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brain-palace · 1 month

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But Put Together, the Cracks We’ll Close In

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Setting: Early Alexandria

Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore; mentions of past child abuse; mentions of suggested abortion; blood and injury

Summary: Fresh into Alexandria, Daryl meets his match in a two year little girl and slowly loses his heart to her mother. You.

A/N: Based on the request/headcanon from @louifaith Just a couple of things. The child is described as in hair and eye color. Nothing is mentioned of reader so these traits could come from her father. There is also the mention of an “Eskimo kiss.” I grew up using that term but I’m not sure if it is offensive or PC nowadays. please feel free to send me a message if I need to change it. It is not my intention to be offensive to anyone! Also, sorry if anyone likes Spencer. He's always my go to asshole.

©celtic-crossbow 2024. I do not allow for my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or placed on any other platform without my consent.

“S’that?”

Daryl felt the opossum sway in his grip, looking down with a scowl firmly plastered at the bright eyes returning his gaze, brimming with curiosity. She was a toddler, maybe two years old? Christ, someone had a toddler in this mess. “Dinner.” He grunted, pulling the dead animal out of her reach. He found out quickly that the curious little creature would not be deterred so easily. Standing on her tip-toes, she made a grab for the marsupial. “Knock it off.” He huffed and took a step back, bumping into Carol.

“Daryl, she’s a child. Don’t be such a grump.”

“Ain’t you got a mama—family to get back to?” He snapped, ignoring his best friend. The little girl’s eyes brightened.

“Mama! Mama!” She clapped. Daryl rolled his eyes at her enthusiasm.

“Yeah, go get ‘er.” There was an intense sigh of relief when the little human went running (waddling?) out of sight. “They got kids here.”

“Yes, Daryl. That’s what that was.” Carol nudged him playfully. “The people seem to think they’re safe here. It gives me the creeps.” He nodded but didn’t comment. “They obviously don’t know what’s going on out there, not like we do. I think we need to be cautious here. Find a way to fit in but keep our guard up, you know?”

Daryl snorted. “Yeah, good luck with that. Ain’t got no intention of tryin’ to fit in with these folks. Livin’ in a fuckin’ fairytale here. Ain’t gonna last.”

“You’re such a ray of sunshine.” Sasha clapped him on the shoulder as she passed, earning yet another grunt.

“Mama, here!”

Oh dear god, no. “S’back.” The hunter stated flatly.

“Oh, and she brought a friend.” Sure enough, the little girl was dragging you along, tugging incessantly at your hand as if the child had found the world’s most priceless treasure. “You did tell her to ‘go get her.’”

“Nadia, slow down!”

And slow down, she did. Right in front of a scowl-wearing redneck with a bleeding opossum in his grasp.

“Mama, dinner! Dorl dinner.”

Dorl?!? Daryl looked helplessly over to where Carl was carrying Judith, the little light of his life. Would this be what she was like as she grew up? She already knew him, loved him despite how broken and hopeless he was. She would laugh at him if he was ranting about something and hold out those chubby little hands and he was done for, whatever had irritated him was forgotten.

But this child? This wasn’t his lil’ asskicker.

Daryl liked kids but he liked them from a distance. He had no business being around them, save for Carl and Judith. I wish I could have known Sophia. He wouldn’t bother getting to know anyone in this place. It’d burn like every other home they had anyway.

“Dorl, huh?” You smiled.

“Daryl.” He replied flatly, his lip curling.

“I’m Y/N. I assume Aaron found your group?”

He didn’t answer, too occupied with trying to continuously move away from the small child clumsily reaching for his knife sheath. “Stop that.” He barked, expecting the kid to balk. She did quite the opposite and wrapped her tiny arms around his leg, just below his knee. What the fuck was he supposed to do now? Shake her off? Of course not. She might get hurt. While he really didn’t want to be touched, he couldn’t help but feel like it was somehow his job to make sure this kid wasn’t hurt. “Can ya—would ya—?” Shoulders slumped, he didn’t even gesture. You know what he was asking.

Chuckling, you reached down and gently pried the little girl loose. “Nadia, you’re supposed to ask before hugs, remember?”

“Hug Dorl.” The dark-headed child pouted.

That was his cue to step away, as quickly as possible, without running. He absolutely did not run.

When you looked up, he was already gone, lost in the middle of his group as they headed in to surrender weapons and be interviewed by Deanna.

Daryl sat on the now red-stained porch, prepping his kill for cooking later. Carol had scolded him and made him promise to use the backyard going forward, but he doubted they would be there long enough for him to need the area. It was just the way the world was. Nice places like this could never last.

“Dorl dinner!”

Jesus take the wheel. “Ya need a bell.” He grunted, looking around for you. “An’ apparently a leash.” Maybe if he ignored her, she would go find you. But what if she wandered off alone and somehow made it out of the gates? Shit. “Sit down, gremlin.”

She giggled and patted her chunky hands against her chest. “Nada.”

Daryl stopped moving and stared for a moment. Wasn’t that Spanish? Maybe? Wait. You had called her Nadia. Maybe that’s what she was trying to say. “Nadia?” Blue eyes squinted in wait.

Nadia bounced and nodded and then pointed at him. “Dorl! Dorl, Nada!”

He released his knife and leaned his elbow against his knee, the heel of his hand pressing into his forehead. “Dare-ul.” He tried.

“Dooorl.”

“Oh, for fucksake.” The archer gave up, picking up his knife and continuing with his task. Nadia didn’t even seem to notice what he was doing but leaned in closely with the most serious look he’d ever seen. He needed to lean back once she made it much too far into his personal space.

“Fucksy.” She said, maintaining eye contact as if she were challenging him.

“No! Don’t say that. Can’t be teachin’ ya sh—stuff like that!” He panicked, opossum forgotten. Daryl threw back his head with a groan. “Can’tcha please just go to your mama?”

Nadia’s little face lit up and off she went with a chorus of mama mama mama. Watching her go, Daryl wondered where the little one’s father was, but soon banished the thought. It was none of his business. What was his business was to make sure the annoying curtain-climber made it home safely. Abandoning his dinner—no time to cover it if he was going to catch up—he walked briskly until he caught sight of her. Little legs can fuckin’ move. We’re fucked when Jude learns to walk.

He stayed close, but far back enough to not catch her attention. She seemed to know exactly where she was going. Rounding the curb to the end of the street, he caught sight of the small house. Quaint compared to the other homes. The front door was open but he dared not go closer. Boots firmly planted on the sidewalk, he observed the struggle of a tiny human tackling front porch steps. Nadia was determined though. Had he chosen to help, he was certain she would give him that serious look again and yell at him in baby-speak.

“Nadia Avery, how do you keep getting out the door!”

Maybe cause you leave it open? He suppressed the urge to roll his eyes.

Regardless, there you were, swooping down to gather the bundle into your arms with a couple of sobs and more than a few sniffles. “Baby, you have to stop doing that! You scare mommy.” Nadia was nuzzling your jaw but then suddenly pointed right at him.

“Dorl got Nada.”

When your eyes found his own, Daryl froze. His arms were out to his sides, his eyes wide. He looked nothing short of a deer caught in the sights of his crossbow when it realized it’s about to be shot. “I—uh, kid found me.” Forcing himself to relax a fraction, he rubbed at the back of his neck. “Didn’t want ‘er wand’rin’ ‘round by herself.”

Your face softened into a grateful smile. “Thank you for making sure she got home.” He nodded curtly and you turned away, only to turn back in the same motion. “Would you like to come inside? I have some stew that I’m heating. Plenty for the three of us.”

A part of him that he didn’t know existed wanted to immediately accept the offer but the part of him that had kept him alive this long spoke louder. “Nah, got my own dinner I need to take care’a. Thanks, though.”

You nodded, the smile never faltering. “Think of it as a standing invitation. Nadia seems to like you. She’s a good judge of character.”

He snorted. “Alright.”

“Goodnight, Daryl.”

“Night.” He took two steps.

“Nigh’ nigh’, Dorl!”

He heard the sound of a kiss being blown his way, but didn’t turn around. Maybe if he ignored her, she’d go away.

It had been three days since he had last seen you or Nadia. He found that it unsettled him but not enough to go looking. Aaron had gifted him a work area and parts to build himself a bike. It was the best thing anyone could have offered him at that point. He felt like he still wasn’t fitting in, and while that was the idea at first, now it just felt…lonely.

Carol was always gone when he got up and not home yet when we retired to bed. Rick and Michonne couldn’t stay out of the bedroom for more than five minutes unless something ‘coppy’ needed to be handled. Carl was always outside with Jude in the nice weather.

Daryl was alone. Though he usually preferred it that way, he couldn’t seem to shake the negativity it seemed to bring to the surface.

Spending time around something familiar from the old world came to be a comfort. When the posh little community with its “good morning” while walking the dog and laughter over coffee at the gazebo became too much for Daryl, he disappeared into Aaron’s garage. Aaron and his husband seemed okay in the archer’s book. They never once stared at him like he was going to rob them blind or beat them to a pulp. They showed him kindness even if his only attempts at conversation consisted of nods and grunts.

“You going to this party tonight?” Aaron asked from the doorway the led into the house from the garage.

“Nah.” Daryl picked up a wrench and continued his work, not giving the question a proper thought.

“You really should make an effort to get to know more people here.”

“They don’t like me. Shouldn’t, really.” The archer shrugged.

“They just don’t know you. Maybe you should give them a chance.” Aaron kept his persuasion in the doorway. He had gifted Daryl that space and was unwilling to step into it without an invitation he was unlikely to receive without asking.

“Better they don’t know me.”

There was a sigh that made Daryl curl his lip. “Just think about it, okay?” The shuffle of feet and the door opening signaled the other man’s exit.

Why should Daryl go? He had little interest in fitting in, even when his own group was making such an effort. Carol and Rick were wary and had whatever it was they had but Carol would tell him if she felt it necessary. Daryl was just plain wary, utterly uninterested. Most of them would likely be dead soon and he didn’t need anyone else to mourn.

So why he found himself showered and in a fresh set of clothing that was his own form of presentable was absolutely beyond him. It had nothing to do with the fact that on his walk home, he thought maybe you’d be at the party. Nope, nothing like that.

He had made it at least to the yard outside, watching the festivities through the window. Everyone he knew seemed so at ease in there. Dressed up, laughing and drinking. Mingling like they belonged there. He didn’t belong there.

“Nah.” He said softly before turning away. He was passing by Aaron’s house when a call of his name from that familiar voice had him stopping with a sigh. “Yeah?”

“You went. Good for you. Did you have a good time?” Aaron asked from the porch. Daryl shrugged. The man’s eyes narrowed and suddenly the archer was nervous, feeling judged. “You didn’t go in, did you?”

Daryl shook his head. “Just ain’t my thing.”

“Hey, you tried.”

“Why didn’t you go?” That wasn’t supposed to sound so accusatory but Daryl was tired and had simply had his fill of the day and that place.

“Eric’s ankle is still giving him trouble. We just thought it best to skip out on this one.”

This one? Christ. That insinuated there would be more. With an inward groan, he answered outwardly with a grunt.

“We’ve got dinner ready. More than can feed us. Can we tempt you?” The offer was sincere and Daryl was hungry, but his battery was running on fumes. He glanced toward his own home and then back at Aaron. “Eric makes a mean spaghetti, man. Come on, you’re already out.”

Daryl sighed. “Fine.” He was grateful for the invitation, he just sucked at showing it, as with almost every other emotion. Aaron held open the door and with a nod, the archer entered, still ill at ease being inside someone else’s home when his own still felt less than comfortable.

“Dorl.”

Before he could prepare himself, Nadia was latching onto his lower legs. Arms out awkwardly, he glared at Aaron. “Didn’t say she was here.”

The man just shrugged a shoulder. “Didn’t say she wasn’t either.”

“Hi, Daryl!” You came around the corner from the dining room, no doubt to gather your spawn but he couldn’t seem to form a thought around the smile you were giving him.

“Mama! Dorl!”

“I can see that, baby. You think you can let go so that he can walk?” Nadia shook her head with a vicious pout.

“Dorl up?”

“What?” He looked down at the toddler and back up at you, silently hoping you’d act as translator for the little gremlin.

“She wants you to pick her up. You don’t—”

For reasons unbeknownst to even him, he bent down and placed his hands beneath Nadia’s arms, lifting her onto his hip. It felt no different than holding Judith. Nadia was heavier of course.

“Dorl!” Chubby arms wrapped around his neck, her little cheek rubbing against his stubbled one. “Tickle.” She giggled like it was the funniest thing in the world and repeated the action.

You were still smiling but much more softly. “She really likes you.” Daryl grunted. “You don’t say much, do you?”

“Ain’t gotta lot to say.” He shrugged the shoulder Nadia’s chin was resting on, sending her into another fit of giggles. She pulled back suddenly, very in his space and then pressed her face against his cheek. He flinched but otherwise didn’t move. There was the smallest flutter that tickled his skin before she reared back again, smiling proudly. “What—”

“Butterfly kisses.” You informed, arms crossed but your smile hidden behind your hand.

“What the fu—heck’s that?”

“Oh come on, you never gave your mom butterfly kisses?” You chuckled.

Daryl felt nauseous at the mention of his mother. The only thing he’d shared with her were bruises and a few after-beating hugs. But you didn’t know him. He took the anger and locked it down, but it must have spilled into his expression.

“I’m sorry.” Your smile was gone, but to his surprise (and relief), there was no pity in your eyes. Only understanding. Still, it wasn’t a subject he cared to let linger.

He turned his attention to the child, who had developed a sudden interest in the hair over his ears. “Ya ever gave a Eskimo kiss?” He almost laughed out loud when Nadia’s eyes flew wide with wonder. She didn’t confirm or deny but the fact that she hadn’t moved was answer enough. “S’simple.” Daryl brought a hand up to the back of her head and gently urged her forward, rubbing the tip of his nose over hers. “There. Eskimo kiss.”

She kept those wide eyes as her little mouth began to spread open into one of the biggest smiles he’d ever seen on a kid, granted he hadn’t spent much time around any.

“Again!” She squealed, grabbing his cheeks and pulling him forward. He expected to have a bloody nose from the force with which she came at him, but her movements became deliberate and gentle, as if getting it right was the most important thing in the world.

Nadia was incredibly pleased with herself, her little hands patting against Daryl’s chest before she wiggled out her request for freedom and sprinted toward the dining room with this newfound information to share with Eric and Aaron.

“Careful.” You said, though there was no hint of anything unkind in your tone. When he looked away from the other room, he found your expression to be one he couldn’t seem to identify. It was soft yet guarded. He didn’t move away when you reached a single hand out to adjust his vest. “You’re smiling.” And you walked away, leaving him there to realize that he was indeed wearing a small, lopsided grin.

He shook it off with a groan, absolutely regretting his decision to come in for dinner.

“Dorl!” Came the loud shout from the table. “Dorl, sketti!”

This was not going to end well.

It had been two weeks since the spaghetti dinner, which in fact had ended rather pleasantly. Aside from your giggles when he realized he was eating his meal with the same gusto and manners as the toddler next to him, Aaron had offered him a job that let him go outside the walls. He’d accepted almost immediately.

Little Nadia had been determined to take him home with them, so he walked you there with her tiny hand in his. Halfway, she had begun to tire and fuss, instinct had kicked in and he scooped her up in the same manner he would Judith. The child was asleep on his shoulder almost instantly.

He had zero intention of entering your home and was thankful the kid was out cold so that she couldn’t initiate the suggestion. He had passed her off to you and started to leave.

“Daryl.” You had called quietly. He still wasn’t sure why he had turned back to you so quickly. “That invitation is still open.” You smiled, he grunted. “Thanks for being so sweet with her. Goodnight.”

There had been a heavy feeling in his chest but he had nodded. “G’night.”

Now, you and little Nadia were almost a constant presence when he wasn’t beyond the wall. A presence that he found no longer really irritated him.

He would sit on the porch with the kid, working on his crossbow while Nadia colored or played with toys. He had to find her some of her own to have there because it seemed she and Judith were at odds about Daryl’s attention. He had made the mistake of lifting lil’ asskicker out of her playpen while Nadia was on his heels and the latter had begun to wail.

He had quickly passed Jude off to an equally concerned Michonne and scooped up the kid. “S’wrong? Hey.” Little arms wrapped around his neck and, though he didn’t see the angry pout directed at the other baby, Michonne did. He turned at her chuckle, eyes wide and confused.

Before she could explain, those little arms squeezed harder. “My Dorl.”

From that moment on, he saved time with Judith for emergencies (there were none) and for after Nadia had gone home with you.

“Don’t touch that, Dia.” Daryl huffed, catching her little hand reaching for the knife he had on the porch table. He had spent the morning skinning a few squirrels for Carol to use in a stew but was at that point, working on the tension on his bow.

And babysitting.

You had some inventory to do at the infirmary with Pete. The doctor gave him bad vibes so when you had asked, he’d accepted all too quickly. Even offered to tag along and keep an eye on the kid there. In the end, after you had politely declined, he had reasoned that you were a grown woman and could handle yourself.

“Babysitting, again, hmm?”

Daryl glanced up from his crossbow toward Carol on the top step, Nadia already beaming up at her from the hug around her waist. It lasted all of three seconds before the kid was back to her toys beside Daryl’s boot.

“Mhm.” Was the only answer he offered, one that was mimicked from the little person below him. He didn’t smile but Carol didn’t miss the way his eyes left the weapon to regard Nadia for a moment before returning to the task.

“Where’s Y/N?” She asked, plopping down onto the other chair. She grabbed a toy that had rolled away and handed it back to the child.

“Some inventory shit at the infirmary.” Daryl shrugged, rotating the bow to check his work. Carol made a noise that gave him pause, one he didn’t like. “What?”

“No one’s at the infirmary. I was just there for Mr. Henderson’s blood pressure medication.”

He could feel his heartrate picking up, a sense of foreboding so strong that he could barely think straight. “Pete weren’t there?”

Carol shook her head. “No one.” She sat up straight when Daryl stood, sheathing his knife and placing his crossbow on the railing. “Daryl?”

“Dia, I’m gonna be right back. You’re gonna stay with Carol for a few minutes. Tell me the rules.”

Nadia’s wide eyes narrowed into seriousness. “No bow. No move. Be good. No shit.” It took her a moment to babble through the small list but Daryl ruffled her hair with the smallest of half smiles.

“No shit, Daryl?”

He was already stepping off the porch. “Her mama hears ‘er sayin’ that an’ m’a dead man.”

Carol laughed and shook her head, turning her attention to the little human that was already working up to a cry as Daryl walked out of sight. “Do you like cookies, Nadia?”

He checked the infirmary first. He didn’t doubt Carol, but maybe she had missed a room or something. It was, as Carol had said, empty. “Fuck.” The next most logical place would be your home. He ran the entire way. He’d feel like an absolute fool if you were fine, but he’d cross that bridge later. The door was open, he could see that from the moment he rounded the curb. You had a habit of doing that and he hated it, but who was he to tell you what to do?

“Y/N?” He took your steps two at a time and stopped on the threshold. “Y/N? Are ya here?” No answer. He felt like shit the moment his boot touched the floor inside. He’d never taken you up on an invitation for the dinner you continuously offered him, much less any offer to simply come inside. Now here he was tearing room to room, in your safe space. There were covered pots on the stove and the oven was on, but where were you? “Y/N!” He placed a booted foot on the bottom stair before your voice stunned him frozen.

“Daryl?”

He nearly collapsed in relief.

“What’s wrong? Where’s Nadia? Daryl?”

“She’s fine. She’s with Carol.” He rasped, sheathing his knife when he saw you staring at it. Your hair was wet, your clothes damp. You must have been in the shower. “M’sorry. Carol said ya weren’t at the—just got worried. M’sorry.” His eyes had lowered to the stairs below you but then your bare feet were padding down them to stop directly in front of him. “I’ll, uh—lemme go get ‘er.” He had barely moved before your hand was on his shoulder. To his shock, he didn’t flinch; didn’t even have the urge.

“Are you okay?” You asked, ducking your head to seek out his gaze. He continued to expertly dodge.

“M’fine. Just—I’ll go get Dia.” He stepped away and out of the loose grip you had on him, immediately missing the warmth of your hand. What the hell was wrong with him?

“I was making us dinner.” The words rushed out of you, like you were trying to get them out before he could leave. Daryl looked over his shoulder from the doorway, an eyebrow arched. “Us. Me, Nadia, and—well, you.”

“Me? Why?” He hadn’t meant to sound so unkind, ungrateful, but that was just who he was down deep, wasn’t it? Still, you seemed unbothered, your nervousness born of something else entirely.

“Because Nadia likes you. I like you. We’d like to spend time with you that doesn’t involve me asking for favors or the entire community leering and making assumptions.”

He still hadn’t fully turned, but narrowed his eyes. “Think they ain’t gonna make assumptions when ya have me in your house?”

“Fair point.” You nodded, chuckling. “Honestly, I don’t give a fuck what they think but I worry that you do.” Head tilted, Daryl turned but remained in the doorway. “You seem so private, quiet. I don’t want to do anything that makes you uncomfortable.” Your bottom lip disappeared between your teeth for a moment. “So, will you come? Please?”

As much as he tried, he couldn’t sense a single ounce of dishonesty or ill intent in you. It was certainly there, wasn’t it? No one outside of the group that had grown to like him over months of death and sorrow wanted anything to do with him. So, why you? Why Nadia? “Alright, I’ll go get ‘er an’ be back.” He turned and took a step before you called out again.

“Don’t worry about changing or anything. Just bring you, okay?”

He nodded around the very foreign flutter in his chest, clearing his throat and leaving the house before he could overthink things right there in front of you. He’d be able to do that in abundance on the way to grab the kid.

To say he was confused was the largest of understatements. You were a beautiful woman. Where was Nadia’s father? In that world, the absence usually meant he was either dead or had willingly left, which he couldn’t fathom either. Was the kid the reason all the single men weren’t knocking down your door? That couldn’t be it. Nadia was amazing, all bright smiles and such an innocence that was refreshing in a world as dark it was.

Even if you did have suitors, why were you taking the time to get to know him? He was damn sure nothing special and had nothing to offer you. Daryl growled at himself. He was jumping the gun. You hadn’t expressed any real interest in him. You wanted to have dinner. Aaron and Eric had him over for dinner all the time. It was what friends did. He was your friend after all. He had to be for you to trust him with Nadia. He snorted. Maybe that was all the brat’s doing and you were just along for the ride.

His shoulders were slumped, feet dragging by the time he made it back to his house, already opening his arms in expectation of the bundle of Nadia that would be leaping into them any moment. “Dorl!”

“She was about to strap on your crossbow and come find you herself.” Carol teased from the doorway.

“I was barely gone twenty minutes, kid.” He nodded to Carol and turned back to take Nadia home. “Your mama’s at home makin’ something for supper. Ya hungry?”

“Mmmmhmmmm!” Little legs were swinging while bright eyes watched the street in front of them, her arms loosely around his neck, trusting him to not let her fall. And he would never. Daryl craned his head to look at her, all dark hair and big blue eyes. She could pass as his own kid to anyone who didn’t know better.

Whoa. That train of that was roughly derailed.

Easily done when the top of her head leaned against his temple and she began to hum some tune he didn’t know. It calmed his anxiety enough to not eat him from the inside out before he made it back to your house. Nadia was wiggling to be lowered before he could even get her to the steps. Much to her annoyance (if her little growl and pout were anything to go by), he didn’t place her on her feet until they were on the porch.

The door was still open and, man, he really wanted you to stop doing that.

“Mama!” Nadia squealed, running right into your arms.

“Hi, baby! Did you have fun with Daryl today?” You hefted her onto your hip, your face turned toward hers even though your smile was aimed at the archer.

“We always have fun.” He was close enough to ruffle the kid’s hair without invading your space.

“No shit!” Nadia proclaimed with her arms in the air. You were smiling but your eyebrows shot up toward your hairline. Daryl cleared his throat.

“M’a tell Carol to watch ‘er mouth.”

“Carol. Right.” You chuckled. You started to reach for his arm but must have thought better of it and motioned toward the dining room instead. He found he was disappointed. “Go ahead and sit down wherever. There’s some wine and water already there.”

Daryl liked wine. He’d partake when at Aaron and Eric’s for dinner but here? He wasn’t sure that was such a good idea. The table could seat six but there were three places set, the middle chair holding a booster seat. He didn’t sit, wouldn’t until you did. Instead he noticed how close the glasses of wine were sitting to Nadia’s place and took the liberty of moving each of them to the other side. Not that the kid would bother them but it just felt—right?

“Alright, kiddo. You get to eat first.” You weren’t carrying Nadia anymore but she was right behind you, looking up at the bowl of pasta like a pup that was about to get its kibble. Daryl was already lifting the kid into her seat when you turned from placing the bowl on the table. “Thank you.” You did touch his arm then. “Go ahead and sit. I’ll be right back.”

Nadia had apparently chosen his spot for him, patting the back of the chair to her left. Chewing on the side of his thumb, he glanced toward the kitchen. Wasn’t he supposed to pull your chair out for you or something? Aaron had.

“No, no, Dorl.” Nadia pulled at his elbow, earning a halfhearted scowl before he realized she was trying to get him to stop the anxious habit.

“Sorry.” He mumbled, not sure why he was apologizing when she just went back to dancing and eating once he had dropped his hand. He watched her for a moment, just being a kid, innocent and oblivious to the dangers and heartache that lay in wait just outside of Alexandria’s protective walls. She and you—just two more people for him to mourn in the end. What was he doing there? He had no business being in your lives. If he didn’t lose the two of you, then you would lose him. It was inevitable. It was fate. It was the way the world worked now, tirelessly snuffing out any semblance of light that could give someone like him hope.

And goddamnit, he’d be devastated. He adored your kid and though he couldn’t quite decipher what it was that he felt for you, he knew that if anything happened to you, he’d shatter.

“Daryl?”

“What?” He snapped out of reflex, not fully out of his head before he had realized you were speaking. You flinched, the pasta in the two bowls you were holding bounced but didn’t spill. “M’sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it. Are you okay?” The bowls were placed on the table and a basket of fresh bread that he hadn’t noticed you had already brought out. How long had he been standing there?

“Yeah, uh—yeah, m’fine.” He shifted his weight from foot to foot, suddenly feeling very trapped in the small room. It wasn’t really that small, was it? “M’just—” He didn’t finish before he all but ran to the door, closing it behind him like he really wished you would start doing. He had a cigarette lit within seconds, trembling fingers bringing it to his lips for a long drag.

Pale light from inside cascaded around him as the door opened. You didn’t move any closer, obviously staying near Nadia while the little girl ate. “You okay?”

“Mhm.” Lie.

“Come back inside?” You requested after glancing toward Nadia, finding her eating her pasta elegantly with her fingers. Daryl said nothing, wasn’t even sure he could, but he flicked his cigarette toward the sidewalk and stood, walking past you with but a beat of hesitance.

Despite Nadia’s excitement at his return, he remained quiet, but offered the kid a ghost of a smile when she offered a bite of her own food. Disgruntled at his refusal, she wore her own version of a scowl and continued to eat. You had taken your seat, giving the bread basket a tiny shove toward the archer.

“Thanks.” He mumbled. He wasn’t sure how to act around you anymore. Staring at his food, he questioned whether the way he usually ate might disgust you. It was never something he actively thought about. He grew up in a home where he snatched what he could get and ate it quickly before someone could take it or reprimand him for it. It was nearly the same now that the world had ended. Thankful for any scrap of food, but quick to make sure it was gone before someone came ready to fight for it.

“If you think any louder, I might be able to hear it.”

Daryl glanced up, unable to meet your eyes. You were swirling the wine around in the glass with your gaze settled on him. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s just dinner, Daryl.”

With a barely there nod, he picked up his fork and began to eat, slowly and carefully, not noticing the way you watched him with a quizzical expression.

Nadia was having a hard time keeping her head up by the time dinner was finished, her little eyes closing before snapping open with a jerk of her head.

“Time for bed.” You announced, attempting to wipe her face around languid movements of annoyance. “Come on, baby.” Lifting her from the chair, you tilted your head when she leaned her upper body back toward Daryl, reaching out with lazy, grabby hands.

“Dorl night night.”

Halfway out of his seat, he froze. “Think ya should, uh—your mama should handle this’un, Dia.” She didn’t seem to have it in her to argue, flopping onto your shoulder. You managed to hold up a finger, asking him to wait while you put Nadia to bed. He did, but busied himself gathering the dishes, taking them to the sink, and rinsing them out as Carol had trained him to do. “Wow, my very own human dishwasher. Can I keep you?”

Daryl felt the heat rise in his face, traveling down to his chest and up to the tips of his ears. “Stop.” God, you were just as bad as Carol.

“Daryl.”

Oh, boy. Your tone had gone from playful to serious in two seconds flat. His stomach was in knots but he dared not turn around and rinsed the same bowl at least three times. “Hmm?”

“I’d like to see, uh—I’d like it if you'd come around more often. Tonight was—it was nice.”

And there it was. The one thing that had caused him so much inner turmoil now confirmed. You were interested and, for the life of him, he couldn’t understand why. When he finally managed to get his tongue to work, the words that spilled out were nothing like the ones running through his head and he regretted them immediately. “Where’s Dia’s daddy?” Christ, Dixon. “M’sorry.” He tried to backpedal, finally turning toward you and leaning back against the sink with a white-knuckled grip against the edge of the countertop. “Ain’t my business.”

“Gone. I don’t really give a fuck where.” You shrugged, so nonchalantly that he had to look at you. “He didn’t want her. Nearly got himself killed finding pills for me to take. I refused, he left. But I have her and I hope he’s a walker.” Your gaze was fond but serious, and he found not a single trace of annoyance or anger. “She’s never really liked men. Even Aaron and Eric had to coax her inside for dinner with a stale candybar.” You laughed at the memory, and Daryl realized he could listen to that sound for the rest of his life. “But then you. She wasn’t afraid, not for a single second.”

“It was the ‘possum.” He shrugged, shyly ducking his head for only a moment but looking back up through his fringe when you laughed again.

“Okay, we can go with that.” You lifted yourself up onto the island, kicking your legs, reminding him of Nadia. “Doesn’t really explain why she stuck to you like glue every moment since then, though. Dorl this and Dorl that. I’m not complaining. You’re good for her.” Daryl scoffed, ducking his head once more. “You are, Daryl. And I think she might be good for you too.”

“She’s a kid. Don’t know no better.” He shrugged, the urge to run becoming more and more prevalent. He didn’t belong there. It wasn’t his family. Nadia wasn’t his kid and you weren’t his. God, he wished you were.

You hummed, holding back something. “I had fun tonight, but when you come back, don't worry so much about what I think, okay?” The way he tried to eat more slowly?

“Yeah, okay. Was nice. Thanks, uh—thanks for havin’ me.” The archer made the choice to pass you and head for the door. Your bare feet hit the floor just behind him. “I’ll see ya ‘round. Lemme know if ya need someone to watch Dia.” Why the hell did he offer that?

“I will. Thank you.” The smile you gave him was almost sad. Maybe disappointed? “Goodnight, Daryl.”

“Yeah. Night.” He crossed the threshold but turned back, keeping his head low. “Keep your door shut.” There was no time for you to answer before he was jogging down your steps, barely slowing his stride all the way home. All the lights were off when he arrived and he couldn’t be more grateful to slip in and down to his room to berate himself properly until he was finally able to fall asleep.

Logically, he should have avoided you since that night, but Daryl never claimed to be the brightest crayon in the box. He absolutely did not look for reasons to go to your house, satisfied to find the door closed each and every time. If he saw you carrying something, he’d jog over to take it from you, no matter how big or small. He responded by meeting Nadia in the middle each time she called for him, even if he was covered in dark blood and brain matter.

“Dorl smell ick.” She would say.

He was down bad and though he would deny it until his last breath with the age old line of we’re just friends, Carol was smarter than that.

“Daryl, you and I are friends. You’re sweet on that girl and you can fight me if you try to claim any different.” She stirred at the brownie batter, intermittently swatting away his hand when he tried to sneak a taste. “You should just tell her how you feel.”

“Stop actin’ like ya know ev’rythin’.” He snapped with no real heat.

“Okay, fine. I know nothing.” She stated coolly, spreading the mixture into a baking pan. “Except that Spencer has been spending an awful lot of time around her and Nadia.”

Well, that had his attention. “What? When?” He hopped off the countertop and was quickly standing just beside Carol, moving accordingly so that she could continue her baking.

“Usually when you’re out. I think you intimidate him.”

“Damn well better intimidate him.”

“Why? You’re ‘just friends,’ remember?” Daryl curled his lip at her air quotes, turning on a heel to head toward the door.

“Shuddup.”

He hadn’t been focused, lingering on what Carol had told him that morning. Worrying that Spencer was putting the moves on you that very moment he wasn’t there to do anything about it. What if he’d missed his chance? He growled, trying to take more of his own weight off of Aaron but his leg burned and ached.

“Ain’t that bad.” He tried to brush it off, but it was, in fact, that bad. He hadn’t seen the damn trap, the walker backing him right onto it. He was lucky the dead bastard didn’t take a chunk of him when he went down, but Aaron was quick. Had Daryl been alone, he’d likely be snarling and growling on the ground with his calf still locked within that metal.

“Keep telling yourself that and maybe your stubbornness will keep you on your feet until we can make it back.” The other man huffed. “First Eric, now you. I swear, I’m cursed.” Daryl groaned but couldn’t disagree.

Christ. The archer’s head was fucked. He couldn’t focus with images of you running rampant at the forefront of his mind. The way you would smile when you saw him; how you’d laugh when he’d huff at Dia for calling him Dorl; you’d have him for dinner a few times a week and it was less and less awkward.

He was so fucked.

“Open the gate!” Aaron called urgently. Daryl hadn’t even been paying attention but maybe zoning out was what brought him that far with such an injury. The toe of his boot was dragging, his leg both numb and throbbing in a way he couldn’t seem to understand was even possible. Sasha was yelling, but he couldn’t understand what she was saying. He was too busy trying to look over his shoulder at the steady crimson trail that followed them. Would walkers follow it right to the gates? “Jesus, okay. I’m going to get help to carry you to the infirmary.”

“Fuck Pete. Gimme Y/N or just take me home.” Daryl slurred, his head falling back against the metal just inside the gates. He was fading, tired and smothered by a dark cloud that was creeping into the edges of his vision and mind. He knew he wouldn’t die from this, but damn, did it still suck.

“Dorl! Mama, Dorl boo-boo!”

Tiny, warm hands were on his face. He was cold, didn’t even realize it. Big blue eyes were hovering right in front of his face, a little mouth between chubby cheeks speaking with an urgency that made him want to scoop her up and soothe the worry. “Dia.” He breathed, his mind finally catching up, though he wasn’t sure for how long.

“Nada kiss boo-boo.”

Daryl chuckled breathlessly but pulled the little girl against his chest. “Nah, baby girl, don’t kiss that boo-boo. S’gross.” Big crocodile tears were forming and falling, and his heart ached. His little girl was never supposed to cry, never supposed to even be sad. “M’okay. Your mama’s gonna make it all better, you’ll see.”

“Mama, Dorl got big boo-boo.”

“I see that, baby. Can you move so mommy can take a look?” You were there, your voice a balm to the pain that was slowly fading.

“She’s alright.” Daryl shifted Nadia to his side, letting her hold on with her head on his filthy chest. You’d have to give her a bath later and somehow, he had the energy to feel bad about that.

“Jesus, Daryl, what did you do?” You were cutting the lower part of his pant leg, right there on the street, but he didn’t have it in him to see who might be watching. He muttered bear trap but didn’t really recall it being his voice. Was it even him?

The child holding to him made a noise when the wound was revealed, jagged punctures that still steadily bled and she shouldn’t be seeing that. Why wasn’t someone taking her away? “Ssh. S’okay, Dia. Just look at me—can ya hum that song ya always do when we take ya home?” A tiny sniffle but then a little tune in his ear.

“What happened? He okay?” Rick.

“Daryl!” Ah, Carol. Good.

“Hey, take her, would ya? Don’t need to be here.” He was gentle if not weak when he tried to hand off Nadia, kissing one of her little hands when he finally peeled them away from his neck. “M’a be okay, Dia.” She cried. Even as Carol promised her cookies and brownies, she cried and his heart ached more than his leg. He barely caught the word disinfect before the hellfire in his leg struck him like a hammer to the head and he knew no more.

“S’not that big’a deal. I can take care’a myself at home.” Daryl grimaced and watched you moving things around in your living room. You disappeared and returned several moments later with pillows and blankets.

“I know you can, but I also know you’re stubborn as a mule and you’ll try to go out of those gates behind Aaron within a day.” He barely opened his mouth before you held up an authoritative finger. “Don’t lie to me, Daryl Dixon. And don’t pretend I don’t know at least a little by now.”

“Dorl!”

Before he could process her voice, the archer had a lapful of toddler. It was hazy but he could remember how he felt at the gate, the protective instinct, the absolute knowledge that Nadia was his no matter how untrue it was. He couldn’t seem to shake it.

“Hey, Dia.”

“Be careful of his boo-boo, sweetie.” You admonished in the most gentle tone while propping Daryl’s leg up on a pillow. “He’s going to stay with us for a few days so I can keep an eye on him.”

“Why?” Came the innocent reply.

“Because Daryl is naughty and doesn’t like to listen when he’s told he can’t do something. Like you with Miss Carol’s cookies.”

Nadia gasped dramatically and turned those big blues to Daryl. “Dorl takes cookies.”

Glancing at you, expression bland, he nodded. “Yeah, I take the cookies.”

“So he has to stay right here on this couch unless mommy is helping him, okay? Can you be my junior nurse and make sure he stays put?”

“That ain’t fair.” Daryl objected with an indignant pout.

“Why? Because you know it’ll work?”

Daryl grunted and crossed his arms. He was in for a long few days.

A week later, the stitches were out but there was residual swelling that was hindering healing. Nothing to worry about, you had told him.

“Why ain’t Ken wearin’ no clothes?” Daryl was concerned to be ‘playing Barbies’ when Barbie wore a bathing suit and Ken was naked as the day he was—assembled? So far he’d been able to avoid dialogue and just bounce the doll around with facial expressions that kept the toddler occupied. “Seems a lil’ fucked up.”

“You try finding doll clothes nowadays.” There was laughter in your voice and tenderness in your touch while you cleaned the wound and changed the dressings. Only a couple more days of that.

“Maybe I will.” The archer mused, standing the doll on top of Nadia’s head, keeping it there with his finger on the top. Her little arms could only reach the legs, facing reddening and scrunching with giggles.

“Time to pick up your toys. Daryl needs to rest and you, missy, need to get to bed.”

“Noooooo.”

“Don’t sass your mama.” Daryl dropped the doll in favor of patting the kid on the head. “G’on now.” The archer dropped an arm outward, fully expecting the hug that was incoming. “Night, kid.”

“Nigh’ night’, dada.”

It was at that moment Daryl Dixon completely forgot how to breathe. His eyes were already on yours before the kid decided to drop that bomb and skip away to brush her teeth like she hadn’t just turned his world upside down.

“M’sorry. M’so sorry. I don’t—she didn’t—”

“I’m just—” you interrupted, backing toward the doorway, “I need to put her to bed.” You stumbled out of the room as if he were chasing you.

He wasn’t sure he could move if he tried. His heart was in his nose, his stomach in his ass, and his lungs were plaited around his spine. Why would the kid call him dada? It made no sense. A couple of months wasn’t long enough for anything like that. Right? Fuck, he needed to talk to Carol. His brain was malfunctioning. He couldn’t process this.

Throwing off the blankets, Daryl sat up, levering to his feet. He still had a limp but it was easier now. Shuffling to the exit, he stopped, staring at the handle of the closed door. You’d been doing that now, hadn’t you? He said something once and you had listened.

“So you’re just gonna run away after that, is that it?”

The archer spun so fast that he lost his balance, righting himself with a hand on the wall. “It ain’t—I was—just needed to talk to Carol.” He admitted. His shirt was damp and he was certain he would vomit.

“She didn’t mean anything by it, Daryl. I’ll talk to her.” You were wringing your hands, your chin wobbling.

Don’t cry. Please don’t cry. He had the sudden desire to hug you but didn’t dare move. Aside from casual touches, bumping shoulders in jest, and of course the occasional wound treatment, the two of you had never physically interacted. Not that he hadn’t thought about it. Wow, had he thought about it. “I know she didn’t mean nothin’.” Ouch. Somehow that revelation was worse.

“She loves you, Daryl. I’ll talk to her, I promise. Please don’t walk out on her. On—on me.”

He likely looked like an idiot hobbling half the distance to where you stood. “Ain’t goin’ nowhere.” When you nodded and dropped your head, he dared another unsteady step. “M’a stay as long as ya want me here. You an’ Dia.” With one hand, he touched your shoulder and left the decision up to you. You needed no further prompting to step into his arms. For a moment, nothing else mattered. But then you were stepping back.

“Okay.” You nodded, turning your head to wipe away a tear you thought he didn’t already notice. “I like having you here.” He returned the nod silently.

Nothing else was said. Daryl went back to the couch, you went to get ready for bed. The night went on with both you and Daryl feeling more alone than ever.

“She really called you dada?” Carol asked in an excited whisper, the wide grin on her face in direct contrast to Daryl’s frown. “That’s a good thing, right?”

“No!” He shot back immediately, looking over his shoulder at the little girl playing on the living room floor. They had somehow even managed to get her to sit next to Judith’s playpen, so long as Daryl didn’t touch Lil’ Asskicker, peace remained. “I mean, yeah. Fuck, I dunno what I mean, Carol.”

“Daryl.” The seriousness in her tone brought his gaze to hers, flinching when he found her leaning on her elbows much closer than she had been just a moment ago. “I’m gonna ask you a question and I want you to answer me honestly.”

“Ain’t never lied to ya.”

“Okay.” Her eyes, just as blue as his own, narrowed. “Do you love that little girl?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I do.” It was true. It was so different from how he loved Judith but yet completely the same. He would give anything for her to have been his, to have been there while you carried her. He wanted to spit on the man that tried to force you to end it. He couldn’t imagine a world without you and little Nadia anymore. It was as if the two of you were the missing pieces that could give him a chance to be whole.

“And Y/N?”

“What?”

“Do you love Y/N?” Carol leaned back a little, her gaze no less intense.

“S’a lil’ more—I, uh—”

“I said STOP!”

Daryl was on his feet instantly at the sound of your voice, running outside. His limp was less profound and didn’t hinder him from descending the steps to see you across the street with your arm in Spencer’s grasp. You were likely on your way to collect Nadia.

“Come on, Y/N. You’re beautiful, and I’ve seen the way you look at me.” Spencer pulled you toward him.

“You’re delusional!”

“Stop being such a prude. You’ve got a kid. You think you got any other options out there?”

“Yeah! She does!” Daryl’s fist had already connected before the other man had even realized he was approaching. The archer stepped in front of you and stayed there, coiled to attack but holding steady until he was given a reason.

“You?” Spencer spat, literally, a glob of blood and saliva landing next to Daryl’s boot. “The dirty redneck everyone’s afraid of? That’s laughable.”

Daryl started to move until he felt the smallest tug on his jeans. Nadia was looking up at him, equal parts curious and afraid.

“Dada mad?”

Your arms encircled his stomach with whispers of he’s not worth it repeated over his shoulder. “Get the fuck outta here an’ don’t come near my girls again.” The archer waited, arching a brow when Spencer hesitated.

“You heard him.” Rick stepped up to Daryl’s left, Michonne and Carol on this right. “Best be going now.” Spitting again, the man curled his lip and scrambled to his feet, stomping off toward his mother’s home. “Well, that’s gonna be a problem.”

“I’ll go talk to Deanna.” Maggie offered, nodding at Rick but stopping to squeeze Daryl’s arm on her way by. What the fuck? Had everyone noticed?

“We should make ourselves scarce.” Michonne suggested with a knowing grin.

Once they were all out of sight, Daryl deflated, one hand falling to the top of Nadia’s head. “Ain’t angry, Dia.” She sniffled and seemed to only hug his leg tighter. When it was clear he couldn’t turn with the added weight to his injured leg, you stepped around in front of him.

“Your girls?” You asked, expression so terrifyingly unreadable.

“I just—he needed to leave an’ I didn’t want him to think he could come back ‘round.” His bottom lip was instantly being gnawed between his teeth. “Needed to make sure ya were okay.”

“So, we’re not your girls?” There was definitely disappointment there. You were wringing your hands again before reaching toward Nadia.

“I mean, if ya—yeah.” Daryl swallowed hard. “Yeah, you’re my girls. Have been for a while. M’just a idiot an’ I was—I’m scared. Don’t wanna be like my old man.”

You hummed, stepping into him to brush back the fringe across his eyes. “You haven’t told me anything about your parents, but I’m willing to listen. I wanna know everything about you.”

“Me too—’bout you, I mean. ‘Bout Dia.” He was reaching for your face, leaning in just as you did. His lips barely brushed yours before there came another tug at his jeans again.

“Home, dada.”

You laughed while Daryl just looked stricken and confused. “You heard her, Daryl. Let’s go home and figure this out.”

One Year Later

“Daddy! Lookit picture!!”

Daryl looked up from the mess of rabbits he was skinning on the porch, blowing upward to move some of the hair from his eyes. The almost four year old was sprinting down the street from the Grimes’ house, a piece of paper waving in her grip above her head. He waved to Michonne who had been watching Nadia make it back safely. “Whatcha got there, Dia?” She was grinning from ear to ear when she presented it to him, holding it out in front of her because ew no when he reached for it with bloody fingers.

There were three stick figures. One was obviously him if the crazy hair and scribbled attempt at a crossbow were anything to go by. A small figure was at his side, dark hair and a big smile: Nadia. And then there was you. Daryl snorted. You were a stick figure with a circle drawn around the middle.

“Your mama’s gonna ‘preciate that, kid.”

“Appreciate what?” You stepped out with two glasses of water, placing them on the table and resting your hand on your swollen belly. Nadia proudly displayed the drawing and received a big smile and mhm, so pretty from you while Daryl snickered into his shoulder. “Go put it on the fridge, baby, and wash your hands. Supper’s nearly ready.”

“Okay, mama!” And off she went in a blur.

“Not funny, Dixon.” You dug your bare toes into his lower back until he yelped.

“S’a little funny.” He wiped his knife across his jeans.

“About as funny as you cleaning these rabbits on my front porch.” He ducked his head sheepishly when he turned to watch you lower into your chair.

“I’ll clean it up, Sunshine. Don’t get all uppity ‘bout it.” Rising from his perch, he gathered the meat onto a parchment you had given him and wrapped it, leaving the bones and fur to handle later. “Dia! C’mere!” Moving at inhuman speed, she was looking up at him from the doorway the next second. Daryl jerked his chin toward a bag on the table beside his water glass. “Broughtcha somethin’ back.”

You leaned forward with curiosity and watched your daughter pull out the contents of the bag, barely catching a glimpse of the different colors before Nadia hugged Daryl’s leg and disappeared back inside with squeals of delight echoing in her wake.

“What did you bring her?”

Daryl smirked. “Told ya I’d find clothes for them dolls.”

820 notes · View notes

brain-palace · 2 months

Text

Daryl: Kinda wanna kiss ya.

Y/N, not paying attention: What?

Daryl: Said if ya die, I won’t miss ya.

762 notes · View notes

brain-palace · 2 months

Text

Y/N: My hands are cold.

Daryl: Give ‘em here.

Y/N, watching him hold her hands between his: …

Y/N: My lips are cold too.

Daryl, covering her mouth with his hand: That better?

829 notes · View notes

brain-palace · 3 months

Text

Let’s Ditch (JJ Maybank x Reader)

Word count: 1.4K

Summary: JJ convinces you to ditch school with him and go out on the boat, only for the two of you to get stranded

Tags: fluff, friends to lovers, love confessions, kissing, just some overall sweetness

A/N: first fic of the year 🫶 wanted to start off on a nice note with some simple fluff

obx masterlist

“Please, please, please—”

“Oh my god, JJ, fine!” you agreed, finally breaking.

He’d spent the last few minutes doing everything in his power to persuade you to ditch the rest of school and go out on the HMS Pogue with him.

After nothing else worked (asking nicely, bargaining, bribing), he resorted to begging. Relentlessly.

And, just as JJ had hoped, he wore you down before you could go to your next class.

“You’re the best!” He smiled, beaming with victory.

Sneaking out of the school was easier than it should’ve been. The two of you simply walked off campus and found where JJ parked his bike.

He put on his sunglasses and grinned at you. You rolled your eyes and bit back a smile. You were already having fun, you always did with JJ.

You climbed on, sitting behind JJ. You locked your arms around his waist when he told you to hold on tight. He revved the engine then took off well over the speed limit, leaving the school behind. He was going so fast he had to hold onto his hat with each turn, and the wind drowned out your laughter.

It was a short ride to the Chateau, and soon enough the two of you were hopping off. JJ left his bike in the yard and jogged to catch up to you, swinging an arm over your shoulders. Your face heated up as he hurried you both down the dock.

You lifted your hand to shield the sun from your eyes, watching JJ get the boat in the water.

“Does John B know we’re here?” you wondered, other hand falling to your hip.

“C’mon, you know he doesn’t mind!” JJ called back, hopping on to the boat. “Let’s go!”

That wasn’t exactly a “yes”, but you still stepped on, taking JJ’s hand to do so.

“Such a gentleman,” you commented lightly.

He responded, “Only for you.”

JJ went to the wheel, driving the two of you away from the dock and out into the marshes.

The further you got, the more relieved you grew that you were out of that boring school. You did your best to take it seriously because it was supposed to be important, but you missed summer break already.

“Can I drive?” you asked after a while, forgetting the story you’d been in the middle of telling JJ.

“Of course,” JJ said dramatically. He stepped back from the wheel, making way for you. He took off his sunglasses and shoved them onto your face. “You might want these.”

You laughed, adjusting them.

“Thank you very much.”

JJ grinned. “No problem, Captain.”

“Captain?” You hummed. “I like the sound of that.”

That was your last comment before you went full throttle. JJ held on tight, turning his red cap backwards to keep it from flying off his head. You had to grip the wheel tight to stay standing, both of you whooping and hollering at the speed.

Except, you didn’t get far. In a matter of minutes the boat was sputtering to a stop. That quickly killed the yells and grins of adrenaline.

“So, um, we’re out of gas,” the blonde declared when he returned from checking the tank.

You crossed your arms and leaned back against the wheel, knowing you weren’t going anywhere.

“Well, how much was in it when you first checked?”

JJ looked guilty. The fuel gauge was busted and John B had to get it fixed, so recently you’ve been having to check manually.

“Um, about that… I might have not checked.”

“You didn’t check?”

“Did you see me check?”

“So, let’s recap,” you started, holding your hands out. “You convince me to go on the boat and then you forget to check if it had any gas in it?”

“That pretty much covers it, yeah,” JJ replied to your sass with an equal amount.

“A+ planning,” you quipped.

“Wow, my first A+,” he joked, and you couldn’t smother the grin that started to form. “I’m sorry about the gas—we can call Pope, see if he can come bring us some.”

“It’s okay,” you assured him. “Although there’s no way Pope is leaving class early to rescue us.”

As it would turn out, you were right. You got lucky when you called him because he was between classes, so he actually answered. However, he said he could come get you but he wasn’t going to leave school early. That was after he called JJ a bad influence on you.

JJ couldn’t argue with that.

It was close to the end of the school day, so you wouldn’t have to wait too long for him, but it would still be over an hour.

You ended up sitting on the deck facing one another, trying to keep low to avoid the sun. You went back and forth talking about anything and everything and you had to admit, it was better than being in class. Then again, being with JJ was one of your favorite things, so it wasn’t a fair competition.

“No way you think C.H.U.D. is the best horror movie,” you argued when he brought it up.

“I’m pretending I didn’t hear you say that,” JJ shot back. “Why do you think I bring it up all the time?”

“Okay but that doesn’t make it a masterpiece just ‘cause you talk about it. That’s like saying being a mortician is the best job ever just because Pope always talks about it.”

JJ’s smile grew and you gave him a look.

“What?” you wondered, noticing the expression.

“This is nice,” JJ said, causing you to laugh.

“Arguing about movies is nice?”

“Well, yeah. It’s been so long since we’ve hung out,” JJ said with a shrug. Clearly it had been on his mind. You opened your mouth to counter, but he continued. “I mean, I see you everyday because of school and stuff, but I feel we haven’t really hung out just us in a while.”

You frowned a little. “It’s not like I don’t want to, it’s just been a busy month…”

“I know, I don’t blame you,” JJ assured. “I just miss you.” He hesitated before continuing. “A lot. And I was gonna tell you all that today, but I didn’t imagine it being because we were stuck out here getting sunburned.”

You gave him a curious look. “You didn’t have to bring me out here just to tell me you wanted to hang out more.”

JJ snorted. “It wasn’t just that,” he revealed. “I wanted it to be just us and not have an excuse to back out…”

“Back out? You’re not gonna push me overboard, are you?” you teased, and you and JJ both laughed. “Because I can swim, y’know.”

“Not my plan at all, but nice to know that’s where your mind goes.”

You relaxed with the taunting as you asked, “So what is it, then?”

JJ fiddled with his hands, eyes flicking away from yours for a minute. You watched him carefully, wondering where he was going with this.

Before he could continue, you heard a boat approaching. You got to your feet and so did JJ. The two of you spotted Heyward’s boat with Pope on board heading towards you.

“Hey there!” you called, waving to Pope. He waved back. You looked at JJ and saw his expression shift. “Wait, what were you gonna tell me?” He bit his lip. “Come on, don’t back out. You said you weren’t going to, so what is it?”

“Right, okay,” he said, getting a bit antsy. “What I was gonna ask is… will you go out with me?”

Your brows shot up.

“Like a date?”

JJ smiled sheepishly. “Exactly like a date.”

“Okay,” you answered, a smile overtaking your features. You didn’t even hesitate.

“Okay…” he repeated, like he couldn’t quite believe it. “Okay—yeah. Awesome!”

The two of you chuckled at his excitement, and you stepped closer to him.

A silence fell over the two of you and you knew you were thinking the same thing.

JJ leaned in to kiss you, and you met him halfway. Your lips fit together perfectly, but it didn’t last long.

“Hey guys!” Pope called, pulling the boat up next to the HMS Pogue. You and JJ turned to look up at him, seeing the amused face of your friend and a gas can in his hand. “Am I interrupting something or do you still need rescuing?”

You and JJ exchanged a look before JJ replied.

“Both.”

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brain-palace · 3 months

Text

reader: [opens bedroom window] ah fuck. there’s snow on the ground.

coriolanus snow: [splayed out in reader’s front lawn, staring woefully at the clouds, wondering if his dad ever loved him]

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brain-palace · 3 months

Text

❝friends of the web❞

plot: you have a fear of spiders, but you've made a promise to work past it. peter thinks your determination is really quite adorable. pairing: tasm!peter parker x gn!reader. cw: fluff, humor, established relationship, spiders (not graphic), reader has arachnophobia but is being so brave about it, based on the poem "ten legs, eight broken" by I, e on tiktok because it fundamentally changed the way I interact with small bugs forevermore. words: 1.2k.

a/n: I have had pretty bad arachnophobia my entire life and after reading ten legs, eight broken a while back, it convinced me to start saving little spiders I find in my house. this fic is 100% based on how that ends up going every single time. minus peter parker coming to save the day

He's careful, stomach coiled tight to control his breathing. One hand is delicately pinching a bolt with tweezers, the other holding his webshooter frighteningly still. One wrong move would trigger the suspension, and about four hours' worth of fluid refill would end up all over his research notes. He has to be slow. He lowers the tweezers another half inch.

Gently, the bolt's thread catches and he releases the breath he'd been holding. In that same moment, you shout and his tweezers slip.

It's the feeling of webs spraying him in the face that he registers first, their tendrils catching onto his glasses and eyelashes and lips. Then it's your rushed breathing, the pumping of your heart nearly beating out of your chest. He doesn't feel a tingle along his spine but your shout jolts Peter out of his spell. In an instant, he's batting away the webs and throwing himself out of his office with enough velocity to take down a wall. He's expecting scorpions, vultures, lizards, his hearing zeroing in on you, and-

-and he turns the corner and there's you, crouched on the floor, hands cupped in front of you—cocooning something. "Hey, hey, hey, whoa, whoa." Peter's eyes flit around the room, looking for the threat his senses ought to have picked up on by now, and kneels beside you. He focuses on your hands and your complete and utter lack of urgency. "What's going on?"

You glance to the side, so quick he doesn't even think you register the panic on his face, "Pete, thank God. Can you talk to this thing for me?"

You move your hand and the other breathing thing in the room becomes apparent. A spider, barely the size of a crumb, is crawling over mountains of carpet thread. It's moving quickly but in circles, clearly confounded by the terrain. Peter looks at you. He drags each syllable out as he asks, "What is happening?"

You shift and Peter shifts with you, keeping an eye on the spider, "This thing- this spider is such a jackass."

"Yeah?"

"I'm trying to get him outside and he won't go."

You've got a flier for Pilates in the Park clenched in one hand, while the other is cautiously putting a wall between the spider and the abyss under your sofa, a place where even Peter dares not go. "Why don't you just kill it?"

Clearly that was the wrong thing to say. You look horrified at him as you answer, "I can't kill him!"

"Do we- are we sure it's a him? Have you decided he's a him?"

"I made a promise to myself that I would stop killing."

"I don't think... okay, what is going on here?"

You struggle to explain and focus on the spider at the same time, "It's a resolution I made for the new year. That even though I'm terrified of these things, I won't kill them anymore because... because they're living beings just like me." Peter watches you bite your lip, a twinge of pity sewn into the divot between your furrowed brows, "So I'm putting them outside whenever I see one... if only they would stop being jackasses about it."

Peter half-laughs, half-sighs. The little spider crawling around on the ground is none the wiser to your inner peril, "This isn't just because your boyfriend is, like, 1/3 spider, is it? I won't take it personally if you hit him with a shoe."

You snort and place your flier in front of the escaping spider, watching it crawl over the word "yoga" before making a u-turn for the carpet, "Of course not, my spider overlord."

You try to scoop up the spider again but every time you lift the paper, it dives off the other side and back into the carpet. "How long does this usually take?" Peter asks. He sits back on his ass, propping up a knee to rest his arm on.

"Ten minutes at best. If I don't lose them."

"Hm. And this works for you?"

You pout up at him, scooping up the spider again and watching it fly off once more, "I usually manage to get them outside, I'll have you know."

"And the screaming?"

"I never said it was a peaceful process."

"So, let me get this straight," Peter leans into you, "you spot the spider, you grab the nearest piece of paper, you try to get the spider on the paper, and then you...?"

"Scream and run until I make it to the window."

"Why- why the screaming?"

You wince, trying not to lose the bug in the carpet, "Because I'm scared they'll touch me." Your boyfriend tickles his fingers along your arm and you shiver, swatting him with your free hand.

After another failed attempt, Peter places his hand in front of the spider's path and it crawls into his palm to get to the kitchen. Before it can cross over into tiled territory, it's forced to a sudden stop, and Peter takes advantage.

It takes him three strides to get to the living room window, yank it open, and release the spiderling into the wild.

You're standing behind him with a look of frustration on your face, even though your shoulders have finally sagged with relief, "How'd you convince him to sit in your hand like that?"

"I didn't. Sticky hands." Peter wiggles all his fingers at you, amused.

"Wh- that's it? Do they not usually listen to you or something?" You grab one of his hands and quickly realize he's using that ability on you this time. He's got you stuck in a handhold.

"I can't remember when I ever said I could talk to spiders."

"I mean, it seems like a pretty fair assumption," you grumble, trying to shake his hand away before giving in, "they put their juices in you after all."

"Why would you say that?"

"Thanks for the help, by the way. I'm still... getting used to not panicking when I see them."

Peter raises his other hand to your hair and gives you a kiss on the temple, smiling against your skin, "You are so, so, so brave."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I mean, it's pretty brave to show mercy to something you fear, right? You could've killed it or asked me to do it, but you didn't. You wanted it to live."

"It doesn't mean to scare me," you bring your intertwined hands up to your mouth and press a kiss to his knuckles, "I'd want it to take pity on me if it was the other way around."

"I think the spiders will appreciate that."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Then why do they give me such a hard time?"

"Well, you're so scared of them that you don't even realize they're just as scared of you. You gotta make 'em like you, you know?"

"Got any tips for that?"

Peter guides his free hand to your waist, rocking you side to side, "Hm. Buy them sushi. Take them to a midnight showing of Night of the Living Dead. Tell him you think his nerdy rambling after the movie is sexy..." You giggle into Peter's chest and his heart swells, "Don't laugh! It worked on me."

You tilt your head up and he steals a kiss without hesitation, making you stumble on what you say next, "How about you just come let them out for me next time, hm?"

"And if I'm not around?"

"...make me a super scientific spider catching gadget?"

Peter hooks his hands underneath your thighs and hikes you up around his waist, "I'll make you one if you refill my web fluid for me."

"You can fill me with your web fluid."

"Okay. I'm putting you in time out, freak."

taglist: @yikes-buddy @alexxavicry @theclassicvinyldragon @marina-and-the-memes

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brain-palace · 3 months

Photo

5x06 // 10x09

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brain-palace · 4 months

Text

dealbreaker

HEAVILY inspired by this post by @whinesandwhimpers

words: 500

warnings: smoking

you brush your hair out of your face, regretting your bangs at this moment as you press your back against the brick wall. you tug at your uniform, suddenly feeling constricted by your clothing.

you fan your face, glad that it's a rare cold day in the outer banks, giving you some relief. you're not usually stressed out by your server shifts, but you occasionally get a table that is so obnoxious that you have to step out for your break once they leave. thankfully, your manager is pretty understanding.

you glance over when the door bursts open, an unfamiliar man stepping into the alley. it's not too much of a surprise, the door is accessible by customers, just not used too often.

the man glances over to you as he pulls a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. “want a smoke?”

you scrunch your nose up, shaking your head no.

“suit yourself.” he says, sticking the cigarette into his mouth, pulling a lighter out next and taking the flame to the end at lighting it.

he takes a deep breath in before letting out a puff of air. “im rafe.”

“y/n.” you reply.

“nice to meet you.” his eyes flicker down to your uniform. “you work here?”

“yeah, im a server.” you say.

“that's a shame.” rafe says, taking another deep puff of his cigarette.

“why do you say that?” you question, tilting your head to the side.

“you're beautiful. a girl like you shouldn't have to be waiting tables.”

“alright, you can pay my rent then.” you joke with a roll of your eyes. you should have suspected that rafe was just another typical customer, stuck up and full of themselves.

rafe makes a face like he actually considers it, sending a puff of smoke out. you wave your hand through the air, trying to keep it away from you, not wanting to come back in with a uniform smelling of smoke.

“not a fan of smoking?” he questions.

“it's nasty.” you wrinkle your nose. your parents didn't smoke, and you never knew anyone who did frequently, so you never got used to the smell.

“is it a deal breaker for you?” rafe questions.

you scrunch your brows together. “what do you mean?”

“well-” rafe begins. “would you date someone who smokes?” he takes a step closer. “kiss someone?”

“no, i guess i wouldn't.” you shrug.

rafe immediately tosses the cigarette onto the concrete, stamping it out with his shoe. rafe takes the pack out of his pocket next, tossing it into the dumpster.

“what, are you interest?” you laugh.

“yeah, what if i am?” rafe questions.

you aren't sure what to say. he may be rich and cocky, but he's also handsome, and you can't deny feeling at least physically attracted to him.

“well…” you glance at your watch. “my shift is over in two hours.”

rafe smirks at you, nodding his head. “ill be here.”

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @rafecamerongirl @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @winterrrnight @drudyslut @drewsbabygirll @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @bejeweledreverie

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brain-palace · 4 months

Text

❁ Watermelon, Surfing & Butterflies

summary: meeting JJ & him becoming an absolute simp for you at first glance

“Alright I’m here” JJ announces as he walks into the surf shop. John B glares at him. “JJ we opened two hours ago.” The boys finally opened their surf shop they dreamed about, but we struggled with the actual working part.

JJ glances at you, who looks around the shop confused. As if,you’re not sure what you’re looking for. JJ could feel his cheeks flush just by looking at you.

You were wearing a flowy sundress, covered with tiny flowers, a bunch of brightly designed bracelets on your wrist, and dangly earrings of a shape he couldn’t make of.

Everything about seemed like you walked out of a Jane Ally—Jane Alston—Jane whatever book Kie mentioned. That didn’t stop the urge he felt to walk over to you.

“You’re right. Going to get started right now” JJ says walking towards.

“Wait really—Oh ok “ John B tells him a teasing tone in his voice.

JJ glares at John B but still continuing making his way toward you.

“You need help” His questions startles you as you been focused on trying to find what you were looking for.

“Oh um no thank you—actually yes please” JJ smiles which makes you feel at ease.

“Do you know what surf wax is. I attempted surfing the other day & I kept slipping off my board. I’ve got like five big bruises to prove it. Anyway the internet said surf wax was supposed to help with that.” You ramble.

“You live in OBX & are just surfing now?” It was rare to find someone at Outer Banks who didn’t know how to surf.It was staple there.

“Ohh i’m not from here. I just moved here. I start college here. I mean technically it’s community college. I decided if I can only attend community college then I might as well attend somewhere pretty.” JJ wouldn’t be so sure about the pretty part, but he wasn’t going to crush your fantasy.

Butterflies. Your earrings are butterflies, JJ finally noticed. JJ interrupts his starring and realizes you’re waiting on him to answer your question.

“Oh surf wax, yeah we have surf wax. “ He says, directing you towards the section where it’s located. He points out all the different scents before you finally decide on watermelon.

You were about to leave the store, thanking JJ for his help before JJ blurted, “You know, if you're still struggling with surfing we offer lessons.” They don’t, that wasn’t a thing.

“Really?” You ask hopeful. Any help you could get would mean so much.

“Of course, just stop by any time & Ill teach you” JJ knew how much of a fool he was making of himself, how desperate he looked but he couldn’t stop the words from coming out.

You let out a smile. A genuine smile, one that instantly causes JJ to make it his life mission to have you smiling all the time.

Once you leave the shop, JJ turns around to find John B & Sarah watching.

“Shut up. Shut up. Shut up” JJ mutters but is ignored by John B mocking him.“Oh I’ll teach you”

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brain-palace · 4 months

Text

Assigned Seat (JJ Maybank x Reader)

Word count: 2.8K

Summary: JJ won’t sit in the correct seat because it’s not next to you

Tags: fluff, mutual crushes, lots of flirting, JJ being cute, slightly oblivious reader, getting together, everyone ships, just cute fun fr

A/N: binged obx and this is my first fic for it and of course I had to write for JJ- he’s my fave. also, it’s s2 when school starts but let’s say they know that john b is alive before the first day of class bc I don’t want this to be angsty lol

cross-posted to ao3 • obx masterlist • writing masterlist

First day back in your first class of the day—Mr. Sunn’s history class—and you were greeted with a seating chart. Usually, you would just sit with your friends, but now you saw that Pope and Kiara weren’t in the same row like they usually would’ve been when you all shared a class. You didn’t even see JJ at all yet. You wondered if he’d show up. It was the one class that you actually had with him, so you hoped he would. Otherwise you wouldn’t see him until lunch break.

You found your seat with ease, but gave Kie a light frown when she turned around and saw you weren’t anywhere close to her or Pope.

About a minute before class was about to start, JJ walked through the door. He spotted you and grinned. He headed for the empty seat beside you and dropped down in it.

“Hey,” JJ greeted. “I was almost late but here I am.”

You laughed a little (mostly because of how proud he sounded). “Yeah, I see that.”

“So, what’s up?” he asked, side eyeing Kie and Pope. “Are we avoiding them for some reason or…?”

“What? No,” you replied quickly. “Appreciate that you were instantly on my side, though,” you said with an amused tone.

JJ smiled at the comment. “I appreciate the appreciation.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled back nonetheless.

“If you two are done flirting, perhaps Mr. Maybank could move to his correct seat and we can get class started,” Mr. Sunn called out suddenly. You and JJ both were startled, realizing he was talking to you

JJ furrowed his brows. “Correct seat?” he whispered. “What is he talking about?”

“There’s a seating chart,” you muttered back, finally remembering.

“What?” JJ asked a little louder. “That’s lame,” he grumbled.

“Well, tough,” Mr. Sunn replied, clearly having heard. “And according to my lame seating chart, you’re on the other side of the room.”

“It’s an empty seat,” JJ pointed out.

“Actually, it’s Mr. Kane’s seat,” Mr. Sunn gestured towards a boy standing near you guys that you embarrassingly enough just now noticed.

“Well, great, he can have my seat,” JJ suggested with that cheeky smile of his.

Mr. Sunn looked from JJ to you. “You must be something special, Ms. Y/L/N. I’ve never had someone fight so hard to keep a seat.”

All you could do was laugh awkwardly, very aware of all the eyes on you. You gave JJ a look, asking for him to save you from being the center of attention on the first day. The only way he could was by relenting.

With a sigh that you would deem dramatic, JJ stood and grabbed his backpack. Mr. Sunn held up the seating chart paper. Everyone watched as he went to the front of the class and glanced at the paper, and then found his actual seat on the opposite side of the room.

“You can see your girlfriend after class,” Mr. Sunn commented in response to your friend losing the argument.

You weren’t his girlfriend, but neither you or JJ corrected him. You didn’t because frankly, you’d gotten your fill of attention. You weren’t sure why JJ didn’t, though.

Besides, you weren’t totally against people thinking that. It was still weird having a teacher call you out like that, though.

The kid who had been waiting for JJ to vacate his seat gave you an apologetic look before turning his attention to pulling out a notebook.

You made eye contact with JJ across the classroom and he winked.

“Now that everyone is in their correct seat,” Mr. Sunn announced. “We can get started with class.”

Everyone turned to focus on Mr. Sunn going over the first day syllabus, except for Kie. You caught her looking at you and you met her eyes. She raised her brows as if to ask, “what was that?”

You shrugged, telling her that you didn’t know. It was true, you didn’t.

After class, no one brought it up so you didn’t say anything about it either. You all went about your day and soon, the whole seat incident left your mind.

The next day you were reminded of it.

You arrived to history with Pope, chatting about the syllabus and what supplies you still needed to get. Kie was already in class. You said hi and then bye and headed to your seat. JJ was the last to show up, cutting it close again. You gave him a small wave, assuming you weren’t going to get to talk to him until after class.

Except, he walked right up to you and sat down next to you.

You raised your brows at him. “What are you doing?”

“Well, hello to you too,” JJ acknowledged with a light chuckle.

“He’s gonna tell you to move again,” you predicted.

JJ shrugged it off. “Like some seating chart is gonna keep me away from my favorite girl,” he retorted in a playful tone.

You smiled, ready to go along with his flirting. “Favorite, huh?”

He put his elbow on his desk and leaned on his hand. “What, you didn’t know that? I coulda swore I made it obvious.”

You hummed, ready to hit back with a sly comment. Until you were interrupted.

“Is this going to become a daily occurrence?” Mr. Sunn’s voice tore you and JJ away from the gaze you held. You both looked to the front of the class, where he stood watching you two. “I believe you know your correct seat, Mr. Maybank.”

“I forgot, actually,” JJ lied easily. “I’m pretty comfortable here, though.”

Mr. Sunn rolled his eyes and held back any indication that he found the situation as funny as you did. “I can’t have my students revolting,” he decided. He pointed to JJ’s assigned seat, waiting for him to move.

“It’s only 45 minutes, JJ,” you told him. “I think you can survive.”

“Fine, fine,” he told you and Mr. Sunn. He got up and moved to his seat. The boy that sat next to you came out of nowhere and took the seat.

After class, you met up with your friends. You were about to walk with JJ to the hall where both your next classes were, but Kie decided something different.

“I gotta go to the bathroom,” she announced. “Y/N- come with me?”

Except you didn’t really feel like she was asking.

“Um, sure,” you agreed and headed off with her in the other direction of the boys.

“Why do girls always do that?” JJ wondered, watching as the two of you turned a corner.

“Girls just do that,” Pope explained. “This time they’re going to talk about you, dude. For sure.”

“About me?” JJ furrowed his brows. “What about me?”

“About how you like Y/N and that it’s totally obvious now. To everyone.”

JJ just shrugged. He thought everyone already knew. The only person he really wanted to know was you, but you never seemed to think he was serious. You always flirted back and that was fun, but maybe he had to up his game.

Oddly, no one brought up the seat incident yet again as a group. Kiara and Pope did observe you and JJ closer, but even if the flirting was a little more obvious, it didn’t go beyond that.

Next day in history, it was a repeat of the previous days.

“I’m starting to think you like me,” you joked to JJ when he sat down beside you.

“It took you this long?” he responded teasingly. You tried to not read into it, not wanting to get your hopes up. Not realizing that he was hoping you would read into it.

Mr. Sunn looked up from his desk when the bell for class to start rang. Immediately, as if in a force of habit, his eyes landed on you and JJ. Once again he would have to start the class period by telling JJ to move.

“You must have amnesia,” Mr. Sunn directed towards JJ. Everyone knew that, he didn’t have to say his name.

You and JJ exchanged a look and a small laugh. You’d gotten over any level of embarrassment that came from people chuckling and eyeing you and JJ.

“Can’t you just make an exception?” JJ asked. He was bargaining but didn’t have anything to offer.

Kie threw a smirk over her shoulder at you, but you avoided eye contact.

Yesterday she had spent the “bathroom” trip convincing you that JJ really did like you—as more than just a friend. She knew you liked him, but also knew you were avoiding telling JJ. You didn’t want to mess with your friendship by making what you had always assumed was just friendly banter into something awkward and feeling like an idiot for thinking it was some kind of signal if it wasn’t.

If she hadn’t sworn to JJ that she wouldn’t tell you how he felt, she would have cleared it up yesterday. But of course you didn’t know that.

Mr. Sunn’s lips pulled into a tight line. You couldn’t tell if he was genuinely annoyed or amused. “If you’re next to her, how can I expect you to pay attention in class?”

At that, the whole class chuckled. Even you. At least Mr. Sunn had a good sense of humor.

JJ blushed a little at that. You hadn’t seen him flustered like this in… well, it had been a long time. He couldn’t think of a comeback as quickly as he usually did. Too many seconds passed for him to recover, so he had no choice.

JJ grabbed his backpack. “I’ll see you after class,” he promised.

“You always do,” you replied just loud enough for him to hear as he stood. He shot you a smile before walking over to his assigned seat.

Class moved slowly, although at least the subject was mildly interesting compared to your other ones this semester.

When the bell rang, you waited for your friends and you all walked out of class together.

“JJ, are you trying to get in trouble?” Pope asked, almost accusingly.

JJ scoffed out a laugh. “Don’t be dramatic, I’m not gonna get in trouble over a seat.”

“Interesting that you keep going for a seat that’s right next to Y/N,” Kiara mused in a knowing tone.

“Whatever you’re thinking, stop,” you told her, but not in a serious way. You and JJ flirted but you didn’t want him to feel uncomfortable by her comments, implying that there was more.

Turns out it was the opposite. You didn’t see the way JJ looked at you. You were focused on the eye roll Kie gave before saying bye and heading to her next class. Pope followed suit, leaving you and JJ to walk to your next classes together.

“Y’know, if Kie wants to think… that,” JJ started, referencing her very obvious implication. “Or if anyone else does… I wouldn’t mind.”

You stared up at him, a bit taken aback. You and JJ had always been close and flirted, and even though you had a crush on him and all your friends were convinced he had a crush on you, neither of you brought it up or confronted it. JJ was taking the first step.

“I wouldn’t mind either,” you admitted, smiling lightly.

JJ looked surprised, then relieved. “Really?”

You only let out a small laugh, “I’ll see you later,” you told him. You were about to walk to your class further down the hall, but stuck around for a moment longer. “Tomorrow, just sit in your seat,” you suggested. “Mr. Sunn is a chill guy but it’s gonna be a long year if we start off annoying him.”

“We’re not annoying,” JJ faked offense. “But yeah, alright,” he relented. “I guess I’ll just have to stare longing across the class,” he teased.

Your smile grew. “Yeah, I guess so,” you replied smoothly. Then, you walked away towards your class.

“We’re still meeting up with Pope and Kie later, right?” JJ called after you.

“Yeah,” you called back, not looking over your shoulder.

You hung out with your friends later and gone about your day. You and JJ of course flirted, but nothing more than usual. Pope didn’t bring it up again and Kiara just shot you knowing smirks.

Next day in Mr. Sunn’s class, much to your surprise, when JJ walked into class he gave you a light wave and continued on to his assigned seat. He was following your advice, which was a hard thing to get JJ to do. You looked over and realized he was standing near where his seat was.

And that someone was already in it.

The guy who was supposed to sit by you was in JJ’s seat. Meaning there was an empty seat right beside you.

JJ looked over his shoulder at you and grinned. He waltzed over, suddenly in a much better mood.

“Is this seat taken?” he asked you cheekily.

You looked past him to see the guy in JJ’s seat. He gave you a shrug and a look that said, “you’re welcome.” You almost laughed.

“I guess not,” you answered JJ, looking back at him with a smile of your own.

He sat down in the seat, victorious.

Mr. Sunn walked in when class started and went to the board.

“I see my words mean nothing to you, Mr. Maybank,” Mr. Sunn said, spotting JJ.

A smirk crossed your friend's face. “Actually,” he started, perking up. “My seat was taken.”

Mr. Sunn looked at JJ's actual seat and sighed. The kid looked a little guilty but didn’t say anything. He looked back at JJ. “Fine, you win,” he decided. Then, he began to write on the board.

After class, you and JJ parted from Kie and Pope to walk together to your next class.

“I can’t believe he finally gave in,” you said with a laugh.

“I can be persuasive,” JJ replied smoothly.

You let out another laugh. “That was not persuasive. That was…I don’t know what that was,” you admitted.

“Fine, but I got what I wanted,” JJ revealed. It was no surprise, but there was something underlying in his tone.

“Hey, I’m not complaining,” you held your hands up in surrender. The two of you stopped outside of your class and faced one another.

A small smile tugged at his lips. “I would hope not.”

“I’ll see you later,” you told him. “Don’t miss me too much,” you decided to add on.

“Oh, baby, I always do,” he played along casually.

Your face felt warm at the nickname, but you didn’t say anything more. When you all hung out later, the interaction played through your mind.

You were too distracted to realize JJ was staring at you all night—or at least that’s what Kie had told you later.

The next day in Mr. Sunn’s class, JJ was there before you. You couldn’t remember the last time he was ever in a class before you. You walked to your seat and he smiled up at you.

“Hi there,” you greeted, sitting down beside JJ. “For once you actually came to class early,” you pointed out.

“Well, I had a reason to,” JJ replied with a smile. “I wanted to ask you something.”

You chuckled, thinking of a joke. “Do you need an alibi?”

“Ha ha,” he said sarcastically. “I’m serious though.” Your expression turned confused. “Not like, serious serious. Don’t look so worried.”

“Alright, what is it?”

“After school today would you wanna hang out? Just me and you?” JJ asked with a hint of nervousness.

“We hang out all the time,” you started knowingly. “So if you’re asking…” you mused, suppressing a smile (you were having a hard time with that, though). “Is this you asking me on a date, JJ?”

“Maybe,” JJ said with a tad of nervousness. “Would you want to?”

“Yeah,” you answered without hesitation. You could’ve held out longer and maybe messed with a little, but you decided against that.

JJ looked pleasantly surprised. “Really?”

In your head, you were beaming with excitement. Out loud you confirmed, “it’s a date.”

“Don’t let me interrupt,” Mr. Sunn called to you and JJ, interrupting. “But since it seems important, I’m sure you wouldn’t mind sharing with the class.”

“Well, I’ve got a date later, so that’s pretty great,” JJ practically bragged, not missing a beat. “As for how that goes, I don’t kiss and tell.”

JJ shot you a wink after that, Kie and Pope looked over their shoulders so fast you thought their heads were gonna spin, and Mr. Sunn actually looked impressed.

“About time,” someone in the class spoke up. It was an unfamiliar voice. When you located the source, you found it was the boy in JJ’s old seat.

And what did you do? Well, all you could do was let out a laugh and share a smile with JJ.

You had a feeling this class was going to be much more fun now—although, maybe not as much fun as your date with JJ.

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brain-palace · 4 months

Text

It Burns For You

𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: ɪɴ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏʀʏᴏ ɢʀᴏᴡ ᴜᴘ ᴛᴏɢᴇᴛʜᴇʀ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀᴘɪᴛᴏʟ ᴀɴᴅ ᴏɴᴇ ᴅᴀʏ ᴄʀᴏꜱꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪɴᴇꜱ ʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅꜱ

𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: ɴᴏɴᴇ, ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ. ᴏᴏᴄ ᴄᴏʀʏᴏ, ʜᴇ'ꜱ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴛᴏᴛᴀʟʟʏ ʜᴇᴀᴅ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ʜᴇᴇʟꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ. ᴄʜᴇᴄᴋ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴍʏ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ!

ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴡᴏ

Coriolanus is 12 when he sees you for the first time. Your red uniform is pressed perfectly and your school bag looks brand new. Your lunch consisted of a hearty-looking sandwich with roast beef and lettuce and a container of fresh fruit that had his mouth-watering.

"Do you want a piece? Our maid always packs too much and I can never finish it. You can have some if you want." Your voice fills his ears

A delicate-looking hand is holding a juicy-looking strawberry in front of him. He reaches for it and it takes every ounce of self-control he has not to shove it in his mouth. Instead, he takes a small bite and thanks you for sharing.

"Don't you have a lunch today?" You ask

He doesn't. The school had said they would start supplying the students with lunches soon but how soon? Coriolanus had already been attending for a number of years and still nothing.

"I already ate it." He lied

"You're still hungry though. You can have the rest." You say with a smile as you push your fruit bowl to him.

"Is it your first day?" He asks

"Yes, my mother thought that my governess wasn't doing a good job so she had my father enroll me here. I miss being at home with my new kitten though. She has long white hair and she is the cutest thing in the whole world." You said

Coriolanus can't believe that you had your own governess, let alone a pet to call your own. He later learns from Arachne that your father became incredibly rich by manufacturing weaponry for the Capitol. Despite your inherent wealth, you've never flashed it around him.

You and Coriolanus are 15 when you discover all the lies he tells at school about his family. He had left his uniform jacket behind on his chair and you got his home address from Sejanus, meaning to give it back so he'd have it for tomorrow. Instead, you had discovered the Snow's decrepit-looking building and barely functioning penthouse. Coriolanus' heart nearly stops when he emerges from his room to see you and his Grandma'am sitting together as she compliments your shoes.

"What are you doing here?" He asks, ready for your judgment and teasing words

"I wanted to return your jacket, Coryo. You'll need it for tomorrow."

The red of the jacket in your arms matches his face as he ushers you to the door, trying to hide the fact that Tigris was preparing cabbage in the kitchen that would undoubtedly stink the entire place up with the scent of the Snow's poverty.

"Stop rushing me, your cousin invited me to stay for dinner." You say trying to stop the way he is leading you to the door.

"You don't want what she is making. Tigris is a terrible cook." He said

Tigris lets out a shout of disagreement from the stove and Coriolanus ignores it.

"How about, I go out and get something to add to the meal Tigris is cooking, and by the time I get back you change your attitude about me staying for dinner Coryo. "

And with that, you walk out the door and slam it in his face. He's rather stunned at your declaration but knows you're serious. He rushes around their home, trying to clean up what he can while Tigris laughs at his frantic motions. Then, just as he was debating whether or not he wanted to change out of his uniform, you return from your short trip to the closest market.

"I wasn't sure what Tigris is cooking so I got a couple of things." You say placing the bags on the table.

Coriolanus is sure you spent a fortune on what is in these bags. Fresh bread accompanied by a sickly sweet fruit spread and a block of butter sits in one while the other holds something else in a brown box. You take your seat next to him at the ugly little table he has eaten too many meals at and cut a piece of the bread for Grandma'am. He is worried when Tigris starts portioning out the cabbage she cooked on the stove. Coriolanus watches your expression as you take a bite but nothing that he expected happens. You don't knit your brows in disgust or get up to leave and take your fresh bread and mysterious box with you. Instead, you go back for a second bite and compliment what Tigris has done with the food.

He sits stiffly next to you and can barely accept the slice of bread you offer him. You excuse yourself to use the bathroom and Tigris reaches across the table and pinches his shoulder.

"Stop sitting like that, Coryo!" She scolds

"Like what?" He asks,aware that Tigris meant how oddly straight his back was.

"You're making her uncomfortable. You've been friends with her for years she isn't worried about what our home looks like." Tigris says

"She might not be but what happens when she goes to school tomorrow and talks?" He asks

He shuts up when he hears the sound of the bathroom door opening again.

"That was lovely Tigris. I've never had anything like it, I'll have to invite you all to my own home for dinner sometime. Our cook makes these pastries that are simply wonderful. They even get sold at local markets, which leads to this..."

His eyes widen when you finally unveil what was hiding in that second bag. A dozen expensive looking deserts sit in the brown box you brought, each one decorated differently.

"I hope I picked something everyone would like. I know Coryo mentioned that Grandma'am liked chocolate so I picked this one just for her."

Coriolanus feels a wide smile stretch across his face as you pass out your little desserts. His worries about you gossiping to their peers fade from view as he bites into what he thinks is a croissant. You laugh at his reaction and toss a napkin at his face which is most likely covered in the gooey fruit filling that was in his pastry.

He walks you back to your home that night and thanks you for making his night. He can't remember the last time Grandma'am had smiled from eating chocolate. You accept his thanks and gently tell him that he shouldn't be ashamed about his financial situation. He never gets to disagree with you though because a soft kiss is pressed to his lips followed by a rushed,

"Goodnight, Coryo! Thanks for the cabbage!"

He walks back to his own home with a jump in his step. Thoughts of you consume him as he smiles to himself, proud his first kiss was shared with you. He feels his heart burn with something that felt like it was going to come up and out his mouth as he finally made it back to his room, you officially had him wrapped around your finger.

Your room is flooded with sunlight the first time Coriolanus sees it. A soft, silky-looking bed spread sits atop one of the biggest beds he has seen as you beckon to your cat, Maisy to come and say hello to him. He looks at the oversized wooden dresser that sits against one wall. He sees the photograph of him and you that was taken a few weeks ago at your 17th birthday party nestled among little knickknacks. Books Coriolanus has never even heard of line your shelves as he you place a record on the player that sits on your desk. Soft sounds of a piano and the words from an unnamed singer fill your gorgeous room as he turns to you.

"Do you want to dance?" He finds himself asking

You accept and he leads you or well tries to. You're rather stiff and it turns out dancing is harder than it looks because he isn't any good at it either. You laugh as he trips over his feet and end up falling with him, landing on the ground entangled in each other. Your fingers brush his curls from his eyes as his nose brushes yours.

"What're you doing?" You ask quietly

"Nothing." He responds, his eyes flicking to your lips.

The moment his lips touch yours, a tingle shoots down his spine. This is a real kiss, not what you gave him when you were both 15. He cups your face and your hands are tangled in his hair as he deepens it. He felt his head spin as you moved against him, almost as if you wanted him to swallow you whole right here on your bedroom floor. A giddy feeling swelled in his chest when he pulled away for air.

"Coryo...what was that?" You ask

"I thought you'd know by now. That was a kiss, darling." He laughed brushing his thumb across your lip

"I know that...but why'd you give me one?" You ask

"Don't you know?" He smiles and places a chaste kiss on your lips "My heart, it burns for you, it always has."

Part 2 is out now!

Part 3 is out now!

8K notes · View notes

brain-palace · 4 months

Text

is it casual now?

Prompt: You and Eddie totally aren't dating, right?

Characters: Eddie Munson x Reader, brief mentions of Steve Harrington x Reader.

Word Count: ~5.5k

Author’s Note: Happy birthday @felteppsters

Playlist: Casual by Chappell Roan

Warnings: Smut & fluff.

If you had a dollar for every time someone asked if you and The Freak were dating, you'd have made four dollars this week alone.

And it's only Tuesday.

You didn't go out of your way to spend time with Eddie Munson, and he never once asked if you wanted to hang out outside of school, but somehow you always managed to find yourself getting fingered in the back of his van in the parking lot during study hall. And he was known to drop a note in your locker on occasion asking you to meet him in that one bathroom that no one ever used for a quickie during lunch.

But that was neither here nor there.

The point was that people were beginning to notice.

It wasn't a bad thing. It's not like dating Eddie would ruin your reputation- despite what some people would say. It was just that when people asked if you and Eddie were dating, you didn't know how to answer because you, yourself, were not exactly sure what that answer was.

So you just said no, and you probably said it a little too defensively.

Does hooking up occasionally count as dating? No. In order to be dating someone you had to at least go out on an actual date, right? The night he took you to his trailer to 'fuck you in a real bed' and ordered pizza delivery didn't count, either, no matter how long you cuddled with him afterwards.

"I heard a rumor," it was Robin. She fell in step with you as you both exited fourth-period Algebra and headed toward the cafeteria. "And I just need a little bit of clarification, so forgive me if what I'm about to ask is-"

"I swear to God, Robin, if you're about to ask me if I'm dating Eddie Munson," you held up your hand and cut her off, stopping short in the middle of the hallway; your boots scuffing the speckled white tile floor, causing a slight traffic jam of bodies.

"What!?" She gasped. Either she was a really great actress or she genuinely hadn't heard. "There's a rumor going around that you're dating Eddie Munson?"

"No?" you deflected and picked up the pace. "What did you hear?"

"That you're dating Eddie Munson." With that, your face fell and she pulled her lips between her teeth to keep herself from laughing. "Well, is it true? Because Maria Fuentes heard from Charlie Dawson that Tina saw you guys in the parking lot last Friday and she did not hold back on the details."

"First of all," you said stopping at your locker. "I feel violated."

"Well, you were, you know-" Robin held up her fingers and made a lewd gesture causing you to cringe.

"Second of all-" You began again, only to be cut off by a folded piece of paper falling from your locker to the floor as you opened the flimsy, metal door. You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks as Robin quickly bent down and snatched the note from under you before you had the chance.

"You were saying?" She asked, a playful smirk pulling at her lips as she dodged every one of your attempts to take the note back from her. "Meet me. You know where. Signed, E.M." She read aloud. "Oh, look, there's even a little heart. That is so cute!"

"Second of all," you repeated after you had snatched the crumpled paper from her hands. "We are not dating."

Eddie's lips were on yours the moment the bathroom door closed behind you; before you were even able to flip the lock. You hadn't seen him since last Friday, and you could easily tell that he had gotten needy over the weekend. You wanted to enjoy the moment, but all that you could think about was this rumor.

He took a few steps forwards, pushing you back to the double sink until you were sitting on the counter; pushing himself between your legs, his hands falling to your sides, fingertips digging into your flesh. His lips were everywhere, biting and sucking hungrily as he squeezed every inch of your body he could get his hands on.

You placed your palm firmly on his chest and lightly pushed him away from you. He took a step back and you took in his appearance; tight denim jeans, a flannel wrapped around his hips, t-shirt just slightly messy enough to reveal a scruffy happy trail below his navel. His jeans were especially tight in the crotch, and his eyes were dark with desperation as he returned your gaze. He ducked his head to meet your lips once again, but you turned your head and ensured his lips fell to your cheek instead.

"Something's definitely up with you," he said softly as he placed another kiss on your temple.

He looked so good and made you feel so good, you just wanted to pull him back down to you and fuck him in this bathroom for the umpteenth time, but you couldn't. He stepped back and pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his back pocket; looking so cool as he placed one between his lips and took a long drag, sending smoke billowing around the tiny room.

"You haven't heard?" You asked. He shrugged. "Someone saw us Friday in your van and now the entire school thinks we're dating."

"Oh," he let our a sarcastic chuckle. "And that's a problem for you, I guess? Can't be seen with the freak, right?"

"No," you rolled your eyes at the fact that he would even suggest that. "I just didn't know if- are we?"

He shrugs again, shoving his hands into his pockets. "I thought it was just casual."

"Casual?" You ask, and he nods. "Okay, well, I have to go. My next class is all the way on the other side of the building and I don't want to be late."

He can tell by your tone that you're upset.

"What do you want me to say?" He asks, making one last attempt to make you stay as you pick up your book bag from the floor.

"Nothing."

"You're pissed," he actually reached for you this time, but you shrugged him off.

"No," you replied. "I'm just-" you paused for a moment looking for the right words. "I'm casual." He winced. "Have a good day, Eddie."

You wanted to slam the door in his face, but it wasn't that type of door, so you opted for storming off loudly. As you rounded the corner you knocked shoulders with some girl from the Cheerleading squad who yelled at you to watch where you were going, but you didn't care to respond. Your legs were carrying you as quickly as they could without breaking into a full sprint down the halls of Hawkins High.

It wasn't a lie when you stated that your next class was on the other side of the school. You were sweating by the time you reached your desk. Robin had gotten there first, slumped back in her assigned seat with a smirk on her face as you sat down, trying to catch your breath.

"Long commute?" She asked, her voice laced with sarcasm.

"Shut the hell up, Buckley." You snapped.

"Uh oh," she held her hands up in defense. "Must be some trouble in paradise."

"I told you earlier, Eddie and I are not dating."

"Roger that."

The last bell couldn't come soon enough. All that you wanted to do was get home and get into bed- and preferably cry into a bowl of ice cream. You'd have never imagined yourself crying over the likes of Eddie Munson, but the thought of losing whatever it was that you had with him was upsetting.

He was your friend, after all. You had a lot in common with him. He could make you laugh and there was no shortage of conversation when you were around him. He was always getting shit from his friends, but you loved the fact that he never shut the hell up. And when there wasn't a conversation to be had, there was always music; whether it was his long list of cassette tapes or him strumming away on his guitar, there was never a dull moment.

And here you were ruining it over a label.

Robin held the door open for you as you both stepped out into the warm summer weather. Waves of students began lining up in the parking lot for their respective busses, but you typically walked home when the weather was nice.

"So since you're not dating Eddie Munson," Robin began and you couldn't help but roll your eyes so hard that it almost gave you a headache. "I was wondering if you might want to go on a double date with Vickie and myself?"

"A double date typically involves two couples."

"Right, you're absolutely right." Robin was stuttering. "I have this friend and he is also single. Problem solved."

"Steve?"

"Yeah."

"No."

"Wh- Why?"

"Because I have nothing in common with Steve and Steve is a prick," you replied bluntly.

Robin rolled her eyes. "He's actually not, like, at all. Besides, I talk about you all the time to him and he said that he would really like to meet you."

"He must have forgotten that he spent the majority of my freshman and sophomore year bullying me with Tommy H and Carole," you muttered under your breath.

Your friend reached out and grabbed you by the shoulder, stopping you in place and spinning you around to face her. A sigh escaped your lips as you looked her in the eye.

"That was a long time ago. I wasn't a huge fan of him when I first met him, either." She gave you a lopsided smile and you found her attempts to win her friend a date with you amusing. "I promise you that it's worth a shot. So, if you change your mind, we're going roller skating on Saturday night."

"You rollerskating?" You laughed and heard a car honk a few times as it pulled up.

"You're so funny!" She stated sarcastically.

Steve gave you a derpy smile as he rolled the passenger side window down. He was wearing his Family Video vest. "Good afternoon, ladies." He called out smoothly, you returned with a small wave.

"Sleep on it?" Robin asked as she opened the door to Steve's car.

"Fine," you rolled your eyes. "I'll think about it."

Robin smiled as she ducked into the passenger seat and closed the door behind her. "I'll see you tomorrow!"

Saturday came sooner than expected, and you had to admit that you were nervous. If someone had told you a year ago that you'd be going on a date with Steve Harrington, you'd probably punch them in the throat. Hell, if someone told you that a week ago, you'd still be swinging.

You had avoided Eddie at all costs throughout the rest of the week. Though, you'd be lying if you said that you weren't a little disappointed there were no notes left in your locker, or that he didn't find some way to talk to you after you left him standing in that bathroom Tuesday afternoon. You even waited up some nights hoping for a phone call or a pebble on the window, but none came.

It took over an hour and half to pick an outfit. Almost every article of clothing you owned was crumpled on the floor or tossed on the bed as you tried on a dozen different outfit combinations. It was the roller rink, so you wanted to be comfortable, but it was technically a date, so you also wanted to at least seem like you tried. Finally, as the clock ticked closer to seven, you decided on jeans, an off-shoulder top, and your Converse. You really didn't care to impress Steve Harrington; you didn't care in freshman and sophomore year and you certainly didn't now.

"I thought you said you had a date," your mother mentioned as you stepped into the living room. She was on the couch watching Who's The Boss, a jar of mixed nuts in her lap.

"I am," you replied as you shrugged into your denim jacket. She looked you up and down and you rolled your eyes. "We're going rollerskating; comfort was the priority!"

The distant sound of a car horn honking interrupted the conversation, prompting you to glance out the front door. Steve, acting as the evening's chauffeur, awaited with Robin and Vickie in the backseat.

"Don't be out too late," your mother muttered between mouthfuls of peanuts. "But enjoy yourself."

As the heavy glass door swung open, a wave of familiar sounds and vibrant colors enveloped your senses. The Rollerdome was typically busy on a Saturday night, but tonight it seemed everyone in Hawkins had the same idea to go skating. The neon lights that adorned the rink's interior created a kaleidoscope of vivid hues; fluorescent pinks, electric blues, and neon greens adorned the walls, blending with the glow of disco balls suspended from the ceiling. Upbeat pop music and the thud of roller skates on the smooth, wooden floors flooded your ears as Robin and Steve bickered over which table to claim for the evening.

"I vote this one," Robin declared with unwavering confidence, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "That way, we've got front-row seats to all the wipeouts!"

"That is the exact reason why no one sits at this table, Robin," Steve countered with exasperation. "Everyone knows that the floor is slick there and when someone takes a spill, it's usually right into the table." He pauses before looking at you. "Bye-bye chili dogs."

You can't help but suppress a small smile, "I think it's perfect. If there's a chance one of those uppity assholes comes flying face first into our table, it'll be the highlight of my entire year."

"Can't argue with that logic," Steve added quickly. "Good choice, Robin."

She rolled her eyes and dragged Vickie off towards the rental counter. You casually tossed your bag on the top of the table; a clear marker that it was claimed. Steve removed his jacket and placed it next to your bag before running a hand through his thick, dark hair. It was clear that he was nervous as his eyes darted around the roller rink. He definitely didn't give off the same 'King Steve' aura that you remembered so well.

Maybe you'd give him a chance.

Just kidding.

You turned on your heel and walked off towards the snack bar, drawn in by the delicious aroma of extra cheese pizza and buttered popcorn, leaving Steve scrambling to catch up with your determined stride. Robin wanted a pretzel and a Coke slushy while Vickie had asked for cheese fries and an orange soda. You wanted nachos but agreed when Steve ordered to split a pizza, doing his best to impress you as he paid for everyone, but instead, all he got out of you was a slight eye roll. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Vickie lead a wobbly Robin out onto the rink. A chuckle escaped your lips as you witnessed their valiant attempts to navigate the rink without falling prey to the more seasoned skaters.

"So what are you into?" Steve asked as he filled up his drink at the fountain machine. "What do you like?"

"Uh," you weren't really sure what to say. You still couldn't really get past the fact that Steve Harrington was trying to have a conversation with you. "I like music."

"Yeah?" He asked. "I like music."

"Cool."

"This is a good song," he replied and pointed awkwardly to the overhead speakers while Another One Bites The Dust by Queen played loudly.

You couldn't help but think of the irony and did your best to suppress a laugh before Steve got the impression that you thought he was funny. Oh, how this date was failing epically; which you were already anticipating, so at least you hadn't gotten your hopes up about it. Steve was almost trying too hard to force a spark between the two of you, but without Robin around- which was often because she was too busy flailing about on her skates while Vickie tried her hardest to keep her from falling- it was absolutely boring.

At least the two of them seemed to be having a good time.

As the night continued on, you found yourself gradually shedding the initial reserve that had clung to you like a second skin. The pulsating rhythm of the music, the laughter of your friends, and the infectious joy of gliding across the smooth floor started to work its magic. A genuine smile tugged at the corners of your lips as Steve, Vickie, and Robin circled the rink alongside you, sharing jokes and banter.

"I need something to drink!" You yelled over the music at your friends before carefully exiting the floor onto the carpet.

Steve exited with you, gliding up to the table with ease; moving around you to the music, dancing on his skates. The hesitant glances you'd given him earlier transformed into playful exchanges, and you couldn't help but admit that his efforts to charm you had slowly but surely begun to work.

As Robin and Vickie continued to skate around the rink, something caught your eyes in the corner; a familiar, curly head of brown hair in the back towards the arcade. He was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, his brown eyes pinned to you as his friends huddled around one of the pinball machines.

You smirked softly as the music changed. In the background you could hear Steve talking, but you were too busy having a staring contest with Eddie from across the room.

"So what d'ya say?" Steve asked.

"What?" You asked, reluctantly tearing your eyes away from Eddie.

"It's a slow song," he mentioned. You could see a blush creeping to his cheeks. "Did you want to couple's skate?"

You agreed, allowing Steve to take your hand and lead you out onto the rink. It was wrong of you to use Steve in the way that you were, especially since you were just starting to like him. But the satisfaction that you felt seeing Eddie roll his eyes as you and your date skated by was too good to pass up. And yes, you faked the giggles and latched on to Steve's arm a little more with each time you passed Eddie, really twisting that knife as much as you could.

But hey, it was just "casual" right?

As the song came to a close and Steve led you by the hand back to your table. You couldn't help yourself but to glance back to the corner of the rink towards the arcade, only to see Eddie push himself off of the wall and stomp off towards the exit.

"I'll be right back," you called over to Steve as the song ended. "I need to get some fresh air."

"I'll come with!" Steve offered but you placed a hand on his arm to stop him before he could unlace his skates.

"I'll be okay," you assured him with a sweet smile. "I'll be right back."

Hurriedly, you unlaced your skates and shoved your feet into your worn-down tennis shoes before chasing after Eddie. The summer air was still very humid as you stepped out of the cool air conditioning and into the parking lot. The sunset was barely lingering on the horizon and the sky was a mixture of periwinkle and orange. To your right, you could see Eddie walking away from you and towards his van.

"Hey!" You called to him. He turned around to see it was you and threw his head back dramatically before turning back to his van. "What is your problem?"

"Steve Harrington, really?" He spat, turning to you once again.

"Oh, come off it!" You replied, closing the gap between you. "Jealousy does not suit you, babe."

"Steve fucking Harrington?" He asked again. "I mean what do you even talk about with that guy? Different variations of the color beige?"

"At least he can stand to be seen with me in public!"

You were standing toe-to-toe with him now, chests heaving. His eyes squinted as he stared down at you.

"You want to be seen in public?" He asked. "Careful what you ask for, princess."

Before you could protest, his hands were on your shoulders, maneuvering you to his van; walking you backward until your back was pressed up against the side door. "Hopefully Harrington will wander out here looking for you." He reached a hand behind you, swinging the door open, and pushed you in. "He gives me the impression of someone who likes to watch."

Eddie crawled into the van after you, leaving the door open, not caring who saw or heard. His lips were on yours in an instant. You moaned as he ducked his head into your neck, working your nerves as he popped the button on your jeans. He didn't even care to pull them all the way off, or your shoes for that matter. As soon as he had pulled your pants down far enough to expose your pussy to him, he held your legs over his head and began thumbing your clit; spreading a slick coat of wetness along your swollen lips. He lifted you up, throwing your legs over his shoulder as his tongue hungrily delved into your core.

You gasped in surprise, hands flying to his hair, wrapping around the thick of his roots. You could hear him fumbling with his belt buckle as his tongue worked your dripping folds. Once he had freed his girthy cock, he lowered you down, still holding your legs over his shoulders with his arms now snaked around your thighs as he lined himself up with your core.

Without warning, he shoved his cock into the deepest part of you, feeling you tighten and loosen around his length. You moaned loudly, forgetting that the side door to his van was still wide open.

"Should I send you back to King Steve filled with my cum?" He grunted as he thrusted against you. "Let him hold your hand as you feel me dripping into those cute, little panties?"

Your eyes rolled back as he continued to pump into you.

"Look at you," he whimpered, so close already to finding his own release. He dragged his thumb across your bottom lip and you took his digit into you mouth. "Fuck!"

You could feel his cock pulsing against your walls as he filled you with warm ribbons of his cum. Eddie crashed on top of you, his face buried in your neck as he tried to catch his breath. Your hands moved to his shoulders, pushing him off of you with a sigh. You were already pulling your jeans up over your hips and fixing your shirt.

"What is it now?" He asked.

"It's nothing, Eddie." You replied.

"Oh, it's something."

You said nothing and stood up out of his van. Half of you wanted to just walk away and leave him there, like you had on Tuesday, but you couldn't do that again. You were miserable after the first time you did that- so miserable that you agreed to go on a date with Steve Harrington, of all people. This time you turned to him, looking him dead in the eye as you tried to find the right words.

"I'm not just some easy girl, Eddie." You spat at him. "I allowed you to fuck me in the parking lot, and in the bathroom, and in the auditorium that one time because I like you. I guess- I just thought that you liked me, too. I thought I was more than just some girl that you go down on in the passenger seat of your van, but I was wrong."

He opened his mouth to say something, but you held your hand up to stop him, wanting to get it all out.

"You just want sex," you continued. "You don't want to date me, you don't want me to be your girlfriend, you just want something casual, and I'm not that."

"What are you, then?" He asked.

"Leaving."

He said nothing as he watched you turn away, leaving him completely dumbfounded. For once, you felt like you had the upper-hand in this game the two of you had been playing for months now.

The walk from Eddie's van to the front doors of the Rollerdome felt like miles as the gravel of the pavement crackled beneath your feet with each step. You half expected him to run after you, take you in his arms, and confess his love for you, but you were met with nothing but silence. With a final glance over your shoulder, you reentered the roller rink, leaving Eddie to grapple with the unspoken complexities that lingered in the warm, Summer air.

The electric energy of the rink greeted you, once again; a stark contrast to the mood you had created in the parking lot. You didn't want to be here any longer and decided upon re-entry that you were just going to go home. Robin, Vickie, and Steve were all huddled around the table as another slow ballad played loudly through the speakers.

"There you are!" Robin greeted with a lukewarm slice of pizza in her hand. She took immediate notice of your changed demeanor and asked, "is everything okay?"

"No," you replied quickly as you grabbed your jacket. "I think I am just going to go home."

"Home?" Robin asked. "Now?" She stood up and pulled you over to the side away from Steve and Vickie. "Does this have anything to do with Eddie? I saw you running out after him earlier."

"Just forget it, Robin, okay?" You sighed as you turned towards her. You looked over her shoulder to see Steve and Vickie watching you. You lowered your voice, "It's over, okay? Yes, I'm upset about it and I hate that I'm upset about it. I wasn't expecting to actually like him."

Robin sighed, "I didn't realize it was like that, I'm sorry."

You shrug your shoulders and shove your hands in your jacket pockets. "It's fine, I'll get over it."

She gave you a half smile, "can we at least give you a ride. I'm sure Steve won't mind driving."

"I'm just going to walk," you muttered. "It's not far."

"Alright, catch you on Monday! Last week of senior year!" She exclaimed and raised her hands, mimicking pompoms for added flair. She outstretched her arms and wrapped them around you and provided a tight squeeze.

"Can't wait," you groaned unenthusiastically.

Monday came and went and before you knew it, the final bell of Friday rang throughout those hideous green and gold hallways as a sea of graduates congregated in the gym; tossing their shimmering green caps into the air, signaling the beginning of the rest of your lives. In one hand, your diploma and in the other, your yearbook filled with well-wishes and promises to keep in touch-- most of which you hoped would forever be unkept.

Robin found you outside in the courtyard after she had managed to escape her parents.

"Here's to the first summer of the rest of our lives," she said breathlessly. "Steve and I are going to the mall if you want to come, spend some of this graduation cash from my grandparents."

"I'm okay," you smiled at her. "Raincheck?"

"If you say so," she rolled her eyes. "Where are your folks?"

"My dad had a little too many of those little sandwiches they were giving out," you made a face. "Mom had to take him home early."

"I'm sure my parents could give you a ride home, if you wanted," she said with a soft smile.

Over her shoulder you watched as Eddie, still draped in his cap and gown, rushed off towards the back of the parking lot. "That's okay, I have a ride," you replied with a smirk.

You gave her a hug and slipped away; turning on your heel and escaping the crowd through the parking lot. As the cars grew thin, you noticed a familiar white van in the back, parked in its usual spot. The side door was open and Eddie was sitting in the back; a cigarette in between his lips and his guitar in his lap. His diploma was tossed up on the dashboard, and his cap and gown were tossed in the passenger seat.

He strummed skillfully as you walked up the side of his van. His eyes were lulled shut and his head was titled back on the headrest. He hummed softly and your lips couldn't help turning into a smile. He was so undeniably perfect and he didn't even know it.

"Is that new?" You had been hanging out with Eddie long enough now to know his songs by heart. He always asked your opinion on his songwriting.

His eyes fluttered open, but his fingers continued strumming. You could see his gaze taking you in as you effortlessly leaned against the passenger door. He shrugged lazily and tilted his head back once again, staring up at the scuffed metal ceiling of his van.

"I was feeling inspired," he finally replied as he exhaled smoke out of the corner of his mouth. "It's about a terrible, evil temptress who collects the souls of the men of the realm." You quirked an eyebrow at him. "Until one day, she meets a kind and handsome young man who doesn't have a soul to give. So instead, he gives her his heart."

"Sounds a bit dramatic," you replied as you tried to hide the smile creeping to your lips, once more.

"I was thinking about the other night," his fingers stopped strumming as he reached up to pull the cigarette from his lips. He exhaled another cloud of smoke.

"Oh?"

"Yeah, see," he took another drag from his smoke. "I do like you and I do want you to be my girlfriend, always have."

You threw up your hands, "It's hard for me to believe that, Eddie! We fuck nearly every day but you can't take me out on one date? How am I supposed to believe that you want me to be your girlfriend if you can't even respect me enough to take me out!?"

"We have too gone on dates! I bought you pizza that one time!" He exclaimed as he set his guitar back down in the case and snapped it shut. "And we watched your favorite movie!"

"We watched Troll," you deadpanned.

"Yeah, we did," he replied as he stood up out of the van. He towered over you as he stood up straight. "And after it was over you said that it was your new favorite movie."

"I was being SARCASTIC!"

"God damnit!" He spat right back.

"You took me back to your trailer because you were tired of fucking me in this van!" His jaw dropped at the accusation. "And the only reason you ordered pizza was because there was nothing else to eat and you struggle to even microwave a frozen TV dinner!"

His hand flew over his chest as he gasped. "You really are an evil and terrible temptress! Your words are venomous!"

You sighed, "Tell me honestly... is there something wrong with me?"

"You think there's something wrong with you?" Eddie asks, a small laugh escaping his perfect lips. He shakes his head and moves his hands up your arms to your shoulders, looking at your straight on. "Sweetheart, you're perfect."

A blush creeps to your cheeks and you can practically feel yourself melting in his hands.

"You're perfect, like, way too good for me," he continued, a bashful grin playing on his lips. "I should've said it before, a million times."

"You think?" You asked.

"Let's just start over, okay?" He pleaded and jutted his hand out to you as if he was asking for a handshake. "Hi, I'm Eddie. Will you be my girlfriend?"

You narrowed your eyes as you glanced down at his hand, pursing your lips in a futile attempt to suppress a smile. Fuck, you hated how goddamn charming he was. Giving up fully to him, you accepted his hand. Though, before you could utter a single word, he pulled you in for a lingering kiss that left you breathless.

"Say yes," he whispered as he pulled away, his lips hovering just above yours.

"Yes," you whispered as you look up into his dark brown eyes.

2K notes · View notes

brain-palace · 4 months

Text

Miss

coriolanus misses his family and the many capitol luxuries, but the person he misses the most, is right here in the districts.

peacekeeper!coriolanus snow x district reader. Forbidden love, sneaking around, tension. Corio has to pretend nothing is going on between him n the reader, tries to do a professional pat down on reader, but obvi does a little more bc he’s kinda obsessed.

"excuse me, miss."

your shared laughter with a local salesman dissipated as quickly as how it had originally started. the air around you seemed to chill, though the sun was still as present as ever, providing a warmth your thin sweater couldn't compare with.

you turned around, breath hitching when you focused on the familiar blue eyes you were just staring into a couple nights ago. His pristine grey uniform contrasted with the wrinkled, blue outfit you usually saw him in, and you almost giggled at how serious he looked. your lips began to curve, and your feet were moving before he could say another word.

"cori-"

"we're here for our regular checkup. making sure you don't have any illegal substances or dangerous objects on hand."

you paused in your steps, breathing out a gentle 'oh’ while the brightness on your face dimmed. coriolanus turned to another peacekeeper behind him, giving him a nod to approach the old man behind you. while he began lazily patting down the man, coriolanus placed a light hand on your forearm.

"follow me," he whispered.

You trailed behind him, observing the firm grip he had on his gun, and the confident strides he had with his black boots and solid helmet. It was hard to believe that this was a man you had shared endless laughs with, a man you've felt breathlessly on your lips, your chest, and on your neck.

He halted when he reached a curved wall a few feet away from his comrade, giving him one last look before breathing a sigh of relief. He turned towards you, letting the gun strap fall from his shoulders and resting the bottom on the ground.

"Turn around and face the wall."

Your brows furrowed and your mouth fell agape.

You had thought he was taking you somewhere private, somewhere you could both be alone and finish your conversation from last night. But hearing his stern words echo, it was clear that that was not in his plans.

Seeing your shocked expression, he silently tilted his chin back towards a group of more serious-looking peacekeepers standing guard behind him, guns aimed and eyes searching for sight of anything— a trick, a mishap, an accident.

Anything that would give them an opportunity to warm up their weapons.

You sighed, gently rolling your eyes as you turned away from coriolanus, stepping closer to the gray, concrete wall. You heard his footsteps approaching behind you, slow and a little hesitant.

"Hands on the wall," he muttered.

You almost jumped when you heard his voice, which was surprisingly close to your ear and oh-so-reminiscent. You tilted your head with annoyance, but complied, resting both of your palms on the cold, gritty surface above your head.

You felt his hands on your shoulders first. They did a quick, professional sweep over both your arms and hands before traveling down your back. He paused at your waist, both hands cupping the curvature, his thumb rubbing circles at the tender flesh of your hip.

"I miss you," he breathed.

So quietly, so faintly that you would've missed it had you not been completely still.

You wanted to reach back, to see his face and to relax your hand on his. But you could feel too many pairs of eyes on you to do what you truly wanted.

"I miss you, too,” you responded in the same, hushed, tone.

coriolanus began to crouch down, his warm breath hitting your thigh when he did so. Shivers spread from your shoulders to your toes, your bottom lips slipping between your teeth as your nails dug into the wall.

He dragged his hands down both of your legs, slower than what was acceptable, hands lingering on your ankle for longer than needed. time didn’t exist in the moment. you closed your eyes and relished in the comfort of his warm hand, imagining that you were both back on the dance floor, his arm around your waist, your arms around his neck.

A single finger dragged up the side of your body as he finally stood up. You were both quiet for a second. Suddenly, he exhaled sharply, patting the small of your waist to signal for you to turn.

As you did, you were almost afraid to look into his eyes. Afraid that once you did, you wouldn't be able to look away. but when your eyes finally did connect, he looked the same as he did last night. He was the coriolanus from last night. he opened his mouth to speak, but was stopped by a sudden smack on the back.

"all done, private snow?"

coriolanus turned and saluted, gloved hand hitting the hard material of his helmet. "yes, sir."

The higher up stood in silence while giving you a quick scan, mouth twisted like he had just eaten something sour. After a suffocating minute, he finally spoke again. "Alright. Gather the others and return to your quarters for further instructions."

coriolanus saluted him again, eyes finding yours again only when the commander had long disappeared beyond your vision.

but once he did, his previous gaze returned. Blue eyes glossy, lips parted and hands clenching the strap of his gun so tightly his knuckles turned white. He swerved his head cautiously towards the peacekeepers, you joining him in observation.

He looked back with only one intention in mind.

He captured your breath in an instant, both of his hands cupping the side of your face while his thumb grazing the bottom of your chin. His helmet sunk painfully into your forehead, but that only motivated you to push your lips further into his. You placed a hand on his chest, fingers clenching and grasping at the fabric of his shirt.

The moment was over before it had really even started.

He pulled back abruptly, eyes still closed and mouth still hungry. You gently opened your eyes, squinting as you adjusted to the bright sunlight. Coriolanus' lips were swollen and wet, red from the sudden and brutal force and shiny from the remnants of you. His chest heaved up and down. He slowly backed away.

"See you next time, miss,” he sputtered, breath still wavering. He looked away. With a twirl and a cloud of sand, he had marched away.

"Next time," you muttered to his shadow.

You sighed, stepping away from the corner and out into the open market once more. You took a few steps, and then your strides faltered.

With furrowed brows, you reached down to your shoe. A combination of a gasp and a chuckle escaped your mouth when you pulled out a square of neatly folded paper from the back of your heel.

Miss you. Need you. Midnight, tonight. Meet me at our spot.

A/n: im a sucker for forbidden love anything lolz!!

2K notes · View notes

brain-palace · 4 months

Text

Sugar And Spice

Pairing: Peeta Mellark x reader

Synopsis: Peeta gets jealous when a guy keeps coming into the bakery to flirt with you

Masterlist

“Can you watch the bakery for a second while I frost a cake?”

“I can do it but I have to warn you. I’m super charming so we’re probably gonna get a bunch of customers and sell out immediately.” You said and held up your hands in defense. Peeta couldn’t help but smile as he watched you tie an apron around your waist. Something about you wearing something that had his last name on it made you even more endearing. He knew he shouldn’t be thinking about his best friend like that, but he couldn’t help it.

“I don’t doubt your charm but we haven’t had any customers all day.” He reminded you.

“That’s because you’ve been keeping me in the back. Go frost your cake. This place will be packed when you return. Just watch”. You said and shooed him okay.

“Okay.” He replied sarcastically.

You were only alone in the bakery for a few minutes before someone came in. It was a guy around your age wearing a hard helmet so you could only assume he was a coal miner.

“Hello.” He smiled at you as he walked up the counter.

“Hello.” You replied. “Welcome to Mellark Bakery.”

“Do you guys sell bread?” He asked you.

“Here? At the bakery?” You asked and stepped to the side to give him a full view of all the baskets of bread behind you.

“Okay, it was a dumb question.” He admitted.

“It’s okay. It’s probably the only question you can ask that I could actually answer. I just learned what yeast was a little while ago.”

“Oh, so you don’t usually work here?”

“I don’t. My best friends family owns the place. But his brother gave his mom a cold and then the whole family caught it. I’m just filling in until they’re better.” You explained.

“That’s a shame. I thought I’d have two reasons to come in here now.” The boy said with a coy smile.

“Two reasons?”

“For delicious bread and a chance to see the pretty girl working the counter.” He replied. You raised your eyebrows in surprise at his flirting before smiling. You’d never had a boy flirt with you so boldly so it made you feel good.

“Well, thanks. How can I help you?” You asked him.

“My mother sent me to get that brown bread but I keep forgetting the name of it.”

“Isn’t all bread brown?”

“Well, yes.” He realized. “But she said this one is browner than the others.”

“I actually think I know what you’re talking about. Is it pumpernickel?” You asked and pulled out a loaf of pumpernickel bread.

“Yes! That’s the one. Look at you being smart. I’ll take a loaf of that.” The boy said. You didn’t really like the way he acted like it was shocking you’d say something smart but you didn’t say anything.

“Surely. Anything else I get you?” You asked as you handed him the wrapped up loaf.

“How about your name?” He smiled as he handed you the money.

“It’s Y/n. You?” You said through a nervous laugh. You weren’t entirely sure you liked the attention anymore.

“Hi. I’m Lycan.” He said and extended his hand.

“Nice to meet you, Lycan.” You smiled politely and shook his hand.

“It is nice, isn’t it? Will you be filling in all week?”

“Most likely.” You told him.

“Then I’ll be back. Thanks for the help.” He winked at you just as Peeta came out from the back. He saw the much taller and stronger looking Lycan leaving the bakery and stopped in his tracks.

“No problem.” You called after him. Peeta caught the way Lycan’s eyes lingered on you after he left the shop and he didn’t like it. He got a weird feeling in his stomach when he noticed that you were flustered.

“Who was that?” Peeta asked.

“That was Lycan. And he bought the last loaf of pumpernickel so we knead to make more. And that was a baking pun, by the way. But it would’ve worked better on paper.”

“Oh. Do you always learn the customers names?” Peeta asked as the weird feeling in his stomach grew. He was feeling jealous already and now that he knew you learned that guys name, it was even worse.

“Not always.” You shrugged. “But he asked my name so I asked his.”

“He asked your name? That was nice of him.” Peeta said through a forced smile. He didn’t know why it bothered him so much that you had caught the attention of the attractive stranger. Maybe because you’d caught Peeta’s attention years ago but still hadn’t noticed.

“Yeah. I guess he was nice. He called me pretty.” You said and looked at Peeta as if you were expecting him to disagree with that statement. Peeta clenched his jaw but kept a straight face.

“You are pretty.” He insisted. “Why do you sound so surprised?”

“I don’t know. I guess because no one’s ever just called me pretty before. Except maybe my mother. But I’ve never heard it from a boy. It was kinda, I don’t know, nice.” You said as you stared out the window. Peeta was kicking himself for never vocalizing how beautiful he found you because now you had to cling to the compliment of a stranger.

“I think you’re pretty.” Peeta said quietly. Your head turned to Peeta and you had a surprised smile on your face. Peeta turned a deep red as he waited for your answer.

“You’re pretty pretty yourself, blondie.” You replied as you passed by him. You started to rearrange some of the baked goods but Peeta was still hung up on this stranger who called you pretty.

“Did you like that guy?” Peeta asked you and feared for the answer.

“I don’t know.” You shrugged. “It was nice to be noticed. But I don’t him enough to know if I like him.”

“Right.” He nodded and desperately tried to take his mind off it. You noticed the far off look in Peeta’s eye but didn’t understand what was bothering him.

“So how’s your cake?” You asked.

“Not good. I made the frosting a weird color. Can you go look at it and tell me if I should scrap it or not?”

“Sure. But if you go check on it later and there’s a piece missing, it wasn’t me.” You teased.

“Very funny.” He said sarcastically.

“I know, right?” You laughed and went to the back. Peeta laughed as well but his smile quickly dropped when the door to the bakery opened. Lycan walked back in and Peeta gulped. He’d only seen him through the window before so now he got to see just how tall and handsome this guy was. Peeta nervously fumbled with the tie on his apron and felt a little insecure to be wearing it when this guy was covering in soot and dirt from being down in the mines.

“Hi. How can I help you?” Peeta asked him. Lycan was visibly disappointed to see Peeta there and was ignoring him as he looked around the bakery for you.

“What happened to the girl that was working here just a few minutes ago?” Lycan asked.

“Who’s asking?” Peeta asked without dropping his cheery smile. Lycan looked Peeta up and down and scoffed a little.

“I am.” He replied. “I wanted to ask her where she lives.”

“Why would you want to know that?” Peeta frowned.

“So I could see her again. I was planning on stopping by sometime. I figured she’d like that.” Lycan answered with a smug expression.

“Well I know her well enough to know she wouldn’t want me telling a stranger where she lives so…” Peeta trailed off and let Lycan fill in the blank.

“Hm. You must be the friend she mentioned. I guess I’ll just have to ask her myself. But why don’t you do me a favor and tell her I stopped by?”

“Surely.” Peeta replied. Lycan recognized the same word you had used and narrowed his eyes at Peeta.

“Thanks, baker boy. Bye.” Lycan smirked and left the bakery. Peeta blinked in surprise at the unexpected rude tone. If he was feeling insecure before, he was feeling even worse now that Lycan made it obvious that he looked down on him.

“Who was that?” You asked when you came out from the back.

“No one.” Peeta lied. “How’s the cake?”

“I actually like the grey color. You should leave it as it is.” You told him.

“But it was supposed to be a wedding cake. Won’t the customer be mad?”

“If I was getting married and my cake was baked by you, I wouldn’t care what it looked like because I would already know it was delicious. But you don’t have to worry about that because the cake looked great. Your cakes always look great. You’re the best cake decorator I know. So stop worrying about it.” You said and playfully smacked his chest.

“I’m the only cake decorator you know.” He said with a shy smile.

“That may be true.” You agreed. “But even if I knew more, you’d still be the best. You’re an artist. All your cakes are lovely. I promise.”

“Thanks for saying that.” He blushed. “We can have a grey cake at our wedding then.”

“Oh? Our wedding?” You raised your eyebrows.

“Your wedding.” He quickly corrected. “I meant your wedding. I will make you a grey cake for your wedding.”

“What if my groom wants a white cake?”

“He’ll want whatever you want.” Peeta said confidently.

“What makes you so sure?” You asked skeptically.

“Just a guess.” He said quickly. He wasn’t about to tell you that if he was the groom, you’d get whatever and however many cakes you wanted.

“Well he better. My mother is already on me about finding someone and settling down. That’s all she thinks I’m gonna be apparently. A wife.” You said with a roll of your eyes.

“Oh, yeah? Is there anyone in particular you’re thinking of?” Peeta asked without looking at you.

“I mean, I wouldn’t be against running off and eloping with you to get her off my back.” You joked. Peeta blushed at the joke and hoped there was some truth to it.

“Or maybe I’ll just marry this Lycan guy to shut her up.” You added, making Peeta’s smile drop. He was definitely jealous now and it was only gonna get worse.

The next day, you went to the bakery again and helped Peeta run the shop. He had you handling the customers while he stayed in the back to bake. Even though you had said it as a joke, you actually were bringing in a lot of customers and selling through baked goods fast. Unfortunately, you brought in Peeta’s least favorite customer.

“Oh no.” Peeta said when he saw Lycan through the windows.

“What?” You asked just as the door opened.

“Hello again.” Lycan greeted you and didn’t acknowledge Peeta in any way.

“Oh, hi, Lycan. What can I get for you today?” You asked him.

“How about you get me your favorite thing in the shop?” He asked with that smug look Peeta hated. Peeta rolled his eyes at the lack of manners but held his tongue.

“Well, that’s hard to pick. Peeta bakes everything and it’s all delicious. He’s an amazing baker.” You said and patted Peeta’s back. Peeta and Lycan made eye contact and gave each other tight smiles.

“Oh, so this is your friend who runs the bakery? Did he tell you I stopped by yesterday to see you?” Lycan asked knowing full well Peeta didn’t mention it. You looked at Peeta in surprise and Peeta gave you a sheepish smile.

“Must’ve forgotten to mention that.” He said quietly.

“Right.” You laughed awkwardly. “Well, I love the cinnamon buns Peeta makes. And we just frosted some so I’ll go grab one from the back.”

You went to the back to grab a cinnamon bun, leaving Peeta and Lycan alone together. Peeta kept his eyes down as Lycan stared at him with a smug expression.

“So how come you had her running the shop all alone yesterday?” Lycan asked with judgement in his voice.

“She was fine. She was only alone for a few minutes but she would’ve been perfectly capable of running the shop all day. She’s great at this stuff. She’s better than me and I grew up in this bakery.” Peeta defended you.

“I could tell.” Lycan snorted. “But running a business is no place for a lady. She should’ve been doing the baking while you handled the customers. A girl like that should be able to sit still and look pretty while you man the place, you know what I mean?”

“Um, no, I don’t know what you mean.” Peeta smiled tightly. “She’s not the type to sit still but you wouldn’t know that because you don’t know her. And we “manned”the shop together all day. I just happened to be in the back decorating the cakes when you came in.”

“Oh, so you make all these? Where did you learn how to do that?” Lycan asked with a condescending smile as he looked at the cakes on display.

“My mother taught me.” Peeta said quietly.

“Oh, I see. My mother taught me that a man’s job involves getting your hands dirty but hey, what does she know?” Lycan shrugged.

“Clearly not how to teach her son manners.” Peeta mumbled. You came out from the back and Peeta relaxed.

“Here. One hot cinnamon bun.” You smiled kindly and handed the treat to Lycan.

“Thank you. It looks almost as good as you do.” He said with a much kinder tone than he had given Peeta.

“Oh. Thank you.” You laughed in surprise and looked over at Peeta. Peeta was too busy staring daggers at Lycan to notice.

“See you tomorrow?” Lycan asked you.

“See you then.” You waved as he left the shop. Once he was gone again, Peeta could finally breathe.

“I don’t like that guy.” Peeta shook his head.

“What? Why not? He’s so nice.” You said. As much as Peeta disliked that guy, he wasn’t about to burst your bubble and tell you Lycan had implied you could not and should not run the bakery by yourself.

“He’s too nice.” Peeta insisted. “And I don’t like the way he was looking at you.”

“How was he looking at me?” You frowned.

“The same way every guy looks at you. Only he looks dumb enough to try something.” Peeta mumbled. You let out a laugh and Peeta was confused.

“What?” He wondered.

“Nothing. I’ve just never heard you call someone dumb before. Here I was thinking you were all sunshine and flowers.” You shrugged with an amused smile.

“I can be tough. You don’t think I can be tough?”

“Well, I’m sure you can be. I’ve just never seen it. I’ve only ever seen your good side.”

“I can be tough. I can be a real tough guy.” Peeta insisted but it sounded unnatural coming out of his mouth.

“Okay, tough guy.” You chuckled. “Show me what you got.”

“What do you mean?”

“Say something mean about me.” You said and gestured towards yourself.

“What? I would never do that.” He laughed but meant it.

“I knew it. You’re too sweet. You don’t have a mean bone in your body. You’re all sugar.” You said and squeezed his arm. Peeta blushed at the contact and felt a little better about himself.

“Here’s something mean. That guy just tracked mud all over the floors. Why are coal miners so messy?” He scoffed and grabbed the mop.

“Maybe because they’re in dirty mines all day? Just a thought.” You teased as Peeta cleaned the floor.

“This is just gross.” Peeta huffed. “And did you see his hands? They were filthy.”

“I didn’t notice them.” You shrugged.

“Yeah, cause you were too busy flirting.” Peeta grumbled.

“Flirting?” You laughed. “I was not flirting with that guy.”

“Yes you were. I’ve never seen you bat your eyelashes like that before. And when’s the last time you warmed something up for a customer? You did that to flirt.” He half joked, half meant entirely.

“That wasn’t me flirting. I was just blinking because of all the dust he brought in.” You said simply. Peeta stopped mopping and looked up to see if you were serious.

“You really weren’t flirting with him?” Peeta asked hopefully.

“With a stranger? Who do you think I am?” You scoffed and grabbed the mop from him. You cleaned up the rest of the mud tracks before handing the mop back.

“Okay.” Peeta smiled. “Good.”

“Why’s that good? You didn’t want me to be flirting with him?” You asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Psh. No. I don’t care who you flirt with.” Peeta quickly explained but even he didn’t believe it.

“Don’t you?” You asked and took a step towards him.

“I don’t.” He gulped.

“All right then.” You smiled sadly and went back behind the counter. Peeta looked over at you and wondered if you had wanted him to say that he didn’t want you flirting with anyone else.

The next day, Peeta was hesitant to leave you alone in the bakery in case Lycan came back to ask you out. If he actually made a move on you, Peeta knew he didn’t stand a chance. There weren’t a whole lot of options for dating in your district so if he asked you out, you’d probably say yes. But Peeta couldn’t stay in the front forever and eventually had to go to the back to frost cakes. And as soon as he was gone, the wolves descended.

“Good morning.” Lycan greeted as he came into the bakery. Your heart started to beat faster when he came in but it wasn’t from excitement. His presence was starting to make you anxious and you didn’t know if you liked the attention anymore.

“Good morning. What will it be today?” You asked politely.

“Some more pumpernickel please. But only half a loaf. I had some of my worker friends over last night and we went through it. We just get so hungry being down in the mines all day. You know how real men’s work is. It’s brutal but hey, someone’s gotta do it.” Lycan shrugged and leaned on the counters that you had just cleaned.

“Right.” You said sarcastically. “Anything else?”

“A smile. From you.” Lycan added. You gave him a tight smile back and realized you really didn’t like the attention. At least, not from him.

“Have a great day.” He said as you handed him the loaf and he handed you the money.

“Thanks. You too.”

“I already did. Because I got to see you.” Lycan said and pointed to you. You forced a smile back and watched as he tracked mud on the floor as he left. Peeta came out from the back a little while later and saw the mud.

“I see Lycan returned.” He said stiffly.

“He sure did.” You replied. Peeta rolled his eyes and grabbed the mop before looking at you.

“Don’t give me that look.” You laughed. “It’s not my fault Mr. Muddy Boots keeps coming in here.”

“Yes it is. I heard him telling you to smile. He likes you.” Peeta mumbled and mopped the floor. His jealousy was back and in full force so he kept his head down.

“Maybe he was just being friendly.”

“But he wasn’t being friendly to me. Only you.” Peeta pointed out.

“Okay, true. But that still doesn’t mean anything. He might just want to be friends.”

“No way. No guy wants to be just friends with a girl as interesting and funny as you.”

“What about you? You just want to be friends, don’t you?” You asked and smiled at his words but he didn’t see it. He was too busy keeping his head down so you couldn’t see how much he was blushing over what you asked.

“There. Finally clean. But if he comes in here and gets the floors muddy one more time, I’m gonna ban him from the bakery.” Peeta said to change the subject.

“Maybe he’s had enough of your baked goods and won’t come in anymore.” You shrugged.

“He’ll be back. Although he might stop buying things and just start coming in to stare at you.” Peeta grumbled, making you laugh. When your laughter died down, you thought about what it would mean if this guy actually wanted to be more than friends.

“Do you actually think he likes me?” You asked quietly.

“Of course he does. And I can’t blame him. But I can be annoyed about how often he comes in here.” Peeta said and continued to avoid eye contact with you.

“But him coming in here means you get more customers.” You reminded him. “And what do you mean you can’t blame him?”

“Him coming in here means I have to look at his dumb face while he bumbles around and tries to flirt with you. All while making the bakery muddy. I wouldn’t mind losing him as a customer.” Peeta replied and conveniently ignored the second half of what you said.

“Well we should probably bake another loaf of pumpernickel in case he comes in tomorrow.” You shrugged and started to gather the ingredients. Peeta froze and watched you tie on an apron as jealousy burned a hole inside him.

“What?” You asked when you saw Peeta’s face.

“You want him to come back?” Peeta asked in a soft voice.

“I didn’t say that. But if he does, which I’m assuming he will, we should have bread for him.”

Peeta was quiet again for a minute as he looked at you. He didn’t think you liked this guy back until he watched you gathering ingredients to make something specifically for him.

“Do you, um, do you like him back or something?” Peeta asked you. He didn’t sound angry or anything, just sad.

“What I like is earning money. Which customers bring in. Customers like Lycan.” You said and headed to the back where the oven was.

“Fine. But just don’t bake that with love, okay?” Peeta called after you. He heard you laugh and felt a little better because it reminded him that no one made you laugh quite like he did.

“I’ll try.” You called back.

The next day, Peeta was ready for anything. He asked you to bake some muffins in the back while he dealt with the customers during the evening rush. He had made it through almost the entire day before he saw Lycan coming in to the bakery. He looked around for you as soon as he walked in before walking up the counter.

“How can I help you?” Peeta asked with a forced smile.

“Actually, I was hoping Y/n could help me. She here?” Lycan asked and peered behind the counter.

“She’s busy with the baking in the back.”

“Really? I thought frosting cakes was your job? Tell me, how do you make them look so pretty?” Lycan asked in a mocking tone.

“It takes a steady hand. And a clean one.” Peeta said as his eyes dropped to Lycans dirt covered hands.

“These are workers hands. But you wouldn’t know anything about that would you, baker boy?” Lycan said in a low voice as he leaned on the counter. Peeta gulped but was determined to stand his ground.

“I know about hard work. Just because my work is different from yours doesn’t mean it’s any less important.” He replied.

“Are you serious?” Lycan laughed. “I risk my life everyday to get the coal that you use to bake your pretty little cakes. You’re not important. I mean, your work isn’t important. I know that, and she knows that.” Lycan whispered so only Peeta could hear. His words were getting to Peeta and he wasn’t feeling as confident as before.

“She’d never go for you.” Peeta said quietly.

“What other choice does she have? You?” Lycan scoffed. “I asked around about the two of you, you know. Everyone had the same thing to say. That the bakers boy absolutely adores her but isn’t man enough to do anything about it.”

“I could do something about it.” Peeta insisted.

“Oh really? Then why haven’t you?” Lycan asked him. Peeta opened his mouth to say something but nothing came out. He had no answer to give.

“That’s what I thought.” Lycan snickered. “She’d never go for you either.”

Peeta looked down at the ground and believed what Lycan was saying. You came out from the back and immediately sensed the awkward tension. You first noticed Peeta’s sad expression and then Lycan’s smug smirk.

“Oh, hi Lycan. Back so soon?” You asked as you looked between the boys and tried to figure out what had just happened between them.

“I just needed to get some bread. And seeing your pretty face never hurts.” Lycan said and switched to a nice smile.

“Aw, thanks.” You said with a fake smile.

“You know, being a coal miner is really dangerous. Nothing like the easy job this guy has.” Lycan said and nodded towards Peeta. “When the boys and I go down into the mines, we never know if we’re gonna get to come back out. So I try to take a minute and appreciate the beautiful things in life as much as I can. And that includes you.”

“Aw, thanks.” You repeated in the same uncomfortable tone. Peeta looked up and saw that Lycan was staring at him with a puffed up smile. In other words, he thought he ate that.

“See you around, doll.” Lycan winked at you before leaving the shop.

“That was painful.” You said once he was gone.

“For us both.” Peeta mumbled.

“I think you were right. I think he may be more than just friendly.” You laughed nervously.

“What gave it away?” Peeta smiled sarcastically.

“I just don’t understand what he wants from me. I don’t even know what to say when he talks like that.” You said and grimaced at the memory of his little speech.

“He probably wants a wife. And he wants you to say it can be you.”

“A wife?” You laughed in shock. “He doesn’t even know me.”

“But he wants to. That’s why he keeps coming in here. He probably wanted to ask you out today but wouldn’t with me in here.”

“Well I wouldn’t say yes even if he did. So there’s nothing to worry about.” You shrugged.

“Don’t tell me there’s nothing to worry about.” Peeta snapped. You were both surprised by his tone and stood in awkward silence following his exclamation. Peeta was too embarrassed to look at you so he kept his head down and played with the ties in his apron. He heard your footsteps coming over to him and suddenly, you were lifting his chin to get him to look at you.

“What’s this about?” You asked quietly. Peeta sighed and looked to the side.

“He works in the mines and risks his life. I work in a bakery and decorate cakes. He’s covered in soot and dirt and I end the day covered in flour and sugar.”

“So?” You laughed.

“So, he’s a real man.” Peeta insisted. “And that’s what you deserve.”

“Do you think I don’t see you as a real man?” You asked and wrapped your arms around Peeta’s neck. He turned bright red and finally looked at you.

“Look at me. And look at him. We’re not the same.” Peeta said softly.

“Just because he works down there and you work up here doesn’t make you any less of a man.” You assured him.

“It feels like it does. Especially when…”

“When what?” You asked when Peeta trailed off.

“When I thought you liked him. I assumed he caught your attention because he’s all big and tough and I’m just…soft.” He shrugged and gave you an embarrassed smile.

“He caught my attention because he’s annoying and dirty. And I happen to like that you’re soft.” You told him.

“You do?” Peeta asked skeptically.

“Of course I do. I like that you never have a mean thing to say about anybody. I like that you decorate cakes and smell like cinnamon all the time. And I like that you stop to pick flowers that you like. But you know what I don’t like?”

“What?”

“That guy. I don’t like how he thinks I shouldn’t run the shop by myself. I don’t like how he can’t compliment me on anything but my looks. I don’t like how he thinks his job makes him superior to us. And I don’t like that he made you feel bad about yourself.” You said. Peeta looked into your eyes and saw how serious you were. A smile tugged at his lips as he believed that he didn’t have anything to worry about.

“He made fun of my cake decorating.” Peeta added with a coy smile.

“What? Now that’s too far. Let’s ban him.” You played along. Peeta laughed and pulled you into a hug.

“I never want you to think you’re not good enough ever again, okay?” You said as you rubbed his back.

“Okay.” Peeta reluctantly replied. You pulled out of the hug and rubbed his shoulders.

“If he comes in here again, I’ll tell him to back off. Of both of us.” You assured Peeta.

“Good. Because I’m not much of a fighter.” He said through a relieved laugh.

“I know. You’re a lover. Thats what I love about you.” You told him and went to go clean the counter. Peeta watched you for a minute with a content smile on his face.

“It is?” He asked in a soft voice.

“Amongst other things, but yes.” You replied.

“There are a lot of things I love about you too.” Peeta said without looking at you.

“Are there?” You asked with piqued interest.

“Of course. Dozens of things.”

“Dozens?” You pretended to gasp and looked over at him.

“Uh huh. A bakers dozen.” He replied with a coy smile.

“Hey.” You laughed. “Baking humor is my thing.”

“I know, I know. But I think that’s another reason Lycan bothered me so much. I thought he was gonna take you away before I got a chance to tell you any of them.” Peeta said simply. Your expression changed but he didn’t catch it as he went to change the sign on the door from “open” to “closed”.

“Well. It’s quitting time.” Peeta sighed and looked the front door.

“Right. We should go.”

The next day, Lycan came in bright and early in the morning. He was the first customer and walked in before you had even arrived yet. Peeta gulped when he saw him and hoped you’d get to the bakery as soon as possible. Then he remembered what you had said about what you loved about him and felt a little braver.

“Hey, Peeta. Just you today?” Lycan asked in a condescending voice.

“For now.” Peeta answered calmly.

“These are nice. You pick them yourself?” Lycan asked as he flicked one of the flowers Peeta had in a vase on the counter.

“As a matter of fact, yes. I did.”

“I thought so. Just when I thought you couldn’t get anymore pathetic. It’s no wonder Y/n doesn’t want you.” Lucan snorted. He hadn’t heard you entering the bakery from the back so when you appeared behind the counter where Peeta was, he gulped.

“Oh, hi, Y/n. Good morning.” He said nervously and hoped you hadn’t heard what he just said. You gave Lycan a big smile before turning to Peeta.

“Good morning.” You greeted Peeta before pulling him into a long kiss. Peeta was stiff with shock at first but then kissed you back as his hands found their place on your waist. Lycan watched this with a dropped jaw and angrily cleared his throat when he felt like it was going on too long. You pulled out of the kiss with a big smile and patted Peeta’s red cheek.

“Sorry about that.” You chuckled as you wrapped an arm around Peeta’s shoulders. Peeta and Lycan were both silent as they processed what had happened. You made your choice loud and clear to the both of them and they were both too stunned to speak. Peeta finally smiled and took one of the flowers out of the vase to place behind your ear as a little thank you. You smiled in appreciation before looking at Lycan.

“So.” You shrugged. “What can we get you?”

Tag List 🥖

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brain-palace · 4 months

Text

ᡴꪫ‎ ﾟ. 𓂃 ˎˊ˗ 𝑩𝑶𝑿𝑬𝑫 𝑯𝑨𝑰𝑹 𝑫𝒀𝑬﹒elliot !

drabble tags female reader. vvv suggestive content. black reader in mind but anyone can read. smoking. flirting. kissing.│star note: just got off work and got the best wings of my life so i will bless with this drabble.

in elliot’s bathroom, you sat on the sink, him standing in between your legs as music played soundly enough for the two of you to hear it from his bedroom. the sunny afternoon had been long and boring for the two of you until elliot had mentioned he needed to re-dye his hair and to which you gladly volunteered to do so.

“is rue coming over later?” you asked as you mixed everything he’d told you to inside of a black boil with the brush. looking up from the boil towards your boyfriend, you find him taking a hit of the joint he’d rolled. you swore he hadn’t heard a thing you said until he replies.

“nah, told her we can hangout tomorrow,” he said, blowing the smoke from his nose. you slightly frowned at his response, hoping you would get to see her today.

“why? i thought you said we were gonna hanging out today,” you questioned, moving closer to him so you could get better assistance to the top of his head. he welcomes your closeness with open arms as he snakes a arm around you. he even goes as far as to sets down the joint in the ashtray— that sat close beside you— to bring the other hand around to touch you more.

you don’t pay him any mind and begin applying some of the dye to his hair. “we are,” he replied, averting his eyes from your face to your thighs where he slides his hands up them until he’s underneath the fabric of your shorts. his reply makes you roll your eyes before parting the small area you’d done to get to his roots.

“elliot, i mean with rue!” you chuckled at his sarcasm.

“why!?” he looked up at you with a groan, wanting to throw his head back to add more of a traumatic affect but he decides not to for obvious reasons. “am i not enough for you?” you could practically hear the grin in his voice.

“shut up. i just haven’t see her in a while.” you continued mindlessly applying and parting his hair.

“hm,” he replied at first before leaning in, interrupting your sequence. you go to ask him to move his head back but his lips are already on yours. his normally moisturized lips are slightly dry from the joint and are moving slowly against yours as if attempting to gather moisture. you don’t complain, allowing the kiss to build and alike his lips, his dry tongue soon searches for moisture but inside of your mouth. your arms relaxed around his neck, making sure not to get any dye on his clothes or neck. he’s too busy rubbing the inside of your thighs and trying to soothe his tongue to even care.

once he’s satisfied, he pulls away and you look at him in confusion. “what was that for?” you felt you already had an idea but you wanted confirmation.

he grins, knowingly before replying, “my mouth was dry.”

“i see, and you couldn’t just go to get water?” you ask, removing your arms from around his neck to continue to applying the dye, hoping half of it hadn’t already sat for too long.

“that would’ve gotten you to stop talking about not spending time with me,” he mumbled, before licking his lips.

“you’re so dramatic,” you hummed.

“speaking of being dramatic. think i could eat you out later? my mouth is still pretty dry,” he teased, eyes locked on your face to capture your expression once his sentence process.

as if finished at the perfect time with most of his head, you stop completely at hearing his question and look at him. “how does that have to do anything with being dramatic?” as expected, he shrugs. “turn around so i can get the back.”

he doesn’t right away. “wait… so is that a yes or a no?”

“turn around.”

 2023 kauastar.

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brain-palace · 4 months

Note

I have a request

So Ash is alive but Fez is in jail

So like Fez and the Reader have been dating for awhile like they're high school sweethearts (even tho he's a drop out) and before he got arrested she got pregnant.

Could you write how that looks. Like phone calls, and letters, and visits, but also write when he gets out and he gets to finally see his kid

hi love! ty for requesting🩷 idk if you wanted a little blurb but you got this big ass fic lmao, sorry i got carried away! also in this custer was never killed at Fez's house so he only got charged with drug possession and given like one or two years because he's a first time offender (i think?) ik it's all over the place but i hope you like it;)

fezco x pregnant!reader

warning: mentions of drugs/drug abuse, murder, jail, pregnancy, throwing up, giving birth, infant care, Fez's dad is mentioned once, religious imagery/mentions of praying, lots of crying.

wc: ± 4530

a/n: this is so similar to my other fez fic but also not at all lol. I tried changing it up as much as possible but there are def a lot of similarities I'm sorry. not proofread!

gif not mine, all credit to original creator.

You and Fez met back when he was still in school, just before he had dropped out. He sat next to you in History and the two of you would only talk briefly, often just about things like what the date was or when the next period would be. He would occasionally crack a joke or make a lighthearted comment that would always catch you off guard.

He was a normally stoic and calm person; he didn't talk much and kept to himself most of the time. This made you appreciate the rare jokes and little bursts of personality even more. You quickly found yourself talking more and more with him, and he'd start greeting you when you passed each other in the hallways. You had considered him somewhat of a friend after a while. Maybe not the closest, but you valued the little time you two would spend together.

Then he started showing up to class less and less, and rumors had begun spreading around. A few weeks before he dropped out, he had asked you if he could copy your notes that he had missed while absent, and you agreed. He told you to drop them off at the convenience store his grandmother owned, because that's where he spent most of his afternoons.

You did this every time he didn't show up to class; you'd write him all the notes neatly and bring them to him at the store, and in return he'd let you take whatever you want from the shelves free of charge. You always took the same thing (a can of Sprite, a packet of Sun Chips and a pack of cherry flavored twizzlers), and after a while he had started keeping the three items at the counter, ready for you to grab when you came around. One day he asked you if you'd like to stay a while before heading home, and you spent your afternoons sitting on the roof of the convenience store eating your treats and talking about whatever came to mind.

You never asked him why he wasn't at school, or even asked yourself why you'd go through all this trouble for him. Maybe it was because you've always been way too nice for your own good, or maybe because you had a little crush on him. One day when you were on your way to give him the day's notes, he'd told you he was dropping out. When you asked why, he only replied with, "Have to take care of my grandma."

You didn't stop visiting him after he left school, and would go to the store every other afternoon, quietly doing your homework by the counter while he restocked the shelves. He never explicitly told you, but he enjoyed having you around. You never asked too many questions and you were always nice to him. He would say maybe too nice to count as just being friendly.

As time passed the two of you grew closer and closer. You had met his brother Ash and occasionally helped him with his grandmother, who you had only met briefly before she became ill, when you were making your rounds to drop of his notes.

A few months later he had asked you out, and you said yes. You haven't looked back since.

That was years ago, and this was now. Now, you were sitting on the lid of the toilet in the dead of night with a pregnancy test clasped tightly in your right hand, while the other covered your mouth in shock. The two red lines stared back at you tauntingly as you felt your head spin with anxiety.

You were pregnant. You were pregnant with Fez's baby and you had no idea how you were going to tell him. You finished up, washing your hands and face and made your way to the bedroom you and your boyfriend shared. You hid the test in the drawer you kept your underwear in and sat on the edge of the bed, waiting for your boyfriend to return home.

He arrived eventually, but you couldn't find the strength in you to tell him. You knew you had to eventually, you couldn't possibly keep this a secret for too long, but you were terrified. You had no idea what his reaction would be, and you feared the worst.

The night you finally did get the courage to tell him, was the same night he decided to almost kill Nate at a New Year's Eve Party. Your plan had been derailed once again and that night you found yourself sitting in the bathroom while you silently cleaned the cuts on his hands. You knew you couldn't tell him then, he was still on edge and filled with adrenaline from everything that had transpired. He was definitely not in the correct headspace for a revelation like that.

Everything after that night was an absolutely downward spiral.

With Faye moving in, Mouse getting killed in your house and ultimately Fez getting arrested after Custer had ratted him out, you found yourself at your wits end. He had been arrested and taken away right before your eyes, and you felt completely helpless as you watched him get dragged out of the now ruined house, with a distraught Ash clinging to you like a lifeline.

☆˚｡⋆

Fez was only given three years for drug possession with the intent to sell, considering he was a first-time offender. Three years may not have been much considering it could have been a much heavier sentence, but your stomach still churned at the thought that he would be away for that long. What about Ash and Marie? What about the store?

What about the baby?

You couldn't do this. It felt like the world was suddenly dropped on your shoulders as you watched the officers drag Fez out the court, and away from you.

You shot up from the uncomfy wooden bench and made your way to the closest bathroom, where you threw up the little food you managed to keep down this morning. When you finished you flushed the toilet and made your way to the sink to clean up. As you stared at your reflection in the dirty mirror, everything struck you at once like cold water being thrown in your face.

You were going to be alone. Alone and pregnant, having to look after Ash (who God willing, they don't take away from you) and his grandmother. You hadn't even realized you were crying until your reflection became blurry and your breathing erratic.

You went back home that evening, with a dreadful feeling deep in the pit of your stomach for what the future holds.

☆˚｡⋆

Fez had finally been approved for calls, and after not hearing anything from him in weeks you were ecstatic to finally hear his voice.

You had received a call from the jail where he was, following all the necessary steps and pressing all the necessary buttons before you got to talk with him. When you heard his voice say your name you had to stop yourself from breaking down right beside the telephone. It hadn't even been a month and you already missed him more than words could describe.

He said your name again in a questioning tone and you realized that you hadn't said anything in return.

"Fez?" was all you could force from wobbly lips as your grip on the phone tightened. "Yeah baby, it's me," he said quietly. "I miss you," you said trying your hardest not to sob. Gosh, you couldn't even think about asking him how he was doing, you just wanted him to know how much you needed him right now.

"I miss you too baby, so fucking much," he replied, "how are things going that side?" You inhaled sharply before answering. "I don't know," you answered truthfully, "I'm still trying to figure everything out right now. But okay I guess."

He hummed. "What about Ashtray, he around? Can I talk to him?" he asked. "Of course," you said before calling out to Ash, who was over the moon when he finally got to speak to his brother after so long. You saw him smile for the first time in months, and you were overjoyed at the sight.

When they were finished catching up he handed you the phone. "You still there?" you asked. "Yeah baby, but I only got like a minute left. Listen I'll call you back as soon as I can again okay?" he said. "Okay, goodnight. I love you so muh, Fez," you rushed out. "I love you too baby, so mu—"

He was cut off by the ending call and you placed the receiver of the telephone back on the wall.

☆˚｡⋆

You didn't know how to tell Fez you were pregnant over the phone, so you settled with writing him a letter. You told him how you were pregnant, and that you were planning on keeping the baby. A part of you already knew you were keeping the baby the moment you stared at the test in your hand. The thought of being pregnant now absolutely terrified you, but recently you had found yourself fantasizing about what the little one would look like.

Would it be a little girl or a boy? Would she have your nose, or your eyes? What would her soft hair feel like under your fingertips? What would her first word be?

You hadn't even realized you were already referring to the baby as "she". That was what made you realize you were already deadset on keeping the baby, whether Fez wanted to be apart of that or not, even though it pained you to think that way.

You nervously sealed the letter and sent it off, hoping for the best. Fez had called you the same day he received the letter.

"Hi Fez," you answered nervously.

"You bein' serious Y/N?" You knew exactly what he was referring to, so you took a deep breath before answering him. "Yes, I'm being serious," you said quietly. You could hear him sigh and curse under his breath before he spoke up louder. "How long you known?"

"From before the raid. But, before you say anything, I did want to tell you on New Years, but that shit with Nate happened and everything after that was a total shitshow," you breathed, "I'm sorry for not telling you earlier."

"Shit, it's alright ma I ain't mad, jus' a bit shocked," was all he said. There was a short silence between the two of you before he spoke up again. "I'm gonna be a dad?" he asked softly. "Yeah..." you said, waiting for anything to indicate how he felt about this. "I'm so sorry I can't be there wit' you for this," he said. That broke your heart. He wanted to there, wanted to be a father and the thought made your heart fill with joy.

"It's okay, we can't help the circumstances," you said. "Listen, I promise you imma be here wit you every step of the way, okay? Maybe not physically, but I want you to keep me updated on everthing alright?" he said. "Okay, I promise I will," you breathed, a smile stretching across your face. "Imma do right by you, baby, I promise. You ain't doin' this on your own."

You were sure your heart was going to explode. You were going to have a baby with Fez. The circumstances were the farthest from ideal, but you were hopeful that you were going to be able to do this. You were going to do this. For yourself, for Fez and Ash and for your baby.

☆˚｡⋆

The pregnancy was anything but easy, and it was even harder without Fez by your side. It helped that he showed his support in any way he could, like always calling and sending letters, checking up on you to stay updated with the condition of your baby. You were roughly at 3 or 4 months and by now the little bump was already visible.

Telling Ash was one of the things you were the most nervous about. You didn't know how he'd feel about a baby being bought into your living situation. You had sat him down and got straight to the point. When the words first left your mouth, his face twisted into an unreadable expression. He seemed to be mulling it over silently, before a small smile stretched across your face and he replied shyly with, "So I'm gonna like, be an uncle?"

☆˚｡⋆

The letters you frequently wrote Fez were on of the only things he looked forward to. He loved reading them, reading about how you were doing and everything that was happening with your body and with the baby growing inside you. It sometimes fet like he got to experience the pregnancy right there beside you, with the way he could clearly indicate your mood swings even in your writing.

The letter would quickly go from I saw an old couple sitting by the old park benches today and I broke down in tears to The guy at the drive-thru told me I couldn't order 'just pickels'. Imagine saying no to a starving pregnant lady!

When he received the letter with a small black and white attached to it, he nearly cried. The little ultrasound picture didn't look like much, you could barely make out the big white blob in the middle as a baby, an actual human being. He turned the picture around and saw that you had written our baby! in your messy handwriting, with a little heart at the end. That was all he needed to actually start crying.

That night he couldn't fall asleep at all. His mind was filled with a million thoughts that were consuming him. What if something happens to her or the baby while I'm in here? Will she be able to cope on her own? What's she gonna do once the baby is born?

What if I'm not a good father?

That's what was eating at him more than anything else. He didn't want to be like his own father, and his worst fear was eventually ending up like him, no matter how hard he tried not to. He didn't want his kid to hate him, he wanted to be the best dad he could be, because he already knew that you were going to be the absolutely best mother any child could ask for. He knew because he saw the way you cared for Ash, like he was your own little brother. He also knew that you had a big heart. When you loved, you loved with everything in you, so he didn't have an inkling of doubt about you being a good mother.

That was the night he had promised himself that he would be the best father that he could be for your child and that he'd give them the love and support he never received from his dad.

☆˚｡⋆

By now you had finally been approved for your first visit, and you were over the moon. The first time you visited you went alone, and when Fez saw you walking into the cold room, a slight waddle to your step and a cute little bump sticking out from your pretty pink sundress and cardigan, he swears he had fell in love with you all over again. You looked so beautiful, he thought, maybe more beautiful than you've ever been.

Maybe it was the pregnancy glow people would always refer to, or maybe it was the fact that he hadn't seen you in months, but he couldn't get the dopey smile off his face as you made your way to the table where he sat.

You were permitted to a brief embrace and kiss at the beginning and end of each visit, and when he wrapped his arms around you for the first time in months, and got to inhale the smell of your almost unfamiliar perfume, he didn't ever want to let you go ever again. His grip on you tightened a little bit and you had to will away the tears threatening to spill over your cheeks when you felt his warmth consume your body. It felt like home being back in his strong arms.

"You're gonna squish the baby," you said playfully, placing a kiss on his shirt over his heart. You honestly didn't mind at all; you'd let him hold you like this forever if you could. You eventually broke away when you saw the guard giving you a unhappy look from the corner of your eye. You sat down on the cold metal bench and he found his seat accross from you.

You so badly wanted to hold his hand while you talked to him. You wanted to sit next to him and feel the warmth of his body radiating off him and bury your face into his neck and hold onto him for dear life, but you couldn't.

"Y'know if it's a boy or a girl yet?" he asked. You absent-mindedly tapped your manicured nails against the metal table that separated you two, until the guard had given you a stern look from behind Fez, by now irritated by the repetitive sound. You retracted your hands, placing them in your lap and shaking your head. "No, I'm finding out at the next appointment," you smiled, "do you still have the photos I sent you?"

You were referring to the ultrasound photos as you had sent him in letters from all your appointments. "Of course I do," he smiled, "keep 'em in my cell, under my pillow." You smiled, looking down at your belly and softly running your hand over it.

"I think it's gonna be a girl," you said softly, as if it was some secret only the two of you had the right to know. "Nah, it's a boy," he replied and you rolled your eyes playfully, which made him laugh. "Of course you think it's a boy," you joked. He shrugged "I'm still gonna love 'em whether they a boy or a girl," he said, before adding, "but it's gonna be a boy."

You rolled your eyes at him once again, this time more dramatically, and rubbed at your belly. "I just know it's going to be a little girl," you said, and when you looked up from your belly your eyes met Fez's. They were filled with an immeasurable amount of admiration and love, and you couldn't help but shy away from the attention.

"If it's a girl, I hope she look like you."

☆˚｡⋆

The last few weeks of your pregnancy you had asked your mother to stay with you until it was time to go and give birth. By now your belly was fully formed and perfectly rounded, and you were waddling around the house like a lost penguin. Everything was hurting, from your feet to your back and pregnancy brain was truly kicking your ass. As much as you loved the beauty of pregnancy, you couldn't wait to finally get this over with.

You were on the phone with Fez when you had first felt it, the liquid running down your legs followed by a slight cramp in your abdomen. At first you were scared that you had peed yourself (your bladder had been your number one enemy recently) but it didn't take long to realize what was happening.

Without even sparing Fez another word you hung up and called for your mother. This was it, you were finally going meet your baby.

Ash was shitting bricks as he paced around the house while you and your mother gathered everything to head to the hospital. Soon enough you found yourself in the hospital, with your arms leaning on the bed trying to control your breathing. The pain felt like nothing you've ever felt before, and at some point you thought you were going to pass out.

A little while later and you had started to dilate. After what felt like a lifetime of mindless pushing and incoherent shouts, the screaming of your baby girl filled your ears. You looked next to you, to your mother who was still holding onto your hand tightly while her other hand pushed the hair out of your sweaty face. You were beyond grateful to have her with you, but your heart yearned to have Fez with you for this moment. When you got to hold your baby in your arms you cried like a crazy person. She was so beautiful, and your heart was already filled with abundant love for her.

☆˚｡⋆

You've had baby Eden at home for almost two weeks, when you finally got a call from Fez.

"How'd it go baby? Is she healthy? Are you okay?" he had asked as soon as he heard your voice greeting him. You pressed the phone tighter between your ear and your shoulder. "She's as healthy as can be, and she's beautiful, Fez," you said happily, as you rocked the baby in your arms to sleep. "You gonna send me a picture of her?" he asked.

"I already have a few taken, I just have to get them printed then I'll send them to you," you smiled, "she's so beautiful, Fez." You knew it was a little biased, but she truly was the most beautiful baby you'd ever seen. Her pretty long eyelashes that rested on her chubby cheeks and the pretty pink lips that would sometimes streatch into a toothless smile, or her cute button nose that would scrunch up when she yawned or sneezed. Everything about her was so absolutely perfect.

"I can't wait to see yall ma," he whispered. You could hear the slight sadness in his voice. "Me neither," you replied with a sad smile.

☆˚｡⋆

He had no doubt when you told him that Eden was a beautiful baby, but when Fez got to see a picture of her for the first time, all the air was knocked out his lungs.

That was his baby. His baby girl, wrapped tightly in a fluffy pink blanket and a little cap to match. He couldn't stop looking at the picture, his thoughts going at a hundred miles per hour. Fez hadn't seen a lot of babies in his life, but he was one thousand percent certain that Eden was the most beautiful baby he'd ever layed his cynical eyes on.

He couldn't remember the last time he prayed, but that night Fez found himself closing his eyes and praying. He prayed that you and your baby were kept safe, he prayed that his baby girl would stay healthy and happy, and he prayed for the patience to diligently serve his sentence, counting down the days till he got to hold you both.

☆˚｡⋆

You sat in shock as you read the contents of the letter over and over and over.

Fez was going to be released from jail earlier for good behavior. He was coming home, to you, to Ash and his friends and to his baby. He was going to meet his daughter.

Ever since giving birth you hadn't brought Eden along with you when visiting Fez. She was still very young, and you didn't want her driving the long distances back and forth. This unfortunately meant that Fez hadn't got to meet his daughter yet. That was changing soon though.

☆˚｡⋆

You were pacing back and forth in the house, waiting for Fez to come knocking at your door. Today was the day Fez was coming home, back to his family, back to you.

He had to go through several release preparations, then pre-release custody and then supervision. After he complete those steps he had a full release from the BOP system, and they arranged transportation for him to come back home.

He had asked you to not tell anyone about him coming home, he didn't want people bothering him and wanted to spend his first night in just the company of the people he loved the most. You had kept to your word and not told a soul, not even Ash, who you knew would soon be jumping out of his skin when he gets to see his brother.

You had Eden in your arms, gently rocking her back and forth to soothe her. She was a little cranky because she didn't get her afternoon nap in, and when she finally dozed off, you went to go place her in the small crib next to your bed.

You shifted your weight from one foot to the other nervously, before checking that everything was good. The food was cooked, the house cleaned and the bed covered in clean sheets.

The hard knock on the door almost made you drop the pie you had taken out of the oven. It was custard pie, his favorite. You removed your oven mits and sprinted to the door.

When you opened it, there stood Fez with a small smile on his face. You immediately wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him as close to you as possible. He was here. He was back home with you finally and you got to hold him for as long as your heart desired.

By now you were sobbing into his neck, beyond relieved and happy to finally have him home. When you broke away he looked down at you, tears in his own eyes.

"Hi," he breathed. "Hi," you replied through a half sob half laugh. "You're home." "I'm home."

Ash had cried when he saw his brother standing in the living room awkwardly, and wrapped his arms around him tightly, almost as if he was scared of losing him once again. Once everyone had settled down somewhat, you decided to ask Fez the big question.

"Do you wanna see her?"

☆˚｡⋆

The room was dead silent as you pushed open the door and made your way inside, Fez following soon after. You could see the anxiety written on his face, evident in the slight tremble of his hands. This was a very big deal to him. He was going to meet his daughter for the very first time.

You made your way over to the crib, standing next to it and urging him to do the same. He warily moved closer to the crib, looked over the edge and down to where the little girl layed peacefully assleep. He could see the small rise and fall of her chest as she breath rhythmically, and the way her two small fists layed clenched tightly next to her body. If he listened closely enough he could hear her breathing, and the soft cooing sounds in between.

"She's beautiful isn't she?" you asked quietly, and he only nodded, not once lifting his gaze. "Would you like to hold her?" This made him look up at you. A part of him wanted to say no. He didn't want to hold something as precious as her in his hands. Hands that have done shameful and awful things, much too tainted to handle something as fragile and irreplaceable as her.

"It's okay, Fez," you said, sensing his hesitation, before reaching into the crib to pick her up gently. When she was secured in your grasp, you turned your body to him and he hesitantly reached out to take her from you.

Once she was in his arms the small tears began to fall from his eyes. You rubbed his back comfortingly as you watched him closely.

Nothing that Fez had ever achieved in his life measured even closely to this moment. No amount of money or fortune would make him trade this. This was it. This was him, being home and being able to be with you, with his family.

His grandmother had taught him the importance of family and looking out for each other. She taught him that the family he'd have would be the people he was willing to die for, and as he stood in the quiet room, his daughter in his arms and you by his side, he knew that he had found his family.

He looked over to you, and when his eyes met yours he saw the contented look on your face, behind all the happy tears.

"She looks like you," he smiled.

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brain-palace · 5 months

Text

Fell Hard For You | John Shelby x Reader

Request: yes by anonymous

Pairing: John Shelby x reader

Summary: On a whim, (Y/N) decides to help a man who injures himself while running away from the police. An unlikely relationship then forms from that accident.

Warnings: language, injury

Word Count: 3261

A/N: I couldn’t help myself with the title haha. Enjoy! :)

Let me know if you want to be put on a taglist for future stories like this one!

———

After placing the washing tub on the cobblestone sidewalk, (Y/N) sat down on the stoop of her home and picked up the first article of clothing she needed to get washed. It was just like any other day in Small Heath. There were kids kicking a ball across the street, people were chatting as they walked down the road, and the distant sound of coppers' whistles could be heard down the lane. (Y/N) paid no attention to any of it, until she heard what sounded like a man tumbling to the ground.

She knew it was a man before she even looked up because the person's voice was deeper as they groaned out in pain. She also knew that they tumbled to the ground because she heard the sound of their body skidding off of the cobblestones. "Fuck," the man groaned as (Y/N) finally looked over to where the commotion happened.

She saw him rolling into a ball on the ground as he grabbed onto what looked to be his lower leg. She furrowed her eyebrows slightly as she stood from the stoop and started to walk over to him. "Ah, fuck," she heard him curse under his breath as he continued to writhe in pain.

"Sir?" she called out to him before she approached any further so that he wouldn't be surprised by her. "Are you ok, sir?" she cautiously asked as she came to his side.

"I think me fucking ankle's broken. I caught it off the curb," he explained, his hands still gripped onto the body part in question. Before (Y/N) could say anything in response, the sound of the coppers' whistles kicked back up. "Fuck!" he exclaimed then as he attempted to roll onto his side and lift himself up. As soon as he put weight into his hurt foot, however, he fell right back down to the ground.

"You can't put any weight on that foot, you're going to hurt it more," (Y/N) stated the obvious, but it was all that she could think of at the moment. The sounds of the whistles were getting closer by the second.

"They're coming for me," he grunted out as he tried so hard to get himself up. All of his efforts were for nothing though because he just ended up crashing to the ground again. "I've gotta get the fuck outta here," he groaned, frustration seeping through his words.

(Y/N) bit on her lip as she thought up different ways that she could move him. Then it came over her: was she really about to help a man who was on the run from the cops? She searched the immediate area hastily before her eyes stopped on one of the alleyways that her lane had. "Come with me. I'll help you to walk," she said to him, extending her hands in his direction in hopes that he would take them and get to his feet. He, instead, just stared up at her. He couldn't believe that she'd actually said that. That this random, very beautiful, stranger had just offered to help him. "Do you want to get caught by them?" she questioned him after he hadn't made a move to reach for her hands.

The man wasted no more time in talking both of her hands and allowing for her to help him onto his feet. She then slung one of his arms over her shoulder so that the weight of his body would be balanced out by her. Once he was steady, she ushered him over and into one of the alleyways. They both exhaled long breaths after they reached the end of the way, where they were now in the dark and out of sight from the people walking down the street.

"Thank you," the man said between his gasped breaths. He hadn't gotten a break since the coppers started chasing after him several blocks down the road. He had almost made it home, but a curb had to come and change plans.

"You're welcome," (Y/N) smiled over at him before she glanced down at his foot. "How is your ankle feeling?" she asked as she looked back up at him.

"I don't think it's broken, which is good. I probably just twisted it. It hurt like a bitch when it first happened, but the pain’s easin’ up now," he answered, slowly moving the foot in question around in slow circles.

"That's good to hear," (Y/N) nodded her head, happy to hear that he had no major injuries. "What were you running from, if you don't mind my asking?" she let her curiosity get the best of her.

"Coppers caught me stealing," he shrugged it off like it was nothing important. (Y/N) didn't quite know what to say to that. He said it just like it was any other normal thing. "They should have passed by now. I'd say we're alright to go," he stated, motioning to the opening of the alley.

(Y/N) nodded and watched as he started to walk out. He was a couple of steps ahead of her when his ankle gave out and sent him tumbling to the ground. "Fuck!" he exclaimed as he hit the pavement before rolling onto his back and grabbing his ankle again. (Y/N) hissed at the sound of the impact and hurried over to him, reaching out to him once more. "I think it may be broken now," he winced before letting out a sigh and coming to his feet.

"You've got to get to a hospital," (Y/N) pointed out, allowing him to drape his arm over her shoulder as they walked out of the alley together.

"No. No hospital," the man shook his head, "just need to get to me house. Me aunt'll know what to do."

"O...ok," (Y/N) nodded. She was surprised that he was refusing medical help despite being in pain. "I'll help you get home then," she offered. They started off down the street, going at a slow pace due to the fact that the man was limping pretty badly now.

They walked in silence until he decided to speak, "my name's John, by the way. John Shelby," he introduced himself, thinking that this woman should at least know his name.

"Shelby...you mean Shelby as in..." (Y/N) trailed off and was a bit taken back by this information. She knew of the Shelby family; knew of the things they did. The fact that he was running from the coppers made complete sense to her now.

"I can crawl, if you don't want to help me out anymore," John stated after gauging her reaction. He half expected it...most reacted that way when he told them his surname, but he was also hoping that she'd see past it. He wanted to spend more time with her, even if that time was spent in pain from his ankle.

(Y/N) shook her head, "no. I'll still help you. I just...I didn't expect you to look like this," she told him in all honesty.

"What did you expect?" John asked her, a bit of a grin playing on his lips.

"I didn't expect you to be so...properly dressed, if that makes sense," she responded, feeling slightly embarrassed.

"Appearance is everything in the world of business," he responded, his grin turning into a wince as he put too much weight on his ankle. (Y/N) smiled slightly at his statement before they continued down the street. "I never got your name," John spoke up after it'd been silent for a few moments.

"It's (Y/N)," she answered, smiling over at him. "What's that face for?" she asked him, her eyebrows furrowing as she was unable to read his reaction.

"Nothing," John shook his head with a smile, "just a nice name is all...nice name for a nice person," he complimented her, making her cheeks heat up. "This is my house," he stated then, waving his arm out to a door. (Y/N) nodded before she turned the both of them slightly to face the door. John then grabbed the door handle and twisted it before pushing the partition aside.

The sight that appeared in front of her was the last thing (Y/N) expected. Instead of a living area, there was an open room with several chairs and tables scattered around it. There were quite a few people inside also, which confused her even more. She'd never seen a house quite like this before.

"Scudboat, where's Polly?" John asked a man once he and (Y/N) had stopped in front of the table that person was sitting at.

"In her office. I'll get her, John," the man answered, giving (Y/N) a once over before he left his post.

Moments later, he was returning with an older woman by his side. She took one look at John and (Y/N) before she was addressing the room, "everyone out!" she yelled and within a few seconds, the room was cleared. (Y/N) was even more confused now, but she tried to maintain her composure as the woman came to a stop in front of her. "What have you done now, John?" she questioned, quirking an eyebrow.

"I was runnin' from some coppers and I twisted my ankle on a curb," he explained and the woman sighed almost immediately.

"Jesus Christ, John," she mumbled, shaking her head.

"I think it may be broken. He can't keep much weight on it," (Y/N) spoke up then, informing the lady of the severity of the injury. She felt the urge to shrink into herself as the woman's eyes snapped over to her in an instant.

"And who are you?" Polly asked, her gaze intense as she looked the younger woman over.

"She helped me, Pol. Took me into an alley to get away from the coppers," John answered before (Y/N) was even able to think of a word. "Her name's (Y/N). She's good," he assured the older woman then.

Polly didn't look so sure though. She was still staring at (Y/N) like she was sizing her up for a fight. (Y/N) tried so hard not to crack under her gaze. After what seemed like forever, she finally spoke, "thanks for bringing him here. Although I would have left him on the street to pay for his mistakes," she quipped, a hint of a smirk forming on her face. (Y/N) almost wanted to let out the breath she'd been holding.

"Pol," John sighed, "can you help me out?" he asked her then, sounding much like a child who had gotten themselves into trouble.

"Don't I always?" she responded, waving him on before she turned and started to walk to a set of doors. John looked down at (Y/N), who nodded her head and started to assist him in following Polly. "Sit him down there," she instructed (Y/N), pointing to the dining table. John then eased himself down into one of the chairs, letting out a sigh when he was finally sitting.

(Y/N) watched as Polly moved about the room, grabbing the things she needed before she sat herself down on one of the chairs and took John's bad ankle into her hands. She assessed the injury before she went about wrapping it tightly. "Jesus, Pol, not so rough please!" John exclaimed, wincing at the pressure that was being put on his sore ankle.

"Do you want it to heal properly or not?" Polly questioned, continuing on with what she was doing.

Soon enough, he was all bandaged up and Polly was putting her things away. (Y/N) was just kind of standing there at that point, not really knowing what to do. "I guess I'll leave now," she stated, motioning to the door.

John nodded his head, "ok. Thanks for bringing me here, (Y/N). I don't think I'd 've been able to do it without you," he sent her a smile and she responded with one of her own.

"You're very welcome. I'm happy I could help. Polly, it was nice meeting you," she smiled at the other woman in the room then.

"Likewise. Thanks for bringing his sorry self back here. Maybe he'll finally learn," she responded before sending a glare in John's direction. (Y/N) laughed slightly before she moved to the door, ready to see herself out. Before she could, however, she heard Polly talking: "she seems like a lovely woman, John."

"She is," John agreed with his aunt.

"You oughta do something to thank her for this," she suggested, her words making (Y/N)'s stomach do flips. She decided to leave the house then, a slight smile now on her face. She wouldn't mind seeing John Shelby again.

——

(Y/N) hurried to the door so that she could get the incessant knocking to stop. She let out a gasp after opening it to find John Shelby standing on the other side of the threshold.

"John? What are you doing here?" she voiced her confusion, her eyebrows furrowed slightly.

"I wanted to come and ask you if you'd want to come along with me to the derby this weekend?" he asked as he leaned up against the doorframe, "you know, as a way to say thank you for helping me and all."

This was the last thing (Y/N) expected him to say. "You'd really want to take me?" she asked him, knowing that the derby was some big, formal event that only the upper class indulged themselves in attending.

"Yes, I'd want to take you. We've got ourselves a betting license. This is our first legal race and I want to have you by me side at it," he told her, his words making her cheeks heat up slightly. "What do you say?" he asked after she'd been quiet for a few moments.

"I'd love to come with you, John," she gave her answer as she smiled up at him.

"That's great. Thank you, (Y/N)," he smiled as he heard what she had said. "Make sure you wear something beautiful," he told her then.

"I will," she nodded, trying so hard to keep her giddiness from reaching the surface and embarrassing herself. She looked up at him then as they both stood in silence. "Is that all then, John?" she asked him, giggling slightly after they'd been looking at each other for a few moments.

"Yeah, that's all," he abashed, looking down at his feet so that she couldn't see his cheeks turn pink. "I'll see you on the weekend," he then looked up at her, sending a smile in her direction.

"I'll see you then," (Y/N) agreed, nodding her head before she smiled at him once more. They said their goodbyes before (Y/N) shut her door and leaned against it. She wiggled in excitement then, finally letting the giddiness course through her body.

Not only was she going to be seeing John Shelby again, but she was going to be accompanying him to the derby. She couldn’t wait for the weekend to come.

——

The derby turned out to be not at all what (Y/N) expected. She'd been sitting at the bar in the event room by herself since just about the moment she arrived.

Everything started out perfectly. John picked her up and drove them to the track. He placed his hand on the small of her back, keeping her close as he escorted her into the entertaining section of the complex. He even flashed her a smile and complimented her on the dress she'd chosen to wear. But then he took off. He said that his men needed him down on the trackside and that he'd be back shortly. (Y/N) agreed and said that she'd be sitting at the bar. That had to be at least a half hour ago. She was feeling really sorry for herself as she sipped on what had to be her third gin of the evening.

Then, just as she was about to stand from her stool and pay the barmaid for nursing her misery, John came rushing over to her side. "Where have you been?" she asked, trying so hard not to let the anger that had been brewing up come out in full force. Then she noticed the cut on his jaw, "and what the hell happened to you?" her eyes widened as she took his cheek and turned his face slightly to see his injury better.

"There was a bit of a problem with the Lee boys. Tommy basically started a war with them. They tried to take our money," he told her, letting out a sigh then, "I didn't expect for you to be sitting here by yourself for the entirety of the night when I asked you to join me. The men I brought along with me were confused on what to do, and we needed this to go right, and since I'm the head of this, I didn't want it to fuck up, and...I'm sorry, (Y/N)," he ended his long spiel by apologizing to her, his eyes locked onto hers.

"Don't worry about it, John," she sighed as well, not knowing what else to say to him. She still felt like she'd been forgotten. The day had turned out to be nothing like she planned, and it bummed her out.

John frowned slightly at her words. He knew that she wasn't saying what she truly felt. "Let me make it up to you, please, (Y/N). We'll leave here. I'll take you to dinner. I just don't want this to be how the day turned out," he thought up a new offer, "I really like you. From the moment you helped into that alleyway I...liked you, and I don't want to lose you over this. Please, let me make it up to you," he was practically pleading with her now.

At first, she didn't know what to say. It all was happening so fast, but she couldn't deny that she had liked him too. That was most of the reason why she agreed to join him here. Now he was standing across from her, waiting intently as she decided whether or not to give him a second chance.

To John, it felt like an eternity until she spoke again. "I like you too, John. And I'd like to come to dinner with you," she finally answered him, but she continued before he was able to let out a breath of relief, "but if you leave me alone at the restaurant, I will have no choice but to leave on my own accord."

"I won't let that happen," he smiled down at her before he moved to her side, extending his arm out for her, "come with me now." (Y/N) smiled up at him and hooked her arm with his, letting him lead her out of the complex and to his car.

They shared a lovely dinner together that night, and all of the past inhibitions and worries that she held towards John were gone by the end of the time they spent together.

It was obvious that John had fallen hard, both for her and in front of her. And as he dropped her off at her house at the end of the night, leaving her with a sweet kiss on the lips, it became evident to (Y/N) that she'd fallen pretty hard for him too.

———

Tagged: @alreadybroken-ts @the-anxious-youth @magicalxdaydream @look-at-the-soul

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