. Naan made the same kind when she was unsure of what to say. When she wasn’t ready to admit you were right or that you’d proven yourself capable. 

“There.” You huffed as you put the prosthetic back on. “Make sure you wash it at least once a day. The salve can be put on two to three times daily. Don’t be scared to be generous with it and-“ you pulled the piece of paper you’d written the measurements and ingredients on. Your fingers waving it back and forth in front of him just to make sure you had his attention. “I’ll give you the recipe if you knock off more than half of what Luffy owes you. Deal?”

“You really think your fancy medicine is worth more than my food?”

“Is it worth more than your comfort? You tell me: how does your leg feel now?”

You tried to hide your growing smile as you could see the battle Zeff was warring on in his head. While he was old and stubborn, you knew relief from pain of any kind was usually the path most took. 

With a heavy sigh, Zeff put his hand out for the paper and you knew you had him. This time you did allow a cheeky smile to celebrate. 

“Your Naan teach you to be a pain in the ass like this too?” 

“Nope. That I’ve learned all on my own.” 

“Sounds about right.”

You leaned back on the stool and watched as Zeff began to get up. The caution his body had grown accustomed too every time he moved was noticeable in his slow movements. 

“I told you she was the best in all of the East Blue.”

Luffy looked so proud. You weren’t sure what you expected, but the amount of pride he radiated was something new to you. Sure, you’d had Naan tell you that you did good but it wasn’t the same. There was something about the way Luffy looked at people - really looked - to the point for the first time you felt seen. 

Luffy didn’t just say he thought you were the best because he was trying to talk you up. He believed in you and what you could do. 

“Yeah, that may be so, but you still owe me some clean dishes.” 

“I’ll get right on it.”

He smacked the top of the chair he’d been sitting in as he got up. He didn’t argue or call for a rest. Luffy simply headed back towards the sink to finish on the load of dishes he’d left as they’d watched you work. The idea of him still slaving away in the space while you were all out there enjoying yourselves didn’t feel right.  

“You should be able to go out with the rest of us and have a drink.”

“I’ll be alright here. You go on ahead and meet the rest of the crew. I’ll be with you guys soon enough.” 

How soon? It didn’t feel right to leave him there. Even worse to bring over dishes you’d gotten dirty for him to wash in the end. 

“At least let me wash these, Luffy.”

He’d opened his mouth to tell - what? To tell you to go again, most likely but you never actually heard him say it. Right when he was about to speak, Sanji was just there. His hands gently taking the dishes out of yours and walking over to place them beside the sink. 

“How about I do these dishes for you.”

“Why would you do that?”

Sanji glanced away from you for a moment. His eyes focusing in on a memory, maybe. Whatever it was memory or thought, his eyes went into a thousand yard stare. One that was untouchable as the clouds. Finally, he turned to look at you and a touch of a smile was back. 

“Zeff is cantankerous old shit bag but-“

“But he’s your cantankerous old shit bag. I get it.”

And you did. Naan and Zeff had a lot in common, specifically in their not-so-great parenting that wasn’t parenting skills. Even more so in the way they tried to make it seem like any help you tried to give wasn’t going to be good enough. You’d just come to realize that, while at first you’d hated Naan for always telling you it just wasn’t good enough, whatever you did, you realized as you got older it was because she knew you could do better. Would you have preferred a hug? A lighter lesson sharing a cup of hot chocolate? Hell yeah you would’ve but…this was okay too. 

The closed smile Sanji wore cracked a little as you finished his sentence. A smile of realizing someone else understood seemed to make the tension ease from his shoulders just a bit. 

“I’ll wash these up for you and let’s say, in return, you have a drink with me later.” 

He’d remove the dish towel from his shoulders; his right hand tightened inside the fabric as he used it to prop himself up just a little. He was leaning against the counter with that soft, inviting smile still barely showing any teeth. You realized as you considered his offer you liked it better when he was smiling just a little too wide; all the flirting making him happier than he seemed now. 

Fuck you wondered what Zoro would do if he knew what you were about to say? What did it matter anyways? It wasn’t like you belonged to each other or had feelings or…you know…whatever. 

It was your turn to take your head out of the clouds and look back over at Sanji. He wasn’t being pushy. You were sure if you told him no he would be a gentleman about it. So, taking a deep breath you finally gave him your response. 

“A drink would be good.” 

What in the absolute hell’s were you doing? 

In a matter of a millisecond, Sanji brightened up and it made your chastising fall short. It couldn’t be that big of a deal if it made him this happy, it could it? 

“Great. I’ll finish up here and find you at the bar.”

“Alright. I guess I’ll see you in a bit then.”

You replaced your satchel over your shoulder and started to make your way towards the back door. You weren’t even sure where the bar was. Wherever it was you knew a certain Moss-haired swordsman would be there with the others. 

“Good. It’s a date.” 

You whirled around so fast the vertigo almost threatened to topple you over. 

“Ugh, it is not a date.”

“Sounds like a date to me,” Sanji teased, his hand flipping the dish towel back over his shoulder. 

He looked so smug. Why were all the men you were running into either smug, attractive, and a pain in the ass? Well, besides Luffy, that is. He was becoming your sunshine son whether he agreed or not. 

“It sounds like a drink,” you responded. 

Your feet were still carrying you to the back door, but you honestly couldn’t get there fast enough. 

“A drink under the stars and hushed conversation.” 

“To have a hushed conversation you have to be like this close,” using your hands you indicate the amount of space necessary to make that even a remote possibility, “and it’s in a crowded place, which means yelling.” 

“You’re adorable you know when you’re all flushed like that.” 

“Excuse me while I go throw myself overboard.”

“Doc! Make sure Nami or Usopp get you out!” Luffy called after you. “I won’t be able to go in.” 

You weren’t going to tell him it was a figure of speech. He seemed so genuinely concerned that you would just throw yourself off that you kind of didn’t want to ruin the moment. One last glance at Sanji before you left out the back door, and you debated whether you were joking or not. 

You weren’t exactly sure where you were heading, you just knew that there was the sound of music. Music usually meant very few things. Either someone was having a dinner party with music playing in the background, highly unlikely, or you were headed directly for the bar. 

The bar where your crew mates were at. The bar that Zoro was at and the same bar Sanji would come looking for you at later. God, how soon was later? The thought made each new step you took sound more pronounced, louder than the last as you practically dragged yourself into the fish’s mouth. 

It wasn’t an incredibly large space. It was pretty crowded already, and if it wasn’t for its size you would’ve worried you wouldn’t have been able to find them. Luckily for you, Usopp spotted you first and waved you over to the table they’d claimed right at the edge of the fish’s lip. 

While Nami and Zoro were nursing a beer and whiskey, respectfully, Usopp apparently found a punch bowl. By the looks of said punch bowl and the glossy look hollowing out Usopp’s eyes, you knew you were going to need one just as big. 

“Where did you get that fish bowl and do they have more?” You asked, removing your satchel and sitting down next to Nami. 

“Nice of you to finally join us.”

“Oh, it’s so nice to be missed.”

You clutched your hands dramatically to your chest causing Nami to bump into you playfully in response. 

“In all seriousness though, I’m going to need one of those fish bowls. ASAP.”

“I don’t know if you want one, Doc,” Usopp replied before taking another long pull from his straw. “It tastes just like candy. I don’t even think there is any liquor in this.” 

“Pace yourself.” Zoro warned. “Last time I said that I ended up face down underneath a table.” 

You leaned forward, your elbows resting on the small table, as you cupped your chin in your hands. You tried for cute and tried to smile that ended up squished between cheeks and hands. 

“What were you doing under the table?”

“Napping,” he replied curtly. 

“No one chooses to nap under a table in a bar.”

“I’ve napped in the crow’s nest on the Merry a few times.”

Yup. There was definitely liquor in that fishbowl. 

“By the way, if you see Sanji let me know. I inadvertently may have slightly agreed to have a drink with him.” 

“Nami’s boyfriend?”

“Nami’s what?”

“The waiter?!” 

“He is not my boyfriend,” Nami protested a finger up to signify to Usopp to make a point, “and what is happening?”

“He asked after I fixed up Zeff’s - the big angry Chef - leg. I made a little salve for him to help take the pain away when he wore the prosthetic.”

“And somehow that led to you being asked for a drink?”

“I guess?” You shrugged. 

“Man, I gotta try that,” Usopp mumbled as he took another long sip through his straws. 

“I knew I shouldn’t have left you alone.” 

Your eyes panned over to Zoro. His arms painfully tight across his chest and his jaw wasn’t faring any better. It looked painful. You wanted to remind him it was possible to get lockjaw just from grinding your teeth into dust. 

“Well, I’m going to go get me a fishbowl.” 

You remove yourself from your newly claimed spot and walk over towards the bar. The bartender himself seemed easy enough, happy to take your money, and even happier to take a tip as he handed over your drink. It was so heavy that you thought it would take you half a decade just to get it back to the table without spilling it. So, the best way to combat spillage was by starting to drink some down. 

Usopp was right. They did taste exactly like candy.

When you arrived back at the table, it was noticeably more quiet. Nami’s eyes focused on her now empty glass that she swirled around in her hand. Zoro wasn’t looking at you, as per usual, as if you’d done something wrong and Usopp was busy finishing off his drink. You weren’t sure how to inject yourself back into a conversation that had grown stagnant. You weren’t born with the ease of conversation; not like Nami who always seemed to know what to do. When to smile and the right words to make someone open up. You’d only take a couple of sips of your drink when Zoro’s gruff voice sliced into the silence. 

“What are you holding onto that is so heavy?” 

He took a drink from his own glass as he waited for Nami to speak. To lift her head up or show any signs that she’d heard him. 

“You guys seriously don’t think what Luffy did was messed up?”

You weren’t following. You were too busy taking another drink, eyes darting between the two of them. You felt silly. Obviously, whatever was bothering Nami wasn’t a secret. It wasn’t something she was holding close to ruin you all later, but whatever it was that weighed on her she felt Luffy had done something detrimental. Almost. 

Zoro regarded her evenly before he set his glass back down on his thigh. His gaze looked away from her as he replied, “Yeah. He should’ve told us. But if you haven’t noticed we’ve been making enemies everywhere we go. Psycho clowns, killer butlers: what are the Marines going to do?” 

 “You don’t understand. I can’t get caught not when I’m so close-“

Nami looked ready to break. The tears of panic that edged at the corners of her eyes made all the earlier playfulness disappear. The sharpness of words you threatened to say to defend Luffy losing their edge as you watched her stare into her glass like it would be able to give her all the answers. To tell her it would all be okay. 

Zoro looked between you and Usopp, who was doing his best to not be a part of this particular conversation. His lips wrapped around the straws buried deep in his drink and refused to let go. 

Men. 

You were about to reach out to her, to ask her if she was okay, really okay, not just the kind you pretend to be through words when a mask of a smile was back on her face. She set down her glass and gave a quick glance around the table before clapping her hands down on her bare legs and lifting up out of her seat. 

“Who wants a drink? It’s on me.”

“That’s my favorite kind.”

“Of course it is.”

You ignored Zoro’s stare as Nami removed herself from the booth - from all of you. She was more than halfway to the bar when you reached over and smacked Zoro’s shoulder. He looked surprised for all of a second before he looked from his shoulder and back to you. 

“‘That’s my favorite kind.’” You mimicked. “God, who says that?”

“Someone who likes free drinks?” Usopp offered up. 

“You are both -“

“Impossible. We know.”

Shaking your head, you shimmied out of the booth and started making your way through the groups of people. You could barely see Nami up ahead with an older gentleman speaking to her. A spindle of curiosity began to weave its way inside your belly and filled your head with questions. He didn’t seem to be flirting with her or trying. No, they seemed to be discussing business. 

“Nami.”

You spoke her name lightly the way you would an animal that was skittish. The hand you’d reached out to tap her shoulder falling short as she turned halfway to face you. 

“Hey, Doc, what are you doing?”

“I came to check on you.”

Nami pulled a face, her shoulders shrugging just enough to brush off your words. 

“I promise you, I’m just fine. I don’t need a check-up or anything like that.”

The bartender chose at that moment to set down a bottle of rum and four shot glasses, which Nami grabbed immediately. She thanked him with a smile and turned to head back to the table forcing you to practically run after her. 

“Nami- Nami, wait!”

“What do you want?!”

The anger of her words forced you to take a step back. Your hands raised just to let her know you meant her no harm. 

“Do you remember when I told you that you had a friend in Syrup village?”

“What about it?”

“While I didn’t stay in the village, I’m still your friend and while I may not be able to protect you like Zoro, or be full of sunshine and stretchy like Luffy, or hell, be as sharp as Usopp with a slingshot I’m still here for you. Does that make sense?”

“I think?”

“I Just- okay look I’m not good at this either. My only friend I had was Usopp and I’m not sure how to say this but if you need to talk or if anything is bothering you, you can tell me. I’m not going to judge you or you know…”

It all felt like it was going good in your head and then you breathed, started talking, and for some reason panicked. Bless Nami for finding it all vaguely amusing, from what you could tell, because the smile that graced her lips was the one you’d come to expect. Bright and full of the youth sometimes you feel like she’d missed. 

“Why do you get so awkward at the end of long speeches?” 

Her words were light and airy; full of the laughter that flowed through each one. You allowed her go wrap her arm around your shoulders as you both moved back to the table. Your own laughter threatening to burst at any minute. 

“I don’t get awkward.”

You could hear the eye roll she gave as you both began to release one another. You wouldn’t fit in the booth this way if you didn’t. 

“Every time. Without fail. You start off so strong.”

“I just get nervous that I’m not making any sense, especially when you’re saying things that matter.”

“What you said back there matters?”

She’d placed the rum and glasses down on the table. Usopp’s fishbowl long since emptied and Zoro was moving towards the bottle at Lightning speed, as if he couldn’t wait to meet oblivion. Before Nami disappeared back into the booth you gently grabbed her hand to stop her making sure she faced you completely before you spoke low enough for only her to hear. 

“It matters because you matter to me, Nami. All jokes aside, just don’t forget I’m here for you.”

Her eyes pricked with the edge of tears but she quickly nodded and turned away from you. The only proof you’d gotten she heard you was the soft squeeze of her hand in yours just before she let you go. 

“God, I don’t know which one of them is worse. Can that even be classified as dancing?”

Nami’s soft laughter filtered over to him and Zoro couldn’t help but respond with a smile. At some point, you’d dived head first into too many of the giant fishbowls, deciding not to heed his warning, and come out the other side completely and utterly shit faced. So, when Usopp asked you to join him out on the dance floor, you didn't hesitate. For the last hour, Zoro wished there was a camera around just to hold this moment hostage from time. 

He watched as you did moves he was willing to bet, if you were sober, would flush your cheeks in the rosy hue he’d found himself becoming obsessed with ever since he’d placed that snowdrop behind your ear. Another moment that time had taken he’d hoped to have burned into his memory. The way you’d looked up at him shifted something inside him, and Zoro wasn’t sure if he could ever get it back, or if he even cared it was gone. 

You were in the middle of your next move - one arm behind your head while the other was close to your side. Your shoulder rotating in strange circles as your body bounced off beat. Usopp had gone back to doing a shuffle beside you that broke you out of your dance and into his. 

Zoro could feel a smile threatening to burst its way on to his lips. Quickly, he brought his beer up and took a long pull from the glass. 

“You’re different with her.” Every word was punctuated. Slow. As if Nami was afraid saying it too fast would spook him. 

He took the glass from his lips and set it back on his thigh. His hand still wrapped around the cool mug as he finally regarded Nami. 

“I’m not different with anybody.”

“Well, that’s not true. You’re different with Luffy; with us. I’m betting you don’t look at us the way you look at her, though.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

It’s nothing. 

God, he wanted it to be true. Even now, however, he could feel his neck straining to stay facing Nami’s direction. He wanted to look back and see what you were doing. To make sure you were safe. 

And that waiter hadn’t magically appeared.

Nami must have known he was lying. She may have been a thief, but Zoro had come to realize her bullshit calling meter was the best he’d ever seen. She regarded him coolly with her brows raised in mock shock. 

“I have eyes, Zoro. Unless you’re looking at me the same way when I’m not looking - it’s different.”

If he played it cool, kept his face free of emotion, and didn’t react he could still call her a liar. It was a solid plan that would’ve worked if his jaw hadn’t ticked in annoyance. Zoro wasn’t annoyed with Nami. He was annoyed at himself for being caught wanting something -someone - besides his goal. 

He looked down into the safety of the amber liquid in his glass. Unsure of what - how - to begin to deny you hadn’t snuck in and taken a piece of him and called it yours. Luckily, he didn’t have to. 

“Look,” Nami sighed. “I know you’ve got your own thing going on. Who doesn’t.”

“Why do I feel like there’s a but coming,” he grumbled.

“But it’s okay to still want other things too.”

Zoro allowed himself to look up from the safety of the glass and willed himself to appear emotionless as he considered her. His mind was still mulling over her words and what Nami could possibly be trying to get at. 

“Oh yeah? Like what?”

“Like her.” 

No. 

In a flash, Zoro could see how simple it would be to have you. His imagination ran in a million directions, in a trillion scenarios of a life that held a path for you to walk with him. He almost gave in and allowed the warmth of the idea of touching you, knowing you, to consume him until a clash of swords resonated in his mind. 

As fast as it was created, it was destroyed. He found himself back in the woods standing in front of Kuina, so full of fire and life. The determination lit a fire in her eyes until he could’ve sworn he’d be consumed. 

“Until one of us is the greatest swordsman who ever lived.” 

It was his goal then just like she had been his goal - and it had remained his goal even now. Zoro couldn’t allow himself to lose sight of that. It was his dream to be the world’s greatest swordsman, but it had also been hers. 

Kuina. 

Zoro could still see her there waiting for him. Dead and dried leaves crunching under her feet as she waited for him to meet her in the clearing, her eyes brimming with challenge. 

Zoro could almost feel his muscles taut and ready to go to her. His thumb playing at the hilt of his sword, to pull it out in one smooth motion and come forward those last few feet in a class of steel. He could feel his feet moving and the sound of the leaves crunching under his weight. He was almost to her when the sound of laughter floating through the breeze like a wind chime forced him to stop. He didn’t know who or what it was, or why his first thought was you, but when he turned to glance behind him he felt his heart stop.

He was suddenly standing back in the lavender fields at Irkhaven. Zoro’s eyes scanned around until you were there, like Kuina, standing just out of reach. You were surrounded by a sea of purple and sunlight that only seemed to brighten as you smiled in his direction. It was the smile that warmed him down to his bones and made his chest ache for once with something other than sadness and guilt. Zoro wouldn’t dare think it - risk saying it - in case this was some kind of spell. 

You spoke his name - beckoning him to follow you - just like Kuina. Underneath all of your softness you held your own fire, your own determination, that made you appear wild. The wind whipping at your hair and turning you ethereal amongst all the life that you held within your eyes. 

Zoro could feel himself stuck between the place where he began and the place where he was going. Where you were waiting with Luffy, Usopp, and Nami. A place he never imagined his life would take him and yet…

The sound of Nami almost shouting his name shook him out of his thoughts and the sound of cracking glass filtered through moments later. He could feel the glass in his hand fracturing; dangerously close to collapsing inward if he squeezed harder. He set the weeping glass down and spared a glance to Nami as he removed himself from the seat.

“Hey, Zoro, are you okay?”

He hated how he could see the concern was etched into every crease of her features. The way she pretended to care. He made sure his hand was secured on the Wado Ichimonji before he stood to his full height. His eyes glancing over at you and Usopp now entrenched in a dance battle. 

Suddenly, being inside the mouth of a fish made him feel like he was being swallowed whole. He couldn’t be near you - couldn’t risk confessing in the heat of a drunken moment that you had consumed him, mind and soul, and he wasn’t sure if he cared. 

“I gotta go back to the Merry. Forgot something.”

“Forgot what? Zoro? Zoro!”

He didn’t look behind him to see what Nami was doing. Their earlier game of “guess my trauma,” officially over as he rushed towards the next dock. The pounding of his heart reminding him of the dangers of caring; of allowing yourself to get wrapped up in other people. 

To this day, Zoro could still feel the ice that pierced his heart when he was told Kuina was gone. The way the world seemed to shift into madness and somehow remain the same. It was his mind that could no longer make sense of a world where she no longer resided. Zoro would’ve gone to the gates of hell to get her back if he could and with the searing vision of your smile, head whipped back in joy, Zoro felt that same exact emotion he’d felt over seven years ago. 

He would tear the world apart to keep you in it and that was a confession he couldn’t afford to say. 

For the last hour Zoro had been able to sit in the stillness of the ship and enjoy the silence. The only intrusive sound was that of things moving below the water and the of the wet stone sliding across the Wado Ichimonji. 

It’d taken him longer than he’d ever admit to collect himself. His meditation hadn’t been able to clear his mind the way it usually did, and it wasn’t until he’d begun to take care of Kuina’s blade that his thoughts had ceased.

Of course, all good things were meant to come crashing down. 

“How long do you think you’re going to hide out here and pout?”

Zoro’s wrist stopped mid-motion down the sword. His eyes unable to tear away from the moonlight gleaming on the blade just in case looking at you sent him reeling over the edge again. 

Being alone with you on the Merry was about the worst thing that could happen to him. At least at the bar he would have continued to play twenty questions with Nami and been surrounded by plenty of sound to help drown out whatever was going on with him. 

You aren’t focused. 

But he was, wasn’t he? In the last seven years, Zoro had devoted himself to his training. To become stronger. Faster. The only swordsman to use three swords and earn the name of The Demon. With every waking hour Zoro was closer to becoming who he - who she - dreamed of being. 

The sound of your footsteps drawing closer almost made him delirious. His hand tightening down on the wet stone before he set it down beside him. His eyes turned out to look once more into the endless midnight in front of him. 

“Who says I’m hiding?”

His voice sounded rough, like it hadn’t been used in months. He picked up the rum he’d taken from his room and took a swig to clear his throat and his senses. By the time he finished taking his drink, you were standing beside where he sat on the crate. Your arms wrapped around your middle with your hip cocked looking like you were ready to give him hell. 

I am hiding. 

It was the only clear thought he had as his eyes adjusted to your presence. Your eyes were glassy from the alcohol even though you were trying to make it seem like you were sober, he guessed. But Zoro could tell you were tipsy with the way you swayed along with each push of the ocean’s wave against the ship. 

He and Nami were going to have a talk about dressing you next time. Every part of you felt exposed to him and yet, it wasn’t enough. It was all just a game, teasing him constantly no matter what angle he looked at it. What was even worse was how the moon highlighted you in light and half in shadow. 

“I say you are and we both know I’m usually right.”

A sly smile slid across his lips before he could stop it. His eyes transfixed while you took the finishing steps until you stood before him. With your arms back down at your side you felt more open to him, vulnerable somehow. It was the look in your eyes that told him why. 

Maybe he wasn’t just imagining it too but what did it prove? You were both idiots on a sinking ship. Looking up at you now, the way you shamelessly devoured every inch the moonlight provided your eyes he knew you’d both happily drown. 

“Is that so?”

“It’s the new unwritten rule on the ship.”

“Guess I’m going to have to have a talk with Luffy about that.”

“He’s still in the kitchen finishing up dishes if you want to be a good first mate and help him.”

“I should go help him.”

“The waiters in there with him, though.” 

“He doesn’t need my help that bad.” 

Zoro wasn’t sure what it was that made your head fall back the way it did. What it was that caused you to laugh the way you did with your hand covering your mouth as if it was enough to silence it. He didn’t know what he did, but he swore he would do it again just to see you like this. 

“Is that why you are hiding out on the ship? Afraid of some competition?”

You went to sit down next to him and his hand reached out to grab you by your hip to stop you. It was meant to be a gesture to get you to stop. Instead, his hand slid under the fabric of the corset and he could hear the audible sharp whistle as you sucked in a breath. He wondered if you would let him keep it there, if you’d let him pull you closer until you were perfectly positioned between his legs.

As fast as his hand and touched you it retreated and it was his turn to stand. 

“Let’s cut the chit chat. I have something better in mind.

“You seriously think now is a good time to train?”

You couldn’t believe it. Your brain was still a mess from seconds ago when his hand somehow found its way under your clothes. The way he’d looked up at you, you half expected him to pull you closer. The hunger that flashed in obsidian eyes was enough to make you think you were about to find out just how plush his lips might actually be. 

As fast as it happened it ended and the disappointment was raw in your chest. Zoro, on the other hand, looked right at home. 

“Why not? Did you have something else in mind?”

Yes. 

“No,” you grumbled. 

You were most definitely not pouting.

“Good. First, you have to fix your stance.” 

“Okay, how should I be-“

A scream of shock left you as you nearly jumped out of your skin. You turned just in time to see him slide the handle of a sword back inside the sheath. The same one that he’d used mere seconds ago to smack against your bare thigh. 

“Did you just spank me with your sword?”

God, he looked too pleased with himself. 

“I could do it again, if you like.” 

You could feel your mouth opening and closing. You didn’t know what to say. Yes, please do? That felt too desperate and yelling at him would do nothing but prove you did like it in some weird way. 

Shit. Your cheeks were burning. 

“How about we just direct me, verbally, like a normal sensei would do.” 

“You could also call me master, instead of sensei, if you like.” 

Zoro had stepped close to you - close enough if you leaned back just an inch you would be against him. His words were dripped heavily with teasing, but the way the husk of his tone whispered along your skin like a caress threatened to make your knees buckle. 

This was supposed to be training for god sake. Clearing your throat, you dared to lean your head back just enough it rested on his chest. Your eyes batting up at him as you replied, “Or I can just call you an asshole.”  

A heavy sigh blew through his nose as he stepped away from you, almost sending you falling on your ass. 

“Do you even have a weapon?” 

“There are pots in the kitchen,” you deadpanned. 

Zoro looked at you like he would throw you over the side of the ship at any minute. 

“I mean a real weapon.”

“My knife is in my satchel.”

You both stood there staring at one another. You weren’t sure what he was expecting you to do. If you were just magically supposed to make your satchel appear or leave to go get it. Zoro wasn’t saying much. He was just standing there one hand on his sword and a thumb tucked into his sash. 

“Are you going to keep staring at me all night or are you going to go get it?” 

Whatever tension that had been brimming between you, unspoken words, or anything else was instantly gone. All of it exploded by his usual rigid posture and dead-eye stare that only moments ago made you believe that maybe, just maybe, your drunken mind wasn’t as delusional as you thought. 

“When I come back you better be ready to get your ass kicked,” you seethed. 

You went to turn on your booted heel when a strong wave rocked the ship and almost sent you toppling forward. You’d braced yourself for impact; your knees colliding once again with the wood or possible scraps to your hands and bare legs. 

Instead, your back collided with a warm body with a forearm locked around your middle keeping you impossibly tight against them. The scent of sandalwood and skin melded together flooding your scenes until your brain was in overload. 

You looked back and found his face mere inches from yours. So close you could feel the heat of his breath along your jaw tempting you to close those last few inches. For a brief moment you thought you’d unlocked some new form of drunken bravery inside of you, but all of it came crashing down when Zoro let go and stepped away. 

“Maybe I should walk back with you. You don’t seem like you’re able to walk.” 

“Okay.”

You didn’t know what else to say. Should you tell him to come close again? Should you tell him that while he was equally the most infuriating human on the planet you somehow couldn’t imagine a space where he wasn’t in it?

How could knowing someone for only a short while turn into…this. 

You knew you wouldn’t say any of it. Not even enough liquor in the world could get you to tell Roronoa Zoro, The Demon, that you had a crush on him just as deadly as he was. 

So, you turned on your heel and headed back towards the giant mouth of the fish. The steady sounds of Zoro’s heavy footsteps right behind you until you finally made it back into the bar. You’d only gotten a few steps to the table when you realized something was wrong. A man in a trench coat and large hat with a feather was standing in front of Nami and Usopp. They didn’t appear frightened but…why was he there?

“Oh, hey guys! This is my new best friend-“ Usopp stated. 

Nami softly smacked him on his chest as she cut in, “This is not our friend.” 

The man in question turned to stare at Zoro and you. His eyes sunflower yellow with swirls like a bullseye within making you almost take a step back from him. You bummed back into Zoro and this time when you looked at him he no longer looked unreadable. He was looking at this man like he was a godsend - a dream come true in the form of curled mustaches and oversized feathers. 

“You’re Dracule Mihawk.” 

“I have business with your captain. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll hand him over.”

“Well, we don’t know anyone named Luffy, do we guys? Zoro?” 

You’d been so enamored by Mihawk’s  appearance you hadn’t realized Zoro had moved around you. His eyes still fastened to him as he moved around to face him. 

“I’ve been following your career since I was a child. It’s an honor to finally meet you, sir.”

“Thank you.” 

Mihawk looked bored out of his skull. 

“Which is why it pains me to inform you that tomorrow you’re going to die.”

“Wait, what?”

“What the actual fuck…” 

Your words came out as an uttered whisper. You were too shell shocked to say more - do more. It felt like you were watching this whole interaction through the lense of a telescope on a distant island where idiots roamed free. 

“I, Roronoa Zoro, challenge you to a duel to the death.”

“What the actual fuck! Zoro!”

This time you were loud. Much louder than you wanted with every syllable ringing out your panic like a dinner bell. 

“I’ve never heard of you.” 

“They call me the Demon Pirate Hunter. But my lifelong dream is to best you in single combat and become the greatest swordsman in the world.” 

“You’re serious.”

“Accept my challenge and I’ll show you how serious I am.”

“Very well. Tomorrow at dawn and when I’m done with you Pirate Hunter I’ll take your captain.” 

No. No. No - “No.”

Your head was still ringing out with the word. Unable to comprehend what in the actual hell had just happened. You’d come back to get your small cutting knife. He was supposed to be training you right now back on the deck of the Merry. This was wrong. All wrong. 

Nami leaned forward from her seat. Her own worry was bleeding into her eyes, her voice, as she asked, “What in the hell did you just do?”

You were still trying to figure that out when Zoro turned and walked away leaving dread the size of a crater to worm its way inside your chest. 

As always, thank you all so much for reading. Comments and reblogs are always appreciated.

____________

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[celtic-crossbow]

Hi there! I really * love * your writing and would like to request a Daryl x fem!reader story.

Set in 10x11, reader takes care of Daryl after he returns from his fight with Alpha. The reader treats the wounds (leg, face, bruises). They also might talk about Carol's odd behavior and are worried about her.

Then it's about getting ready to fight the herd and the Whisperers, not knowing if they'll survive the night. They probably also have a daughter and they're worried about her, Judith' and RJ's safety.

There could be fluff, a spark of hope or even smut (carefully because of his injuries, of course) or anything like that.

I would love to read that 😊 xx

I am the Mess You Chose

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Setting: Hilltop (Whisperers Era)

Warnings: Injuries; Medical treatment

A/N: I really tried with this, Anon. I hope I did okay. I think it went more angsty than I had intended. Still, I hope you enjoy. I also really love Daryl giving the reader the nickname Pip, short for pipsqueak. It just resonates with me, so I hope my little bit of self indulgence is okay.

You were speaking with Luke and Yumiko when you heard the familiar rumble of Daryl’s bike, turning toward the gate with Aspen on your hip. Her cries of dada dada dada accompanied the clapping of her little hands while your husband rode through with Lydia on the back of the bike. You could instantly see that something wasn’t right. 

“Any sign of them?” Yumiko reached them first, not waiting until the motorcycle had even been shut off. Daryl was looking down, avoiding the light.

“We didn’t get that far.” He grumbled while Lydia dismounted. Kelly stepped forward next, looking concerned but whether it was for Daryl or who he didn’t bring back, you couldn’t be sure. You were handing Aspen off to Jerry with a quick please watch her before you moved past everyone. Daryl was struggling to get off the bike, grunting and instantly keeping the weight off his left leg. “We gotta talk.”

“Not you.” You interjected, dragging his arm over your shoulders. “Lydia, can you handle the details?” The girl nodded. You gave Jerry another glance and received a nod before he had little Aspen waving at you and Daryl, who put on a brave face for his daughter until you were out of sight. He made a noise in the back of his throat the moment the two of you stepped across the threshold, both legs nearly buckling beneath him. “I gotcha. Downstairs bedroom, just a little further.” You shook your head at someone who appeared to be close to addressing Daryl and jerked your chin toward the front door in a silent request for them to shut it. “Can you open the bedroom door, Daryl?”

“Yeah.” He rasped, fumbling for the knob before finally grasping it and shoving the door open. It was a bit of a challenge but you eventually got him to the bed and let him sink down on the edge of the mattress. “Hey, Pip.” He offered you the smallest of smiles while looking up at you, your fingers brushing his hair away from the substantial laceration above his eye.

“Don’t hey, Pip me, Daryl Dixon! What happened?” You admonished, continuing your assessment and finding more injuries on his torso but his leg, that was where your worry spiked. His pants were stiff with dried blood, the bandages lined at the top with a tightly bound piece of fabric. A tourniquet, you surmised. 

“Found Alpha. Tried to find out where they were.” He leaned back on his hands, his upper body swaying.

“I see how well that conversation went.” You deadpanned.

He responded at first with a hum. “Lydia found me. S’half dead. She dragged my sorry ass outta there, patched me up good ‘nough to get back.” Daryl jolted, the bandages sticking to his skin as you unwound them from the wound. You’d need to grab some antibiotics for sure. Knife wound, deep. The bleeding had all but stopped thanks to the tourniquet, but you felt sick at the thought of how easily the femoral artery could have been nicked. How quickly he would have bled out. “Was gonna leave it.”

“What?” You looked up to find him watching you. He nodded toward his leg.

“Alpha’s knife. Was gonna leave it. Knew better’an to pull it out, but she followed me. Drew in three walkers. Had to use it.” You stared at him levelly, not relenting when he reached to trace a finger down your jaw. “S’good to see your face, Pip. An' baby girl’s. For a minute there—for a minute, I thought I wasn’t comin’ back.” 

“Remind me to thank Lydia after I throttle the hell out of you for going alone.” You stepped out of the room for the suture kit, more antiseptic and bandages. “How long has this been on?” You motioned toward the tourniquet with the suture kit.

“Few hours.”

Slamming the kit onto the mattress, your head followed it with a groan. “I’ll have to do an IV, Daryl. We need to do a bolus of fluids to flush out the toxins building up where the blood isn’t flowing.” You weren’t mad, not really. You were redirecting your fear into something that wouldn’t have you a trembling mess while trying to stitch up your husband’s damn near fatal wound.

“M’sorry.”

“It’s fine. I’m—” You sighed and knelt next to his leg to clean the wound thoroughly. “I’m just glad you’re here. Safe. And in one piece.” You tilted your head. “More or less.” It always hurt your heart to tend to his injuries, not just knowing the wound itself was painful, but knowing it would just add to the collection of scars he had accumulated throughout his life. He didn’t seem so bothered by them anymore but that didn’t mean you enjoyed watching him gather them like tattoos. 

The two of you were quiet as you stitched, not a single word until you tied off the last one and clipped the remaining thread. You placed the used materials in the wastebasket and stepped out of the room, jogging down to the medical unit for IV supplies, antibiotics, and fluids. People were moving about hastily but you’d find out why later. You had to take care of your husband first. Arms full, you detoured to find Jerry. He was on the ground with Aspen, her little arms flailing around as she stood in front of him, telling the world’s tallest tale. The man caught your eye and nodded. You mouthed a thank you and continued back to the house. There must have been something he was needed for, but you were keeping him from it. 

Daryl was lying down when you returned, an arm thrown across his eyes. He wasn’t sleeping, the rhythmic tapping of each finger against his thumb a tell tale sign that he was anxious. You needed to find out what was going on, why everyone was bustling about in waves, though you had an inkling. You were just hoping to be wrong.

Clearing your throat, you entered the room. “You really pulled a Carol yesterday, you know.”

“That ain’t funny.” He huffed, lifting his arm slightly. He looked so exhausted and pale. 

“It wasn’t intended to be, love.” He just happened to be shielding his eyes with the arm you needed, but didn’t fight you when you pulled it down to lie straight at his side and rolled up the sleeve. Placing the rubber tourniquet above his elbow, you started palpating for a vein, glancing up at him every few seconds. “She’s not doing so hot, is she?”

“Nah. She ain't.” He replied quietly. He didn’t flinch when you slid the needle in, getting a good return before removing the tourniquet and popping the needle back to leave the catheter behind. “Worried ‘bout her.”

“I know.” You straightened the tubing and connected it to the bags you hung on the headboard, open the line to start the flow of fluids and antibiotics. “I’m gonna take the tourniquet from your leg. It’s not gonna feel great.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know. Done this dance a million times, Pip.” 

You nodded and circled the bed, grabbing the scissors from the medical kit on your journey. You positioned the blades before glancing up at your husband. He was staring at the ceiling, but you knew where his head was.

“Are you angry with her?” Snip. Daryl grunted and clenched his fists, the circulation returning in a painful spiral throughout the injured limb.

“Yeah. Yeah, m’fuckin’ angry with her.” He snapped quietly, nostrils flaring. “Keeps takin’ off half-cocked, gettin’ herself hurt, gettin’ other people—” His mouth snapped shut into a thin line, his left arm coming up to cover his eyes that time. 

“Connie.” You supplied. You knew Daryl had taken a liking to the woman. She radiated confidence and positivity and just life. Your husband had grabbed onto that with both hands and held fast, pulling her into your little family. You both adored her. You didn’t blame Carol per se, but she did hold some of the responsibility for Connie’s—disappearance. “Daryl.”

“What?” He huffed, his irritation not directed at you. You knew him better than that.

“What if it were Aspen?” He jerked his arm away from his eyes so quickly that you flinched, knowing he was about to yell at you for even suggesting such a thing. “Stop. It’s a horrible thought, I know. But take how just that thought makes you feel and multiply it by infinity, my love. That is where Carol’s heart is right now and her head can’t even try to keep up with it.”

“That ain’t—she just—” His chin was wobbling, an inner war raging behind his stormy blue eyes.

Grabbing some butterfly stitches, gauze, and alcohol, you crawled onto the mattress and sat cross-legged by his shoulder. When you began to dab at the wound on his forehead, his face fell and his defeated gaze found your steady one. 

“I’m not saying she’s right, love. I’m just saying maybe she’s not wrong either.” You said nothing else until you had closed the wound with the strips and leaned forward to place a kiss between his eyes. “You two will get through this. You always find a way.” With a sniff and a deep breath, Daryl nodded. You were unbuttoning his shirt to tend to the other wounds when you yourself inhaled deeply, eyes flashing up to your husband’s face. “I need you to tell me what’s happening out there.”

“Be here by nightfall. Still gives us a bit to get ready.”

You stood at Daryl’s side against the upstairs bannister while everyone below scurried about with weapons and supplies. 

“You’re sure all the roads are blocked?” You tapped your fingers against the wood nervously.

“You were on one of them roads yourself, Pip. Ya saw it. They got ‘em all.” The archer’s bandaged hand covered yours to still your anxious movements. “Listen, I wantcha with the kids.” Your eyes were already watching your daughter on the carpet downstairs with Judith and RJ, but your attention snapped toward him before he could finish speaking.

“No.”

“Ain’t a request. Wantcha to—”

“No, Daryl.” You snapped, pulling your hand away. “This bitch has taken from all of us. I’m gonna be right beside you, on the frontlines.”

“Nah, need ya to stay away from this. Need to know that Aspen’s with ‘er mama, that Jude an’ RJ have ya there to protect 'em.” You were shaking your head with every word, but he didn’t stop. “Can’t fight out there not knowin’ my family’s safe as they can get.”

“And I can’t sit in here knowing my husband is out there fighting without me.” You gestured to the whole of him. “Fighting when he’s already beaten all to hell!” “Just do this for me, Pip. Take care’a our kids. If somethin’ happens to me, baby girl, Jude, an’ RJ’re gonna need ya.” Daryl brushed your hair behind your ear and placed his hand on your cheek. Your eyes were wet with frustration and hopelessness and worry and grief. 

“Goddamn you, Daryl Dixon.” Your head fell forward against his chest, sniffling until he wrapped his arms around your shoulders and held you there while you pulled yourself together. He was right, and you knew it. Your daughter couldn’t lose both of her parents to that monster. Jude and RJ couldn’t lose what family they had left. “Alright. I’ll stay back with the kids.” Daryl kissed your forehead.

“M’gonna talk to Zeke. If one’a us goes down, the other’ll come for you an’ the kids, okay?”

“Don’t talk like that.”

“Y/N, I’m just—”

“No, don’t talk like you’re not coming back to me.” You didn’t let him speak again before your mouth was on his, your hands in his hair while his squeezed your waist. “You are coming back to me.” You were walking him backwards toward one of the empty rooms, careful of his injury and accommodating his limp. 

“M’comin’ back.” He spoke quietly against your mouth, letting you unbutton his shirt before he could even manage to start shutting the door. “Always will.”

[flemingsfreckles]

Be a Good Teammate pt. 4

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Read Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 first!

Preview: You and Jessie have dinner at her new place.

Warnings: it’s angsty yall, buckle up (just for a bit), swearing, very brief mention of sex (no descriptions, nothing like that, but it gets mentioned)

WC: 5.5k

A/N: I think this is the end of this series. I never intend to make it more than 1 part honestly, but you all enjoyed it enough so here we are at Part 4. This also ended up more angsty than I had planned so, whoops :)

It was nearing 5pm when your Uber pulled up in front of the address Jessie had sent you. You thanked the driver and hopped out. You hadn’t thought much of the address, not noticing that there wasn’t an apartment number or a unit letter attached to the end of it, so you were surprised to find yourself standing in front of a house instead of an apartment complex as you had expected.

It was a small little blue house, wood fencing all around, a good sized front yard, a few trees, it was exactly what you would expect Jessie to pick out. 

You pulled your phone out of your sweatpants pocket to let her know you had arrived. You had gotten back to the hotel, quickly thrown on a Nike sweatshirt and a fitted pair of gray joggers.

“Hi.” You look up to see Jessie walking through the doorway and down the steps toward the fence gate. You put your phone back in your pocket, not needing to let her know you were here anymore. She reached the gate, unlatched it and held it open for you to come inside. You notice that she quickly looks you up and down as you walk through into her front yard. You can’t help but do the same to her.

Jessie’s hair was down, still slightly wet from her postgame shower, she was wearing a lavender colored long sleeved shirt and a pair of sweatpants. She looked cozy, as if she was ready to cuddle up on the couch for the evening like she had mentioned wanting to do.

“You bought a house?” Your curiosity gets the best of you and you can’t help but ask. 

“Yeah, I did. I lived with Janine and her fiancé for the first few weeks while I looked at places, and then I had to leave for the gold cup and I just couldn’t find any apartment that felt like home. I started looking at houses instead once I got back. This was actually the first one I saw and I really liked it. It’s not too big, which works since it’s just me right now but has some room if I need it in the future.” Your brain wanders to the thought of Jessie having her own kids in the future, you knew she wanted them and you had seen how good she was with kids over the years. 

“Plus I figured even if I’m only here for a couple years, I can keep the house. It’s only been a few weeks but I love the area. I'd consider coming back here to settle when soccer is over.” She opened the front door, stepping back to let you walk in first. 

You slip off your shoes, placing them on the mat next to the door where Jessie’s shoes lay neatly in a row. Looking up you realize you're standing in her living room, there’s a large gray couch, a small table in front of it, a tv, a bookshelf that’s filled with books and art and other trinkets. 

“You can keep a plant alive now?” You tease her as you see she has a variety of green plants. In college you had watched her become what you described as a serial killer of plants.

“I’m getting better. A lot of them were housewarming gifts from my teammates so I maybe just haven't had enough time to kill them.” 

Stepping out of the entryway you walk over to her bookshelf, looking at the various titles, there’s a couple photos placed on the bookshelf, one with her parents after she had won the gold medal, one of her and her Chelsea teammates holding up a couple trophies, one of her and her siblings all wearing matching Christmas pajamas. The opening to the kitchen was just to your right, you step in its direction before turning to look at Jessie who was following closely behind you.

“Can I see the kitchen?” You don’t want to invade her privacy by inviting yourself to take a tour of her place.

As if she read your mind she gestures her hand in the direction of the kitchen. “Go ahead, I can just give you the whole tour now while we wait for the food, it should be on its way by now. I was also thinking we can watch the Angel City and Orlando game, only if you want it should be on at 7. ” She looks at the clock mounted on the wall. 

“Yeah that sounds good.” You reply as you step into the kitchen.

Her kitchen was cute, the same wood accent from the outside of the house scattered throughout. She offered you an ice pack for your nose as you stood looking at her fridge. You declined, having just taken the pain meds, it was bearable pain. 

As you continue to move through her house Jessie makes a few comments here and there about what she liked about the house so much, the wood flooring, the large windows that let in natural light, the little nook that she had set up to be a place to read. Hearing her talk about the little things, paint colors, furniture was so simple and yet it made you feel like you were back to your old friendship. The simple minded discussions, the joking around, all the tiny moments you would have with her, it hit you how much you really missed just her existence and company.

You get to two closed doors at the end of the hallway, you point at the one closest to you and look back at Jessie.

“Linen closet, nothing exciting unless you want to see towels.” You move your finger to point at the other. “My bedroom.”

“Oh,” You’re not sure what to say, the closed door seemed like an obvious sign to not go in. Jessie again, able to tell what was running through your head, speaks up.

“You can go in, I just close the door out of habit. I don’t have anything to hide.” Wanting to see her bedroom, you push open the door. It reminds you a little bit of her bedroom in your college apartment. Not much as far as decor, just a few special things on display throughout. Her bed in the center of the room, a nightstand on one side.

“Sorry it’s still a mess in here, I haven’t had a ton of time to dedicate to unpacking and I was more focused on the rooms everyone else would see.” You look around, trying to find the mess she was referring to. Her bed was made, no clothes scattered across the floor, no pile of clean laundry to be put away, no water bottles on bedsides, not even dust, just a few boxes stacked neatly in the corner, the one on top open as if she had been in the middle of unpacking when you had arrived.

“If this is what you consider a mess, we have completely different standards of mess.” You let out a laugh, Jessie doesn’t say anything, just gives you a smile and slow nod. 

You’re interrupted by her phone ringing, she picks it up and before answering the call she points around the corner. “If you want to see my bathroom, it's through the closet. I’ll be right back.” 

She walks out of the room and you hear her answer the call. You take a second look around her bedroom, looking at the couple of personal items that were scattered, photos of her and her Canada teammates, photos of her family, photos of skylines and nature that you assume she had taken. She has her array of cameras all neatly set on a shelf, displaying them. Making your way over to her closet you walk through to peek into her bathroom. It looked like a bathroom, nothing too special about it, a shower, toilet, a vanity with two sinks, her toothbrush, hairbrush, and other bathroom things just placed neatly around one side.

You turn back to go wait in her bedroom being done looking at the bathroom. You walk into her closet, taking a quick glance around, the closet had more boxes in it than unpacked clothing items. Each box was neatly labeled, varying in sizes, all stacked on top of one another. You look at what clothes she had unpacked, it was nearly all clothes for training, one pile had clothes with the maple leaf and the name Canada across them, the other a mix of red, green, some blue, with the thorn’s logo and Portland across them. Looking back toward the exit of the closet your eye catches on a box, more specifically the label of the box catches your eye.

It was a box with your name on it. Printed carefully along the side, in Jessie’s handwriting. You could feel your heart begin to race. You couldn’t move, your eyes staring, your own name looking back at you. Why did she have a box with your name on it? 

“Foods here.” You didn’t even hear Jessie coming, the sound of your blood rushing through your ears muffling outside noises. She comes around the corner, you quickly look away, not wanting her to see you and think you were snooping through her stuff. You weren’t, but you could see how it could look suspicious, but then again she was the one with a box labeled for you. She must’ve seen your sudden movement as she looks at you with a questioning look, then at where the box sat, you see the moment she knows you’ve seen the box. Her eyes widen and dart back to you. You expect her to say something, she does, just not about the box.

“It’s on the kitchen table.” Her face returns to a relaxed state, almost emotionless.

“Perfect.” Mirroring her behavior you decide maybe you’ll both just pretend that box doesn’t exist. Maybe you’ll just let it eat away at you for years, just like you had done with your feelings for the girl. You follow her out of the closet and bedroom back down the hallway and into the kitchen. 

You both make a plate, grab a water, and sit down at her kitchen table. She sits first and you’re then forced to make the choice between sitting next to her or across from her. You decide on sitting across, hoping she doesn’t judge your choice. It’s quiet for the first few minutes, just the sound of silverware. Jessie keeps her eyes down, looking very interested in the plate of food sitting before her. You knew it was going to be awkward, seeing her in a non-football setting for the first time in so long, you were prepared for the small talk, asking about your family, your friends, the weather, you weren’t prepared for whatever this was. Both of you sitting here thinking about that box brought a whole different level of unexpected discomfort, it was making you itch.

“Your girlfriend doesn’t mind you having a box with another girl's name on it?” Unable to hold it in any longer, you let the question come out, you quickly kick yourself for asking that way, bringing her girlfriend into this conversation. Jessie picks up her head and puts her fork down.

“She’s not my girlfriend anymore.” Choosing the wrong time to take a sip from your glass you choke slightly causing a coughing fit. Jessie just looks at you as you try to calm down. Once you stop coughing she continues muttering the words, “and she actually did mind. A lot.”

Your brain is spinning, you heard her keep talking but your mind kept repeating the words she had spoken “not my girlfriend anymore”.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know you split.”  You now feel guilty for bringing up the girl.

“Of course you didn’t, you stopped talking to me, you didn’t get to have the privilege of knowing that we split.” Her tone of voice was shifting, becoming annoyed. Wanting to ask more but also not wanting to pry on a relationship you barely knew about.

“Why didn’t you just get rid of the stuff? If that would’ve made her happy?”

“I don’t know.” She pauses looking down at her hands. “I mean I do, it’s,” she sighs. “To be fair it wasn’t just the box, she had always been a little suspicious of our relationship, I told her the truth, that there’s never been anything between us, we didn’t have a history. And she believed me, I think, at least at the start. But then when you stopped talking to me, she’d catch me watching your games, checking up on you, looking at old photos of us, and she eventually found some clothing of yours that I had put away, along with the notes we used to write each other, the birthday cards, the Polaroids, everything. I wasn’t intentionally hiding but it was out of sight out of mind for me. I didn’t need the constant reminder that I had been dumped by my best friend. She again made the assumption that we had dated, or at least had slept together. She read the letters claiming friends to talk to each other in that manner. That was just the start of the mess.”

Nodding along to her story, you try to show her you’re paying attention, and you were, it was just hard when your mind was drifting to a hundred different thoughts. 

 “And then the rumors started about my transfer. I hadn’t told her about it, I hadn't even mentioned the idea of leaving London. I wasn’t even sure it was going to go through, it was a lot of money for Portland and I was waiting on visas and medical and all that bureaucracy and we got into an argument about it. She accused me of moving for the wrong reasons, she brought up you.” Jessie pauses for a minute as if to collect her thoughts before she continues.

“ I then said some things about you I shouldn’t have said to her and then it was over with her shortly after.” The volume of her voice drops as she rushed her words at the end of her sentence.

“You could’ve just thrown it all out at the start, if that would’ve fixed things with her, I wouldn’t have known.” Your statement is true, you didn’t even know she had kept all those things you wouldn’t have known if she had gotten rid of them.

“It wasn’t that easy, I know we weren’t talking, and like I said we weren’t even friends, but fuck I missed you so much. You were my best friend for nearly 5 years, only to get dropped without a reason and I was mad at you, sure but I couldn’t bring myself to get rid of that box of stuff.”

“There was a reason, I hope you know that.”

“Well you didn't give me a reason, if you just would’ve told me I could’ve fixed it or apologized or something. Instead I just had to sit and run through every decision I had ever made questioning where I went wrong with you, what I did to hurt you.” You can see tears welding in her eyes as she continues to stare at you, despite the tears, her eyes are cold and make you feel tiny under her gaze.

You stayed sitting, staring back at her, having no clue on what to say to her, stuck between wanting to apologize and also wanting to yell back at her. You silence allows her to continue.

“I would’ve done anything to have you back in my life, all you had to do was ask, but it felt like you wanted nothing to do with me. And that fucking hurt.” Her fist comes down hard on the table, it startles you, making you sit back away from where you had been leaning against the table. You cross your arms as you sit back and bow your head to stare down.

“I couldn’t ask.” It comes out quiet, from your mouth almost as if it was an accident.

“What?”

“I couldn’t ask you to fix it, it wouldn’t have been fair.” Speaking louder you bring your head back up to look at her.

Now it’s her turn to say nothing. She looks from you to where her hands sat on the table. She just waits, giving you the space to give her more information. You know you owe her the explanation, what you don’t expect is the word vomit that comes out once you start.

“I couldn’t ask you to break up with her, I couldn’t tell you I was jealous of her, I couldn’t bring myself to tell you those things, you seemed so happy with her, it wouldn’t have been fair. I had my chance for 4 years before she existed to tell you and I didn’t, but I also couldn’t stand seeing you so happy with her, it tore me apart, I wanted you to be happy and you were. It just sucked that you were happy with someone else. It sucked trying to be a supportive friend, I hated having to hear about your dates, and hearing about your first kiss, and I really hated having to hear all about the first time you two fucked.” The last word coming off with extra emphasis, the memory of her call to you after their night together briefly plays in your mind, only making you more upset.

“I hated it Jessie, but I sat through it for as long as I could because I wanted to be there for you. I wanted to be a good friend to you. I wanted to still be your best friend but I couldn’t and all I wanted was for her to no longer exist. I started to think horrible things about her and your relationship and that’s when I knew I needed to take a step back for my own health. I was no longer being a good friend to you. So I stepped back.” Your voice was loud, you were slightly out of breath barely stopping between words as you yelled across toward her, you’re not sure why you were yelling, you weren’t trying to yell at her. It wasn’t her fault she had found someone to make her happy that wasn’t you. But the past year of frustration had built and built and unfortunately this was the time the wall broke, and here you were practically shouting at Jessie across her own kitchen table.

Jessie doesn’t say anything. She stands up from the table, the sound of her chair scraping the floor was the only noise in an otherwise silent room. Grabbing her own empty plate and then extending her hand she offers to take yours. You pass it to her. She walks them over to the sink, putting them down, running the water over them. You stand up, not wanting to feel like a terrible house guest, you start packing the leftovers back up. You open the fridge door and place them inside. The water shuts off and Jessie puts the plates on a mat to dry. She walks past you, not saying anything as she moves into the living room. You hear the noise of the couch, assuming she has sat down you take a few steps toward the other room. 

She’s sitting on the couch, bent over with her head in her hands. Her thumb is rubbing against her temple and she’s bouncing her knees. Leaning against the doorway you stay quiet, you feel bad for yelling at her, seeing her overwhelmed like this because of you, tugged on your heart. You wanted to rush to her side and hug her but you also knew that would probably be the worst thing you could do. You stayed put, leaned against the wall just watching her. She lets out a large breath and then sits up. 

“What?” 

“I didn’t,” you shake your head, not sure what she’s asking. “Nothing. I didn’t say anything.”

“I know, but you look like you want to, so what? Just say it. Don’t be a coward again.” Her words are harsh, insulting you in a way she hadn’t ever before. To be fair to her you realized you had also never yelled at her before either.

“I’m not a coward.”

“Hiding your feelings for 6 whole years, 5 of those years when we were best friends feels a little cowardly, but that’s just my opinion.” You hadn’t seen Jessie like this often, especially towards you, she was almost being mean, not caring what she said to you or how she was saying it. 

“Fine, what did you say about me to her? Before you broke up, you said that you said stuff to her about me that you shouldn’t have. What did you say?” You can’t help but ask, the question of what she had said had been sitting in your brain since she mentioned it.

When Jessie doesn’t respond right away you push her. “Don’t be a coward.” You mock her tone from earlier using her own words. She rolls her eyes at you.

“She accused me of moving to try and be closer to you, she said I wanted to rekindle our relationship. And by that point I couldn’t take her nagging about you anymore and so I was honest with her. I told her the reason I had kept all of your stuff, the reason I checked up on you, the reason I would look at old photos of us, even though you didn’t care about me anymore. I had to tell her my memories of you were comforting for me.” She looks you in the eyes for a second before looking down at her hands.

“Those memories felt like home, that you felt like home. And I then had to tell her that was something I had never felt with her.”

You’re not sure how to respond, trying to process all of Jessie’s words before saying anything back to her. You move off the wall and sit down on the couch, putting some distance between where you both sat.

“Naturally, admitting having feelings for someone else to your current partner doesn’t go over well so that was the end of that.” She mumbles as you sit down.

“You have feelings for me?” Maybe you had heard her wrong, doubting that this conversation was actually happening. She slowly blinks at you.

“Did they check you for a concussion after the hit?” Her question only confuses you more. 

“What?” 

“Oh my god.” Jessie throws her hands up. “Yes, I have feelings for you. That’s what I just said, I just didn’t really know that they were those kinds of feelings until you stopped talking to me and I realized how important you were and that it felt like I was missing a part of me that no one besides you could fill. And then I had her, and that was fine for a little bit, but she wasn’t you.”

You have half a thought to call her out, call her a coward the way she had to you for hiding her own feelings, but decide against it. 

The silence takes over the room, you’re not sure what to say to her. What do you say to someone you’ve been secretly in love with for 5 years when they finally admit they want you back? Where do you even start to make up for the time you both wasted? Where do you go from this conversation? 

Thankfully you don’t have to figure it out at that moment as both your phone and Jessie’s vibrate and light up, both of you reviving the notification that the Angel City and Orlando game was set to start. 

Jessie looks up from reading the notification, “Do you still want to watch the game? I understand if you don’t, I probably wouldn’t want to stay around someone who called me a coward.” 

“I want to stay, if that’s okay. You can yell at me and call me whatever, but just being around you has really made me realize how much I’ve missed your company. So, I’d like to stay if you’ll let me?” 

“Of course.” She reaches for the remote on her coffee table and points it toward the tv turning it on.

“Can I get that ice pack you offered earlier?” No longer caught up in the intense conversation you feel the pain from your nose starting to return in full force. Jessie tosses the tv remote in your direction and hops up from the couch immediately, rushing to her freezer. She comes back with an ice pack, a bag of frozen veggies, a towel, and a bottle of pain meds. 

“Do you want to just sit and hold it or lay down? I can get you a different pillow. I brought the towel in case the direct ice is too cold. And if you want these.” She gives the bottle of medicine a shake. “I also wasn’t sure if the ice pack would sit nicely on your face so I got this.” She holds out the package of frozen vegetables to you. 

“Yeah that’ll actually probably work best.” You take it from her hand. “Thanks.” You add. She placed the pain meds on the coffee table and leaves to put the other ice pack back in the freezer. You use the remote to find the game, and Jessie returns as they commentators start talking about the starting lineups for each side.

When Jessie sits down you notice she sits a lot closer to you then the two of you had been before. Your hips and thighs are only inches apart. She leans back and puts her feet up onto the table. 

You both sit in what is now a more comfortable silence, watching the game. You both make comments here and there about footwork, ball movement, passes, shots, critiquing and complementing the players. At halftime Jessie stands up, takes the now thawed bag of vegetables from you and brings it back to the freezer. She comes back from the kitchen with a bowl of popcorn and waters.

When she sits back down, she closes the gap between the two of you. The outside of her leg now resting against the outside of yours. She places the popcorn bowl so that it rests on both of you. Jessie leans back to rest against the back of the couch and you do the same. The game starts back up again, you both focusing your attention back to the tv. 

It only takes 5 minutes into the second half for you to feel Jessie shift in her seat. She’s moving only slightly but being hyper aware that she’s pressed up against you, you can’t help but notice her movements. Your breath catches in your throat as you feel her lean her head over, placing it to rest on your shoulder, leaving her body more forcefully against yours. Your whole body tenses, not wanting to move and disturb her. 

You stay like this for a couple minutes. Deciding you couldn’t let her make all the moves you glance down to see Jessie’s hands resting on top of each of her thighs. You place your own hands in the same position, then move the one closest to her, in her direction. You move just as slow as she had until your pinky finger is hovering just over hers. You slowly let your hand fall on top of hers, she doesn’t pull away, or tell you off. Instead she flips her hand so her palm is now facing up. Eager to finish what you had started you now quickly move your hand, interlocking your fingers with hers. You wait a minute, then let the pad of your thumb gently rub against her thumb.

You stayed in that position, holding her hand, her head resting on your shoulder as the two of you watched the remainder of the game. Wanting more time with Jessie you desperately were hoping for an insane amount of added time, unfortunately only 3 minutes are added and the game is quick to end.

Jessie pulls her head off your shoulder, sitting up with a yawn.

“I should probably get back.” You say, realizing it was nearing 9pm and while you didn’t have a curfew, you still didn’t want to be caught coming back too late by any of your teammates knowing you’d never hear the end of it, especially since they knew you were at Jessie's.

“Right.” Jessie stands up from the couch and flips a light on. The sun had gone down as you watched the game and the two of you were in the dark without the light from the tv. She holds her hand out to you, you take it and stand up. You quickly pull out your phone and order an Uber, thankful you were in a larger city and your ride would be here in less than 5 minutes. You move toward the door, bending down to slip your shoes on before standing up facing Jessie. 

“It feels weird to say that I had a really good time tonight with all the yelling that happened, but I did. I had a really good time with you Jessie.” You smile at her.

“I had a good time too, this was nice. I’ve missed you.” She replies to you. She holds her arms out to you, offering a hug. You take a step toward her, leaning in to wrap your arms around her waist as she places hers on your shoulders. You stay hugging, longer than a normal friend’s goodbye hug would be. You both release the hold on each other but you don’t move back from her. You stay face to face, your eyes staring back at her brown ones. 

Much to your surprise Jessie is the one who makes the move. One of her hands comes up to your cheek, her fingers are warm and soft on your skin. Her eyes break contact with yours dropping to your lips quickly and then back up. She starts to lean in but stops just moments before your lips would connect.

“Is this okay?” Her voice is barely audible, quieter than a whisper. 

“Yes.” Before you have a second to think about kissing her it’s already happening. It’s a gentle kiss, her lips just placed on top of yours. She starts to pull away a second later, but you let your head chase her lips, giving her a bit more forceful of a kiss. In doing so, you bump your nose against hers causing you to pull back quickly from her, hand coming to clutch your nose.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry I forgot about your nose.” Jessie’s eyes are wide as her hand comes to rest on the forearm of the hand holding your face.

“It’s okay Jess, that was my fault, I forgot too for a second.” You wipe your hand under your nose and look down at your fingers making sure you’re not bleeding again. “It’s not crooked or anything right?”

“No, but those black eyes are starting to come in.” Her eyes dart between both of yours. You both let out a small laugh and then are left in silence.

“I’d like to take you out sometime, on a proper date, if you’d want that?” You look at her hopeful she’ll want to continue whatever the two of you started.

“I do, I want that.” She smiles back at you, you let out a sigh of relief. 

“Okay.” You can’t help but smile big back at her.

“Okay.” She just repeats your words.

“I should be going.” You repeat your words from earlier, you knew you had to go, you just didn’t want to.

Jessie moves her hand from your forearm up to your face to grab your chin. You think for a second she’s going to kiss you again but then she’s pushing your head away from her and to the side. She moves in and places her lips on your cheek. 

“Once your nose is healed you can have more on the lips.”  She says teasingly. The gentle gesture has you blushing more than the kisses to your lips did. She releases your face and you see her eyes look at your cheeks, the blush growing. You turn quickly facing the door, grabbing the handle and stepping out. 

“Goodnight Jessie.” 

[bbrissonn]

𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞 - 𝐠𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐲

↬ in which after years of pinning after you, gavin finally decides to go for what he truly wants. ↬ pairing: gavin brindley x casey!reader ↬ wc: 5.3k ↬ warnings: slightly nsfw, read at your own risk, not proofread, lowercase intended ↬ disclaimer: gavin's lowkey an asshole for a bit, but they get a happy ending ! ↬ autors's note: this was requested by an anon, but i accidently deleted it so oopsie, was supposed to just be a small blurb but i got carried away like always. i was listening to a random playlist when experience by ludovico einaudi started playing and this became so angsty to sorry about that

you and seamus had always been close. when he started playing hockey, so did you. hockey wasn't all that popular in florida, the boys barely being able to have a team for their age group each years. meaning the possibility of having a girls team was pretty much impossible. which lead to you joining seamus' team when you turn 8. you joining the team meant you were now teammates with gavin brindley, a boy from your neighborhood, who also happened to be shea's best friend.

the two of you were never close, whenever is familly came over you'd chose to spend time with his sister. even if the two of you were on the same team, you were still just his best friend's little sister.

when seamus left for the NTDP, everything was weird. not only did you lose your defense partner, but it also felt like you had lost a part of yourself. which is why when the umich women's hockey team offered you a spot on their team, you waisted no time accepting their offer.

of course it wasn't going to be like before, you and shea playing together, but it was close enough. the two of you would be back in the same time, having the time of your lives playing the sport you love the most.

unfortunately, the two of you couldn't share a dorm like you hoped. so, shea opted for gavin as his roommate, and you with another freshman on your team. but you barely ever spent time in there, always being over at shea's dorm. the brindley boy never minded much attention to the two of you, leaving the two of you to be in your own little world.

you and gavin had maybe spoken no more than four sentences to each other since you both arrived in michigan. couple of greetings here and there, but nothing more. which is why when he showed up along with your brother to your team's home opener, you were shocked. even more when you saw him waiting outside of the locker room after the games, your brother no where in sight.

"hey." he smiled at you when you walked out, making you stop in your tracks. you looked around quickly, seeing if seamus was near, but no one else seemed to be around.

"hi?" you spoke confused. this was probably the first time the two of you had ever spoken to each other with no one around.

"you did great." he said with a smile. a small one of your own grew on your face, rocking backwards on your heels.

"thanks. uh, i don't wanna come off as rude or whatever, but what're you doing here exactly?" you questioned him with an awkward smile. he stared at you for a couple of seconds before snapping out of whatever weird trance he was in.

"i came with shea."

"i meant what are you doing here?" you repeated, looking around the hallway.

"oh. um, well, i was waiting outside but one of your teammates brought me here."

"gavin, you know that's not that i meant." you pushed. you weren't exactly sure what game he was playing, but you were already growing tired.

"honestly?" he asked, making you nod your head, which made the boy in front of you sigh. "i don't know." he answered, making you scoff slightly.

"gavin we played on the same team for 7 years and you barely ever spoke to me. now, all of the sudden, you wait for me after my games? what's going on? did something happen with shea?" you panicked. normally, it was always seamus waiting for you after game, and vice-versa, never seamus' friends.

"shea's fine. i, uh, i went to the bathroom and when he came back he was gone."

"it's a five minute walk, gavin." you mumbled as your last teammate left the locker room. the boy in front of you looked down at the ground, biting his lip slightly as he realized he had been caught, no more excuses coming to him.

"i wanted to see you." he whispered honestly, a slight shade of pink taking over to apple of his cheeks. he sighed when his eyes met yours, your brows furred. "i just... i don't know, ever since we got to michigan, it's just been different."

"what do you mean?" you questioned confused. you truly didn't understand what he was trying to say, and you were growing tired of him beating around the bush.

"you've always been shea's sister to me, right?" he started. "but i don't want you to just be his sister anymore." he continued when you nodded. your brows furred again at his words, still confused.

"gav..." you trailed off as the boy started avoiding eye contact again.

"when i came over for the first time when you guys moved, i wasn't there for shea. i wanted to have a playdate with you, but my mom called yours and then i got dragged to your garage. i've always wanted to get to know you, but seamus told me to stay away from you, but i don't wanna stay away anymore." he finally admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

"gavin..." you trailed off again, being at a lost for words. he had always been seamus' best friend. always. the two of you have known each other since you were kids, yet he felt like a total stranger because of how little you knew about him.

"i've seen the way you look at me, y/n. and i know you've seen the way i look at you." he whispered softly, taking a stop closer to you. your fingers brushed against each other, your heads inches away.

"shea-"

"what shea doesn't know won't kill him." he smirked, using a phrase he's heard you use so many times during your gossip sessions with your twin.

"he's gonna know, i physically can't lie to him."

"then we can just tell him, y/n/n. why do you think he left without me?" he asked, his pointer finger coming bellow your chin and lifting your head so you were looking at him. you could feel his breath against your face as his eyes looked down at your lips, and that's all you needed before leaning in and connecting your lips.

both of his hands quickly flew to your waist as yours went to the back of his neck and head, your fingers brushing through his curls. your kiss quickly went from soft and slow to messy and quick. his arms fully wrapped around your waist as your tongues met in the middle. a groan left his mouth as you pushed your body against his, your chest flat against his as your hands travelled deeper in his curls.

after a minute or two, one of your hands came to his chest, your fingers looping in the necklace that adored his neck. when the boy pulled away from you to catch his breath, you were quick to pull him back after a couple of seconds. the two of you smiled into the kiss, your teeth clashing together as a small giggle escaped your lips.

gavin's hands started to travel down further your back, until a loud couch was heard in the hallway. the two of you pulled away, looking in the direction of the cough, only to see one of the janitors staring at the two of you. a dark shade of read appeared on your face before the brindley boy grabbed your hand and started guiding towards the exit of the arena.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

it had now been a week since that night, and you had yet to tell your brother about your new found romance with his best friend. it wasn't like you didn't want to, you did, you really did, and you tried. you were planning on telling him after three days, but that plan quickly dissipated when seamus started rambling on and on about how thankful he was that gavin had chosen michigan as well, and how grateful he felt to have a brother by his side.

guilt took over as you couldn't shake the feeling that you were betraying your brother. scared of how he was going to react, you decided to keep it to yourself, and you had yet to find another moment to tell him about it. you called gavin, freaking out about what the two of you had done, but he was quick to calm you down. he reassured you that seamus should be happy that the two of you were happy together, and if he wasn't, he'd have to get over it.

which lead to this moment, gavin's large frame above yours as the two of you were in nothing but undergarments. his lips slowly travelling down your body as soft moans echoed in his shared dorm room.

seamus had a class, meaning gavin had the dorm to himself, and you two were quick not to waist a single second you could have alone. shea's class was two hours long, and his professor often went beyond that time by thirty minutes, meaning the two of you had plenty of time.

"gav!" you gasped when his fingers started rubbing small circles against your clit. you had quickly rushed to his dorm from your class after seeing his text almost an hour ago, your body still full of need after the previous night. the two of you were sharing a heated make out in your dorm until your brother called gavin, urging him to come back to their dorm.

thankfully you and gavin shared a class, so using the excuse that you were helping him study was one your twin brother believed quite easily. he did find it a little weird how quickly the two of you became close, but he decided to brush it off, telling himself he was probably just overthinking it.

but this, this he was sure he wasn't overthinking. the first thing he saw when he walked into his dorm was your bra flying to the ground. at first, he just though gavin had decided to use up their free room and get laid. he couldn't blame him, sharing a dorm was making the two of them quite sexually frustrated as hooking up with someone while your best friend is laying on the bed at the end of yours was pretty awkward. seamus was supposed to be gone for at least three hours like always, but his professor's wife went into labor and ended the class early.

he was about to walk away when he heard gavin mumble something that made him stop dead in his tracks. he wasn't sure if he had just misheard what his best friend said, but when gavin repeated himself louder, he was sure he was hearing right.

"fuck, y/n/n."

"gav, hurry up, please!" he heard you whine as what sounded like a condom packaging was being opened. seamus felt his heart drop in his stomach. he had left gavin at the rink after your game because he just wanted the two of you to be friends, not have sex in his room while he was gone.

"don't worry, baby, shea won't be back for another two hours. we got plenty of time. gonna make you feel so good." when he heard those words, his hands went numb, and the door handle slipped from his grip, making the door slam shut. the loud noise made you and gavin jump slightly.

"y/n?" you heard seamus' shaky voice ask. when you looked to your side, no one was there, meaning he was still standing at the door. your heart broken at the sound of your brother's voice, the guilt once again coming back. gavin had a finger over his mouth, telling you stay quiet, but you couldn't.

"shea." you breathed out loud enough for your brother to hear as you pushed gavin off of you. your hands reached for your shirt that was on the bed, quickly throwing it on as you avoided making eyes contact with gavin. the boy tried to stop you from reaching for your underwear, which were also on the bed, but quickly gave up when you brushed him off, standing up from the bed and slipping them on.

you grabbed both your pair of pants that were laying at the end of the little hallway leading to the door, your eyes meeting seamus' when you leaned back up. your brother was frozen, tears starting to form in his eyes. you were about to started walking towards him, but gavin joined you. one of is hand reached for his pants you were holding, while the other landed on your back. his pressed a small kiss to your temple, trying to reassure that everything was going to be okay.

but his action only seemed to make the situation even worse. seamus' brows furred as anger now took over. his eyes went from broken to angry and the words he spoke next were not the ones you wanted to hear.

"get out." he whispered harshly, his eyes staring into gavin's.

"shea-"

"it's fine." gavin mumbled in your ear before grabbing a hoodie. "i'll be outside." he added before making his way to the door. your brother's eyes never left his best friend until the door was close, and they shifted to you.

"with gavin? really?"

"i tried to tell you, i swear i did-"

"how long?" he asked firmly, cutting you off. "a month? two? five? a year?"

"no, god, no, shea. a week. it was after my game, when you left gav at the rink. i never meant to hurt you, but i deserve to be happy, shea." you admitted, the two of you still standing in the same spots.

"and you couldn't find somebody else to be happy with? it had to be him?"

"shea you've known since we were kids how i've felt about him."

"you said he was just some childhood crush, y/n!" seamus spat, raising his voice slightly as he approached you.

"he is! he was! but he's felt the same way about me all along, and i'm tired of not letting myself be happy just for you." you said, standing up for yourself. all your life you had always just listened to seamus without really questioning what he was saying, almost letting him dictate your life, but you were tired of that.

"you really wanna be with him?"

"yes."

"then go be with him, but stay the hell away from me." he mumbled harshly before pushing past you and going over to his desk where he dropped his bag.

"shea, please."

"leave." he said firmly. his back was facing you and it wasn't until he heard the door close that he let a tear slip from his eyes. on the other side of the door, gavin was met with your red eyes filled with tears. the boy was quick to bring you into his chest, holding you tight against him. thankfully your dorm was on the same floor as theirs, so the brindley boy waisted no time bringing over there.

your roommate was gone, having a class of your own, something you were grateful for as you started breaking down in gavin's arms once the two of you were sitting on your bed. the mood completely different from the last time the two of you were there together.

"it's okay, sweetheart. he just needs some time." gavin mumbled as his thumbs rubbed small circles on your arm and back, trying to help you calm down.

"he hates me." you cried out, and gavin felt his heart ach for the two of you. you had always been so close, and he couldn't help the guilt he felt for making the two of you drift apart.

"i'm sorry."

"it's not your fault, gav. he's an asshole."

"he's your brother. twin brother."

"who's an asshole." you spoke through your sobs. gavin chuckled slightly at your words, you were never really one to use foul language, expect when it came to your brother.

"hey, look at me. i promise, everything's gonna be okay. he's just shocked right now, and the way he found out wasn't... ideal." he said, trying his best to comfort you.

"i'm scared he's gonna hate me forever."

"he's your twin, y/n/n, he can't hate you. just give him some time to clear his head, okay?" gavin said, his hand cupping your face and pressing a kiss to your lips after you nodded slightly.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

the next couple of days were weird for everyone. gavin and seamus barely ever spoke to each other, something everyone on their team noticed. nolan had tried to make them fix whatever the problem was, but neither of them wanted to talk about it.

whenever gavin would leave their dorm during the evenings, seamus would shoot up a dirty look, making gavin roll his eyes every time he would end up in the hallway. things between you and gavin were amazing, no one had ever made you feel as happy as he did. he was doing an amazing job at making sure you were okay at all time, waiting for you outside the class you shared with your brother.

it was truly perfect, well besides the fact that seamus still hadn't talked to either of you. even your parents all the way in florida could sense something was wrong, especially when the two of you joined the weekly family face time from your own dorms and barely spoke during said facetime.

but that all change one morning when you and gavin got woken up by a loud knock at the door. you let out a loud groan as the person once again knocked. your roommate had gone home for the weekend since he family lived in detroit and you guys had the weekend off.

"can you go open it, please?" you asked gavin, who had officially asked you as his girlfriend the night before. the boy didn't answer, instead just pressing a kiss to your forehead before getting out of your bed and going to open the door.

"hi." you heard your brother say, almost making you jump out of your bed. gavin stood at the door, only wearing boxers, giving your brother the very wrong idea of what he just walked into.

"we were sleeping." gavin mumbled harshly, knowing where his best friend's mind went to.

"can i come in?"

"depends. are you gonna yell at her again?" gavin asked, crossing his arms over his chest. before seamus had the chance to answer, you appeared next to your boyfriend. the two hockey players were both looking at you, waiting to hear your answer. your fingers interlocked with gavin's, his hands squeeze yours lightly before you nodded, stepping to the side to let your brother in.

you and gavin ended up sitting on your bed, your hands locked together, while shea sat at your desk chair.

"i'm sorry for how i reacted. i shouldn't have gotten mad like that, 'm sorry." your brother spoke after about a minute of awkward silence. you could tell by the look in his eyes that he truly felt bad for how he acted.

"i'm sorry we lied to-"

"we didn't lie. we just didn't say the truth." gavin cut you off, making you let out a sigh. you knew he was right, but him saying that wasn't going to make the situation any better.

"you know, i don't remember asking you to be here for this conversation." seamus said harshly, his eyes staring into gavin's. the younger boy scoffed at your brother's words, making himself comfortable on your bed.

"i'm apart of this."

"doesn't mean i was talking to you."

"she's my girlfriend, you talk to her, you talk to me." gavin said protectively. he hated having to see you cry in his arms almost every night for the past week, and he wasn't going to let seamus off the hook so easily for what he did. seamus' started throwing daggers gavin's way, and you knew you had to intervene before the situation escalated.

"gav, can shea and i talk for a moment, please? alone." you said making gavin take a deep breath as he started into seamus' eyes. you squeeze his hands slightly, making him look over at you. "i'll be fine. i'll text you if i need you, okay?" you added as gavin leaned his forehead against yours, your free hand cupping his cheek as you pressed a small peck to his lips.

"i'll go see what the fants are up to." he whispered in your ear before standing up from the bed, sending a glare in shea's way, before leaving your room.

"so... you guys are official?"

"yup."

"i'm happy for you, y/n, i really am. and you were right. you deserve to be happy and be with someone who makes you happy. but i want you to understand how it makes me feel. gav's been my best friends since forever, and you've been my best friend forever. i don't want to lose you to him, or lose him to you, y/n/n." he explained.

"you're not losing anyone, shea. your my twin, you're stuck with me forever." you joked, but when your eyes met his you were reminded of why he was here. "you were an asshole, shea."

"i know, and i'm so sorry, y/n/n."

"if you do it again, i'm gonna have to snitch to mom and dad." when his brain registered what you had just said, he finally realized that you weren't mad at him. "but you can't be mad at gav, shea. if you're not mad at me, you can't be mad at him, it's not fair."

"y/n-"

"no. he went behind your back just as much as i did. it's not fair, shea. we never meant for you find out the way you did, and i'm sorry it happened that way, but you can't be mad at him." you cut him off.

"i can’t not be mad at him, y/n/n. he promised me nothing was going on between you two, he lied to me.” shea spoke, making you a little confuse.

"he lied? when?"

"you know when i went on that little rant about him, i asked him earlier that day if anything had happened after your game, and he swore nothing happened. he lied."

"he only lied because i told him i wanted to tell you, shea, not because he wanted to. he wanted me to tell you that same night, but i... i was too scared of how you were going to react. and clearly i was right for being scared." you stated, getting a little angry at the end. your brother scoffed at your words, standing up from your chair and pacing around the room.

"of course you're gonna side with him." he mumbled under his breath, but it was still loud enough for you to hear. his words made you stand up from your spot on your bed, placing a hand on his chest to stop his pacing.

"okay, now you're being an asshole again, shea." you said, a stern look on your face as you stared into his eyes.

"whatever." he whispered, rolling his eyes before leaving your room. you let out a loud sigh before hearing the door open and close once again. a pair of hands landed on your hips, lips pressing a kiss behind your ear.

"you lied to him?" you mumbled as you leaned back against the brindley. he let out a sigh of his own as his arms wrapped around your waist.

"i did." he confirmed. he knew that lying to his best friend was eventually gonna come back and bite him in the ass, he just didn't except for it to come from you.

"you could've told me."

"i know, and i'm sorry i didn't. but you already had so much to worry about, i didn't want shea's and i's friendship to worry you even more." he whispered softly in your ear, pecking the shell of your ear after.

"things were going so good, and then he just started being an asshole again." you informed him, turning around in his hold so you were chest to chest. your hands went to the side of his neck, your fingers playing with some of his curls.

"he's mad at me, baby, not you. heard him and rut talkin' 'bout it." gavin mumbled in the shell of your ear as he pulled you into him.

"it's not fair."

"i know, baby, but it's gonna be okay. listen, i know it's bad timing, but coach wants me to go down to the rink. i'll be back as soon as i can, okay?" he said, as the two of you pulled away slightly. you nodded your head slightly and gavin pressed a kiss to your lips before leaving the room with his things.

you decided to meet up with some of your friends to go grab a quick breakfast at a cafe near your dorm. you talked with them about what happened, desperate for some advice. you eventually settled on a plan, and as soon as you got back to your building, you went straight to seamus' room.

when your brother opened the door, the two of you just stared at each other, before you pushed past him and into his room. you heard him let out a long sigh before joining you in the middle of the room.

"sit." you said, looking at his desk chair. he quickly listened, wanting to get this over with. "gavin's your best friend, shea. he's always been your best friend. he loves you, and he cares about you. and this you being mad at him thing is stupid and selfish of you. we're happy together, and you should be happy for us, not mad at us. he's your best friend, and he's hurting because you're not talking to him. i am the one who waited to tell you, if you're gonna be mad at anyone be mad at me, but not him." you cried out, tears forming in your eyes as memories from two nights ago filled your head.

gavin was over at your dorm, watching a movie when the two of you started talking. he eventually admitted to you how much it hurted him that shea was ignoring him. he even cried a little in your arms because of it. never had you seen gavin cry, not even after he was injured or a hard lose. never.

"i know, but i can't be happy for you, y/n. i know how he is, he breaks hearts, y/n. i don't want him to hurt you. even if he wasn't my friend, i wouldn't be happy for you. this isn't about you being with my best friend, this is how about how he treats girls. and i'm not just stand there and act like i'm okay with you being with him. i don't want you to see you hurt. he cheated on his last two girlfriend's, y/n, and i don't want that to happen to you too." seamus explained. tears started falling from your eyes as the more he talked.

"that's not true, he isn't like that."

"i was there, y/n, both time! i was the one who told them! i don't want the next girl i'm stuck giving that talk to is you, i can't. i won't be the one who hurts you." your brother added, as tears of his own pilled in his eyes. meanwhile, more started rolling down your cheeks.

"i really like him, shea. he makes me really happy, and he's different now."

"you don't know that." seamus exclaimed, standing up from his seat.

"he's not like that, shea. please, just give him a chance. i really want this, shea. i really wanna be with him." you begged. the look on your face finally making him break his protective big brother roll.

"fine, but i swear, y/n, if he does anything-"

"thank you! thank you!" you said, rushing into your brothers arm. your arms wrapped around his torso as you let out a small sniffle, while his went around your shoulders.

"if he hurts you-"

"he won't."

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

"what's going on?" you asked walking into your dorm room later that week. after your little talk with seamus, he had a long with gavin. first talking to him as your big brother, warning him about what would happen if he hurts you. then as his best friend, telling him not to mess it up because he could tell how happy you two were.

gavin wasn't really sure what you had said to him while he was at Yost that morning. but whatever you said, he was thankful you did. you could hangout outside of your dorm room, hold hands whenever you wanted, and you could swear you had never been happy before.

"thought we could finally have that playdate." gavin said, walking towards you as he held a hand out. the lights were out, a bunch of candles light up on your desk as he guided you into the room.

on your bed were a bunch of your favourite snacks, along with some flowers. next to those was a box, the words guess who? written on it, making your jaw drop.

"you remember?" you asked excited, but at the same time embarrassed.

"do i remember you harassing shea until we were like 12 to play guess who every day? of course i do."

"gosh, i am so glab puberty's a thing."

"so am i." gavin smirked, his eyes staring at your boobs. you were wearing a shirt with a very deep v neck, the bra you were wearing making your boobs show even more.

"hey, eyes up here mister." you said, snapping a finger in his face. the boy chuckled slightly before grabbing the flowers and handing them to you.

"my lady."

"thank you kind, sir." you answered, also using a british accent. the two of you laughed slightly before gavin pressed a long kiss to your lips.

the two of you spent the night eating snacks, playing guess who over and over again until gavin finally won. you had also convince him to finally start watching pretty little liars with you.

that night spend together was probably one of the best night of your life. it only made your feelings for the boy that much stronger, and the he felt the same way.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

"okay, could you at least not shove your tongue down each other's throat while i'm here." seamus mumbled from his bed, making you and gavin pull away from each other. "i don't want any nephews or nieces."

"you're just jealous."

"your boyfriend has a bigger butt than you, y/n." seamus said bluntly, making you and gavin gasp at his words.

"it's not that flat." you said, looking at your brother before turning to look at gavin. "right?"

"it's not. gavin's butt is just huge."

"i do have a pretty big booty."

"and i still can't believe you won't share your ass workout with me." you sassed your boyfriend, making seamus chuckle slightly.

"and i'm telling you it's genetics!"

"i'm serious though. if you guys wanna get all freaky, go to your dorm." seamus cut your little chat off. his eyes were looking at your eyes, making you roll your own.

"it's girl's night over there."

"sucks for you, but you're not having sex here."

"shea, when two people love each other..." you started, but you were stopped by your twin brother throwing one of his extra pillow on you.

"shut up! i'm going to sleep. get that smile off your face, brindley. i'll still hear you."

[qvrcll]

Hi! So I love your blog and I have a request if you're up for it!

So imagine Vendetta!Leon or ID!Leon with a younger, Rookie D.S.O agent. So the reader is learning about what it takes to be an agent and they are skilled but a little reckless. The reader and Leon end up going on a mission together and something happens to where the reader does something risky/reckless to save Leon and afterwards while Leon is patching them up he's also scolding them for putting themselves into a dangerous situation...

I just thought it was a cute idea and I adore your blog so obviously no pressure and thank you regardless! :)

change

summary: training to be a d.s.o agent has its perks and its fair share of dangers, and who would know that best other than the acclaimed leon s. kennedy? former rookie cop turned myth, you’re troubled as you try to not question your worth to your duty — to him.

warnings: intense violent imagery, d.s.o. agent reader, talk of death / loss, talk of wounds / stabbing, weapons mentioned, angst (comfort i swear!!!!!!!), written with infinite darkness ! leon in mind

a/n: bam stop using deftones songs as titles FAILED. and hello??? ur mind??? revolutionary. but thank u so much for the request!! i did make it more angsty than intended 😭 but happy ending i swear !! this is just a general disclaimer, but i’m trying my best to get as many requests done as possible, but finding myself easily burnt out, so please bare with me if i take some time to get these pieces out!! enjoy :-)

word count: 3.5k+ (help)

You’re well put together — inundated at the seams and bursting in the areas that made you an excelling recruit, something of a common place practice when one gets appointed to a station as alpine as the D.S.O.

It’s gruelling at first. The training, not the people — the people here offer you awkward but veritable grins, cloying pats on the head when you’d surpassed a notable fix in your inculcation, maybe even conversation in places you’d expect hard worn expressions, bumps of the shoulders, a lack of acquiescence for a new comer such as you.

“Turns out, there’s a new donut place opening in the city” someone speaks through a mouthful of food, grinning when admonished by their peer. They look at you with tired yet cordial won eyes, something like a respite in comparison to the gruelling training and pains you endure in staple hours.

You laugh, craning backwards, replying “Really? Wanna go sometime?”

And they teem, sheen with surety as you set a date. The date passes and you’ve got your fridge brimmed with donuts — pastel, sugar coated and chockfull of profuse fillings.

You’re home. You’re staring at your laptop. The device whirrs with effort, the screen fulgent with simulated light as block words stare back at you — MULTIPLE KILLED IN GOVERNMENT ORDAINED PROJECT. SEVERAL INJURED.

The next day, you press your lips together and wait for the space ahead to be filled with a familiar face, some day old blistering talk about donut shops and parties and mandated leaves.

No one comes. You chew your bread in wanton silence.

And your days blur as usual — your attitude is unparalleled. You give yourself the credit for coarsening against such losses, of confidants who offered you their time and remaining nuance of sentience. You don’t, however, congeal like they do. You do not die or recoup.

You move senselessly and so do the days.

It’s several months later, when you’ve gathered yourself in the training room, greased with sweat and vigour, when you meet him.

Leon S. Kennedy, in the flesh.

There’s talk of him in the corridors, rumours of his barely capricious resolve and even more so of his loyalty to the D.S.O. Of his habitual reclusiveness, ordained leaves and near blank appearances.

He’s almost a myth.

Still, you’re real and working and need to cavort around your training till your muscles bleed and chalk up with pain that marks enough effort for the night — you do not want to stay a rookie forever. There’s a insecurity underscored in your brain somewhere, in bright red lines and despite the sweat of your skill in your hands, but you decide to delineate it for tonight. Try to focus on the knotty feel of the compress against your knuckles as you strengthen your feet, begin to get into a stance most up to par, a gracing thought of ‘please don’t break my bones’ pressed into the bean bag before—

“Hello?”

The addition of another voice, besides the earsplitting one in your mind, makes you falter. Makes you lose your footing and touch the target in front of you, rather than skirting it with a hard worn touch — the sight would’ve made you chuckle on a normal day. But today was not normal, it was marked with a accent of irresolutions. So you swivel on your feet, baring your teeth like the caitiff the D.S.O had disillusioned everyone into being. The pretence doesn’t fool anyone, not even yourself, but you give it a try.

And maybe you give yourself some credit, for stoking it up to the myth, the caricature of duty himself, Leon Kennedy. In the flesh, complexion enervated in his well earned stack of muscle, that seemed to be garbed with a leather jacket. Jeans.

How… normal.

You lose tension in your muscles. Ditch the shout in your brows. Abandon the faux, heavy lined bellicosity in your belly for curiosity. Some guilt and embarrassment, too.

“Leon S. Kennedy?” you gasp, feel the air hit your tongue. The room grows a faltering few degrees hotter, and some part of you is convinced you’ll sink into the floor in a matter of minutes.

But Leon offers you one of his complimentary smiles that scream business. His hands are discarded in the wide sinews of his jeans, where they are distracted and nonplussed with the goal of hurting the material with diverted fingers. Yet you linger ahead of him, visibly sweaty and awkward, and it blunders his heart with some peace that you’re biding that same level of awkwardness.

“In the flesh,” he jokes, but the room is too small, too dark to determine tone. To determine the weight of his words or his presence. You still find sentience in you to laugh, snort even, and it makes the air between a lot more genuine, “I’ve come to discuss something here with you.”

“With me?” you croak, not wanting to sound delirious but inevitably falling for the trap — what did the Leon Kennedy want to do with a single recruit that is you? Skilled, yes, but sharing the innumerable roster of missions as him? Not a chance. Still, you grab a towel and a bottle of water, finding rhythm in your step as you talk alongside him to the exit.

Slogging be damned.

He offers a small nod, resigned in a way that made sense to the both of you, “We’re to be assigned in a collaborative project. A mission, if you will,” he opens the door, allows you to step past the threshold first and doesn’t miss the way you flesh out with a terrible blush as you skitter ahead, “Nothing too out of the ordinary for agents like you and me. Just a simple clear up.”

But we are nothing alike, you want to ink the air with the words. And some part of you stiffens as you hear the intractable comparison. Still, you’re curious above all things else and hear him out — not that I can refuse, you add mentally. Scribble out with imaginable red ink.

“When will it be?” you ask, feet jittery and muscles still sheening.

“A month from now” he confirmes. You work to notice the exigent lines of wear and tear on his face, the follow of a stubble beginning to thread against his chin and jaw. The sharpness giving way to kindness in his eyes as he looks at you.

Oh god, he’s looking at you.

“I see,” you say, gaze falling to the gravel and spit of stone as you corner the exit. As the wind hits your skin, you’re pathetically assuming a shiver. You hope Leon isn’t as perceptive as the rumours pin him to be, but you never truly get anywhere with that wish — he places a warm, kind hand on your shoulder, “You’re freezing.”

“Yeah I should probably—“

“Get back?”

“Home, yeah.”

And an awkward, painfully annoying silence courses the space between you two — between you and this acclaimed proxy you barely knew prior to these graceless seconds. The better part of you ushers the thought away and the worse part of you is antsy to prove something — anything.

“Get home safe…” he offers some semblance of a tight lipped smile, again as reclusive as he can get. His back is turned to you, departing, and you’re pulled in the other direction by your feet, when you suddenly turn around.

He’s gone already.

The month beneath his guidance is as you expect it — resilient and tough on the flesh. He manoeuvres you in ways you’d never have begun to correct yourself (“Lift the end of your arms here, instead of down here.”)

He presses feeling and rigour to his praise (“That’s it — you got it. Good job — now give me 20 more.”)

He holds you back from splintering push forwards, from the bridge between you and your apex. Holds a hand against your wet shoulder to shoulder your eagerness (“Woah, woah — don’t get too ahead of yourself.”)

You make it known of your gratefulness. You buy takeout and share it on the stairs. You communicate your worries and walk out free of them.

You also hate him for rubbing raw of your potential. You hate him for the wounded look in his eyes when you falter. You hate him for the itch in his fingers when you push yourself some more.

But you keep that one for the shadows. Don’t make it known. Hide it behind falsity.

You share takeout on the stairs again.

The night before the assignment couldn’t be more gruelling.

You’re welcome by the sheets, yet find no recluse in them, as you twist and turn as the hours come. Your feet are stretched and throbbing with hurt from the range of pushing exercises from the day before, your fingers curling with effort only.

And your head is plagued. Swimming, bathed, with those reticent thoughts. Those same block letters that spoke back to you, flagged the death of thousands you knew from passing glances to remembered conversations.

You turn on your side, try to flush the thought away. But they come back with vigour, with spit.

You knew them.

You’d eaten with them.

You’ll die just the same.

Fuck this.

Your feet find the cold, hard-wood floors immediately. They’re a ridged comparison to the heat of the sheets, but a blistering reminder of what’s to come tomorrow. You pace your apartment, crowd your brain with tasks, busy your hands, till the sun flits past the clouds like routine.

And with your heart in your throat, you ready yourself to the chin, gripping yourself with the promise of doing what you must to euchre death on its own doorstep — both for you and Leon.

The day arrives with a quick start. You’re deployed in a vehicular that is smaller than anticipated, holding your fears in your hands with cupped palms. Leon sits beside you, eyes vacant of anything palpable. You’d talked once, but that’s all of what either of you offered each other up till now — now, it’s you and your fears, cut-throat and fusty, ahead of you.

A thought of your friend passes your mind.

A thought of the donut shop.

A thought of the bottom of your coffee cup.

A thought of the post-mortem images. Of the flesh. The blood. The time. The place.

“Remember,” Leon cards you out of your worst, thoughts crumbling against themselves as you swivel to glance at him, “on me at all times. No sudden moves. Got it?”

He is far more profound here, the spitting image of the rumours materialised into the skin of a battle worn agent — his tone is pebbly, no semblance of that night’s patience in it anymore.

He’s in it for good. And you should be too.

“Got it,” you reply when the seconds flow too far. He nods back, curt and sharp and you want to talk him up. Want to offer your share of strategies. Want to card through the wounds on your arm and how to avoid the bloody things. Want to loop your fingers through half of his experience and not want to set him back.

But it was never that simple. And the ride is just as silent.

Two hours in and you’re stationed against crumbling brick, jagged stone, MK-45 gripped tightly in your hands. The smell of rot, mycelium, abused your lungs. Makes you stagger forward and hold yourself by the seams like flesh on plying bone.

But when you look at Leon, he’s everything but as discomposed as you — his eyebrows are tightly drawn, a shadow to his eyes that wasn’t there prior. There’s a bite in his step, in the way he holds his weapon, in the way he surveys the area.

Get yourself together, you think.

Within minutes, you force yourself to straighten your back, swallow back the burdensome bile stretching against your mouth and prime yourself to the futile smell of the dead at every carrefour you cross.

“Ahead,” Leon speaks and clings to your attention.

You look ahead, noticing an array of groaning zombies clawing at a car that seemed to have initiated its alarm. The smell is amplified by the rub of petrol curdling out of the car (from the repeated clash of the zombies, you’re sure) and you frustrate yourself into not gagging — think ‘fucking hell, I really hate these things.’

“You go to the left, I’ll take the right,” Leon whispers and you realise his motive.

Mutual accomplishment built on the precipice of trust.

Still, he looks at you like he’ll splinter without a response.

Like he relies on this circulation, no matter how damning, how short. His eyes scream ‘don’t you dare do anything stupid’ and you choose to blur it into something nonsensical, a thought of ‘it’s common procedure, a set of instructions he needs to hand feed me’, choosing to ignore the obvious side of things, the bleeding flush of his words, the trepidation nailing every withering seam of his body.

He’d grown to interpret you as more than just a rookie, someone capable of vigour and strength of the winning.

He needed you alive.

You needed him to look at you other than a wounded animal.

You offer him some little nod, feet hurrying up to the fluster of zombies against the few cars gathered there — as you get close, you can see the vegetation cram against the side walk, the stink of flesh against the windshield.

But you’re skilled, not stupid.

Your weapon purrs with warmth in your hand as you pin down the first vier, working your second round of bullets with the other five you’ve attracted— their fractured groans are animalistic, orotund where human capability shouldn’t be.

But you’re twice the work than they ever are.

“Fuck,” you whisper, realising close proximity doesn’t hold up with your choice of weapon — so, working against better judgement, you retrieve your knife by the hilt, scoring it against the reeking flesh of the first two. You quickly gain footing and stab the other two point black in the skull, feeling the vibrating collusion fill the blade.

And you’re close — you feel it. With another plow, the last of them falters to the floor with a wet thump. Blood pools at your feet, curdles against the material of your boot as you curl a hand against your hip in weariness.

And yet, you have half the nerve to concern yourself with Leon.

As you turn, you quickly see that he is struggling. He’s cornered, stuck between a stretch of the building that allows a swift gateway of those creatures to buckle within arm’s reach. And there’s little solace as you learn the fact, as you ready your weapon — you’re aiming before you can think, firing before you can feel.

Leon spots you, as his jaw goes slack.

His voice is swollen with disbelief and you’re sure you catch the words “get out of here!” but you’re moving on the pure pump of your blood, of the stretch of muscle and skill in your body. Two, three, four enemies crumble at the bite of your bullet and your fingers sink against the sting of gunmetal.

Memorise the step of their movements.

Formulate an opening.

Ignore Leon’s snare and his warnings and the way his arms curl around his weapon and the look in his eye and the fickle hope in them and the way they look at you like you’re something wounded.

Ignore the way a grunt sounds in your ear, a pale and cleft palm clinching your shoulder like an orifice — and finally, you realise, Leon had been right.

The zombie is quick to remind you of your mortality — it swings you to the side with it’s astounding asperity, frightens you with the dexterity of its bones as it makes quick work of the distance between you. It’s teeth stitch against cold bone, blood and meat between the gaps.

You gasp out a hoarse cry — your weapon is out of reach and your arm stings with a burn, a swelter. Your leg feels numb and you’re sure you’ve caught it on something, and you’re convinced you’ll be half mauled to death, when suddenly,

“Shit!”

Leon rattles through the zombie towering you, sears it with a knife — it falls atop you like meat and you shove it off with awfully numb hands. You’re barely catching respite as Leon hauls you above his shoulder as he runs to some place else, and the world quickly melts beneath your eyelids.

The next time you’re conscious, it’s much quieter.

There’s a dripping noise from your right — you try to play with that recurring sound till you’ve figured your bearings, but the throb in your head is searing. Your leg jumps with a pain so awful you choke a cry when you’re all opened eyed and slack jaw, and you catch sight of Leon in front of you, balancing your leg atop his lap for inspection.

“L-Leon?” you gasp, feel the burn of your throat. You’ve said nothing but he quickly hands you a water bottle, and you allow yourself the contents almost immediately — “Where are we…?”

“A few ways off the target location. Recuperating,” he answers, too quick, too harsh. You wince, both from his demeanour and the growing image of your maimed leg — the skin is dented with much blood, the flesh peeling apart with ease and the pain hits you like a train. His fingers are trembling and spat with your blood, moseying around the quiver of the wound.

And you can’t figure out where your pain ends and where his anger begins.

For one, there’s some grip to his movement, in the way he bandages the broken flesh of your leg. The way he swats your hand away when you go to dictate the amount of hurt it would bring.

Only then does he look up and your breath hitches — his eyes are red rimmed, mouth set like hard stone in a frown and his jaw sharp, blistering to a furious degree.

“I’m sorry—“

“Are you? Because you would’ve been dead without me having been there” he spits out, lashing against your apologetic words. You press your lips together, a bitter feeling fermenting in every space your framework can produce.

“I said I’m sorry Leon.”

“Will that fix your wound?” He grates and his voice sounds like a threat. It worries you. It angers you. Its rends you like glass, cuts you like a skiver.

“Maybe if you didn’t look at me like a fucking wounded animal, I would quit taking my chances at dying” you force out, tone through clattering teeth when his fingers pause over that delicate and awfully repulsive spot on your leg.

“What?”

“Oh, please don’t play pretend with me Leon,” it’s your turn to hit the brakes, “It’s that look you give me — like I’m some backwater D.S.O rookie here to drag you through glass. Like—Like I’m here to get myself killed.”

You pause, breath cut short with an unsatisfactory cry as you throw your head back from the gushing pain from the wound. You crack open a weary eye to spot his movements have resumed, but his jaw is quivering, jagged, his eyes unfocused and his hair in his face.

Shit, shit, shit — I’ve really done it now.

“Wait, Leon—“

“Is that what you think this is?”

You blink — his fingers are on the ground beside your hips, his eyes flooded with disbelief. Much like earlier, only this time, it’s counterpart being woe instead of anger of disappointment. He lifts his head, cradles the anguish in his eyes with a tattered sigh and you realise, oh. You had it all wrong.

“That you’re just some agent I don’t care about?” he’s close, somehow, “that—that I care for you out of duty?” closer, now, with his breath on your neck, on your face, in your ear, “That I don’t want you gone so soon because I only tolerate you? Not because—I like you?”

Your anger drops its futile act.

“What?” you whisper, because you’re so beguiled that it’s a trick. A trick from the pump of adrenaline in you, from the fear. The sweat. But he’s looking into you, at you, and his stare is not sympathetic. It stinks of love and admiration and truth and some close call of fear.

“I’m saying that I like you.”

There’s a few moments of clouded breath. You’ve never done this before — never held this song and dance of emotion between another and certainly not at a time like this, but god, Leon looks at you like you’re something to be worshipped, not admonished like the wounded thing that you are.

He looks at you like hope.

Like love and love and love.

And you’ve never appreciated the stench of rot on you or another, and you’ve never appreciated distractions. But the burn of his lips against yours is delicious and swirling with something addictive when you meet him with nothing but rigour — he kisses you back like he’s meant to, like he’s going to run out of you if he doesn’t.

And when you pull away, groaning as your leg spasms with hurt, you smile at him gently, curve a laugh from your overworked lungs.

“Buy me dinner first, Kennedy.”

“Kennedy?”

“Would you prefer Scott?”

“God, you’re awful.”

© 2023 qvrcll ! do not repost any of my works on any platform.

[suashii]

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ 𝒜 𝐹𝒪𝒪𝐿 𝐼𝒩 𝐿𝒪𝒱𝐸

info ⭑ geto suguru x reader ﾉ 2.4k wc. ﾉ sfw ﾉ ex-boyfriend geto ﾉ band au ﾉ hurt/comfort ﾉ a wee bit angsty ﾉ some suggestive bits ﾉ reader is tipsy ﾉ ambiguous ending

note ⭑ hi! after writing this, i really wanna continue something with this band au geto! not sure if that means i'll be making this into a series. . . perhaps an anthology? idk! lmk if you'd be interested :3 happy reading !

the streets of tokyo during the late hours of the day are restless—especially here in shibuya. you’d think the bustling crowds, fast pace, and your slightly tipsy state would make it difficult to recognize anyone but the universe seems keen to prove you wrong recently.

because standing at the corner of the street you’re supposed to be turning at is him—the man you haven’t seen in nearly five months and didn’t plan on seeing any time soon.

the sight of geto makes you stop–or more accurately, stumble–in your tracks. you can’t help the way your eyes widen and your mouth hangs open. it’s as if time slows for a couple of seconds in his distant presence. you can’t think straight and you aren’t sure if that’s because of him, too, or if you have the alcohol to blame for that.

regardless, when you finally regain cognitive function after what feels like an eternity, you’re able to tell yourself that you need to turn around and find another route home. unfortunately for you, the thought comes a second too late, geto spinning to face you just before you have the opportunity to turn on your heel. the brief moment of shared eye contact doesn’t stop you from trying to run for the hills, though you quietly curse yourself for getting caught in this predicament while you do so.

you hear the shout of your name from behind you, but you don’t dare come to a halt. your perseverance to escape is futile, made apparent by the newfound proximity of the familiar voice and the feel of fingers snaking around your wrist. you aren’t sure what possesses you to do so, but you quickly swing around to face the man hellbent on catching up to you. he seems just as surprised as you if the way his eyebrows shoot up is any evidence. 

“hey, wait—i come in peace.” geto raises his hands in mock surrender to show that he stands by his words.

you believe him. 

your fingers are cool as they brush against your forehead in an attempt to form a coherent sentence. there isn’t much you can think to say other than, “sorry, i just wasn’t expecting to see you.”

“i gathered as much.” geto nods, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants. he knew this reunion–if it ever even happened–would be awkward, but the air between the two of you is so tense that he finds it a little hard to breathe. he clears his throat before continuing. “kind of looked like you were trying to avoid me though.”

“got me there,” you softly admit.

geto understands but he doesn’t relate. he’s been trying to get a hold of you since he landed back in japan last week and his efforts have been fruitless until now. running into you this way may have been a coincidence but geto doesn’t intend on squandering what just might be his one chance to tell you what has been nagging at his mind for the past few months. “look, i was hoping we could talk.”

the expression that paints your face upon hearing his request is apprehension. he can practically see the blinking red lights and hear the alarm bells going off in your head. and, as much as he hates to admit it, your worry makes sense. the last time he asked you to talk, he broke up with you.

“ten minutes—fifteen, max.” geto attempts to bargain. he hopes the limit on the time you have to spend with him will convince you to agree, to hear him out. it hurts, but after chewing on his cheek, he adds another condition that’ll work in your favor. “and after, if you don’t want to see me again, i’ll leave you alone for good.”

with as much effort as you’ve been putting into steering clear of geto since his return, you’d think his words would come as a comfort to you. they don’t, though. the feelings that surge within you at hearing them contradict your strict avoidance of geto up until this point. they make you confront the fact that you have wanted to see him and can’t stomach the thought of never seeing him again.

you’re taking a risk by doing so, but you nod.

“okay, let’s talk.”

the two of you end up at some park a little ways away from the city center—one where you can see the orangey-red leaves flutter through the air once they fall from the trees and watch the fountain in the pond shoot up water that rains back down. despite how pretty the scenery is, you can’t help but look at geto instead.

it’s been practically half a year since you last saw him. you’re sure he’s changed quite a bit since then but all you can focus on are the ways he’s stayed the same, the little parts of him that you missed while he was gone—like the dragon tattoo that snakes up his shoulder to his collarbone. seeing it floods your head with memories of when the two of you were together. mornings spent tracing the delicate lines with feathery touches, kissing up the ink and coloring the creature with love bites.

you almost flinch at the reminder. your plan wasn’t to revisit the past, at least, not those moments, but seeing the tattoo on display makes it almost impossible. it’s geto’s fault for wearing that stupid sleeveless hoodie. you drag your gaze up to meet the obsidian shards that are his eyes. “strange choice of attire for such a chilly night.”

he rubs his arm at your observation, a grin gracing his lips. “yeah, i didn’t plan on staying out for long.”

you know that you agreed to come with him, but even sitting on opposite sides of the same bench is proving to be overwhelming. so, instead of regarding his innocent statement as simply that, you view it as an out. “if you have somewhere you need to go or someone you’re supposed to meet, we can do this another time.”

“no way.” geto doesn’t let a beat of quiet pass before he speaks and shakes his head. “i finally caught you and i’m not letting you get away so easily.”

the confession stuns you to silence. there are a million thoughts bouncing off the walls of your skull right now–how this wasn’t a good idea, that you weren’t obligated to listen to what he wants to say–but the one that worms its way past the others and to the forefront is that his words are… romantic. it’s frustrating that you aren’t mad at him, especially when you’ve spent so long convincing yourself that you should be.

it seems as though the feelings you tried so hard to bury are beginning to resurface.

you clear your throat. “what was it that you wanted to talk about?”

“right,” geto starts, a hand coming up to scratch at his neck. his tongue pokes out from between his lips to poke at the metal hoops wrapped around them. they’re things he does when he’s nervous, like when he first asked you out on a date or when he’d tune his guitar while waiting to go on stage. you wonder what it is on his mind that has him so on edge. though, you aren’t sure if it’s your place to ask, to show concern like you used to, so you stay quiet.

“i guess i wanted to talk about how we left things,” he finally tells you.

you should have seen this coming, and maybe part of you–a part you were trying to ignore–did. there isn’t much more the two of you can discuss. there have been a lot of unspoken thoughts lingering on your mind since that night, ones that you never planned on letting see the light of day. you’ve gone so long sitting on your feelings; what’s the point in digging them up now?

“what more is there to talk about exactly?” you ask, crossing your arms—using them as a shield. “you broke up with me to go on tour and i told you that i understood—no hard feelings.”

geto is quiet across from you, but you can tell there’s something weighing on his mind, words on the tip of his tongue. a few moments of stillness pass before he spits it out. “i don’t think you mean that. not then and… not now.”

“what do you want me to say, suguru?” you toss your hands up in frustration. your voice has been low, controlled up until this point but rises with your question, with your growing irritation. does he want to humiliate you even more than he already has? your intention of continuing to sit on your feelings, to keep them hidden, is lost with the way words unknowingly spill past your lips. “that i was dumb for thinking that i was worth a little more effort to you? that i should have let go of you as easily as you did me?”

there’s a certain level of relief that comes with your words but they also open up a wound you’ve been trying your best to close. all the emotions you felt that night feel as raw as they did then, as though you’re reliving it all over again. 

the tears return, gathering at your lash line and threatening to fall but never rupturing the dam. the insecurity comes back, too. you can feel the ghost of a knife piercing your heart as you think about how it felt like he had chosen music over you. but who were you to ask him to reconsider—to think of you before his music, his dream?

tonight is turning out to be more than you can handle.

you’re about to stand, apologize for your outburst, and excuse yourself when geto speaks up.

“i didn’t let go of you—not really,” he quietly admits. his hand reaches up to his neck again, fingers twirling the loose hairs that happened to make it out of his bun. the action makes his words carry more truth and while you can’t bring yourself to believe him entirely, hearing them has an uncontrollable effect on you.

one of the tears you were adamant about not shedding until you were out of his sight rolls down your cheek. you quickly wipe it away with the sleeve of your shirt. “you don’t have to say that, it’s not going to make me feel any better.”

“i mean it, though, i do.” when you finally muster up the courage to meet his stare, his eyes tell you that what he said is the truth. his eyes have never lied. “i thought about you every day while i was on tour.”

the confession sends a pang to your heart. it clears up the fog of turmoil clouding your mind, although a haze of uncertainty lingers. does he mean that he missed you—the same way you’ve been hopelessly missing him?

you don’t have to aimlessly ponder, as geto continues.

“look, i asked you here because i wanted to tell you that i regret how i went about things. i thought about my choice–about you–a lot. and i realized a little too late that i owed us a chance. i was scared that we couldn’t handle long distance and that we’d both end up hurt but i never considered the possibility that it might have worked for us.”

geto unconsciously reaches for you, though when he realizes what he’s doing, he thinks better of it, letting his hand rest in his lap instead. just because he’s laying himself bare for you doesn’t mean the pain he’s caused has disappeared. besides, he still has one thing to say before you can even consider forgiving him.

his tongue glides across his lower lip, over the two silver hoops situated on either side. “i made a decision that both of us should have had a say in. i’m sorry.”

beyond the feelings of heartache and self-doubt, the thing you felt most that night was unheard—as if anything you could have thought to utter during that moment would have fallen on deaf ears. geto seems to have noticed that much, reflected on it and recognized his mistake. his apology, the acknowledgment of his fault, unchains the final weight that was tugging at your heart.  

you sniff and dab at the stray tears that have trickled down your face. “thanks for saying so. and… i forgive you.”

there’s a weight of his own that makes geto’s chest feel lighter upon hearing your words. from the minute he started rehearsing this conversation, he imagined that he’d damaged you to the point of being unworthy of your compassion, your forgiveness. this is more than he could have asked for, even if you still choose to take him up on his offer of leaving you alone for good.

“i’m glad,” geto nods, the ghost of a smile playing at his lips, though he doesn’t let the short moment of happiness overtake him. “i know that was probably a lot and if you need to take some time to decide how you want us to proceed, if at all, i understand.”

you shake your head and the corners of geto’s lips fall into a neutral line. he made a good point earlier, one that you can’t ignore if you want to prevent yourself from getting hurt the way you did before. and despite just learning about it, geto was hurting, too. if you can minimize the pain either of you have to experience, you will.

you clear your throat with hopes that your voice will come out steady. “i’d rather come to that conclusion together. since it has to do with both of us, y’know?”

geto’s shoulders slump as the tension seeps from them. “yeah. yeah, of course. whenever you’re ready.”

“we can start tonight if you have time,” you suggest, bashfully rubbing up and down your arms. it really feels like you’re starting over. before you knew his name, simply when you had a crush on the hot guy playing at the bar you were visiting for the night. “i want to hear about how your tour went.”

“okay,” geto easily agrees, the smile from earlier making its way back to his lips. it meets his eyes and the obsidian shards sparkle—with hope.

hi there, sua here! thank you for giving this a read! if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging and/or leaving a comment! much love from me to you ❤︎

[the-wrong-providence]

To Date a Criminal

Bucky Barnes X Celebrity!F!Reader

Word Count: 1,800ish

Warnings: Angst | Talk of ending relationships | Asshole Interviewers | Language | Brief mentions of sexism | Fluff? 

Summary: Bucky’s history is a problem to some of Y/N’s fans

Author’s note: This is more angsty than I originally intended, but life is a shitty mess so there’s no point sugar coating it lmao. Unedited. Didn’t know what to call it, so this is what I landed with.

"A-list celebrity Y/N Y/L/N is speculated to be romantically involved with ex-assassin James Barnes, the Winter Soldier. A lot of people believe that Barnes should be convicted of the numerous murders that he committed over the course of the Cold War, but Y/L/N seems to have no issue flaunting her criminal boyfriend on every platform she has a voice. The 108-year-old man was once a close friend to Capt-" Sam turned the TV off. Bucky stared at the blank screen for a little longer, before swallowing heavily and looking down. Sam wanted to say something but struggled to find the words.

Bucky sighed. "This is fucked," he said after a moment. He appeared to be fairly calm about it, before he slammed his fist down on the table, leaving a small dent in the wood. "What the fuck?" He shouted out, as Sam crossed his arms.

"Buck, you know better than to listen to that shit," he said. Bucky turned to him, shaking his head.

"It's not about me listening to them." He started. "Y/N is being attacked. Even if she doesn't agree, her entire reputation is at stake, for dating me. They're calling me a murderer for fucks sake." Bucky ran his hand through his hair. Sam sighed. Of course, he didn't care what people thought about him. He'd been receiving death threats and insults daily since returning from Wakanda, he was used to it. "She has every reason to leave me. She'd be an idiot not to." He mumbled, turning away from Sam.

Sam sighed. He couldn’t argue with that. But something he’d come to realise is that both Bucky and Y/N were complete dumbasses when together. “Just, talk to her, man,” He replied, leaving Bucky to stew by himself.

*

He sipped his drink slowly, hearing the door slam close and a loud sigh. “You wouldn’t believe the shit I’ve had to deal with today,” She said, throwing her coat onto the back of a dining chair. She bent over the sofa and pressed a kiss against his cheek. “The guy who was interviewing us made some sexist comments before we even began, so we just knew it was going to be a long session,” She kicked off her shoes and sat on the sofa beside him. “It was really tempting to just walk out on multiple occasions, but apparently I needed a better reason,” 

Bucky grinned quickly, before placing his glass on the coffee table. "Baby, we need to talk," He began. Y/N looked at him and her eyes narrowed in confusion. She couldn’t read his expression at all. Her face fell when she realised that his smile had disappeared. 

"What about?" She asked cautiously. Her heart sped up.

Bucky took a deep breath. "You need to break up with me," he said. 

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows at him. Everything was going well. She really liked Bucky and she thought he felt the same for her. "I don't understand. I don't want to." She said.

"And I don't want to either. But people are calling me a murderer." Bucky looked at her finally, and she could see the sadness in his eyes. She let out a deep exhale, relieved that she’d not done anything to upset him.

It took her a moment to think her way around his comment. "But you're not a murderer, and I don’t care what people say," She replied, crossing her arms across her chest.

Bucky smiled softly. Y/N was brazen, just one of the many things he liked about her. “Sweetheart,” He started, “I’m not worth ending your career over,”

She bit the inside of her cheek and turned away. Whilst she held the belief that he very much was worth it, she didn’t want to admit that now. Not if things were going to end. “Do you want this to end?” She asked. He was fairly insistent.

Bucky seemed taken aback. “No, god no, you have no idea how much I don’t want this to happen. But you have to do the smart thing here. You can’t stay with me,”

“I don’t care. I’m not ending this.” She said indignantly.

Bucky rubbed his forehead. Fuck, he loved her stubbornness sometimes, but it was not helping right now. “Your reputation-”

“I’m not worried about my stupid reputation! I couldn’t give less of a shit about it!” She shouted back and Bucky stared at her. She exhaled heavily and furrowed her eyebrows. “The only thing I’m worried about is you, Buck,”

Bucky clenched his jaw and turned away. “Well, that’s really not convenient. Because I worry about you and the way people treat you and the way everyone sees you. And you not giving a shit about that sort of thing really makes my job a lot harder,” He replied, and Y/N smiled. 

She pulled his face back in her direction, and her hand fell to rest on his chest. Pressing a kiss to his lips. “I’d leave everything behind to stop you from worrying,” She admitted and Bucky rolled his eyes.

“You’re crazy if you think I’d let you,” He raised his eyebrows, but grinned, all the same, leaning in to kiss her again.

She pouted at him. “I’m starting to think that you want me to be famous more than I care for it,” She joked.

“Not famous. Successful. I want you to do well, and I like seeing you get the recognition you deserve. I need people to love you as much as I… love you,” He paused at the last words, and looked down, hoping she didn’t notice.

But of course, she did. She’d been waiting to hear those words for weeks now. She stared at him, noticing the slight pink tinge that was creeping up his neck. “Buck,” She began. “I love you too,”

He looked up at her, searching for any hint of a lie. It had been a while since someone had said those words to him and meant it. As if she could tell, she took hold of his wrist and directed his hand to feel her heartbeat. “I love you,” She said again, smiling at him. 

“And if you still think we should break up, then you’re the crazy one. Especially after that super romantic admission of your love for me,” she stated, grinning at him as his cheeks tinged pink. He looked down, but his small smile was very much evident.

He sighed. “You’re right. As much as I hate to admit it,” He said back, as Y/N giggled. She kissed him again, and Bucky’s hand moved to hold her face, his thumb brushing against her cheek. “I love you,” He murmured in the space between them, their foreheads resting against each other.

*

One of the downsides of being a celebrity was having to maintain a social presence. As a result, Y/N had to attend several red carpets that she had no real investment in. This particular time, Y/N was being interviewed by someone from some media outlet that she was unfamiliar with. The questions had strayed from anything remotely related to the public perception of her boyfriend.

“Bucky is not a murderer,” Y/N scowled at the person interviewing her. Her dating life was noones business at the best of times, but it was entirely inappropriate to discuss this right now.

The interviewer smirked at the rise they were getting. “He was one of the worlds most wanted criminals. He’s credited with at least two dozen high-target assassinations. He’s responsible for the Avengers breaking up back in 2016…”

Y/N stared daggers at the interviewer, and their face fell as they noticed. They stopped talking and swallowed heavily. “Bucky is not a murderer. He was given a pardon which has forgiven him-”

“Implying that there was something to forgive.” The interviewer interrupted “Why do you think it’s ok to date a war criminal?” They added.

Y/N lips parted in surprise. “You know what? I don’t have to deal with this. If people have a problem with who I love then that’s their issue. I do not have to listen to you insult my partner.” She snapped back, before storming off to the bathroom.

On her way there, a hand took hold of her wrist and pulled her away. Looking up, she saw Bucky beaming at her. “You look gorgeous, sweetheart,” He held his arms around her waist. His face fell when he saw her look in her eyes. “What’s happened? Are you ok?” his first instinct was to check her over for any injuries.

Instantly she let her tears fall and leant against him. “Why do people have to be assholes?” She bawled out. Bucky hugged her back, resting his chin on the top of her head. He held her tight, letting her cry into his chest.

“What did they say?” He growled, angry that anyone would have the gall to insult his girl. He looked around to determine whos fault it was. If anyone seemed even remotely guilty for the upset that they’d caused, but everyone seemed fairly content with themselves.

She sniffed quietly. “They were being so rude about you! I had to leave the interview,” She replied, and Bucky seemed taken aback. They’d insulted him and she was distraught.

He held her at arms length and looked at her, lowering his head so that she was staring directly into his eyes. “There are always gonna be assholes in the world, but you walking away from them in that situation helps people realise. You are so incredibly brave for walking outside your door every day when you know what people have said about me. And for that I love you. I worship the ground you walk on. I’m honored to have a place in your heart.” He said sincerely, desperate to calm her down.

“But you have to promise me that you will not give these people a place. Please don’t let them hurt you. Don’t take these shots that are meant for me,” He added, caressing her cheek with his knuckles.

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows for a moment, but seemed to smile. “Buck, I would take actual bullets for you,” She said, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Bucky chuckled. “Very unwise. Bullets hurt like hell. And you’d be taking a lot of them,” He bantered back. “But I appreciate the sentiment. I love you sweetheart,” He smiled.

Y/N exhaled heavily, smiling back. “I love you too,” she pressed a kiss to his lips. “Do you wanna come with me?”

He looked at her, confused as to what she meant. “Back onto the carpet? What about the interviews?”

She grinned. “Maybe you can do some staring if they piss me off.” She giggled.

Immediately he seemed excited. “Oh sweetheart, don’t tempt me!”

[laenordeservedbetter]

For Samantha Carpenter x fem reader. (If you're doing requests, I'm not 100% sure if you are or not,please.)

Reader is Amber Freeman's half older sister (Sam Carpenter's age). Amber knows that Stu Macher is her sister's father, which she is jealous of. So after attacking Tara and luring Sam back to Woodsboro, Amber attacks Reader at Ambers and rs house. (Sam and Reader dated before Sam left, and once they've all moved to NYC, they get back together. R is also a little reliant on alcohol and weed after everything that happened.)

Holding On To You

Words: 3.3k (I think)

Relationships: Samantha Carpenter x Fem!Reader, Sibling!Amber Freeman x Fem!Reader, Implied/Referenced Tara Carpenter x Amber Freeman, Chad Meeks-Martin x Tara Carpenter, Mindy Meeks-Martin x Anika Kayoko

I wrote this this fic in bits, so the timeline is kinda jumbled. I only arranged which part should go where when I finished writing and decided to imply Tamber last minute because why not? Also, Amber's dad raised r as his own, which is why r refers to them as her parents.

The ' * * *' means a long period of time has passed.

Warnings: (18+) this is definitely not my best work, poorly written fight scene, angst, violence, cussing, grief, suggestive themes, reader has problems with alcohol. lmk if I missed any! (I don't remember if the core four were drinking alcohol in Sam and Tara's apartment, so I put something else here)

A/N: I didn't intend for half the fic to focus on reader's dynamic with Amber, but I felt like it's important to show how torn she is by how she feels with what happened. Sorry if I made it too angsty and not what you (anon) asked for 😭

not my gif. || masterlist || previous work

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Your phone buzzed at the same time you were about to go up the stairway leading to your room. Determining that whoever is texting you is more important than sleep, you unlock the cellular device to read the message.

(1:49 a.m.)

Amber: Tara was attacked.

Three words. Fifteen letters.

Your body turns stiff as if there was a supernatural force compelling you to stay still. Tara was attacked. The first thought that went to your mind was ‘is she okay?’ but for some reason you can’t explain, your fingers typed in different words.

(1:50 a.m.)

You: Does Sam know?

Is Tara in the hospital?

How is she?

(1:51 a.m.)

Amber: Such dumb questions. What you should be asking yourself is ‘who’s next?’

Your brows furrow and you frown. She shouldn’t be saying that, you thought. Amber was peculiar but if there was one thing you were sure she’s best at, it was being there for Tara - protecting her. The person on the other side of the screen that you’re talking to feels different from the Amber you know. Something is off.

(1:55 a.m.)

You: Don’t say shit like that, Amber. Tara got hurt. This is serious.

(1:55 a.m.)

Amber: Oh, this isn’t Amber.

(1:56 a.m.)

You: Then who are you?

(1:56 a.m.)

Amber: You’ll find out soon enough.

The chances of being given ample interval to question the sender of the text who is definitely not Amber reduces to zero the second a masked figure creeps behind you and slashes your arm. “What the fuck?!” Blood trickles down your skin, the wound deep enough to nearly make you see your bones. You have to look away from your own body or else you might collapse from the mere sight of it.

You’re panting, looking into the mask of your attacker. He tilts his head at you tauntingly. “And here I thought that the daughter of Stu Macher would put up more of a fight.”

You don’t react, but you run for the kitchen, grabbing the first breakable object you can find: the floral vase.

When Ghostface attempts to lunge forward, you aim the vase at his head, but he dodges swiftly, leaving the vase to smash against the newly-painted wall. You grimace. Your parents were gonna kill you the moment they decide to hop on their plane and get home. “They’re going to be so mad at me.” You complain while grabbing a kitchen knife.

This will do.

“What are you planning to do with that knife?” Ghostface wonders mockingly.

You make a face at him, “No more talking.”

And just like that, you got into a knife fight. You manage to stab Ghostface in the abdomen. He rolls over, his hand going over his stomach to assess the damage. Smiling triumphantly, you let your guard down, which proved to be an error of yours as Ghostface recovers enough to dig his knife near your chest. You drop your weapon, feeling your eyes flutter shut. Your attacker slowly removes his mask, shocking you, yet it was like the time you fade out of consciousness was also planned since you pass out way before you can see what he looks like.

* * *

“We’re waiting for you downstairs.”

You stop what you were doing to look up at Tara. She sends you a sympathetic look and you shoot her one back. “I’ll finish up in 5 minutes.” You say, motioning to the clothes that are yet to be packed into your suitcase.

“Okay.” Tara’s attention is drawn to the picture frame on the nightstand. It was of you and Amber when you were children. She was wearing a pirate costume while you wore a witch’s. “Are you bringing that with you?”

“Yes.” You reply, taking the frame in your hands, fingers ghosting over the photograph. “It was one of our happiest memories together. She was such a sweet kid. I’d like to remember her that way instead of…” You trail off, taking a sharp intake of breath. A month has passed since your sister attacked you and murdered people. You’d never know why she did it nor do you want to. Some things are better left unsaid. Tara, however, felt the opposite. She knew Amber differently and you can understand how she feels, to an extent. “You can keep it if you want. I have other photos in this room stored somewhere.”

Even though Tara shakes her head ‘no’, she is appreciative. “No, it’s fine. I have pictures of my own too.”

The two of you bask in the silence. No other words needed to be shared. Tara leaves you alone after that, but the space she formerly occupied isn’t left empty for long when Sam appears by the doorway.

You grin when you see her, “Hi.” It’s the first time in days that you managed to smile authentically. Going through the worst thing imaginable can dim someone’s light and you were in no position to pretend that everything was okay when circumstances proved the opposite. Although it pained you to think about that night, seeing Sam made you feel that you weren’t alone.

“Hey.” She replies. “Ready to go?”

“Most definitely.” You answer with the truth as you zip up your last bag, ready to leave this place behind and start anew.

Sam holds out her hand, “Come on.”

You don’t take one last look back. You’d be lying if you said you would miss this house. Everything direful that happened in Woodsboro began here, so it is fitting that this is also where it should end.

Or at least, that’s what you thought.

* * *

The bottle in your hand weighs lighter than your grief. That’s what you keep telling yourself during these types of moments. It’s a remedy. Ephemeral, maybe, but it helps you forget. That’s the one thing you could ask for.

You nurse your wounds at a bar stool. The time is a bit early for a Saturday for you to be drinking, just how you like it. You take a sip, then another, and another, making you finish your drink earlier than you’d like. “Fucking hell.” A new bottle slides over in front of you before you can ask the bartender for one more drink. Turning your attention to your side, you note a woman staring right at you, a sly smirk on her lips.

Once you give her a nod as a ‘thank you’ for the booze, you go back to the bottle, indicating you want to be left alone. Unfortunately for you, the woman does not take the hint. She moves to the stool next to yours, hoping to shoot her shot.

“Hey.” She says, her bright blue eyes shining in the dim light of the bar. Although you cannot deny that she’s attractive, you’d rather be gazing into a different pair of eyes, preferably brown ones on the face of the only girl you’ve ever loved. “I’m Jolene.”

“Hi, Jolene.” Putting down the bottle, you purse your lips, hoping that this exchange would end soon. You tense when Jolene places a hand on your right shoulder.

Jolene chuckles, unbothered by the signs that you were uneasy, “You’re a little tense.” She pauses, gauging your reaction, “I can help you relax.”

“Look, I appreciate the offer, but, uh. . . I’m kind of waiting for someone, so if you don’t mind. . .” You pull your arm away, pretending to look at the entrance to the bar as if you were meeting one of your friends. Truthfully, it should be a lost cause since you haven’t told anybody that you would be here, including Sam.

“Well, let me keep you company while they arrive.”

You internally groan. “Respectfully, Jolene, and I mean this in the nicest way possible since you seem like a good person, leave me alone.”

“Are you sure?”

“A hundred percent.”

Jolene smiles understandingly, about to get up and turn away, but then her mouth drops open as if she’s seen a movie star, “Wait, you’re one of the survivors of the murders at that one house in Woodsboro! Your sister tried to kill you and your biological father was a killer too, right?! Stu Macher, that’s what his name was.”

Of course. That’s why she approached you. She only pretended not to know who you were until you tried to convince her to piss off. Great. “Bye now.” You throw a fifty dollar bill on the counter, hastily running out of the place as if you were brought back to those nights spent in that house trying so desperately to get away. The feeling of tightness takes place in your chest. You see a stranger pass by with hair that looks exactly like Amber’s and you turn lugubrious. No matter what she did, she was still your sister. You want to hate her for everything she did to you, to Tara, to everyone you thought she cared for. However, missing her triumphs all the other emotions you have. Though that may not be an excuse for her wrongdoings, it makes you mourn what has and what would have been.

You wanted her to go to college. You wanted to be the one on the front row cheering her on as she accepts her diploma. You wanted to be the person she turns to for relationship advice. You would have wanted her there when both you and Sam began getting harassed online just because your fathers were serial killers. Amber would have fought anyone who attempted to cross a line. Sometimes it felt like she was your big sister even though you are technically older.

And then it hits you.

You’d always be stuck in that goddamn stupid, cursed house, persistently wishing that things had been different. That you hadn’t moved there, that your sister never met Richie, that you have the same biological father as Amber. Standing in the middle of the sidewalk, you realized that maybe you never left the place at all. You are in New York (You’re not deluded. You know that much.), but a piece of your heart would eternally be in Stu Macher’s house with Amber at the doorway while the other half is chasing after a love that might never be.

* * *

Sam drops by in your shared room to ask what you want for dinner. On Saturdays when neither of you are working, you and Sam order food and watch a movie that is preferably a romcom or fantasy. The unspoken rule being: watching horror is out of the equation.

She notices your swollen eyes and discards her phone on the table to comfort you. Sam climbs into your bed, arms circling around your waist in order to ground you. “I’m here. It’s okay.”

You don’t speak, fearing that your voice might crack and that it might show that you are as weak as you think you are.

But of course, Sam notices. “I know you don’t want to talk right now, so I’ll just hold onto you. If or when you want to talk, you can squeeze my hand. Is that okay?”

You shake your head in affirmation, locking your fingers with Sam’s, granting yourself the permission to crumble in her arms.

Once your heartbeat slows to a calm rhythm and the heartache subsides to a low wave that stays at your feet, you squeeze her hand three times.

“I’m listening.” Sam says, sensing your hesitance. Understanding where your diffidence comes from (she sees it in herself too), she adds, “I won’t judge you. I’m here to listen and if you want advice, I’ll try to give one. If you don’t want me to say anything, that’s fine too. Whatever works best for you.”

She is giving you the space to feel. Not a lot of people can say that and still stay after you’ve poured your heart out. Sam is different from most people because she cares. You are each other’s anchor. That’s why it doesn't take much convincing for you speak of your feelings bit by bit without worrying about falling into a rabbit hole. Knowing that Sam is there with you, listening, holding your hand, is more than enough motivation to keep going.

“. . . Sam, is it wrong? To miss Amber? The whole world tells me what she is. A murderer. But I- I saw it in her eyes that night at the party. Hesitation. Remorse. She told me that she was jealous that I got to be the one whose father was a serial killer but when she pointed the gun at my head, I saw something else flicker in her eyes. I don’t know. It’s probably just my brain making things up to make me feel better. Maybe I should just accept that my sister was a killer and move on. I shouldn’t even be feeling like this when I know she murdered people in cold blood — people I used to know. Am I crazy?” Once you started talking, you couldn’t stop. It was like you’ve been bottling this up to release it at the right moment. The memories of that night resurfaced in the forefront of your mind, acknowledging them for the first time. By now, you were laying on your back while Sam had an arm wrapped around your shoulder and the other still on your waist. For less than a minute, you were scared that she would push you away in a literal sense.

She didn’t.

“It’s not wrong, Y/n. She was your sister, of course you have the right to miss her. Now, I still don’t understand her motive and I won’t try to because she hurt Tara and you. But you knew her better than me or the people calling her names. You knew the kid that she was. You know what’s real. You are allowed to have your own opinion of Amber even if it isn’t what others want you to think. You’re not crazy for feeling these things. I’d be scared if you didn’t feel anything at all. It’s normal. You’re human. Don’t be too hard on yourself because of something you can’t control.” Sam says, soft but stern.

You take this opportunity to gaze into her eyes, seeing reverence, sympathy, and devotion all in one. She took the parts of yourself that you hated and treated them as if they were something sacred. When you have a person like that in your life - one who helps you accept your flaws instead of turning them away -, you start to see flowers bloom in the pieces you considered damaged. She loved the things about you that you execrated.

Before Sam, you gave love a definition: it is a thing that enfeebles you - yet that’s not all that there is to it. Love can be a chain, it can be suffocating, and there is no doubt that it can shatter you until the only thing you have left is a piece of a broken mirror to prove that it existed; but it can also be a tune (like the song you sung as a kid that you never paid much thought to), a soft bed, a dance, or a simple look a person gives that sends your heart fluttering no matter how many times you have been on the receiving end of it.

“Sam?” You call out, realizing that you’ve spent a while not responding.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you for listening,” You say quietly. “and for not becoming a stranger.”

She smiles gently.

Your heart flutters.

* * *

Tara lets out a deep breath. She’s laying down with a novel in her hand that became abandoned three minutes ago, her attention now focused on glaring at you and Sam from her position on the couch. “Just get back together already. I’m so tired of watching you two tiptoe around each other with your unresolved feelings!” She yells, roughly flipping a page of the book in order to prove her annoyance. Sam, who was currently on dish duty, dropped a plate upon hearing Tara’s comment. (It didn’t break, fortunately.)

“Are you talking about the book or…?” Of course, Chad would be the one to make the situation far more awkward than it needs to be. You don’t hate the kid, but he does get oblivious at times, which you normally wouldn’t mind if it doesn’t affect you. Mindy punches him in the shoulder. His mouth gapes. He looks at you, then at Sam. “Ohhhh.”

“Idiot.” Mindy mumbles.

“I agree with Tara though.” Anika comments, pointing her apple drink at Tara. (You and Sam don’t allow the kids to drink at the apartment, so the only beverages available are apple and orange juice boxes.)

“Me too, babe.” Mindy beams proudly as if Anika gave the answer to an unsolvable mathematical equation and gives her girlfriend a peck on the lips.

Chad makes gagging noises, averting his eyes away from the couple.

You see the scene unfold in front of you with a smile before you turn away to take the popcorn out of the microwave. “I think we’re driving Tara crazy with the suspense.” You joke, transferring the popcorn to a bowl and placing another bag inside the microwave. Sam shoots you a questioning glance, referring to the amount of popcorn bags that were already cooked. “I was thinking that each couple would have a bag or bowl each. Mindy and Anika, Chad and Tara. I wasn’t sure if you wanted to share with me, which is why I put another-”

Sam takes out the uncooked popcorn from the microwave, interrupting what would have been your rambling, “Of course I’d share with you. You’re my girlfriend.”

You look away, unable to keep a smile off your face. “I will never get tired of hearing that.” As you busy yourself with placing the popcorn on three separate bowls, Sam observes the group on the living room.

“I think we should tell them.”

“Huh?”

“About us. It’s time, don’t you think?”

“Yeah.” You take Sam’s hands in your own, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “I’m ready.” You look at her lovingly. “How should we do it?”

Sam sports a mischievous smirk, “I know just the right way.” She ‘accidentally’ drops another plate (which, amazingly, didn’t break as well), drawing the attention of Tara, Chad, Mindy, and Anika. She gives you the go signal and you kiss her, bringing your bodies closer.

“TARA, SOMETHING’S HAPPENING IN THE KITCHEN!”

“WHAT ARE YOU- OH MY GOD!” Tara exclaims.

“CHAD, GIVE ME THE CAMERA!” Anika flails her arms chaotically for Chad’s phone, instantly snapping pictures of you and Sam the moment the device is handed to her.

Chad grins, giving you a thumbs up.

When you pull away from Sam for air, Tara runs up to you with questions at the ready. Sam did most of the talking. You added a few things here and there, looking back at how far you’ve come. The grief never went away. It’s still lingering. Except this time, you don’t feel the panic. You focus on the memories - the good and the bad. Those things are the reason why you’re where you're at right now. Although you’d have liked some of it to turn out differently, you can’t change the past, hence why you don’t shy away from what happened as much as you used to. You hold on to the memories the way you’d want to hold on to the love of your life.

“You okay?” Sam asks, rubbing a comforting hand on your shoulder.

You realize that you’ve been crying. “Yeah, they’re happy tears. It’s just. . .” You breathe out, feeling the weight of hopelessness on your shoulders disappear.

It felt like finally coming home after a long journey.

[izfrogzy]

Soft and Innocent Part II 18+ Aemond x Sister Reader(OC.)

Warnings: 18+ content eventually, this part is a bit angsty and a lot of pinning and longing, a bit sexism and such as what is expected of a woman and girl of the time period and world like Westeros and there's mentions of foot fetish (Due to Larys mention.)

A/N: .Mostly soft fluffy and angst at this part, for the most part a bit Angsty and such lots of hugging and seeking comfort from the Broody Brother. New to writing these sort of things for readers to read I am down for good criticism I try my best and never intend to offend or upset anyone with my writing with that being said enjoy...sorry for any bad grammar and punctuation :) I do apologize for any inaccuracies for certain characters just think of it as AUs scenarios.

Aemond was returning from the training yard. Sweat and dirt covered his clothing. His hair was sticking to his face with sweat and sweat also glistened off his skin. The only thing he wanted to do was have a bath and rest. He let out a tired huff. But as he walked past his sister's room. He heard crying which seemed to peak his curiosity. He raised his head and began to walk towards her room which his walking turned into a sprint.

Seanna glared as Alicent, Their mother, sighed trying to appease upset Seanna. “It is your duty Seanna to marry." Alicent said and Seanna sobbed and threw things at her mother. “But it had to be him of all people!” She cried out and sobbed.

Seanna inhales and exhales glaring at Alicent, though the queen, She was more then willing to defy her mother, Aemond entered the room upon the middle of this argument between his mother and little sister.

“I don’t want to marry him, he's old and he walks funny and he’s he’s.” Sobbed Seanna 

His gaze went to his sister as he tilted his head ever so slightly to the side. His expression went from cold and hard to a slightly concerned and sympathetic one as he saw her in tears. He knew how she felt. Having to be married off to someone who she does not like. It wasn't fair to her. She didn't deserve that. Aemond's expression darkened slightly as he turned his head back to his mother. Who seemed so uncaring and cold to her own daughter.

“Larys Strong is the Lord of Harrenhal and he has acquired a mass fortune after his….” Alicent tries to make the situation sound better but Seanna speaks up. “You think I care about any of that Mother?!” She sobbed and sat up scowling at Her mother, Queen Alicent.

Aemond's hand tightly clenched into a fist at his side when he heard the name of the man who he sister was betrothed to. His whole body tensed....a wave of anger, sympathy and protectiveness filled his entire being. Larys Strong was not a good man. He was a perverted old man who only cared about wealth and power. Not love or family. Which made Aemond's expression darkened even more and his jaw clenched at the thought of the pervert being near his little sister.

Seanna says more to her mother trying to reason with her, “Plus I heard he has a foot thing mother would you really subject me to such a man and how he acquired his inheritance is no secret either…Hells I'd rather marry some Greyjoy or Bolton then the likes of that decrepit man.” Seanna said frustratedly from the top of bed clearly very worked up by the whole situation.

The thought of her being married off to a Greyjoy or a Bolton did not ease Aemond's darkening anger. It still would not be a happy ending. But it was slightly better than Larys Strong. Aemond's jaw clenched again at the word foot. Knowing what his little sister meant by that....it made his stomach do twists and turns in anger that his sister had to be tied to such a man. He was a pervert and a murderer.

Alicent sighs. “It has already been arranged." She said and Seanna started sobbing. “No! I won’t marry that man, Mother! I won’t!” Seanna wailed and threw her last pillow at her mother.

Aemond's hands slowly curled into a tight fist as more anger filled his being. The way his so-called loving mother was making his sister cry and treating her like she was some commodity to trade. He gritted his teeth and then grumbled out. “Isn’t there a better match mother ...or can't such a match be held off for a while? mother?” Aemond's tone hardened at his mother which made her turn her head to look at him..

“Aemond, you know we all must do our duty and it is about time your little sister did her part for this family….as you know alliances have to be made in case…” Alicent said to him and she looked at Seanna. “You will grow accustomed to Lord Strong ... .children become the greatest comfort.” She said trying to assure Seanna who shook her head and sobbed. “Is that all I am mother?” Seanna said and hopped off the bed and stormed up to Alicent. “Like my Beloved sister Helaena I too must be one of your broodmares to offer up to the highest bidder?” She said angrily in tears and Alicent's eyes widened and grabbed her daughter. “Enough of your childish tantrum Seanna! You will marry Lord Strong and that is final!” She snapped and Seanna sobs and yanks herself away pushing Alicent out of her way and storms past Aemond without a second glance, as she runs out of her bedchambers in tears and Alicent sighs and looks at Aemond. “Duty always requires sacrifice Aemond even you know that.” She said in a serious tone to her beloved son and she sighed “It’s about time Seanna learns as well.” Alicent said a bit coldly trying to be stoic in this decision.

Aemond's jaw tensed as he began gritting his teeth once more. The anger burned furiously in his body as he listened to his mother speak in such a cold and uncaring manner. He watched as his sister tried to argue and cry only to be treated like a child by their mother. He saw the push and he watched her run out of the room crying. He let out a slow and harsh breath through his nose to stop himself from screaming at his mother's seemingly cruel decision.

“I understand the demands of duty, Mother.” Aemond said with gritted teeth as he crossed his arms. His gaze was hard and cold as he stared at his mother. “However you don't seem to understand the concept of love and care.” Aemond said in an accusing tone as he continued to look at his cold hearted mother. “My sister is still a young lady who has her whole life ahead of her. And you treat her like a pig to be sent to slaughter.” Aemond said as his jaw tightened more.

“Aemond…..Larys Strong is lord of the Strongest fortress in the Seven Kingdoms ... ..as you know. plans are being made in case your father dies and we must solidify our household…..in case.” She said approaching him. “I don’t like it anymore than you do but Marrying her off is for the greater good….to strengthen the crown and house Targaryen.” Alicent said in a lowered tone of voice.

“I know all of that.” Aemond said, slightly agitated as he let out a slow breath through his nose. “But why him?” He asked in a hard and cold tone. “Why must you marry her off to such a creature as that. Why can she not marry someone else? Someone who would love and care for her. Why, someone like him?” He questioned as his jaw clenched and he began gritting his teeth again.

“You Mean Someone like you?” Alicent asked outright as if she knew what he tried so hard to keep hidden. “Aegon and Helaena are already wedded we must form alliances not just keep our bloodline to ourselves Aemond….I see how you feel obligated to her….how you wish to keep her safe….I am no fool at what I see…..But….Duty comes first Aemond.” Alicent said calmly and she placed her hand on his shoulder as if to give him assurance.

Aemond's jaw clenched further and his breathing became much more labored as he stared at his mother. How was she so good at reading him? He was always good at hiding his emotions. But with her it was different. She always managed to figure him out. Aemond stayed quiet...he almost felt as if he had been exposed of his secret feelings.

“If I had it my way it would have been you and her who were married instead of Aegon and Helaena but it was not Aemond.” Alicent said to her son.

Aemond's eyes widened slightly at the sentence his mother had spoken. So she has figured his secret out long before he even realized it himself. He would have been better fit to marry his sister. 

“That would not have pleased father right?” Aemond asked as he looked away from his mother. His expression became cold and stoic

“Your father could care less.” She admitted, looking away. “But for the realm arranging proper and good alliances and marriages for his remaining children is ideal.”

Aemond's face remained cold and stoic but inside he was feeling a mix of different emotions. He understood the concept of duty and loyalty, and why they had to arrange marriages...but the thought of his sister being sent off to such a vile person had his blood boiling. “And this is the best you came up with.” Aemond hissed out as he turned to look at her again. “Larys Strong. That creature…” He said bitterly to his mother, the Queen.

Alicent sighs and averted her eyes and nodded, “He asked for her and I owe him…our family owes him for his loyalty.” She admitted.

Aemond let out a huff and looked away again. He clenched his jaw yet again as the anger filled his body. She not only arranged his sister's marriage to a disgusting man but because the crown owed him. It was almost as if they didn't care about her being sent off to a perverted man who had a foot fetish. In Aemond's mind....it made her seem like she didn't care at all for her daughter.

Alicent approaches Aemond as she knew he was filled with anger at this decision, and she rubbed his shoulder and sighs before speaking, “Larys promised to be kind and gentle with her, that is all I can hope for your sister's future.” Alicent said to Aemond but her son gave her an agitated look. 

Aemond's hands slowly curled into tight fists as he listened. He didn't believe that at all. “And you believe such an empty promise from a lecherous man like him?” Aemond asked as he looked at his mother in anger and disbelief.

Alicent showed some hesitation to answer when he asked and she sighed and swallowed her motherly instincts and spoke “We must for the greater good Aemond.” She said simply looking at her son.

“The greater good?” Aemond's expression was full of anger as he looked at her. What greater good was there for marrying off his sweet sister to such a perverted man. “Why not another Lord? A good man who can give her a happy life. Surely that would be better for the realm than selling her like a pig to be slaughtered?” He asked and Alicent grabbed his arms so he would look at her “It has been final Aemond…..if I was to withdrawal there would be drastic consequences for our family.” Alicent said, trying to convince her son to accept the decisions made.

Aemond's hands clenched even more. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath to compose himself before speaking again. “If you will not change the betrothal. I will.” Aemond said his voice was hardened and cold. As he walked past his mother and opened the door to step out to where he knew his sister had run off to. Leaving his mother to stew in the room behind him.

Aemond knew exactly where to find his sister. He walked quickly down to the Godswoods. He began to hear sobbing. He followed the sobbing and finally stopped as he found his sister sitting on the ground sobbing. Aemond slowly walked up to her and gently placed a hand on her shoulder. Hoping to give her some comfort. “Seanna....sister.” Aemond said softly as knelt down and looked at her. “Shhh.”

Seanna looked at him and sniffled. “Oh Aemond I don’t want to do it.” She cried.

Aemond gently wrapped her in his strong arms and gave her a soft warm embrace. “Shhh.....shh...I know sister. I know…” His heart shattered as he saw how distraught and upset she was. He wanted to see her happy and cheerful. Not sobbing on the ground in tears.

“Why does it have to be him?” She sobbed. “How could mother do this to me?” She asked emotionally. 

Aemond continued to hold her in the embrace as he gently patted her back in a soothing manner. Trying not to think about how he would have treated her if they were married nor if he was to have her in his arms. He gently moved one of his arms to the back of her head and gently cradled her.

“I don't know...but....I promise to you. Once the time is right I won't let you be married to such a horrid man. No matter the consequences.” Aemond said his voice was soft yet filled with so much promise and conviction.

Seanna whimpers and clings to him. “I won’t marry him, I don't care what mother says or does to me.” she sobbed nuzzling into his clothed body.

Aemond holds her close as she clings to him. He rested his chin slightly atop her soft hair. He felt a sense of protective affection and love for his sister. He wanted her to be happy. He wanted to see her smile. And he knew there was no way in the seven hells that he would allow her to be married to such a horrible man. “No you won't. I promise you that.” He said as Aemond nuzzled his face into her hair.

Seanna sniffled and turned her face up and looked up at him with her pouty face and tear filled eyes. “You really promise?” She asked gently, her voice trembling.

He looked down at her. Seeing her tear filled eyes and pouty face made him want to kiss her...but no. That was not, be allowed this time. He gently placed a hand on her cheek and softly held it. A small yet warm smile spread across his face as he looked at her. “I promise my little sister. With my whole heart. I will not allow that creature to take you. No matter what.” He said though it sounded more like a vow and oath to her which made her smile slightly though still feeling upset.

 Seanna looked at him with her large eyes and rosy cheeks she sniffled. “Really?” she asked, tearing up again.

Aemond gazed back into her large eyes. He felt an overwhelming sense of love and adoration for her as he gently held her small face tenderly in his hand. He gently rubbed her chubby tear stained pink cheek. “Really. I promise. There is no need to cry or be scared. I will be by your side and I will protect you. You are my little sister. It is my duty to do so.”

She nodded. “I love you Lēkia.” She said Lēkia meaning older brother in Old Valyrian in a soft light innocent voice looking at him with her violet doe eyes.

And I love you, sweet sister. Aemond replied, still looking at those wide eyes of hers which he loved looking at so much. He gently cradled her face in his hand and then gently leaned in and placed a gentle, yet loving kiss on her forehead. The love he had for her was far more than what a brother should feel for his sister.

She clung to him and sighed totally content with her Lēkia.

A/N: Part III is a bit more saucy and will be short but.....the small series will get steamy I promise Also named the OCSister I will do Reader or Y/N eventually but y'all can still imagine yourselves in OCs shoes obviously.

[juuuulez]

📰 | part twelve: capulet.

info: Carl Grimes x Saviour!Reader, no pronouns used for reader, slow burn, teenagers in love, cute Judith moments, dialogue heavy chapter, kinda just pure fluff, reader is an artist.

summary: You, Carl and Judith share a picnic away from all the troubles of war. Alternatively: the calm before the storm.

okay this was so so so so so cute!!! a very dialogue heavy chapter, but juicy so hopefully you all enjoy!!

next chapter will be…a LOT (pretty angsty) because guys it is our LAST CHAPTER!!! then there will be an epilogue to package everything up nicely

don’t worry, there will be waaayyy more xSaviour!Reader one shots to come because it’s my favourite trope, and i can work through tones of cute requests to keep us all with our required dose of carl grimes ;P

-> masterlist <-

You watched as Judith scribbled with her crayons, drawing nonsensical shapes and patterns onto her page. She seemed at peace with your presence, which made you a little bitter, knowing nobody else from Alexandria could ever see you in this light. After catching your staring, a chubby hand reached out, offering you a crayon.

“What’re we drawing?” You asked, leaning down to hover next to Judith. She didn’t answer, giving you that shy little smile, but nonetheless pushed a piece of paper towards you.

“It’s easier to find crayons than pens now,” Carl remarks, seated next to you on the blanket, “Do you guys have pens? At the Sanctuary, I mean.”

“Yeah. We’ve got pens.” You entertain the small talk, drawing a tree onto the page in waxy blue crayon. It starts out as a vague shape, though you slowly give it more and more detail, hatching in shading and even patches of grass at its base.

The silence resumes, though you’re content with that. Carl is, too. He’s just happy to have your attention, in a scenario without Alexandria or the Saviours or a war.

Despite this, you find yourself talking again, unable to keep these thoughts bottled up. Sometime, when you’re nervous, you run your mouth. Maybe Carl is making you nervous.

“Judith is lucky to have you.” You tell him, still colouring on the page. The admission catches Carl’s attention, and though he isn’t shocked with its contents, he’s a little surprised by the blatant display of.. vulnerability? He isn’t used to you being so personal.

“I know,” He agrees, “My dad says that family is the most important thing nowadays. He’s right.”

The idea leaves you thinking for a moment, and Carl can practically see the gears turning in your head. He liked digging deeper, seeing what made you tick, what was going on underneath those walls.

“Yeah,” You end up nodding, “I think I agree.”

“Y’know, that’s why we won’t punish you. When this war ends.”

It garners your attention, finally looking up from the paper. Carl is sitting next to you, whilst you’re lying on the blanket with Judith. He looks serious, but maybe a little solemn, not intending to steer the conversation down this dark path, yet viewing it necessary to discuss. He wants to be on the same page.

“My dad won’t kill Negan,” Carl continues, sounding quite sure of himself. “He thinks he will, but he won’t. I’ll convince him. I know I can.”

You look back down at the page, but don’t continue colouring. It’s a weird idea, that Rick would spare Negan. You couldn’t see how that would happen. But knowing Carl wanted to advocate for peace was nice. Comforting.

“Negan’s gonna kill Rick.” You eventually tell him, though it doesn’t hold the same certainty. It’s a bitter reality, loosing faith in your own people, yet with each day, this war is seeming more difficult to win.

Yet you know one thing. If given the chance, Negan would kill Rick. You knew he would. Carl knew it, too.

“That’s why you guys can’t win.” He tells you, not sounding too proud of the fact. Months ago, and he would’ve happily rubbed this in your face. But now, it made him feel a little nauseous.

You let the silence sit for a moment, and Carl worries he’s upset you. He hasn’t, but the whole situation is upsetting. Not that it’s his fault, which you keep reminding yourself.

So, you speak quietly, trying to be nice. “Can we not talk about this?” You suggest, throwing another glance up at Carl.

He takes pity on you, understanding that this was supposed to be a break from everything, though he feels a little better knowing the idea doesn’t make you outright hostile.

Carl lies down on the blanket, next to you, on his back whilst you lay on your stomach. He tilts his head towards you and Judith, brown hair pooling on the blanket and falling over his shoulders, bangs sweeping over his eyepatch.

You get an idea, shifting a little, focusing a tad harder on the drawing. One arm holds the crayon, and your other creates a barrier between Carl and the paper. Though, he doesn’t seem very focused, instead watching you.

“Does your head hurt?” He asks, eyes unconsciously drawn to the bandage wrapped around your head. It was almost silly, the way you matched, but Carl struggled to find any joy in that fact.

“Kinda. Just a headache,” You tell him, still drawing. At one point, Judith reaches out, trading you a yellow crayon in exchange for the blue one. “Did you find the bastard who shot me?”

Carl scoffs, a smile spreading onto his face. “Yeah. Someone from the Kingdom. Nobody you’ve gotta worry about, though.”

You roll your eyes, unbeknownst to how Carl inspects every inch of your face. “Who names their community the ‘Kingdom’? Pretentious assholes.”

“Like the ‘Sanctuary’ is any better.” He points out, which forces a smile onto your face, knowing that he has a point. It is a little silly.

Judith reaches out again, handing you a red crayon. You take it, giving her the yellow one you’d been working with, to which she happily continues scribbling on her side of the paper.

“Do you ever wish that things were normal?” Carl asks, once again prompting conversation. “Like.. would we have been friends, otherwise?”

“We aren’t even friends now,” You point out, sparing him a glance and smiling at his curious expression. So cute. “But no.. I don’t mind things how they are. I didn’t like my normal very much.”

This causes Carl to think, pondering on that statement. A light breeze brushes past, tussling his hair slightly, though he remains focused on you, looking so peaceful while you draw.

“Your normal… with Negan?” He begins, hoping that you would get the hint and fill him in. All this time, and yet he knows nothing about you.

You take the hint, giving a small shrug. “No. With my father.”

Carl tries to read your expression, to gauge how deep this wound is, but he struggles. “You didn’t get along very well?” He asks, voice soft and free of judgment.

It isn’t difficult to read your behaviour these past months. You’re snappy, easily agitated, and weirdly flighty yet strong and resilient at the same time. In many ways, your attachment to Negan is unnatural, though Carl presumed there to be a driving factor behind it all.

“No,” You confirm, “He was a heartless bastard.”

Carl nods, still lying on his back. The silence doesn’t last for long, as he still has more questions. “Did you have any other family?”

His curiosity didn’t piss you off, like it usually would. Maybe it’s because your guard was down, or maybe you felt you owed it to Carl, to open up with him a little.

“I had a sister. Younger,” You begin, speaking whilst you draw, “But she died at eight weeks old. My mother died with her, in childbirth. She was nice.”

There are a few beats where nobody talks. Even Judith has stopped playfully mumbling, though she pays no mind to your conversation. Your gaze flickers up to Carl, finding that he’s still watching you, seeming to be in thought. It’s like he sees something more: something beneath your surface, something you can’t even touch.

Or maybe he just relates. It’s surprising how much Carl understands you, to the point where he’s a little unsettled by it.

“Don’t ask depressing questions if you don’t want the answer.” You finally chime, trying to clear the air of this strange tension.

“No, it’s not that. I get it.” Carl concludes, his voice remaining in that soft tone, one that makes the hairs on your neck stand up. He doesn’t want you to feel bad.

You nod, reassuring him. “I know you do.”

Having such a personal conversation is strangely liberating. It makes you feel good, better than you usually do, better than anybody has had the ability to make you feel. For once, there’s a sense of peace, as you know Carl understands you.

The silence returns, but it’s pleasant this time. Trees in the distance rustle slightly in the wind, an atmosphere void of groaning corpses or yelling and fighting. You’ve never experienced that.

After a few more etches with the crayon, the drawing is complete. You spin around the piece of paper, sliding it to Carl with a smile. “For you.”

Carl sits up on his elbows, taking the paper to inspect it. It’s a sketchy crayon drawing of… well, him. Lying there, on the blanket. It’s surprisingly realistic, shapes accurately blocked out in a combination of yellow, blue, and red crayon. The very edge of his hat had been coloured in, messy pink scribbled roughly inside the lines by Judith

“When did you do this?” He asks, not having noticed you creating this masterpiece throughout the duration of the conversation.

You stifle a laugh. “Just then. I was gonna let Judith keep colouring it in.”

Carl nods, still fixated on the drawing. Nobody has ever drawn him before. “Can I.. keep this one?”

“Yeah, of course. I’ll make Judith something else to colour.” You agree, already pulling out another piece of paper to sketch something a little simpler. Though you viewed that drawing of Carl a breeze, he was amazed by how you’d managed it in such a short amount of time.

“I didn’t know you could draw.” He says, finally taking his eyes off the paper, to inspect your newest creation. This time he’s set on paying attention, wanting to watch how it comes together.

That, and he thinks it’s very sweet that you were drawing with the intention of letting Judith colour. A lot of artists would probably be protective of their work, but yours served the sole purpose of making others happy.

You decide to draw the tree line, using an unnatural colour like orange to outline the landscape, in hopes that Judith would colour it green. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.” You tell him, a strangely cagey answer, but Carl isn’t put off.

“I do want to know you.” He urges, and the conviction in his tone causes you to glance up at him, before back down at the page.

“You will. Maybe when this is all over.” You land on responding, an answer Carl can’t be unhappy with, as it fills him with the semblance of hope that you’re willing to open up to him. That you see a future where you get along.

He sets the artwork down, laying back on the blanket. “So… you agree? That all this will end?” He tests the waters with another question about the war.

“Don’t push your luck.” You immediately shut him down, a playful grin on your face.

Carl doesn’t mind, not when he’s already picked your brain so far. To him, you’re like a stray cat, any further and you’d start hissing and run away. He’d like to maintain this peace for a little longer.

So, Carl laid there whilst you drew an illustration for Judith. Eventually, the toddler gleamed with joy when you handed it over, eagerly scribbling in the lines with her colours. It was messy and unorganised, but brought you happiness to see that she was so immersed.

The two of you soaked in the sunshine, enjoying the quiet surrounding the clearing and absence of responsibility. Carl had somehow managed to coax you closer, to lay next to him, his hand guiding your head to his shoulder. It felt good, and you weren’t used to letting yourself feel good.

He ran his hand through your hair, careful not to disrupt the bandaged wound, finding it surprisingly soft. In a way, a lot of you was soft, and sweet. It was just buried underneath this rubble of anger and aggression, but Carl knew he could wiggle it out.

When this whole war ended, he hoped you’d be happier.

Regardless, the picnic was a nice getaway, though you tried not to seem too bothered when the sun had begun to set, and you knew you’d return to the Hilltop. It wasn’t your home. It was just some place where they held you captive.

“You’ll actually come and visit me, right?” You end up asking Carl as the pair of you pack up, you holding Judith while Carl stuffs the blanket into his bag.

He nods, “I will. I’ll come by your room every day until Negan takes this deal. Promise.”

That satisfies you, for now. At least you’d have some company, though the idea of being a hostage any longer was slightly sickening. For now, you’d put it out of your mind.

Carl leads you back up the hill out of the clearing, finding the car that he’d hidden away. You throw the bag onto the car’s floor, and buckle Judith into the back seat while he gets it started.

However, the bags zip wasn’t done up, fabric splaying open slightly to reveal that Carl had accidentally left the gun inside. It’s shameful that your first thought is to steal it: make an escape right now, leave for the Sanctuary and screw up this entire plan.

You lean down, palming the metal object. It would be a pretty large hike up there, but worthwhile if it gave the Saviours any power. Carl wouldn’t be able to stop you, as long as you had his gun.

Biting your lip, you pocketed it for the time being, coming to sit in the passenger side.

“When we get back, I’ll go ask Michonne how the deal is going. She’ll probably end up telling me,” Carl suggests, “You’ll feel a little better knowing what’s going on.”

The suggestion catches you off guard, watching Carl with a slightly surprised expression as it sinks in. That he’s willing to give you information simply to provide peace of mind. It’s a stupid idea, really, betraying the trust of Michonne and Rick and everyone else… but it’s sweet.

“You left this in the back.” You end up telling Carl, offering him the handgun. The words spill out before you can hold them back.

His brows furrow in concern, and mild irritation at his own forgetfulness, accepting the gun and hooking it back into his belt. “Shit. Thanks, wouldn’t want Judith grabbing it.”

The engine starts in a low rumble, filling the silence as you begin to drive back. Guilt wells in your stomach for even thinking about turning on Carl, and for the better part of the drive, you settle for watching the boy as opposed to the scenery.

“You alright?” He eventually asks, sparing you a glance before looking back to the empty expanse of road.

“Mhm,” You hum, “Just… grateful that you did all this..”

The admission causes Carl to grin, feeling an unfamiliar swell of pride, your thankful attitude boosting his ego. Even without words, the look he gives you makes you scoff, rolling your eyes and looking out the window.

A smile still grows on your face, knowing that he’s earned this victory. You reach out towards the dash, taking Carl’s hand and just holding it while he drives, allowing him to revel in his prize for a little longer.

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