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larissaschristies · 3 months

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Symphonies - Chapter 2

(AO3 Link in Title)

Chapter 1: Tumblr | AO3

Word Count: 2,855

Summary: You and Larissa have a… confusing dinner together.

Notes: Thank you all SO. MUCH. for liking/reblogging my little fic, it means the world to me! And again, thank you to @weemssapphic for being the best beta!!

Tag List: @barbarasstar, @readingtheentrails

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You arrived at Koto twenty minutes early, your anxiety about being late and making Larissa wait for you not allowing you to be any later. You waited in your car, mindlessly scrolling on your phone, when out of the corner of your eye you saw a flash of white-blonde hair as Larissa rose from her vehicle. Your breath caught in your throat as you realized her hair was not in its usual pinned up twist, but falling in loose curls over her shoulders. She had swapped that delicious tan dress for an emerald green velvet suit, perfectly tailored to fit her body in all the right places. You looked down at yourself, the cream colored satin top and black pencil leg trousers suddenly feeling entirely inappropriate for this meeting. When you looked back in Larissa’s direction she was gone, and you briefly thought she’d changed her mind about meeting you before you realized she was halfway to the entrance of the restaurant, her mile-long legs making short work of the distance. You quickly removed your keys from the ignition and shoved them into your small purse, followed shortly by a failed attempt at stuffing your phone into the purse as well before you gave up and slipped it into the pocket of your trousers. As you opened the door to step out of your car, you felt the telltale dampness in the air of impending rain and huffed out a sigh; you had left your umbrella hanging on the doorknob of your closet at home.

Great, you thought, can’t wait to get absolutely drenched on the way to my car later.

You raised your left arm, the smart watch on your wrist automatically lighting up to show you the time: 6:52pm. Perfect. You closed the car door and bent down to check your makeup and hair in the side mirror before heading into the restaurant.

The lighting inside Koto was dim, small lights over individual tables provided a warm glow throughout the room. The walls are painted a deep navy blue, tasteful artwork in rich golden frames peppered throughout the perimeter. Your eyes scanned the room for Larissa, and your heart skipped a beat when you located her near the back corner of the dining room. The host walked up then and smiled at you.

“Party of one, ma’am?”

“Actually, I am meeting someone.” You said. “Tall blonde woman in a velvet suit?”

“Ah, yes!” He chuckled and stepped away from the host stand. “Larissa is right this way.” He gestured for you to follow him and weaved his way through the tables to the two person booth Larissa now sat at.

“Miss Weems, your companion for the evening has arrived.” He smiled politely at you both and bowed before he excused himself and walked back toward the front of the restaurant. You nervously tucked your hair behind your ears and waved shyly.

“Hi.” You all but squeaked out. Larissa looked up at you and a grin spread across her face. She held a pale hand out across the table in invitation.

“Please, Lillian, sit.” You did as you were told and tried not to focus on how the image of Larissa looking up at you would likely be imprinted on your brain forever, or how that action made your core throb.

“Good evening, Principal Weems. How did the rest of your afternoon go?” You placed your purse on the seat next to you and reached for the menu despite the fact that you already knew what you’d be ordering.

“Oh please, darling, call me Larissa,” the deep laugh she let out sounded like music to your ears, “I’m not your principal after hours.”

“Larissa.” You said, still a bit nervous despite the smile you forced to your face.

“My afternoon went quite quickly, if I’m being honest. I tend to get rather caught up in my work, and before I know it the sun has disappeared and I haven’t left my desk in hours.” Larissa reached for her glass of red wine and took a small sip.

“Oh my gosh, me too! Well, not at my desk, obviously, but when I’m practicing my cello.” Larissa smiled, her red lips parting slightly, the sight of which spurred you on. “I find it almost meditative, repeating passages until I make fewer and fewer mistakes. I don’t believe it’s possible to ever play a piece perfectly, there are as many interpretations of the ink on the paper as there are people in the world. There’s no way anyone can say that my interpretation or Jacqueline du Pre’s interpretation or even a young student’s interpretation of any given piece is incorrect; they’re just different. Hell, even my interpretation of The Swan by Saint-Saens has evolved from the first time I played it at 14 to what it is now. I’ve changed as a person, I’ve experienced more life, and the way I perform the piece has grown with me.” Somewhere in your monologue, Larissa had set her wine glass down and perched her chin on the palm of her hand, her fingers playing with her dangly earrings. Her eyes never left your face and when she didn’t speak after you were done you grew self conscious and leaned back into the booth.

“Sorry, I… I got carried away and took over the entire conversation.” You tucked an errant piece of hair behind your ear and crossed your arms over your chest.

“No, darling, nonsense.” She reached across the table and gestured for you to give her your hand, which of course you did. She pulled you away from where you’d shrunken back into your seat so that your face was back in the light. “I could listen to you talk about music for hours. The way your face lights up and you come to life is bea—“ She stopped abruptly and her eyes widened a bit as she quickly pulled her hand back to her lap and looked away, her cheeks turning pink. You opened your mouth to say something before getting cut off by the waiter returning to your table.

“Good evening, ladies, what can I get started for you in the kitchen?” He looked to you first, his pen and paper poised ready to write down your order.

“Good evening! I’ll take an order of salmon sashimi and the sirloin steak, medium rare, please. Larissa?” You looked over at the woman and smiled, only to notice she had the menu open and covering her face.

“I’ll just have the house salad with shrimp, and two orders of salmon sushi, please.” She closed the menu and handed it to the waiter and you did the same. Once he finished writing down Larissa’s order, he bowed quickly and left the table. You turned your attention back to Larissa, who had already stood up and placed her napkin on the table.

“Excuse me, I need to use the ladies’ room.” She said shortly and walked away before you could even process what just happened.

—

Larissa closed the bathroom door behind and locked it. She took a deep breath and placed her hand on her stomach, right underneath her diaphragm so she could focus on breathing. She had almost called you, her newly hired employee, beautiful, and it was sending her into a panic. Not because she didn’t think it was true, no. The exact opposite, in fact. From the moment she’d stepped into her office and laid eyes on your face as you whirled around to greet her, she’d thought you were the most beautiful woman she’d ever seen. Unfortunately, you were also the best candidate for this job she had ever seen, and she would rather do what’s best for her Nevermore family than take the risk of allowing feelings to develop.

She’d never had much luck with feelings. The first time she’d experienced anything akin to love, her heart was shattered and she was left picking up the pieces as her roommate went on to live a disgustingly blissful life with a dolt of a man. The second time she’d let someone in, they had taken advantage of her, subtly having her shift things about her appearance until Larissa looked in the mirror one day and realized she wasn’t even Larissa anymore. It had taken her two years to get back to herself, and even now when she looked in the mirror she still wasn’t sure what was wrong with her to begin with. The third time… the third time Larissa developed feelings for someone, she was manipulated, assaulted, and damn near killed. So no, Larissa did not have a good track record with feelings. She refused to call it love because she honestly didn’t know what love felt like, what it looked like, what it could be like.

Larissa took another deep breath and shook her head slightly, as if her brain was an etch-a-sketch and a simple jostle could clear away her mistakes. She walked over to the sink and turned the cold tap on, then reached for the paper towel dispenser to pull one out. She held it under the tap briefly to get it wet, then folded it into a small square and squeezed the excess water out. She used it to gently dab at her face, the cool touch of a paper towel helped her ground herself and stop the panic attack. She grabbed another paper towel to dry her face and hands, then threw both of them in the trash. She looked in the mirror and straightened her blazer and shirt collar and turned on her heel to leave the bathroom.

—

“So sorry, darling, there was a line.” Larissa said and you looked up from what you had been reading on your phone. You shoved the phone back into your pocket and smiled up at her.

“No worries!” You replied. Your eyes followed Larissa as she slid into the booth and you licked your lips subconsciously. She reached for her wine glass and used her other hand to toss her hair over her shoulder, then took a sip of her wine. As the glass left her lips, a drop began to slide down the outside edge and her tongue darted out almost instantly to catch it. Your eyes locked in on the way the tip of her tongue flattened against the glass, then the way it curled as she pulled it and the drop of errant wine back into her mouth.

Okay, maybe a few worries, you thought to yourself, suddenly feeling very warm in this booth.

“What do you like to do in your free time, Lillian?” She said as she sat the glass back down on the table, like your brain hadn’t just short-circuited.

“I uh… uhm…” Your mouth opened and closed a few times and you were only too aware that you looked a bit like a fish trying to breathe out of water. You cleared your throat and willed your brain to come up with something, literally anything, so you don't look like a fool in front of Larissa. “I book. Read. I read books.”

‘I book.’ What the fuck was that, idiot??? It took everything in your power not to roll your eyes at yourself, lest Larissa think you’re bored of her.

“Oh? I love reading as well. My personal library is rather extensive, and the Nevermore library is quite large as well. I’m sure you and I will run into each other there on occasion. What kind of books do you read?”

Don’t tell her you read fairy porn, don’t tell her you read fairy porn.

“Fai-“ Shit. “Fantasy mostly, with the occasional romance thrown into the mix. I also enjoy nonfiction every now and then, usually about music or the industry. There’s this great book called Playing for Their Lives that details how El Sistema helps children and young adults in Venezuela escape the gang violence by giving them a place to go and commune with others as part of a youth orchestra. That book is a big part of why I want to devote my life to teaching: I want to give kids a safe place to come to when they don’t know where else to go, and an outlet to express those difficult emotions that even adults struggle with.” You looked up from where you’d been fidgeting with your hands and found Larissa’s eyes wet with tears.

“Oh my god, Larissa I’m so sorry, was it something I said?” You scrambled to unroll your silverware napkin and reached across the table, catching the tears under her eye as they spilled over.

“No, darling, no. It’s just… the way you speak about music and how much you clearly love it is… refreshing.” She grabbed her own napkin from her lap and let out a watery chuckle as she wiped at her eyes. “I don’t think I’ve ever met someone as passionate about their work as I am with mine. People often look at the hours I spend in my office, the time I dedicate to my students as being silly. ‘It’s just a school, Larissa, get a life.’ What they don’t understand is that Nevermore is my life.” She placed her napkin back in her lap and picked at invisible lint on her suit, avoiding your gaze as much as she could.

You reached across the table then, holding your hand out for her to take. She hesitated briefly before placing her hand gingerly on your own. Her hand was warm and soft, the tips of her oxblood painted nails that grazed over your palm sent shivers down your spine. Your eyes were locked onto hers as the restaurant around you seemed to fall away and you leaned forward almost imperceptibly. Before you could do anything stupid, though, the waiter walked up to your table with a tray laden with food balanced on his arm.

“Dinner is served, ladies, enjoy!” He carefully removed each plate from the tray and set them down in front of you and Larissa, then bowed and left your table. The rest of dinner passed without anything too dramatic happening, and soon it was time for you and Larissa to part ways.

“Lillian, I’m so glad you were able to join me this evening. I feel like I’ve really gotten to know who you are as a person in a way that wouldn’t have been possible in a formal interview.” You both stood in the mud room of the restaurant, Larissa poised to race to her car with an umbrella grasped in her hand. You stood there empty-handed, the torrential rain outside filling your bones with dread. “Do you have an umbrella, darling?”

“I uh, I sure don’t.” You laughed awkwardly and gestured to where your car was parked. “It’s not a big deal, though, I can make a run for it. And, as my granny used to always tell me, I’m not made of sugar so I’m not going to melt.” Larissa scoffed out a laugh before she reached over and pulled you into her side.

“Nonsense, dear, my umbrella is big enough for the both of us and I’m happy to escort you to your car.” Your nose filled with the warm vanilla scent of the tall woman next to you and your eyes fluttered closed as you felt the warmth of her body begin to seep into your own. If Larissa noticed this, she had the decency to not bring attention to it and before you knew it she was pulling you out into the rain, her umbrella opening up just in time to keep you from both getting absolutely drenched.

Well, from the rain anyway, you thought as she navigated the two of you through the parking lot to your vehicle. Larissa kept her hand on the small of your back for the entire length of the parking lot, and the second she pulled away it instantly felt too cold. You unlocked the doors of your car and turned around to find Larissa impossibly close to you. Her breath grazed across the top of your face as she leaned in to open the door for you. She held the umbrella over the gap to allow you to sit without getting wet.

“Drive safe, darling. I shall see you at Nevermore on Monday, yes?” She straightened and smoothed over the front of her suit jacket.

“Yes, of course. I wouldn’t miss it.” You smiled up at her and stuck your arm out to grab the handle of the door. As it closed you watched Larissa take a few steps back before she waved and turned to head for her own vehicle. Her hips swayed gently with each step, and as much as you loved to watch her go, your heart longed for her to come back. You put the keys on the ignition and turned the car on. After you turned the windshield wipers on high and adjusted the temperature of the car, you shifted into drive and pulled away from Koto, the events of the evening looping in your mind the whole way home.

#Larissa Weems #Larissa Weems x Reader #Larissa Weems Fanfic #Gwendoline Christie #Wednesday #Wednesday Netflix #LarissasChristies

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sweetestofchaos · 4 months

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Have Mercy - One | P.JM & M.YG

series masterlist | masterlist

☾ a/n: here is chapter one of the long overdue series. i was supposed to have this finished back in october and it just didn't happen. i am still working on the next chapters, so please don't rush me. i will post as i go and i hope this lives up the hype! please keep in mind that this is a dead dove story. it will get darker in the future chapters! Shout out to @theharrowing for beta reading, a hi-five to @benkeibear for the support divider and thank you @saradika for creating the wonderful lace divider.

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Sitting in the library, surrounded by silence and written words, you are safe. Safe from the stress of the outside world that stops for no one. Tucked away on the floor, back pressed against the shelving unit with your legs pulled close to your stomach with ankles crossed, is where the librarian, Mr. Pete finds you. The book in your lap is one of your favorites, ‘Beauty’ by Robin McKinley. It is one that you have read many times and know nearly by heart.

A shadow falls on your seated form, and when you look up, standing before you are two police officers. You frown, not sure as to why they would be standing in front of you. You haven’t done anything wrong. No one has come to you with a complaint, and you chew on your bottom lip, closing the book with your finger between the pages so that you don’t lose your place.

Seeing that they have your attention, one of the officers squats down and peers at the book in your lap. You notice her stare and clear your throat, “Um…it’s my favorite book. A retelling of Beauty and The Beast. I know it’s childish but the story is beautiful.” You explain, keeping your eyes on the cover in your lap.

The officer shakes her head with a soft smile, “Rapunzel is my favorite.”

She licks her lips, slowly lowering herself all the way to the floor, and your blood rushes loudly behind your ears. What is going on? Why is this officer still here? What does she want with you? She states your full name and when you confirm that is indeed your name, her eyes dim a little.

“Is something wrong?”

You notice that Mr. Pete’s face is pinched and he is looking at his feet. Something is clearly wrong. Are you being kicked out?

“There has been an accident, I need you to come along with us, okay?”

“An accident?”

Your hands feel damp, clammy as you try to understand what the officer, Wise, her name tag reads, is saying to you. You wipe a hand on your cream-colored wide-legged pants and look at the Officer before you. Why would they come to you about an accid-

“My brother…where is my brother? Is he okay?”

Suddenly the book in your hand weighs a ton, crushing your legs and threatening to break your fingers as you struggle to stand on your own two feet. You stumble a little over your tan leather flats, and Officer Wise is quick to rise and helps you up. Steading you with a strong yet gentle grip of your elbow. You remove your arm from her hold and wrap them around yourself as you look between Officer Wise, her partner, and Mr. Pete. The warmth and softness of your tan boucle sweater is slightly grounding.

“Is my brother okay?” You repeat yourself once more.

Officer Wise’s eyes are muddled with something heavy, it’s a look that you haven’t seen many in her line of work wear. She clears her throat and offers what you suppose should be a reassuring smile.

“Why don’t you come with us, yeah? We ca-”

“I’m sorry, but until I know what is going on, I refuse. I do not feel comfortable right now and you are not making the situation any easier.”

Mr. Pete speaks up from his place beside the other officer the moment he hears the distrust in your voice, “Honey, go with them. It’s for the best. Trust me?”

You consider Mr. Pete’s words. The older man is like a grandfather to you, he has worked at this library since you were a child. You nod and start to hand the book you were reading to Mr. Pete, but he shakes his head.

“I’ll check it out for you.”

Offering a thankful smile, you lean away from Officer Wise’s touch and follow her and her partner through the library. All around, people watch and whisper to each other as you are led outside. Your shoulders pull close to your ears and you duck within yourself, wanting to hide away from the attention. Officer Wise takes you to her squad car and opens the back door. You look at the seat, and she rolls her eyes as her partner jumps in the passenger seat.

“Your brother is currently at the hospital…I am taking you there.”

Your heart drops at the news. The hospital? He should be at the basketball court with his friends like he is every Wednesday after work.

“Will you tell me what happened?” You plea, and Officer Wise shakes her head.

“My Captain is with your brother now, he will explain everything when you arrive.”

You get into the car with a frown on your face. You watch the news, you know what horrors live in the world, and your mind races as you try to figure out where your brother fits into them. The patrol car is cold, the leather is worn, and it’s tiny, hardly any room to move. You do not ever want to be back in this seat again. As the car pulls off, you want to watch the world go by, but your head drops to the book in your hands. Your grip is tight, your fingers pressed as flat as they can be against the cover of the book. Taking a deep breath, you focus on the cover and say a silent prayer in your mind.

You are not prepared for what meets you at the hospital. The sterile scent of cleaning products that aren’t strong enough to erase the subtle stench of death that clings to the very walls is strong. Officer Wise shows you to a room that is blocked by two armed officers. You gulp and follow her into the room, feeling your world shatter at the sight of your brother. Tubes and gauze…what have they done to him? Tears burn, blurring your vision as you push past Officer Wise and stumble over to your younger brother.

His chest is moving slowly, up and down. There is a tube in his throat that is breathing for him, hissing with each pump and collapse of grey bags. Someone clears their throat, and you rip your eyes away from the broken body of your brother. An older man stands closer to the foot of the bed, his face tired and remorseful.

“W-What happened?”

You blink a few times to clear your vision, a single tear escapes and you quickly wipe it away.

“I’m Captain Brighthill. I-”

“Please,” your voice is weary, you have no energy for polite greetings and fake pleasantries. “Why is my brother here? What happened to him?”

“Right-” Captain Brighthill clears his throat and looks right into your eyes. “Your brother was caught in the middle of a shoot out between two armed men and some of my officers.”

The book in your hand falls to the floor, the thump louder than any bomb. The Captain takes your silence as permission to keep speaking, and he glances at Officer Wise. “There was an APB put out earlier of two armed men that had committed an armed robbery. The owner of the home was killed.”

You understand what the Captain is saying but that still doesn’t explain how your brother got caught in the crossfire. Your question shows on your face as your eyebrows pull together, and the Captain continues.

“The suspects split up and the officers on the scene were unable to get a proper look at them. Eyewitness reports gave a description and your brother fit the profile.”

The Captain's words echo in your head. Your brother fit the profile…huh? Now where have you heard that before?

“Get out.”

“Now wai-”

“Get out!” You glare at Officer Wise. Now you understand why she looked guilty when she got you inside her car. Officer Wise shot your brother, it was her poor judgment that put your brother in the hospital.

Officer Wise steps towards you and Captain Brighthill places a hand on her shoulder. He shakes his head and pushes the officer towards the door.

“We’ll leave you alone. I’m sure that this is all quite a shock and I offer my deepest apologies.”

You turn your back on them the moment the door shuts and collapse into the seat next to your brother’s bed. They shot him, an innocent kid, minding his own business…protect and serve, what a joke.

“Look what they did to you.”

Your lower lip trembles and you carefully slip your hand underneath your brother’s palm up. He may be younger than you, but his hands are bigger, it is something he always teases you about whenever he gets the chance. You sniffle and rest your forehead on the back of his hand as tears pour from your eyes. You can’t lose him. Your brother is the only family you have left.

The situation hasn’t improved. Your brother was shot five times from behind, one of the bullets hit his lungs, another shattered his right hip bone and another passed through his shoulder, and the other two bullets are embedded in his spine. The doctors are worried about operating on him, and since he has yet to wake up, things are not looking hopeful.

You visit every day, having put in for emergency leave at your workplace; once your boss found out the reason, he nearly pushed you out the door. He is a good man, and gives you a full week to get things in order and figure out what you need to do.

Every day, you sit beside your brother and read out loud one chapter from ‘Beauty’. You started it from the beginning just for him. When you finish a chapter, you sit in silence for another hour and then you leave. You go to the bookshop that Mr. Pete’s wife, Mrs. Betty owns; that their children take care of once in a while.

Mrs. Betty is an older woman who is big into the spiritual side of the world. She believes that everything happens for a reason, but that doesn’t mean that you have to agree with it. She watches as you walk into the shop and smiles wide before she hurries from around the counter. There is a thick leather book in her hands, and it looks old, very old.

“I did some searching and I have found a way to help you, dear.” Mrs. Betty grabs your hand and pulls you over to the tiny round table that sits in the corner. She sets the book before you on the table, and you notice that there is no title. The leather is cracked, the pages are yellowed, and it smells weird.

You eye the book, confused. It is a book, nothing less, nothing more. You glance at Mrs. Betty and she looks at you with wide, eager eyes. Reaching out, you touch the cover of the book, and a shiver runs down your spin. You hesitate and Mrs. Betty makes a tisking sound with her teeth.

“Read it, dear. This will help your brother, I guarantee it.”

Mrs. Betty pats your shoulder and shuffles off to somewhere in the store, leaving you alone in the corner with the untitled book. The more you look at it, the more you notice that it’s not a normal book, it looks more like a journal, or maybe a diary of some sort. Glancing around, you don’t see Mrs. Betty and sigh. It can’t hurt to read it, whatever it is.

Pulling your lower lip between your teeth, you open the book and there is nothing on the first page. You turn to the next page and see a date in the upper right hand corner.

Oct 9th, 1882

You are right, this book is old, and it seems to be a journal, judging by the handwritten cursive in black ink. You have a second thought about reading this, it is someone’s personal story, and since it is untitled, you think it is safe to assume that this isn’t supposed to be read. Chewing on your bottom lip, you close the cover and stand from the table. Holding onto the book, you search the store for Mrs. Betty and find her muttering to herself underneath her breath as she puts books away.

“Mrs. Betty…I-I don’t think I should read this.”

She turns around, her wide eyes wild as she shakes her head. “Nonsense! You take it home and read it, dear. You will understand once you read it. Just read it!” Mrs. Betty pushes you towards the door, and before you can say anything else, she pushes you out. “Read it!”

The door slams behind you and the sound of the lock clicking into place makes you shake your head with a laugh. Mrs. Betty sure is something else. You glance down at the journal in your hands and sigh. Guess you don’t really have a choice. You lift your face towards the sky and say a silent prayer before you make your way to the bus stop to head on home.

It is a fall night like any other. Late enough for the sun to be long forgotten; the sky a pitch-black abyss embedded with tiny silver-white jewels. The moon is large as it hangs in the sky surrounded by wispy clouds, and the air is cool. The scent of the end - fallen leaves, stale corn, and never-ending dirt sits heavy in the lungs as an owl hoots nearby.

There is a crossroads, a stretch of patchy dirt that runs between a corn field, cutting it in two, and an abandoned stretch of farmland. In the distance a dilapidated farmhouse stands on borrowed time. The telltale sign for the truly desperate and damned that they have come to the right place.

A single telephone poll sits at the edge of the cornfield, its lone domed light acting as a beacon in the night. Drawing all those to it like moths to a flame. White-grey swirls of smoke rise out of sight as someone puffs away at a cigarette. Dressed in a suit made of the finest materials known to man, someone unknown yet highly sought after stands hidden in the shadows.

How long have they been out here, waiting for some unfortunate soul to wonder their way? Doesn’t matter, could be minutes, hours, days… Time holds no real value here at the crossroads. Everything moves off axis, a place hidden from the world that only those truly unlucky few find in times of desperate need.

The sound of an engine echoes in the night, headlights burning bright as a black Rav4 rolls down the road. Jazz music softly spills from the cracked windows as the night air floods the space inside. A woman sits in the driver seat, fingers gripping the steering wheel so tightly that her palms sweat. In the passenger seat an old book, the cover and spin cracked with age and the pages yellowed from time, sits.

Its presence is large. A person in its own right, with what is written inside the untitled book. There is an unseen power that surrounds the book, an almost tangible string that always leads the book to where it belongs. In the hands of the very person who filled its once blank pages with such powerful words.

As the car comes closer to the crossroads, the music is turned down and the woman in the driver seat bites her lower lip. She is out of options, this is the only thing left to do…

Please be real. Please, please…

It is the way the soul calls to him; a guiding light in the middle of a raging storm.

Pure.

Untainted by the evil of everyday life but not untouched. The outer shell is covered in scars from the needless violence and vile allure of life. Innocence is rare to come by in this day and age. Every walk of life has access to corruption from the moment they take their first breath. To see a soul nearly flawless is exciting, and it makes his mouth water. How sweet would this being taste? He can’t even remember the last time he feasted on the soul of a truly innocent being. Even the request is innocent. A life for a life. Oh, how lovely this will be.

As the car comes to a rolling stop, onyx eyes hone in on the unfamiliar scent of innocence. Long days spent in the sun, endless laughter from a game of tag, melted ice cream and the bittersweet sting of calling it quits for the night. A tongue, red-pink and longer than normal licks at smoke and cherry flavored plush lips. A grin pulls the skin upward faintly before cheeks hollow inward to inhale the toxic taste of nicotine and tobacco.

As the engine of the car cuts off, the music is cut midsong and the night is plunged into silence once more. Stepping into the dim light of the bulb above, the man appears. A black bolero hat keeps his face hidden in darkness, the red-orange glow of his cigarette the only other light. He is dressed in a black tuxedo with a crisp white button down underneath, tucked into pressed trousers to show his slim waist. A single white handkerchief rests in his breast pocket.

The collar of the undershirt comes above the jacket, three buttons undone that tease to the honey skin beneath. A sliver of black ink peaks from below the shirt above his pectoral and stands in contrast against the skin of his neck just below his ear. Tailor of chaos runs vertically in swirling cursive.

The click of the car door opening fills the night air followed by a thunk that sounds much louder in the dark. White sneakers kick up dust from the dirt road as the woman from the car slowly walks down the narrow road. The old book is hugged tightly to her chest, her heart beating wildly as they get closer.

The man lifts his hand and reaches up, grabbing hold of the cigarette that hangs loosely between his lips. Taking one last inhale, he pinches the white stick with his fingers and flicks it down to the ground. The red-orange end burns brightly, smoke still seeping from it. Lifting his foot slightly, black penny loafers crush the cigarette with the toe. The silver studs that are embedded into the face of the shoes catch the light from above and shine. He slips his hands into the pockets of his trousers and leans against the light pole; face still hidden in the dark.

“What’s a nice girlie like you doing out here?”

Smoke spills from his lips with each word as he watches his newest prey, waiting for an answer. The man’s voice is smooth, black silk and whiskey smooth. The woman in front of him trembles, the sound of her heartbeat loud in his ears. A melody that he craves to make his own. Slowly the woman holds out her arms, in her hands, the very book that he wrote himself is offered. He tilts his head to the side and raises an eyebrow amused.

“A gift for me, little dove?”

“Y-Yes.”

He pushes off the pole and takes slow, deliberate steps towards the woman. Her arms pull back into her chest and she holds her breath. He circles her, taking in the fruity aroma of whatever perfume she wears.

Her clothing is simple, a pale green t-shirt with a white scalloped cardigan over top and light wash jeans. Her jewelry is tasteful, a gold necklace with a tiny daisy pendant and matching earrings. There is a single red rope bracelet on her right wrist that falls over a recent hospital bracelet. Standing right behind the woman, the man licks his lips. He can see her pulse throbbing beneath the delicate skin of her throat, and he wonders just how quick he can get her heart racing.

“I don’t accept.”

“W-What?”

The woman spins around, her eyes wide and mouth parted in shock. The man clicks his tongue and glances down at the book in her hands.

“That is far from a gift,” He takes a step forward, their shoes now toe to toe. “Did you read it? Did you enjoy my suffering?” The man’s dark eyes flash a startling red, making the woman gasp and jump back. He chuckles as the book falls to the ground, unwanted.

“Y-Your… I didn’t-.”

He hums in acknowledgment cutting the woman off. “Yes. Well, most humans don’t understand what they read, now do they?”

“I didn’t read it.”

The words are whispered but he hears them clearly. Didn’t read it? Now that’s a first, and hearing no jump in heart rate, he knows that her words are true. Interesting.

“Why are you here, dove?” He asks cutting right to the chase. “Surely you know what I am and what I will do to you?”

Reaching up, he removes his hat, revealing his face to the woman. He is otherworldly. Handsome in a way that puts Greek statues to shame, and his own work of art made by the very hands of the devil himself. His black hair is coiffed, out of his face and slicked back in a fashion that matches his demeanor - elegant and cool.

“What is it you seek from me?”

“Please?”

“Please?” He repeats, his lips curling into a teasing smile as he swings his hat around on his index finger.

“Save my brother. I will give you anything you ask for. Just please? He has his whole life to live.”

“And you are the one that decides that? When was a new God crowned?”

The woman shakes her head, eyes filling with tears as she sniffles. Oh, this is beautiful. Such despair on one so pure is unimaginable.

“Please?” She tries again, voice wobbling as she bows her head with tears dripping from her eyes.

A hand cups her chin and softly raises her face. Black eyes shine like the galaxy above, endless and vast.

“Your name, dove? Tell me your name.”

She stumbles over her name but once it is said, the man’s face breaks out into the widest of grins. His teeth are a bright white and slightly crooked to match his crooked soul.

“Such a beautiful name for a beautiful soul.” The man tightens his grip on the woman’s chin and licks his lips, “You may call me Jimin.”

Before the woman can respond, the nail of Jimin’s thumb sharpens and slices the warm flesh of her lower lip. The woman yelps in surprise and pain before Jimin’s tongue flicks out and licks away the red liquid that beads to the surface.

A sudden spark, much like that of static shock, zaps where Jimin has licked and the wound is closed. Swallowing the small bead of blood, Jimin releases the woman and takes a step back. She touches her lip and stares at Jimin with those wide eyes that remind him of a fawn.

Wordlessly, Jimin pulls at the collar of his shirt and exposes his upper chest. Right on his pectoral, the woman’s name sits on his skin in red ink.

#jimin fic #jimin angst #jimin x reader #demon!jimin #bts fantasy #fic: have mercy #soc jimin #exqueuese me

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freshlyrage · 2 months

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Running Like Water

Chapter 23

pairing: Javier Peña x OFC (written as xReader)

fic warnings: NSFW Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI) language, strained family relationships, mentions of drug abuse, discussions of insecurities and body image issues, daddy and mommy issues

fic tags: Best friends younger sister, Life-long crush, Friends to lovers, Unrequited love, slow burn, Push and Pull, Small Town Dynamics, Secret Relationships, latina MC, Fluff and Angst, OFC!Jessica Alba face claim, sorry Lorraine I’m bringing you into this, Time jumps, 2 year age gap, pre-canon

word count: 5.1k

a/n: This is a double update, read the previous chapter here!

You found a routine by yourself that week. You spent sun up rearranging the wedding seating in the backyard. That was the only time you and your mother spoke – when it came to setting up for the big day. 3 days until the entirety of Laredo would gather at the backyard your mom left neglected for years. You better believe she hired the best gardeners to trim that monstrosity you all called a backyard. But it was beautiful, you found yourself daydreaming at the altar while you sorted through seating arrangements.

When you were alone in bed you called Javier. He had been working a lot since he took off with you last weekend. Driving back and forth from the DEA’s office. He’d be exhausted by the time he got home, he’d still groan and sigh, removing his shoes with his cheek pressed to the receiver. He was embarrassed by it but there was nothing cuter in this world than his little old man noises. You, on the other hand, felt aimless. The communication between you and your mother had fallen straight to none. Not even her husband sparked a conversation like he usually did in his corny step-dad way.

On Wednesday your brother comes to visit the backyard. It was the first day you decided to not tamper with the backyard equipment. The sun was exceptionally high and splitting that day. Instead, You lie on a blanket, basking in any tan you can before you sport that light yellow bridesmaid dress when the sun was blocked by your idiot brother. A bowl of grapes sat by your head.

You took in a deep breath before speaking. The few days you spent alone, alone reflecting —you decided not to bicker with him for the next three weeks, you knew the wedding had nerves high—you hadn’t brought up your father. Frankly, you’d like to never have that talk again with Frankie. Well actually, you never wanted to talk of that man… ever again.

“Do you mind?” You squint your eyes up at the curly haired boy. God your mother prayed to the lord every night he’d cut that shag off, dios por favor, haz que ese chico se corte el pelo antes de la boda. You sit up and pout as he stands with a shit eating grin. You wanted to kick his ankles out.

He bends down to grab a grape. “I’m not mad at you for all the Javier shit in high school-“

“Ugh!” You groan loudly, ridiculously tired of this topic. You just wished he’d forget it, move on, let it flow or whatever the fuck. God knows you had to, you dwelled so hard on the past you drove yourself away from Javi.

“No-I’m not mad about anything-I’m tired of being a bad brother, i’m tired of letting us drift apart because of mom. So will you get up and ride your bike with me?” He spits, extending his palm out to you. Your heart swells wide in your chest and your eyes double in size. You feel embarrassed to be choked up by your brother being nice for once. Overcome by the urge of hugging your brother and telling him he’s the best brother like you did when you were little (only when he paid for ice cream). Your grin grows wide and you take his palm.

You giggle and hop to your feet. “Let me change.” You look down at your clothing. A bikini with some small shorts covering you, You wouldn’t dare biking around town with your breasts out, no shot. That is something you most certainly cannot do when Melissa Dios Diaz is your mother.

Your brother laughs, running his sunglasses up his hair. You follow him around the side of the house. “No need, we’re all heading to the lake.”

You speed up your steps to keep up like you did as a little girl, your brows furrowing.

“Who’s we all—“

There’s Genie, in a big t-shirt and shorts. Sat up on the same white bike, her hair down in big blowout waves like you remembered. Grinning with the glow of a pregnant woman. How many things have changed, how much has stayed the same. With the sun basking behind her you nearly miss Javier sitting next to her, right on his bike. Cigarette dangling from his lips with a shirt unbuttoned showing the tan mass that was his chest. His lips curled at the sight of you.

Your heart catches in your throat.

You tried so hard not to burst into tears the second the four of you dropped your bikes by the dock. You hadn’t swam at your lake in nearly a decade and here it was, glistening the way it did. There were two small lakes in town, one simply titled our lake, which was… well. Then there was 4 Corners Lake, the lake people like Lorraine went to throw back beers– that one dried up in 1984. Your lake, the lake you splashed around on every sticky summer day of 1978. The place where Javier would stare at your sun freckles.

Genie did not waste a moment before pulling her shirt over her head and jumping in with her fiance's yell of, “Be careful!” You cringe at the sight of a pregnant Genevieve plunging into water the way she did but she comes right back up without a smile.

She whoops, “She’s fine! The water is so refreshing baby, come in!” Frankie laughs and pulls off his shirt as well. Your brows screw together. He hops right in after.

“She?” There was no way, she was far too early in her pregnancy, not even three months. You look at Javier who was unbuttoning, removing his shirt from his shoulders, you do a double take at the expanse of his chest. You never see him like this in daylight, good god, Javier Peña was hot.

My boyfriend is hot.

Your brother emerges from the water, stumbling on his words and shivering. Wiping his eyes and flipping his long locks, water splashing his fiancée in the face. She shrieks and hops on his back. He yelps just as loud and it was like a mirror facing back into your childhood. You never want to be upset with your brother ever again. “Jesus-“ He swears, Genie crawling her neck to kiss his cheek while she clings to him, “She has some weird mommy intuition that she’s carrying a girl” He opens his mouth as if he’s going to say something else but Genie tickles him and your brother has now long forgotten your conversation. He play fights in the water instead.

You smile to yourself, fumbling with your shorts. Sliding them off with a quick glance at Javier. Truthfully, you haven’t hung out all together with your new… circumstance. You can’t help but be ridiculously awkward. You didn’t even spare a glance at him while the four of you biked. He was behind you and when you were kids you would look over at him so often you would lose your footing and steer off.

Javier though, doesn’t seem to be too concerned. Who stands next to you and shoots a glance at your bare legs before leaning into your ear.

“Last one in the water owes the other a sexual favor.” In a flash of an eye he slaps your behind and he’s running down the dock.

“No!” You shout in true desperation, it wasn’t because of the idea of possibly getting him off—more so the idea of him beating you in a race. You run right after him. “What are you?! Fourteen!”

Your bare feet slap against the wood and you’re nearly caught up to him—years of lacrosse was nearly on your side, until he jumps in with a yell of “You wish I asked you that at fourteen!”

You shriek and jump in right after him. The cold water shocking your system, you’d attack Genie if she wasn’t pregnant for saying that this shit felt nice. You stay under for a second longer afraid of realizing just how cold it is once you reach the surface. You feel Javier’s calloused hands grope you under the water and you’re delighted to feel him.

You break surface and he parts from you. You wipe your eyes and scowl at him which causes him to grin like an idiot. Shaking your head you splash him, “Jodón”

Your eyes finally adjust and you giggle to yourself as Genie creeps up behind Javi, jumping on his back as well. This is how you remembered her, the sea-monkey that was your best girl friend. Always climbing up someone’s back at the lake. Javi laughs and supports her weightless body. “You two are so cute.” She smiles, resting her chin on

Javier’s shoulder. Frankie groans like always.

This had always been the dynamic, Genie egging on the idea of you and Javier, and Frankie making zombie like noises of disapproval.

“Enough…” Frankie called before swimming slowly to catch up with the small circle you created by the dock. Genie hops off Javier’s back and dips back under water to re-wet her hair.

She shakes off the water on her face. “Grow up, it’s been years we should talk about this. Where better than in the place it all started?”

The sun beams hard so your left eye shuts in defiance, it also shuts because you don’t want this moment ruined by being forced to lie even more to your brother. Javi watches you with concern, his own brows screwed together. He clears his throat, “Talk about what?” His graveling voice cuts.

“About how the two of you were making us all suffer for the past 6 years of will they won’t they.”

You shake your head with a smile, to your shock Frankie chips in with a lighthearted voice, “Well yeah, me and Genie had a bet on who would call the other first.”

It’s silent for a moment, all that is heard is the sound of running water, birds and bugs. Javier nods, his lips in a tight line. “I don’t want to talk about that. If you want to talk about me and Andrea, talk about before I left. I’ve done enough explaining about why I was gone.” There it was, Javier’s typical grumpiness coming through—you couldn’t help but agree. High school, middle school, all the time that he was here, all the time Genie and Frankie were around, they could know about that. Houston, Miami, that was just for the two of you. It was your business, your time, your miscommunication. You weren’t eager to share you and Javier’s six year long cowardice.

“To who?” Frankie asks flatly, it isn’t an attitude yet so you let him slide. If he shows one ounce of attitude about this, you’re ready to drown him.

“To Andrea. Because she was the only person I wronged when I left.” He looks over at you, with a pained crease between his brow. You harbor no more resentment, you just nod, and he knows. Frankie looks between the two of you and his face softens. It’s rare and you nearly smile at it.

“That’s fair.” Is all he says, creating another silence. You feel light as a feather and it isn’t just the water, it’s the fact that for the first time in your life, your brother doesn’t put up a fight.

You smile at Frankie and Genie, “Well! I’ve always wanted you two to just date.” Genevieve beams before flicking some water at Javi.

He shakes his head hiding a smile, “Did you really? You’re still close with Lorraine I mean that’s kind of—“

“Oh please! Lorraine is my friend, you guys are my family. I never thought you and her were compatible—no offense!” The four of you laughed together because it was true, Frankie knew it the most. He’d make a face every time Genie offered to bring her along. At the time you thought he was being a prick, and well, he was, because that’s just Frankie, but she really was only nice when she was drunk. “And… think of it this way, you already trust and know Javier and his family. Imagine having to learn a new fuckface with a new family, and god forbid he could even be a northerner. And the sicko wants to date your sister! I’m not—like pressuring you two to date or anything but, you know, Javier and Andrea are practically best case scenario.”

Frankie narrows his eyes at his wife to be, “I guess you’re right.”

You gasp audibly, covering your mouth. “Who are you!?” You shriek, splashing him.

Javier says simultaneously, “I swear I just saw the clouds part and heaven shine down on me.”

“Oh fuck you guys!” Frankie laughs and splashes the two of you. And so the water fight begins, for miles into the surrounding forest all you hear is the laughs of four childhood.

You hoped that if you ever get the chance to be pregnant, that you would look as beautiful as Genevieve did.

She lies on a blanket right in the center of the dock, basking in the sun in a bikini. Starting right above her belly button is the tiniest bump of life. And boy does your brother annoy you, but there was truly nothing sweeter than the sight of him just staring at her while she rests. His hands rubbing her tummy, she squints at him and smiles, they laugh together.

For a few hours, you and Javier are like fish, swimming around each other, throwing each other, splashing and disturbing the peace with your loud cackles. You decide to take the last 3 hours of sun beams to sit at the dock, back facing the couple. They talk and you can’t hear, so you and Javier converse freely. Hoping they are also in their own little world.

“I hated August, I still do.” You say looking over your shoulder at him. He’s looking at you with those big brown eyes and god you wished you were alone right now. His mustache is still dripping and heavy from the water. He doesn’t respond, instead shifts closer to let you ramble. “I hated going back to school and seeing you like four times during the year.”

He nods. It’s weird to think that before 1980 they hadn't really been at the same school, the summer would end and it was like you ceased to exist for Javier. It wasn’t anything you really thought of until now, for so long your mind could only circle the details of your freshman year in high school. Being at the lake reminds you of middle school and your heart race picking up when you would run into Javier at a game or at church. He lived a different life not made for you every September through May. You can’t find yourself being upset about it but god were you curious what those months were like for him. He could figure what they were for you, they were lonely, isolating times. Sitting at lunch with your English teacher, walking home, reading, and repeating. You cant but ask now,

“How was your freshman year?”

He’s staring at the patch of freckles at the slope of your shoulder, dozing in them like a constellation, figuring out how to answer that question. He clears his throat and sits up straight. “Do you want me to be honest?” You give him a blank face and he catches the wave. “Alright, I got really popular out of nowhere. I made all these new friends, I was kind of shitty.”

“Shitty how?” You tilt your head, you sensed something shifted in Javier’s junior year, your classmates still whispered of him and you know people did double takes when you walked with him the halls.

This topic was like pulling teeth it seemed. “You know how Laredo high school can be really cliquey… like when you accidentally sat at the theater table and the entire cast of Chicago gave you dirty looks all year.”

You laugh at the memory, you didn’t really make enemies in high school of course unless it was with the thespians. “Yes…”

Javier cringed, “I made a joke with my friend that I could hook up with every girl from each clique.” He says it in a hushed tone and looked over his shoulder immediately, hoping your brother doesn't hear, he was just as distracted as he was fifteen minutes ago. Your eyes widen and you stare out into the lake. A weird sting of jealousy coursing through your blood. You weren’t jealous now, no, you felt sad for the fourteen year old you that stayed up daydreaming about Javier all of seventh and eight grade while he was doing… that. You face relaxes for a moment when you’re reminded to relax, to let go.

You smile a bit and look back at him, you see it in his brow he began to panic internally at your silence. “So…”

He laughs, shaking his head, “I feel like this is a trap.”

“No! It's not, I was practically obsessed with you back then– I need to know everything for…” You make a motion of a small person standing in front of you. “That Andrea.”

He looks at you skeptically, his eyes roving around your grinning face trying to detect possible dishonesty.

“I only had actual sex with Harietta on the cheer team and Clara from science research. But you know I hooked up… with a theater girl, a soccer girl, two girls from band, a lacrosse girl –”

“Oh god please don’t tell me you hooked up with Priscilla Villa!” You shriek and he cackles with a guilty face. “No! My god, she was my trainer… okay so that's what you were doing… okay.” You turn away from him and back at the reflecting of the sun that is just an hour away from making the sky go pink, you've spent so many days watching the sunset here as a teen back then you never thought you’d be emotional over something like your lake. Javier is no longer laughing, he sat up straight again with a clenched jaw and a frown.

His own freckled chest expanding and falling slowly, “Do you see me differently?” Its quiet, it’s insecure, like maybe you shouldn’t have asked about this. Like he was embarrassed by your sick prodding, your own chest fills with panic.

You look behind you once more and your brother is cackling at a joke Genie made down the dock. You were safe to touch him.

You hook your finger in the bracelet around his wrist, loosening the piece of string to slip your wrist in between, cuffing–tying the two of you to each other. You fingers slipping into his hand that still dwarfs you after all these years. “No… never. You were so young.”

He nods, “Yeah…” His voice gravels and he clears himself again. “By the time I was seventeen I had been tired out. Probably why I was so committed to the first real relationship I got into.” You never made the link but you knew Javier had been sexually active far too young, you suppose you still had some shit to work out because you never considered the effect that would have on a young boy. “I think about all of our parents, how they married so young. When I was younger I couldn’t imagine giving up my freedom so young, I thought about my dad getting married in his early twenties and used to think, what an idiot. But I don’t know now, I feel like I've done it all. I’m not sure I want to do any more of that.”

Your skin goes hot at his words, but you can’t speak. You can’t, you’re afraid you’ll ask him to just marry you–afraid of being irrational but when he talks like that you don’t think you’ve ever been so sure.

“And I don’t want to start over either, I think doing this with someone else will break my spirit. Starting over, watching you start over, watching you settle down.” He whispers the last part and you squeeze his hand tighter, leaning into his shoulder. “I guess I’m saying that… come November, I don’t think I can bear just going our separate ways.” His voice is the way it always was, almost grumpy sounding, deep but instead with a hint of shakiness. How it sounds whenever he speaks of his mother, or of Houston.

“I’ll write to you all the time.” Is all you can say.

“I’ll pay for your international calls.”

“I’ll send you pictures in the mail.” You beam, lips twisting with mischief. “All sorts of pictures.” His brows shoot high and he looks over his shoulder again.

“I’ll wait for you, I don’t care how long.” He says while looking at Frankie and Genevieve who’s backs were now facing the two of you, the light captured him so perfectly like this. His eyes a warmer honey color and his nose casting the shadow that made him look carved by a higher power. You wanted to frame the moment. He looked back at you, less than an inch away from your face. His eyes fan, eyes looking straight down to your shoulder and he kisses the patch of freckles. Small kisses on salty skin.

You frown, running your fingernails through his hair, your left hand still tied to his. “I’ll always wait.”

You want to say, I’m always waiting.

You untangle a moment after and reminisce on different times, on happier times. Uninterrupted for a bit until you hear the sound of standing and shuffling. You and Javier both turn to see Genie and Frankie standing hand in hand.

“Hey! We’re gonna uh—“ Frankie turns red mid sentence, they’re standing at the doc Genevieve has a blush on her face as well, and she shakes her head.

“We’re going to take a walk. We’ll be back in an hour.” She beams and grabs ahold of your brother's hand and they make their way being painfully obvious.

You and Javier slowly look at each other with a smirk.

“They’re about to bone.”

“Ew.” You groan, looking at the backs of their heads as they slowly disappear.

The two of you sit in silence for a moment, Javier’s eyes hot on your chest. You suck in a breath, your breasts moving against your tiny bikini top. Javier looks absolutely starved and truthfully, so are you. He clears his throat.

“Should we-”

“Yes.” He blurts, standing and pulling you with him. You laugh and check your surroundings and hold his hand.

“They went that way, we can go over here.”

The sky is almost pink, hopefully you could see the sunset from where you drag him. You walk in front of him with your arm folded behind you, you guide him this time and to be fair you did lose the race to the water earlier. There’s nothing more fitting than a hookup amongst the trees of your lake. Your sandals crunch through leaves as you inch farther into the greenery, no carved out path but you make sure not to go too far. In silence the two of you find a tree out of sight and close enough to home base.

You drop his hand and turn to face him, “So-” He’s already got you pinned against the tree, attacking at your mouth. Kissing so roughly you stumble and hold his shoulders for support. He breaks away and you’re left panting. “Javi-”

But he’s licking a stripe from your shoulder and up your neck, sucking just below your ear. “Taste like salt and coconut, so sweet.” He grunts and drops to his knees. You gape at the sight of Javier on his knees, in the dirt, his nose skimming your bikini bottom that had that unwashable scent of sunscreen and chlorine from a pool trip last summer. You lean forward and nails digging into his tanned shoulder blades. His hands engulf the back of your thighs while his soft face rubs along your clothed mound, inhaling and kissing you. Worshiping you. “Always wanted to see you in a tiny bikini, want to slide it to the side and make you come on my tongue.” He looks up at you, and drags his pointer finger at your folds as they show through your daisy printed bikini bottoms.

You shut your eyes tightly and take in a deep breath.

“I was the last to the water. Stand up.” You say as demanding as possible but truly you were about to crumble. He furrows his brow in protest but you keep your distance, and you switch positions. Dropping down to your knees, your back faces the tree and he cages you in. Your heart races every time it’s up to you and purely your skill to get him off. Even though you have done far less to get him to come in his pants, putting your mouth on him still makes you nervous.

You suppose that’s why it also still makes you so wet. Your knees crunch against leaves, you waste no time palming him like you usually do, he’s hard—he’s been hard all day. Fingernails hook in the waistband of his swim trunks and his throbbing cock sprang out, hitting his bare chest before settling. It’s so red it’s nearly purple. You pout, “Oh Javi-I’m sorry I made you wait so long. Will you let me take care of this?” You widen your eyes like he needs any convincing, brown, wide and glossy.

His throat bobs and he nods, running one hand down the back of your head. “Yeah querida, please-oh fuck.” You give him no time to think straight before you’re dragging the tip of his cock against your sticky lips. Just teasing the entrance you’ll let him fuck for a bit. Your brows screw together and you reach your unused hand down to your breasts. Pinching and squeezing, Javier isn’t sure what to focus on. Javier crowds your hand with his, guiding himself on your lips. “Please Andrea, open up–you're killing me.”

You sit perfectly on your heels, attempting to release any tension he caused when he was on his knees just a minute ago. You’re about to open your mouth when Javier roughly grabs your chin and your mouth pops open by force. You feel your bikini bottoms soaking more at the new harshness in his hold, and your mouth is finally crowded by his length. “Mnmm-” He thrusts the blunt head at the back of your throat. He continues rolling his hips while you attempt to catch up with your tongue, your eyes flash up at him in utmost desire. Being used, letting him use you makes you feel the most in control you’ve ever experienced. You move your hand from your breasts to cup his balls. “Don’t you dare-fuck–keep touching yourself.” He gravels out.

You nod and make a sobbing noise around him. Letting him go you slip your hands back down your body. He gravels out.

You nod and make a sobbing noise around him. Letting him go you slip your hands back down your body. Rubbing yourself through your nylon clad cunt, digging your nails into his thigh while you touch yourself through your bikini. His eyes were screwed shut while he rolls his hips against your face until your lips are close to the base of him, you gag. His hand grabs the back of your hair and separates you from his cock with a gasp and a string of spit connecting the two of you. Your cheeks are stained with tears and you look up at his face. His face concerned while he runs his hand from his hair down to your cheek, wiping your lip free of spit. “I’m sorry.” He mumbles.

He’s being so gentle and your brows furrow. You didn’t want gentle, with a frown you grab his hand and guide it to the back of your head once more, taking him back into your mouth. “Fuck— baby-baby I’m gonna come.” His hips stutter and you relax your throat to take him farther once more. He comes with a moan of your name and a tight grip at your hair that stings. He fills your mouth and all you could do is breathe through your nose while he folds over with both hands gripping the tree behind you.

He softens in your mouth and you decide to part. Swallowing and licking your lips you wipe your eyes free of tears. During your self recovery Javier exhales and tucks himself away. Head blurry, Javier reaches down to stand you up right from under your arms. He wipes dirt from your knees and kisses your hip bone while he’s down there. “Thank you. You’re always so good.” Your cheeks warm.

“I know.”

He shakes his head at your comment and kisses you roughly, pinning you against the tree. You stand on your tip-toes and hold his shoulders to push back into the kiss. His large calloused hands cover your entire waistline, sliding slowly to your lower back—goosebumps rising like it’s the first time. He takes an entire handful of your ass, kneading and rolling. You didn’t have the biggest behind and you surely didn’t have the biggest breasts but he still touched you like you were carved by Michelangelo.

There’s no breeze in this heat, but branches rustle as if footsteps approach. “Mmm—I love you.” He whispers against your lips. A sun sets in your heart, in complete bliss you smile against him.

“I love you too.”

“I fucking knew it!”

You and Javier jump from each other with a gasp. Genie stands five feet away with a thrilled look.

“We-“ You begin, your heart beats out of your chest. “How long were you there for!”

She cackles, “I only saw minor groping and I love you— you guys I’m so excited right now—“

“It’s um-“ Javier begins and his voice dies before rubbing his head.

“No-no don’t explain it to me. I won’t tell Frankie or anything but if you two are serious which you just said I love you so… well Frankie will get over it just you should tell him. Tell him after the honeymoon he’d be too busy being my husband to care.” She rambles as she usually does when she’s thrilled.

“We’re dating.” Javier states and you could burst into flames.

You smile and nod, “We were planning on waiting until after the wedding to tell anyone.”

He looks to you with a smile and Genie squeals running between the two of you and hooking arms.

“Okay, tell me everything. I’ve been waiting years for this.”

#javier peña #javier peña x ofc #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena x you #javier peña smut #ao3 #fanfic #javier peña narcos #javier pena x reader

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lebonheurthebliss · 1 year

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#professional facial kit #hair treatment products #beauty products for face #hair regrowth oil #le bonheur lipo wax #le bonheur products #best skin care products #best tan removal cream

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everythingateezbackup · 10 months

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ATEEZ and your sunburn

You got a really bad sunburn during your beach girl with your besties. This is the way each of the ATEEZ members would react after you came home that evening.

Mingi

As soon as you walk into your bedroom and Mingi sees you, he shakes his head dissapointingly.

"I wore sunscreen-" you tried, but he interrupted you with a tsk-tsk-tsk.

"Now this just wont do." he said, leaning back on his pillow. "Come closer so I can inspect the damage.

You sulk over, and lift your top to show off your back, but once again he tsk-tsk-tsk you.

"Now you know that won't do baby. Strip." he demands. And so you do, because who are you to argue back to your man.

After you are completely naked, he sits up and pulls you to him. "Now why would the sun damaged daddy's previous goods like this?"

San

When you walk into your house, San is already sat in the living room waiting for you.

"I heard you got burned Kitten. This isn't acceptable." he says getting off the coach, before you could even take if your shoes.

"How did you know?" you manage to get out, before he reached you.

"I had your friend give me hourly updates regarding your whereabouts and events. But no stress, Sir has already booked you a Aloe Vera full body massage. We are leaving this instant." he says, putting his own shoes on.

"San, you really didn't have to do that." you say as he guides you out the door.

"Please call me Sir y/n. And no worries, it's the least I could do. Afterwards, we will get Five Guys."

Hongjoong

When you enter your bedroom, you see Hongjoong laying on the bed with a face mask on, half asleep.

"Hongjoong~" you say gently, while starting to pack your stuff away. "I'm back."

He stirs awake quickly at the sound of your voice, and start stretching. "How's my babygiiiirl?" he says with a yawn.

"Not the best, at the beach I-" you begin, but he cuts you off.

"Not the best? I will hurt however put you in a bad moo- oh god, oh no, oh god, what happened to my precious babygirl's skin!" Hongjoong says when he finally sits up and sees your burnt state.

"The sun burned me" you say pouting.

"This wont do!" he says, jumping of the bed, removing his face mask and putting it on your burnt face. "Wait here!"

He runs to the bathroom, and when he returns he's got a tube with aftersun cream. "Lay down on the bed."

You do, and he spends the next hours rubbing you with lotion.

Junho

You walked into the room, and at first Jongho didn't notice your bright red face and burning legs and arms, because he was playing Minecraft on this Nintendo Switch. You guys did your greetings, and you just headed to the bathroom to take a shower and apply your aloe vera.

When you came back into the bedroom, and Jungho finally looked up on you, a confused expression crossed his face.

"Y/n.. why are you red all over..." he said, while slowly lowering his switch.

"Because I got burned." you sigh back, while sitting down in the bed.

"Burned...? I don't understand." he said.

"By the sun? Like sunburned?"

His mouth opens in a shocked expression, and he looks you up and down.

"Oh no!! How dare the sun do that!! I will kissy kissy it all good with my healing mouth!" he said, before lifting your shirt and giving you kisses all over your tummy.

"Ow, that hurts!" you say, but he is busy moving on to your legs.

Seonghwa

You walk into you apartment and are met with Seonghwa sat on the floor in the living room, building a LEGO set.

"Seonghwa I'm home!" you say making your way into the living room, and you see him smile at your voice. However, when his gaze lifts up to you, his smile turns into an awkard grimace.

"Oh wow y/n! That's, ehh, that sure is one hell of a tan!" he says awkwardly

"It's not a tan, I got burned Seonghwa, badly aswell." you say, showing him your arms and legs. By this, his eyes widen.

"Oh no.... y/n, do you know what percentage the sun UV's need to be at for you to get burned like that! And do you know the statistics for how much excessive sun can turn into skin damage, or worse, cancer! You need to calculate all the outcomes before you put yourself into suck ris-" he starts panicking, but you break off his nerd-spew by kissing him. You break the kiss after a while, and grabs his head. "Shut up, and help lotion me up bad boy."

Yeosang

As soon as you enter the door to your apartment, you hear the American national anthem blasting from the living room. Extremely confused, and in alot of pain, you walk in to see Yeosang and Seonghwa in matching pj's, having a little traditional jig.

"Wha-" is all you manage to get out before Yeosang waltzes over to you.

"My dearest, why do you appear so scarlet? Are you quite well?"

You sigh and shake your head.

"No, I got burned today at the beach Yeosang."

"Oh no, what a terrible outcome! I wish you best recoveries, however I must continue entertaining my company. I will see you in the bed chamber later." he says, before waltzing back over to Seonghwa. You sigh, and go to the bathroom to take care of your burns.

Wooyoung

When Wooyoung first lays eyes on you as you enter your apartment, you could feel his whole soul sinking.

"Woo.." you tried gently, but he turned around, not wanting to look at you.

"I promise I was careful-" you try again, but he cuts you off.

"What was it all for? All the aloe I grow, the premium sun screen, the cover ups and the umbrellas?" he says, a whimper in his voice telling you he is about to cry.

"Oh, Woo.. I'll be okay." you say, walking up to him and embracing him. Feeling your touch, he can't help it - the beasts within him dies down and he starts crying, hugging you back.

"I just don't want Woo's girl to be in pain." he hulks.

"I know Wooyoung, I know."

Yunho

You come home, and Junho is dead asleep. You try to wake him up, but nothing works so you leave him be and go take your shower. When you are done, he is still fast asleep, so you give him a little nudge.

"Junhoooo~" you try waking him up, mostly because you want someone to feel sorry for you for the painful burns all over your body.

He finally stirs a little, and you lean down next to him, with a small pout.

"Wahh.. what's up, y/n?" Junho says tiredly, with a yawn at the end of the sentence, still with his eyes shut.

"I got burned today at the beach" you pout. He finally opens one eye, looking at you quickly, before he yawns again.

"Damn, that sucks." he says, before turning over and falling back asleep.

#ateez #ateez san #ateez yunho #ateez yeosang #ateez x reader #ateez wooyoung #ateez smut #ateez seonghwa #ateez scenarios #ateez mingi #ateez fanfic #ateez jongho #ateez hongjoong #ateez jungho #ateez fic #ateez fluff #admin y

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siriannatan · 6 months

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At The Edges - fWhipScott

Sometimes you get an idea and you have to write it and share it because you're unreasonably happy with it. This one's one of those :}

fWhip messed up. He knows it. Not entirely. He got the job done. He still got shot. But the mark got shot worse.

He got on the plane back home, over the divide, a damn bumpy flight. With the damn bullets still in him. And more adrenaline and alcohol in his blood than is probably healthy.

He can't go to any doctor west side like this. Sausage could probably patch him up. Can he even drive all the way to his house?

Where else can fWhip go?

Gem will drag him to the hospital against his will. Pearl too. Jimmy's not talking to him.

Sausage it is. The best chance of no hospitals.

He somehow managed to drive his terrible rental car to the right neighbourhood. He's pretty sure he got the right house. The window he told his charming brother to open was open...

He barely squeezes through the damn thing. Was it always this tiny? He thought as he hit the white floor tile. Wasn't Sausage's like tan brown?

Scott was having a lovely evening if anyone asked. Why would being stood up on a date, not even a first date with that particular jerk, ruin his evening?

Why would his brother sending a wedding invite upset him? He was simply sad Xor could not deliver it in person. Wedding planning had to be eating a lot of his time.

Why would his favourite take-out place be closed this particular night for incentivisation upset him?

Sitting alone on his nice, comfy couch. Under a soft, cosy blanket. Eating terrible pizza, fries and bourbon-vanilla ice cream and chasing it with some terrible soda. A perfectly normal evening in his opinion. Everyone should have an evening like that from time to time.

*THUD*

Scott almost spilt all his popcorn when something hit his kitchen tiles. Not thinking much. With a nearby broom, he went to check the noise. He did not want to draw his neighbours' attention.

All too happy people. Surely hiding something terrible behind those fake smiles. Especially the two handsome guys on his left. Serial killer level of perfect and happy.

In the kitchen, under the window. Luckily there was nothing there since Scott sometimes used the window as a convenient way to drop his groceries. Was a man. Not too tall a man with ginger hair who definitely did not fit the neighborhood. "Hello? Sir? Are you okay? Should I call an ambulance?" Scott asked, poking him with his broom.

"No hospital..." The man groaned and passed out. Great.

With a shaking breath, Scott decided to be stupid and help the man. It's not like his day could get any better than it already was...

He started by rearranging his position. Carefully and gently. It's been ages since he graduated med school. And almost as long since he worked in healthcare. But he still remembered some stuff. And had some stuff.

With the man in a better position and with no confirmed broken bones or damage to the head. No lumps or bumps. He retrieved the old bag of med tools.

He made sure to keep the tools in top condition. And just recently went through it to replace what was no longer good—an old habit.

"I'm sorry it's to help you," he apologised before cutting stranger's undershirt open. It was tough fabric but nothing good medical shears couldn't deal with.

Four bullet wounds instantly jumped into his mind. He was on the east side... Likely didn't live there. Maybe... No time for that.

He cleaned the wounds, thankfully not too deep. He gently removed the bullets as well as he could without any assistance or making the wounds worse. Once he was sure it was all good he stitched them and a few cuts as clean as he could.

What was he to do with a stranger on his kitchen floor now? They were clearly a mercenary, judging by their clothes and weapons. Probably knew someone in the area. Went to the wrong door due to his injuries.

For now, Scott pulled up a stool. Moved all his sharp things out stranger's reach. Got him a pillow. The floor tiles were not good to lie on.

And waited with his sharpest scalpel. He didn't have to wait long. Mercenaries tended to be tough.

"Ugh... Saus..." The mercenary groaned, sitting up and froze when he noticed Scott.

"I think you got the wrong house, I removed the bullets, cleaned the wounds and stitched them," Scott explained, slowly, carefully. Fully aware no one on this side could know how to properly deal with billet wounds. Especially a mercenary. But he already helped and at least for now had the upper hand. And the man's kind of pretty. And Scott's evening was crappy enough.

"Oh... I'm sorry for the intrusion then... I... ugh... my head..." the mercenary fumbled with his words. He didn't even try to sit up. Good. Scott thought.

"You probably shouldn't move too much," Scott hummed. It was really bad actually. His random stranger was quite pretty. And Scott had a weakness for pretty guys. "You can stay if you promise to not kill me," he had no idea why he offered. Maybe he didn't want to spend the rest of the evening alone.

"I'd hate to be a bother, my..." the mercenary tried with a polite smile. Cute.

"It's not, and I'd feel bad if I saw an ambulance dragging you out next door if you faint," masking attraction with professionalism, he tells himself.

Somehow he manages to convince the mercenary to stay with him. Or fWhip as he introduced himself after Scott settled him in the living room with a glass of water and an ice pack for his bruised ribs. They had a pretty fun evening all things considered. fWhip stayed in Scott's guest room. And in the morning, after a fast check-up, left.

Scott was a bit bummed that fWhip left without leaving him his number. But there was no helping it. He could only hope he'd bump into fWhip at some point. He was in the area for a reason. He likely went into the wrong window in pain-induced delirium.

A week later. Scott was cleaning his house when his doorbell rang. Not something that happens every day. Not without someone announcing previously they would be coming. So obviously he opened it as quickly as he could.

To a big bouquet of roses. And hiding behind it mercenary fWhip. "A... a thank you for not calling the ambulance," he said, offering Scott the roses and an almost completely hidden by them box of very nice chocolates.

"Oh... Um thank you, you didn't have to... Would you like some tea?" Scott could not believe his eyes and ears. Quite frankly was in a mild state of panic and shock. And it got worse when fWhip was accepted. "Sorry about the mess, I was doing a little cleaning up," he chuckled nervously.

Two years later, Scott was sitting on his couch, waiting for his husband to come back from 'work conference' sighing as he heard commotion from the kitchen. And grabbed his medical kit before going to patch whatever injuries fWhip brought back home.

#my stuff #my stories #empires smp #empiresshipping #fanfiction #empires fwhip #empires scott #scfwhip

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constantcrisis19 · 1 year

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Stay With Me - Part 1

Daryl Dixon x GN S/O

AN: Just a bit of a heads up, if you like Carol then this might not be such a great fic to read because I do bash her character quite a bit in this. Sorry guys. Otherwise, feel free to read on!

Word Count: 2,306

Part 2

You blinked the stinging sweat out of your eyes, squinting against the blinding sun as you miserably trudged across the blacktop.

It was one of those blisteringly hot days that made you miss being able to sit inside your shitty apartment with the air conditioning cranked up as high as it could go as you sat on the couch and demolished a pint of delicious ice cream.

You sighed and adjusted the strap of your shoulder bag for the umpteenth time, lamenting the loss of that blissful cold as the sun beat down on you.

You could hear Daryl’s labored breathing as he walked next to you and -not wanting to be caught staring at your best friend a second time- you stubbornly kept your gaze on the road ahead of you, watching the air above the tarmac swim.

In an attempt to counter the heat, everyone had stripped down as much as possible while still remaining decent and Daryl turned out to be no exception. And, while he had admittedly held out longer than everyone else in the group, he did eventually cave under the sweltering heat.

Daryl had stiffly removed his shirt and vest before roughly stuffing both articles of clothing into his bag like they had personally offended him, leaving him bare chested.

You couldn’t help but stare at the man as he stripped, his tanned skin glistening under the golden rays of light and putting his various scars on full display, the tension in his frame easing when it became apparent that no one was going to draw attention to the marks on his back.

His shaggy hair dripped with sweat as he wandered down the road, your eyes tracking the drop as it slithered down his exposed collarbones and chest, finally prying your gaze away when it began to roll over his solid abdomen, getting dangerously close to the waistband of his low hanging jeans.

Unlike everyone else, Daryl managed to do the impossible and make heatstroke look attractive.

Your eyes rose from Daryl’s body and back up to his face, your cheeks reddening in a way that had nothing to do with sunburn when you met his gaze, his head subtly tilted towards you. You jerked your head around and forced your eyes forward, not daring to look at him again lest you make him uncomfortable as embarrassment flooded your system.

You let out a slow breath at the memory and lifted the bottom of your thin henley in order to wipe at your sweaty face with the fabric, revealing the soaked, gray tank top that you had on underneath. You heard someone snort and dropped the shirt, your gaze finding Glenn -who was walking a few paces to your left- and raised a brow at him in question.

Glenn shook his head with a secretive smile, unhelpfully refusing to tell you what he found so damn funny, and you felt a brief spike of irritation shoot through you, the horrid weather and the uncomfortable sensation of your wet clothes sticking to your overheated skin making you less tolerant than usual.

“Shut up, Glenn.” You snapped half-heartedly, gaining a breathless laugh of surprise from Maggie at your unexpected attitude, before you rolled your eyes and turned your attention back to your shirt.

“What did I do?” You heard Glenn ask Maggie incredulously as you frowned down at the damp spot that wiping your face had left on the fabric, lightly brushing the pads of your fingers over the darkened material.

You felt a pang of loss as you stared at the ruined Henley, already grieving the loss of your favorite shirt since the odds of stumbling across a body of water to wash it in at this point was practically nonexistent, so -when it inevitably stained- you would have to get rid of it.

Then Daryl was lightly tapping at your shoulder with his knuckles and, when you looked over at him, he gestured to the road in front of you, bringing your attention to the fact that everyone had stopped.

You slowed to a halt and stared in shock at the back end of a traffic jam, a cold shiver rolling down your spine as you looked out at the sea of rusted, rundown vehicles.

You tried to ignore the sinking feeling in your gut but it was impossible. Something about this place was bothering you, but you couldn't quite place your finger on what.

Rick, who was apparently just as hesitant about entering unknown territory as you were, tilted his head as his narrowed gaze scanned over the mess before he lifted one of his hands to wave you and Daryl forward.

“I need you two to scout ahead, make sure it’s safe.” Rick stated when you came into hearing range and you shared a look with Daryl before giving a sharp nod, turning to make your way into the graveyard of cars, being sure to stay low and quiet as you weaved through the mess.

After Terminus, no one was about to underestimate another seemingly innocent area.

As you prowled through the abandoned vehicles, you quickly realized that the jam just kept going with no end in sight, so you weren’t surprised when Daryl signaled for the both of you to turn back with a whistle only about ten minutes into your journey.

You let out a sigh and pivoted in order to jog back, Daryl catching up with you before you exited the traffic jam, the two of you trotting over to where Rick was standing.

“Well, the good news is that there’s nothing suspicious. Though I still don’t trust it.” You said in lieu of a greeting, scuffing the tip of your shoe on the road. You watched as Rick’s brow rose at your blunt statement, the man glancing over at Daryl as if to confirm your observations, Daryl meeting Rick’s gaze before nodding.

“It goes on for a while, we didn’t get ta the other end.” Daryl added quietly, shifting from foot to foot as he spoke, his narrowed gaze darting over to the traffic jam blocking the group’s way, as if he was expecting something to happen.

You couldn’t fault Daryl for his paranoia since you also had a bad feeling about the situation as a whole.

“Give me a moment.” Rick asked politely, his expression thoughtful as he turned away from the two of you to stare out at the packed road.

The moment that you were both dismissed and stepped away from where Rick was contemplating his options, Carol trotted over and caught Daryl by the arm with a smile, halting the man in his tracks.

You barely held back a scowl as you watched the woman rush to catch and hold the man's attention, though you unfortunately weren't surprised at the turn of events since this kind of behavior wasn't exactly unusual for her.

It wouldn't be the first or last time that Carol felt entitled to Daryl's time.

Daryl resisted Carol’s insistent tugging for a moment, his eyes darting away from the woman who was currently trying to draw him away and over to where you were standing. And, upon realizing that you had his attention, you crossed your arms over your chest and shrugged in response to his silent question, feigning indifference.

You stubbornly resisted the urge to fidget as he scanned over your forcefully casual posture and, fortunately enough for you, it didn’t take him long to find whatever it was that he had been looking for, the man giving you a sharp nod before finally allowing Carol to drag him to the fringes of the milling group.

You watched as they were swallowed up by the small crowd, allowing a frown to take over your features when Carol’s hand lingered on Daryl’s arm even though they had come to a stop and there was no reason to hold onto him anymore.

You startled when a hand dropped onto your shoulder, your head snapping around as you looked for the threat, your hand simultaneously dropping to the knife you had holstered on your hip.

Your hand hesitated next to the leather sheath when your gaze met familiar ice blue eyes before your hand dropped back to your side, your lips pressing into an unimpressed line when you met Rick's amused expression.

You rolled your eyes in response to his teasing look, allowing his touch as you stuffed your hands into the pockets of your ratty jeans. Then, keeping his hand firmly on your shoulder, he called for the group's attention.

“We’ll be going through the traffic jam.” He stated confidently and, when no one immediately began to protest, he relaxed a little, losing a bit of the tension in his shoulders. “Take anything that we can use and be sure to be on the lookout for anything suspicious.”

After he was finished with his instructions he easily handled the various concerns that several members had brought up, ensuring that everyone knew what to do just in case things went sideways.

Once the questions died down, Rick took his hand off your shoulder and stepped up next to you, his ice blue eyes scanning the crowd to find Daryl before giving the man a sharp nod.

I followed Rick's gaze over to where Daryl was standing just in time to watch the scout dip his chin in return before taking point with Carol, leading the group toward the edge of the traffic jam.

You opted to stay behind with Rick, taking up the rear with your appointed leader and walking with the man in a companionable silence.

Unfortunately for you though, Rick was much more perceptive than he had any right to be and he brought up a topic you’d been desperately trying to avoid thinking about.

“I’ve noticed that you seem very uncomfortable when Daryl and Carol are together. Would you like to talk about it?” Rick asked and your gaze cut over to him, brows furrowed.

You glanced around, spotting Daryl looking back every so often from his place at the front of the group, but otherwise everyone else was occupied with scavenging supplies from the vehicles surrounding them.

“Keep your voice down. Jesus.” You snapped as you slowed your pace, getting some distance between the two of you and Tara, who was walking in front of you with Michonne.

The last thing you wanted was for anything said during your conversation to get back to Daryl because -knowing him- he'd take everything out of context and engage you in yet another screaming match.

It wasn’t exactly a secret that the two of you have had quite a few intense arguments fueled by miscommunication since meeting him. Daryl just always seemed to assume the worst.

When it became apparent that Rick wasn’t going to drop his current line of questioning, you let loose a resigned sigh and told Rick that, while you personally believed that Carol wasn't good for Daryl, you respected his desire to spend time with her and didn't hold it against him.

Though, that being said, any bad blood that was between yourself and Carol wasn't due to me being jealous of the other women's friendship with Daryl, but rather Carol's intense envy of my close bond with the man.

Rick took the information in stride and you had the jarring realization that the reason behind the man's sudden interest in bringing up your own relationship with Daryl was most likely because Carol had said something to him, and the mere thought of the other woman trying to sabotage you had your blood boiling.

Sure, you hadn't been with the group for as long as Carol, but you hoped that Rick wouldn't take her word over yours just because of something as shallow as seniority.

You stopped Rick with a hand on his chest, his previously thoughtful expression morphing into one of concern as he took in your defensive body language.

You and Rick stood together in a brief, mutual silence as the group kept on, the gap between the both of you and the others growing with every second that went by.

“Daryl always asks where you are on the rare occasion that he isn’t with you. Usually he just goes around from person to person until someone can give him your location.” Rick stated conversationally and when you didn't immediately respond, Rick looked you right in the eye before continuing. “Now I’ve known Daryl for a long time and he’s only ever behaved that way with you.”

Before you could even begin to process what that meant, a low, impatient whistle pierced the air, drawing your attention to Daryl, who -upon realizing that the two of you were falling behind- had stopped the group and was looking back at you and Rick with an unimpressed stare.

Rick waved him off with a good-natured grin, the two of you sharing a look before beginning to walk again, catching up with the group. Once you and Rick had rejoined the others, Rick gripped Daryl’s shoulder and gave a firm squeeze before letting go, the man then turning to you in order to nudge you towards where Daryl was standing.

When you shot him a questioning look, the man smiled before speaking. “Y/n, why don’t you and Daryl go on ahead and make sure the way is clear.”

And, despite being unsure of what angle Rick was playing, you decided to just go along with his plan and join Daryl, expertly ignoring the way Carol's face twisted up in distaste at Daryl being paired off with you -as per usual- as the two of you prowled into the mess of broken down vehicles.

#the walking dead #twd #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #season 5 #on the road #mutual pining #friends to lovers #jealousy #oblivious reader #rick ships it #part 1 of 2

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