#ALSO NURSE WAS ON ICE SO THANK GOD

[nuge]

just some guy

[jambalaya-enthusiast]

Can I ask for Headcanons/Scenario with the crew members where it's a normal tulpar haul. But the reader is an extremely experienced captain of another ship,and they're older,more built and more strict. Like think 6'7,built like an extreme weightlifter,very classy and formal.

And they're on the tulpar to look after everything because it's an incredibly important shipment? What would the crew members reactions be to the reader appearing very strict,no-nonsense,cold and condescending. But once they get close, the reader is actually very nice.

also can it be a male reader? Thank you! I love your writing. <3

Melting the Ice away.

Crew Members x Male! Older! Strict! Reader. [ Reader is a high ranking captain of another pony express ship ]

a/n; this ask was basically buried deep in my inbox,i was just scrolling through and found it.

Tulpar! Captain,Curly.

Oh boy,and they used to say that curly was the most able employee at pony express. Clearly they lied,Cause LOOK. AT. YOU.

For the first time in his career,he felt intimidated.

The way you basically hovered over him,gave him chills ngl.

He admires you so fucking hard, your efficiency ,your capability, and your experienced nature. you need something? Grant Curly is on it!... He found himself trying to... Impress you???

He was basically always looking for your approval at things,no matter how small or trivial it was. He needed your opinion.

He was also starting to wonder wether or not the feeling of intimidation... was rather something else.

He is definitely feelin a lil somethin somethin.

When he actually got to know you,and saw how kind and sweet you actually were. This guy just fell,he fell guys,he just fell.

Co-Pilot, Jimmy.

Manz is PISSED.

He is freaking LIVID,as if Curly wasn't already enough,bossing him around.

He'll never ever admit it to anyone,but he was basically scared of you,of how... Domineering you were.

He is jealous of how put together you were,always effortlessly classy.

He couldn't decide whether he wanted to be you,or wanted to be with you.

He didn't even notice it,but you found him staring,so intently that it actually concerned you.

Whenever you would try to interact with him he'll make up an excuse and run away.

But he,too wanted to get on your good side.

He'll die before ever admitting it,but he was craving your praise so fucking bad.

He is just dying on the inside,he desperately wants to hear you call him a 'Good Boy'.

Maybe he'll have to impress you some other way,who knows?

Nurse, Anya.

Let's be fr,the first time Anya saw you,her heart skipped a bit. I mean c'mon! Can you blame her? She doesn't see handsome, capable, disciplined male colleagues on the regular,does she?

Cut her some slack for staring! She can't help herself for wanting to admire you!

Like the others,she also tries her best to live up to your expectations,to be on your good list. She tries to make sure all your needs are met,(which aren't even bothersome,you prefer to do things your own anyway) but she always insists upon helping you out!

You began to notice that no matter who else wasn't around,Anya was always there in the corner of your eye. Was she... Following you around?

By Gods,she can't help it! No other person on the ship is as pleasant to be around as you! She feels at ease when she's with you. And you don't mind.

When she finally gets to know the real you, the butterflies in her stomach settle down into something even more soothing and calming.

Her puppy crush is beginning to grow,maybe someday in the near future, she'll ask you for things, beyond the professional limit.

Mechanic, Swansea.

He is just glad that there is someone on this godforsaken ship who has the screws in their head straight.

He does feel a bit relaxed that he doesn't have to worry about things going wrong with you onboard.

He sometimes has you deal with Daisuke instead. More relaxation time for him.

He can count on you. And he likes you the best on the ship.

Doesn't shy away from praising you in front of others.

Intern,Daisuke.

"WOWZER MISTER YOU'RE SO COOL!".

He was a bit scared of you at first,but quickly warmed up to how refreshing you were.

You were strict,yes. But not as much as Swansea. You never scolded him,or complained about him to others.

Instead you always, efficiently taught him how to do things properly.

The way you spoke,the way you presented yourself. He didn't find it strange how his other, older, colleagues were swooning over you either.

Grew to like you the best on the ship as well,always right by your side.

He does think you're hot,but is intimidated pretty easily.

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Hiii!! Can I make a request? Its kinda long tho so I totally understand if you don't wanna write it !! :)

so basically what I had in mind is rhys' sister!reader x az, she got kidnapped by hybern on the day rhys's mother died and everyone had thought his sister died too but she didn't she was kidnapped and her memories were erased. After the war with hybern the ic runs into her and shes all bloody and injured because turns out she was fighting hybern soldiers as well because she finally saw an opportunity to be free. As soon as rhys saw her he recognises her but before he could even utter a word, she faints, so they take her to night court and nurses her back to health. When she wakes up she gets really emotional when she sees rhys because she feels like she should know him but she doesn't cuz she doesn't have any memories, later they get helion to fix her memories and there's a very emotional brother sister reunion. Az finds out he's her mate but he doesn't tell her and rhys is very protective of reader cuz he just got her back so he forbids az from dating her or anything, but she doesn't know that so she thinks az doesn't like her back so she's devastated over that. I didn't think of what would happen after that so you can come up with the rest but pleeeeeaaasee give az and reader a happy ending. Also can you include that reader had dreams of az the way rhys had dreams of feyre? 🥹

Thank you and I hope you have a good day!! <33

I switched it ever so slightly, hope you’ll still enjoy it!🤍🫧Part II

Lost and found

It’s your hair he sees first. There’s something in the onyx gleam that screams familiar. That is different from any other shade of black. Rhys’s mother always said that they bore all shades of the night sky in their hair. As a gift from the gods. It wasn’t pitch black, no. There was depth. Stars even. They gleamed. You gleamed. He nearly sank to his knees once you turned your bloodied face towards him. It felt as if looking in the mirror. He had pictured you in his head. Had made Feyre paint you. Paint you how he imagined you would have looked all grown up. If you had that chance if you were still with him. His little northern star. And you were here now. In front of him. Sward in hand as if you weren’t sure if you were supposed to stab him or leave him be. Shaking and so frail. Line Feyre was. Just like Rhys had found his mate. Broken and confused. Unsure of anything. Jumpy and scared. “Yn”, it’s a whisper but from the way your body shivers Rhys knows that the name speaks to you. Does his voice speak to you? Do you even remember? “I just want to be free”, you mutter, “Help me get free”. Rhys watches your body sag and his legs move forward before he can even think. Arms reaching for your body. Desperate to break your fall. To save you from this at least in hopes this would somehow make a difference.

Rhys sits by your side from the moment Madja lets him in. She’s doubtful about you waking up soon. Even more doubtful if it’s good for Rhys to be there. And a part of him knows it too but he can’t help it. It’s as if he’s pulled to you. By the need to see you. To know that he hasn’t just imagined you. Your eyes flutter open after a week of nothing but shallow breathing. Your body feels heavy and achy. The walls surrounding you are unfamiliar. But there are no shackles. No ropes. You’re in a big bed. With silk sheets around you. And then your eyes land on a male sitting in the chair. He’s watching you. But watching you as if observing a wild animal that might flee after a move too sudden.

“How are you feeling?”, he speaks up and his voice alone scratches something deep inside your brain. Something you should know. But you don’t. You can’t reach. “I’m Rhys. You’re in my court. You’re safe”, he continues, leaning in slightly, moving to reach for your hand that you quickly pull closer to your chest. You see the hurt flash in his eyes. But it disappears almost immediately. He bares your features. His eyes are your eyes and that’s enough to make your heart pick up. Is he family? A far down-the-line relative?

“You look at me like you know me…”, you mutter, feeling your eyes burn, “but i don’t know you”. Rhys takes a shaky breath and you could swear his hands are trembling. But he smiles regardless, “That’s okay, we have time”. You watch him for a moment, a stranger in front of you. They said that you had no one. There was no one out there for you. “What if I don’t want to know you?”, that’s a blow that leaves a permanent mark on his face, the frown line between his eyebrows. “That’s okay too. I won’t force you”, Rhys’s voice grows shaky, “All you need to know is that you are safe. I and my people will keep you safe. You told me that you wanted to be free. You’re free now”. He stands up quietly. Pushing the chair to the side. You catch a glimpse of a female standing at the door as he moves to leave the room. The door isn’t fully closed when a sob slips past his lips. She embraces him and it’s all muffled by the closed door.

“She’s wiped clean”, Helion’s words send another blow at Rhys’s chest. “There might be bits of her past there but… this will have to be gradual Rhys, if it all was taken from her, getting all the memories back might fry her brain out”, Helion crosses his arms over his chest watching you in one of his gardens. Hand outstretched to one of his Pegasus. He remembered the little girl. Sat on his knee. Mischievous little thing, he had called you. Now it felt like looking at a ghost. “But is there even a slither of hope?”, Rhys asks, desperately trying to cling to the future where you would recognize him. Helion sighed, “Take this advice from me, someone older than you”, turning to face Rhys, whose troubled face had grown ashy over the past month. “Creat memories with her from now. Build her up from nothing and that alone might make her remember” But how could he? How could anyone just wipe out the grief and terror? The feeling of losing someone and then finding them back once more.

Azriel had sunk to his knees in the room you had laid unconscious for a week. He knew you were mates even then. Both young and careless. He remembered your first kiss. Rushed and messy in one of Rhys’s father’s stables. You had pulled him out. Had been his haven ever since your mother had taken both him and Cass in. Losing you had messed with his head. He had mourned you just the same. Had closed off his heart for anyone. Meaningless fling got easier with time but he still caught himself thinking of you. Calling out your name. Leaving the females snarling at him.

Azriel thought that glimpses of cells. Of you locked up. Scared and crying were nothing but a fickle of imagination. He saw you drawing night skies. He saw you kill. But now he knew that it had been your unconsciousness calling to him. Zaps of bond binding you both connecting momentarily. He hated himself. He hated that he did nothing. That he had let go. Had given up. But they had found the body. Berried someone. Someone who wasn’t you. Azriel only visited once. That one time and then he erased himself out of the equation. Because maybe it was better that way. Because he wasn’t worthy of your love. He couldn’t protect you after all.

Rhys was happy with that choice too. It was petty but he didn’t want to share you with anyone. Not that he had you. Any part of you. Because nothing changed. He talked. Told you stories but you just shook your head. You didn’t know him. You didn’t trust him. And nothing he did made any breakthrough.

It was the night Azriel had accidentally walked into the study where you and Rhys were. Ready to drop off the reports he had written for the week’s work. His black shirt is slightly unbuttoned. Sleeves rolled up. Your eyes had drifted away from the painting towards the man standing in the hallway. Man your eyes always seemed to find. Man who had been avoiding you ever since you got here. It painted you slightly. It was the only person you seemed to want to reach but he was the only one keeping the furthest away.

Your eyes landed on his arms. The dim light dancing on the black ink snaking up his left arm. The book you held slipped past your fingers. Clattering to the floor with a thud. “Y/n, dear, is everything alright?”, Rhys was in front of you in an instant. Worried face searching yours. “Your left shoulder”, you muttered, pointing at Azriel. He halted in his movement. The handful of papers stuck midair. “Show me your left shoulder”, you muttered.

Azriel’s eyes looked up at you, “What for?”, it was colder. He was protecting whatever was there. Holding onto the last part of you he had. You stepped past Rhys. “I know that… pattern”, you muttered. “It’s old Illyrian”, Rhys cut in but Azriel only lifted his hand. “Please, I…”, the fuzziness around you ripped as you reached for your dress, yanking the sleeve off, bearing your shoulders to Azriel. His jaw clenched, as he looked away for a moment. And then he ripped his shirt open. And there it was. The same pattern all across his shoulder as well.

Taking a shaky breath you let your head fall into your hands, “You chose it…” A light sob slipped past Azriel’s lips, “I did”, he nodded watching you. “Because you were a bitch about it”, turning to Rhys you pointed a finger at him. “You matted my baby sister behind my back?”, Rhys hissed, the jumble of emotions was making everyone drown. “Mom knew about it, she approved”, you whispered, “Where’s Mom?” Your eyes looked up at Rhys. He slowly shook his head. Another wave of flashes floats through you. You reached back in a frantic breath, “Where are my wings?” An angry tear slipped down Rhys’s face. “Where are they? Where is she?”, you looked among them. Feeling panic slowly drowning you. “Come here”, Azriel pulled at your head, bringing your face to his chest. “No, don’t smother me”, you pushed against him, but Azriel held on tight, holding your shaking form, feeling the burning gaze of his high lord, “I’ve got you. It will settle. Just breathe with me”.

[darkbluekies]

jerry x idol reader (any gender but preferably fem reader)

reader is a super famous and beloved by many (including jerry) and this causes reader to have some stalkers (including jerry jajaja)

anyways jerry is walking home one day and sees someone getting kidnaped and was going to just leave and then *gasp* its her baby girl idol reader but oh nooo the person trying to kidnap reader had knocked them out so jerry saves the day (yippee!!) and help nurse them back to heath but oh no now that jerry has them why would she let them go??????

SORRY FOR BAD ENGLISH also sorry if you have already done this

Starstruck

Female!mafia!yandere x fem!kpop!idol reader

Summary: Jerry gets to finally have her little kpop girl to herself and will never let her go

Warnings: kidnapping, mentions of starvation, disordered eating, faking death, yandere, mafia, mentions of sexualisation, handcuffs, humiliation, self hate, loneliness, drugging

Word count: 4.2k

The earbuds are deep into her ears, blasting your groups new single. It must be her favorite comeback yet. You came back with a bright bubblegum concept for the spring, with the song being everything Jerry rejects. You’re the rapper, with the sweetest voice Jerry has ever heard. You’ve been called ‘siren voice’ on numerous fan accounts and in articles. She can’t help but grin ear to ear while fiddling with the phone. You’re her wallpaper, her profile picture on social media and her photocard in her phone case. She has been to your concerts, your fan meets, your birthday cafe’s and — thanks to her contacts — been able to find out where you stay for overseas promotions, your phone number, your siblings names and countless other things that Jerry loves to keep for herself. When she’s tired, she watches your variety shows and vlogs, often falling asleep to them when she feels lonely.

Everyone around her knows about her love for your group — and especially you — and no one dares to talk badly about it. Jerry, the gang’s coldest and rudest member is soft for a little kpop girl and they can’t help but let her have that. They even give her your merchandise on her birthday. 

You’re the same age but you couldn’t be more different. You are humble, sweet and full of charms … Jerry is a murderer, involved with a criminal gang and unpleasant. She has talked to you a couple of times during fan meets, but only for a minute at a time, and you’ve always been so nice to her. You’ve admired her tattoos and thanked her for gifts. You’ve held her hands and smiled at her. Not many people do that to Jerry. Most people give her disgusted looks and stay as far away from her as possible … but not you. You’re the best person Jerry has ever come across … and she’s just … Jerry. 

Unfortunately, she isn’t the only one that loves you. More people have figured out how wonderful you are and have started to follow you wherever you go. Jerry had believed that she was your only stalker, but was proven wrong when an article came out about a person breaking into your group’s dorm and scaring you and your members. The police caught him, but didn’t do anything about it. Jerry took things in her own hands and, together with a ‘friend’ of hers, killed him. She enjoyed the feeling of his blood on her hands and is certain to do it again. As long as you are safe, she will continue to kill for you. 

She’s next in line. Jerry can barely understand that she’s going to talk to you again. She has a small goodie bag in her shaking hands. Damn those hands, exposing her. She isn’t nervous when following enemies through dark alleyways, killing them ruthlessly … but she feels like she’s going to faint when talking to you. She doesn’t want to talk to your members, only you. But she doesn’t want you to think that she is rude, so she always manages some cold smalltalk. 

She talks with your members for a minute each before she finally reaches you. Oh God, you. Your pink hair makes you glow and your bright smile could melt Jerry’s ice cold heart. 

“Hi!” you gasp in surprise and wave at her, almost doing jazzhands. “I remember you!”

Jerry feels her heart stop. 

“D-Do you?” she asks and hits herself for stammering. 

She sits down in front of you. 

“It’s you with the tattoos!” you smile. 

“I wanted to give this to you”, Jerry says and puts the small goodie bag on the table. 

“Really? For me?” You pout. “You’re so nice. 

You open the bag and pulls out a little bag charm in the shape of a sun. You smile, touched at the sweet gesture, and meet Jerry’s eyes. 

“It’s so cute, thank you so much!” you say. “I love it, I will wear it all the time.”

You start to admire the little plush sun. Jerry stares at you with emotions she can’t explain. She feels guilty for looking at you, yet so very thankful. In her darkest moments, you have been there without even realizing, but she pities you that you have to be the one she’s obsessed with. You, who never wants anything to do with things Jerry does, and Jerry who involves you without you knowing. But Jerry is so happy that you exist, that you can give her a few moments of escape from her cruel and dark life.

You suddenly frown.

“Why are you crying?” you ask and hurry to take her hands. “Don’t cry.”

Jerry hurries to dry the tears she didn’t even notice that she was spilling.  Your soft hand comes up to wipe one of her tears.

“Don't cry, it's okay”, you smile. 

“Thank you”, Jerry whispers.

Fucking hell she doesn't deserve you.

She picks up her phone to see that you’ve posted a new selfie on Instagram. Your strawberry pink hair brightens up your face, making you even cuter than you already are. She presses the heart icon, but frowns. It’s near two am, you should sleep, not post gorgeous selfies on Instagram. The pic must have been taken earlier today, youre wesring the same clothes and hairstyle as you did during yhe fansign, but that gives you no reason to publish them now. If you could have waited until two am, you could have waited until the morning. But, nonetheless, Jerry smiles. It was as if you posted the picture specifically for her. She’s on her way home, walking the dark streets of Seoul all by herself. Maybe you knew that she needed a bit of cheering up?

Muffled screaming cuts through the headphones and Jerry glances up, seeing two men trying to pull a woman with them. The darkness hides their faces. Jerry decides to ignore them and take another way home, not wanting anything to do with other people’s business, but suddenly notices the familiar pink hair. She takes a few steps closer and freezes with realization that the pink haired lady about to get pulled into a black van is none other than her little kpop girl!

Jerry pulls up her gun from her belt and hurries over. She doesn’t want to shoot them in front of you, but she knows that it will be enough to scare them away. These men are just normal pathetic stalkers, not real criminals.

She wastes no time trying to talk or intimidate them. One of the men tries to attack her, but he isn’t prepared for Jerry’s many years of martial arts training. She's quicker, smaller, more precise. As soon as they're down, she grabs you by the arm and runs. You're crying as you run beside her. And suddenly, you fall.

 “Oh, shit!” Jerry gasps and hurries to catch you. “You can't faint here!”

She sinks down beside the building's wall with you in her arms, breathing heavily. Jerry has never seen you this close before and she can't stop staring. She knows that you are gorgeous, but you're unbelievable in reality. Jerry stands up and picks you up in her arms before starting to walk towards her apartment. She can't leave you alone in the middle of the street … and she most certainly won't give you back to your agency. They can't protect you like she can, she thinks, just watch what just happened and all the other times you've been close to harm. Jerry will make sure nothing ever happens to you again.

As soon as she comes into her apartment, she locks the door behind her and carries you to her bedroom, places you down into her bed, tucking you in. Jerry stares at you with wide eyes as she slowly backs away from the bed. You are in her bed …she never thought that this would happen … but here you are. Her little kpop girl.

Jerry scoffs with a smile and runs her hand through her black shoulder length hair. 

She fumbles for her phone and calls her boss.

“What is it, Jerry?” he asks before she has the time to say anything.

“You will never guess what just happened”, Jerry smiles. 

“What?”

“Let me turn on video chat …” she presses the little icon with shaking fingers and directs the camera towards your face. “Do you see that? Do you see who I have?”

Her boss breaks out into a smile.

“No fucking way you kidnapped her”, he chuckles. “You're unbelievable. Do you think she will fall in love with you? After you've kidnapped her?”

“I saved her, she will thank me.”

“I doubt that you will let her go.”

“Of course I won't. How am I going to be able to let her go back to her shit company? They don't even protect her properly and they mistreat her! Besides, I will save her from all of those creeps that she has as fans.”

“Are you really going to pull her into this world? How nice is that, hm?”

Jerry feels a spark ignite in her chest.

“Mind your own fucking business, will you?” she snarls. “I don't tell you how to deal with your private life.” With that said she hangs up.

Anger is still bubbling in her chest, but when she looks at you, it all disappears. She sighs sadly. I'm sorry, Y/N. I will make sure nothing happens to you. I promise.

She brings a chair to the bed and sits down on it, facing you to make sure that she can reassure you when you wake up, so that you don't have to be afraid. She has been knocked out and woken up in strange places multiple times and knows how terrifying that can be, especially if it's one’s first time.

She's awoken by someone poking her arm and hurries to sit up.

“Fuck, I fell asleep”, she mumbles.

She looks up and meets your terrified eyes. Your entire body is trembling.

“W-Where-?” you stammer.

“Oh, right!” Jerry gasps. “I saved you from those two men that tried to kidnap you.”

“You …” your eyes widen, and you look almost … relieved? “It's you! I'm happy to see a familiar face, at least …”

“You don't have to be afraid, I'm not going to hurt you … if that's what you think.”

You nod carefully.

“Where are my things …?” you ask carefully.

Jerry frowns. You hadn't had anything.

“I think you must have dropped them”, she says.

Which, if anything, is better for her.

“What time is it?” you ask. “I have to go back…”

Jerry freezes. It's still in the middle of the night, and she doesn't want to let you go!

“It's still night and you're shaken up, you should stay here … at least til the morning”, Jerry says. “Lat down again, get some sleep. Or are you hungry? Should I order some food for us?”

“I'm okay … thank you, though.”

“Yeah, yeah, o-of course.”

That fucking stuttering. She wants to hit herself.

In the morning, you meet Jerry out in the living room. Jerry has barely been able to sleep because of the extreme excitement, scared that if she falls asleep she'll wake up and realize that all of this is a dream.

“I realized that I never got to know your name”, you say and sit down in front of the couch. “I have talked to you multiple times but never known what your name is.”

“You can call me Jerry”, Jerry says.

“‘Can call me’? Isn't that your real name?”

“Well, I kind of changed it.” 

She clears her throat and picks up her phone, before quickly hiding it again. Your photocard. Too late. You've already reached for her phone with a smile.

“Is that me?” you ask excitedly. 

Jerry looks away in embarrassment.

“You weren't supposed to see that”, she mutters. 

“Oh, it's from this comeback! You have our most recent album?”

Jerry got herself seven copies to get your photocard. Damn your company only giving one photocard per album.

“Yeah”, she mumbles.

“Do you want me to sign it for you?” you ask.

“Shit, really?”

“Of course. You helped me.”

Jerry gets up from the couch. You follow her into the bedroom again. Jerry opens her wardrobe where your albums are hidden. She's afraid to be broken into and have someone realize her obsession with you. She wouldn't be able to handle the embarrassment.

“Look, you have them all”, you smile and bend down to pick up a paper fan with your face on it from your debut era. “Oh. You even have my merchandise! You must be a big fan.”

“I have been following you for a while”, Jerry admits as she picks up the right album. 

Both literally and figuratively.

“We are the same age”, she says. “I found you when I was still in high school.”

“That's years ago!” you gasp.

Jerry shrugs and hands you the album. While you sign it, she stares at you, admiring your bare face. You never show it on camera, always saying how ugly you are without makeup. That must be the most bullshit thing Jerry has ever heard.

“Here”, you smile, giving the album back.

“Thanks”, Jerry says and smiles slightly. She clears her throat, gathers herself. “We should order food.”

Jerry walks back to the living room. You follow. Both of you sit down on the couch and Jerry pulls out her phone. 

“Should we order some fried chicken?” Jerry asks. “Might not be the ideal breakfast food but who cares?”

“Oh, uhm … I'm actually on a diet”, you mumble embarrassedly. “My company wouldn't like me eating that …”

“Your company isn't here now.”

Jerry knows that you love fried chicken, and also know how much your company hates that you love it. 

The chicken delivery arrives twenty minutes later, no matter what you say. You stare at it with guilt in your eyes.

“I really shouldn't”, you mumble, forming fists to avoid taking one.

“Don't you want one?” Jerry asks, holding one crispy chicken sign in front of your face.

“Yes, I do, but-”

“Your company won't know. They have corrupted your brain. Take it, it won't kill you.”

You sigh and give in, taking the chicken wing. Jerry smirks and holds out a sauce packet.

“Poor little Y/N never gets to eat edible food”, she cooes. “They're starving you.”

“I know …”, you whisper and lower your eyes. “But I can't do anything about it. I will need to go back-”

“Wait a little more. I'm sure that there are a big commotion now, going now will only make things escalate. You will be bombarded by people.”

You sigh and nod.

The day goes by. You try to persuade Jerry to go back to your group, but she always responds with the same sentence: “Let's wait until tomorrow”. You've enjoyed Jerry’s company, to an extent. Something about her feels off, almost like the initial shock of having you here has been worn off and she has started to show her real colors. She doesn’t let you know what she’s working with or why she isn’t at home during the nights. Of course you’ve tried to sneak out during the nights, but she has locked the door from the outside and her apartment is way too high up for you to be able to climb out. You can see the entirety of Seoul from here. If only the people down on the street knew that you were trying to catch their attention. Jerry cut all internet connection. You have gotten to borrow her clothes, her bed and her shower products. You have eaten her food, drunk her drinks. 

Jerry comes home one night, finding you by the big windows in the living room, curled up against the glass, wearing her hoodie and sweatpants, crying. 

“Baby girl, what’s wrong?” she hurries to ask and runs over. 

Baby girl. The word makes you even more terrified than you already are. 

Jerry sinks down in front of her, wearing those black clothes of hers. Her black brows are furrowed as her hands grab a hold of your shoulders. 

“What is it?” she demands to know. 

“Let me go home!” you scream, unable to contain your emotions for any longer. “Let me go!”

Jerry’s face drops. Her grip on your shoulders tighten. 

“No, not a fucking chance”, she says firmly. “I’m not letting you go.”

Your eyes widen at how dark her voice sounds, much darker than you have ever heard it before. 

“You can’t leave me”, Jerry continues in the same voice as her grip tightens even harder. 

“Stop”, you plead, voice breaking. “You’re scaring me.”

Jerry lets go off you and stand up, looking around for something. When she walks into the kitchen, you hurry up from the floor and throw yourself towards the door. You hear Jerry gasp and soon, her arms wrap around you. What feels like a dishcloth gets pressed against your face. The cloth have been drenched in something. Your legs wobble, losing control, and Jerry sink down on the floor with you in her arms. You try ripping her hands from you, but you can't seem to form fists anymore, can't grip anything.

“Don't try”, she whispers in your ear. “It's no use.”

“I can't breathe”, you manage to get out in a weak, slurred tone. 

“I'm not killing you.”

You sob one last time before everything goes black. Jerry wants for a few seconds before removing the cloth. She holds you in her arms, letting your unconscious head rest on her shoulder. Your tear stained face makes her heart sink. She's so selfish for keeping you. You don't belong to someone like her. You don't belong in the world Jerry lives in, but she can't give you back now that she has gotten to know you for real. Her life hasn't felt as complete as it has been these last few days. She has had a reason to come home, to not die on the job. She has a purpose now. And it's all thanks to you. For the first time in years, she has felt alive.

“I'm not letting you go”, she whispers firmly and wipes your tears with her sleeve. “There's no way.”

She picks you up, carrying you to the bedroom and tucking you in. Everyone is looking for you — you are all over the news. Everyone is worried about you … and here you are. It's not right … but she can't let you leave.

Jerry has handcuffs, and they have been intended for much different use, although for the same purpose. She handcuffs your right hand to the bed frame. The cuffs are surrounded by a pink fluff, and she finds it painfully ironic.

She pulls her chair to the side of the bed and sits down, watching you with her arms tightly crossed over her chest and burning tears in her eyes. The second they fall, she wipes them harshly. 

You're not asleep for long and when you awoken, you tug at the handcuff roughly.

“Stop!” Jerry demands and grabs your handcuffed wrist. “You will hurt yourself!”

Your terrified eyes shake as you look at her.

“Y/N, stop trying to get free”, Jerry orders. “You will hurt yourself. It will leave scars.”

Her perfect, untouched kpop idol. You have no marks on your body, not like her. Jerry's body is tainted — she has marks and scars from wounds, tattoos. You're a blank canvas and nothing can happen to you. Maybe, if she keeps you clean, she will be clenched of some of her own sins.

She picks up her phone and calls her boss. 

“You always call in the middle of the night”, her boss says before greeting her. “What is it this time?”

“I want to stage a murder”, she says surely. “I want everyone to think that Y/N has died. I can’t take this anymore. Everyone is looking for her and she knows it. It gives her … hope.”

“That isn’t hard. We grab a girl somewhat similar, color her hair and make sure that it will be hard to do DNA testing.”

“That is easier said than done.”

“If I manage to fix this for you, will you for the love of all fucking things, stop calling me in the middle of the night?”

“Maybe.”

She doesn't think that is is a good idea to leave you alone after that night and decide to bring you with her to her headquarters one day. You feel no courage to disagree. You sit in silence in the passenger seat of her sports car, fiddling with your fingers. She plays your song on the aux.

“So this is the little kpop girl you’re obsessed with?” a rough looking woman says as the two of you walk inside. 

The other people around try to get a look at you. You hide behind Jerry without noticing. Where has she taken you? Why does everyone look rough?

“Don’t touch her”, Jerry warns the woman. 

“Why are you bringing such a poor soul here, huh?” a man asks.

“Mind your own fuckign business, will you?” Jerry snarls and grabs your arm, pulling you past them. 

You’re placed on a couch where you hold your knees close to your chest, as if you don’t dare to move. A woman to your left has bought a pizza and is nonchalantly eating it. You glance at it, feeling hunger roar through you. Jerry seems to notice as she reaches forward to grab the pizza box. 

“Share with the rest of the class”, she says. “Y/N, eat.”

You hesitate. Jerry practically puts the pizza slice in your mouth. You want to ask why the other people in the house look dangerous, but their glazes towards you make you cold to your stomach. 

“Oh look, if it isn’t the news”, a man says as he comes into the room. 

“That’s my boss”, Jerry whispers to you with a half smile. 

The boss turns on the TV with the remote and what meets you make you freeze. The screen in front of you contain news filled with you being dead. Seeing your name in the sentence as ‘dead’ and watching people you have never seen before cry over you evokes an emotion you have never before felt. Your entire body has gone cold and never before have you felt such a nausea. You lean forward on the couch. 

“N-No …”, you whisper in pure panic and shake your head. “T-That's not me! I'm not dead!”

Your hand clasp over your hurting heart. It's going to rip in two, you can feel it ripping. All eyes are on you which, if possible, makes the situation worse.

“N-No … that's not—that's-”

You feel a pair of arms wrap around you from behind and a chin on your shoulder. Turning enough to see Jerry's dark eyes fixated on the TV.

“The country will mourn you”, she says in your ear. “But they'll forget you. That's what happens with products. Someone else will take your place.”

“W-What- … who are you?” you ask with a trembling voice and look frantically between her face and the TV. “How could you…?”

“She hasn't told you what she works with, has she?” her boss asks.

“No …?” you stutter.

Jerry nods towards the TV. Your eyes widen.

“You kill … p-people?” 

A choir of mocking laughter echoes through the room. Everyone seem to take pleasure in your horror. You’re nothing more than the punchline in their sick joke.

“Every now and then”, Jerry replies as if she hasn’t heard them and strokes your pink hair. 

“Let me go”, you plead through new tears. “P-Please, I will do anything! I won't tell anyone what happened here. What do you want? Money? I-I can get you whatever you want!”

A new, even stronger, wave of laughter echoes. You see them bend in half, grabbing random furniture to not fall over. 

“I don't want money”, she scoffs. “I want you. That company isn't treating you right, your fans write sexual fanfictions of you on the internet and take pictures of you the second you bend down and you were almost kidnapped just a week ago! Is that what you want to go back to? Everyone sees you as a toy for their own benefits! Now you're free from it. I dont think that I have fucking saved you because I've pulled you into something worse, but at least now you’re not a product anymore.” 

Jerry runs her hand through her black hair and sighs. You feel naked under everyone’s gazes.You start to wonder if it really was you on the TV, because you can't seem to move, think or feel. You’re dead. In all senses, you’re now dead. Your blurry eyes wander around the dimly lit room, seeing too many mocking faces. You meet eyes with the boss and whimper at the realization that if Jerry is a killer, he must be something much worse.

“Well, welcome to your new life, Y/N”, he chuckles and gives Jerry a quick glance. “You have absolutely no idea what you’re in for.”

[mxtantrights]

Jason finding out his so is pregnant with twins? 🤔

probably really shocked. like big shock. didn't think that when the two of you were trying that this could happen. well, the chances aren't zero but it is low. low enough that it didn't even register that it could happen.

after the initial shock wears off Jason is probably trying to figure out how he's going to raise two kids with you. thinking about raising one was a total mind wreck, but this? This is going to take some planning. fine tuned planning.

Jason was already going to read all the pregnancy books but now he's reading double the amount. there are more ifs and maybes now that it's twins.

this also means that Jason has to make some investments. like two car seats. two car strollers. an actually car and not a motorcycle. (somehow the bat mobile is able to fit two car seats, don't ask how he finds this out)

doesn't want to know the genders. oh Jason is totally the type to want it to be a surprise. he wants to find out when you give birth. not at a baby shower and not in a doctors office.

probably stares at amazement at you all the time. not only are you carrying one life, you're carrying two.

satisfies all of your cravings. peanut butter and pickles? ice cream and French fries? done. foot massages, shoulder massages, soothing sounds to fall asleep to.

he also lets you sleep closest to the door for the nine months only because he knows you'll have to use the bathroom and it's easier and quicker for you to be near the door. but as soon as you've birthed the twins he's right back to sleeping closest to the door.

takes Polaroid pictures of you doing mundane things. says it's for the photo album that Alfred is putting together. (one day you ask Alfred about said photo album and he doesn't have any idea what you're talking about.)

Jason wants to name one of them, and he wants you to name the other. and he won't tell you the name ideas he has/won't listen to you if you try to tell him yours. likes surprises in this instance only!!

Jason probably has to be talked down from painting the room some ugly color. he wants to be inclusive but throw-up yellow is not it!

his siblings take care of a lot of things for him without him having to ask. suddenly the corners and sockets in the house are baby proofed. six month supply of diapers. wholesale club membership card in your name approved.

day of the birth Jason is calm on the outside but freaking out on the inside. he won't show it because you're already going through so much. (you find out about halfway through and ask him to freak out without)

you're in labor for twelve hours. Jason is there for all of it. he doesn't leave your side. the siblings become your henchmen. you need ice chips? Damian's got it. You need a nurse? Cass and Duke have your back. Need to watch better channels on the hospital tv? Tim is your guy.

Bruce talks to Jason while they both stare at your twins through the glass window of the nursery. Bruce doesn't have to say much, he knows Jason will be a good dad. And Jason likens Bruce's belief in him to his childhood with Bruce. Yes it wasn't normal but it was a childhood he'll never forget.

Jason carries both babies in his arms for the firs time and cries. Like silent tears rolling down his cheeks. You start crying too.

Jason's name for baby #1: Cassie

Your name for baby #2: Peter

a/n: OH MY GOD THIS WAS SO FUN TO WRITE!!! THANK YOU FOR SENDING THIS IN ANON <33333 didn't know how much I needed Jason to be a dad until I did this. you're a rockstar!!

[gay-dorito-dust]

hey hey, was wondering if you could do a headcannon for jason and dick when their s/o is sick cause im sick as hell rn and need some comfort <3

I hope you get better anon and I also hope that this gives you something to chuckle at in the meantime.

Jason:

He’s like a mother hen when your sick and it wouldn’t been funny…had you not been sick and forcibly bed bound by him.

‘Jason.’ You groaned. ‘I’m dying.’

Jason looks at you blankly. ‘Hi dying I’m Jason, now take your god damn medicine.’

He takes your recovery more seriously and makes sure that you take your medicine on time when they were needed. And if you were to make things difficult for yourself, he will straddle you if needs be just for you to take medicine that you were upset wasn’t grape flavoured…

Will tuck the blankets right under your chin if you’re feeling cold and if you were still feeling cold, he’ll offer you one of his warmer hoodies to wear in hopes that they’d stop.

He honestly can’t either you sometimes but has to remember that he loves you and that he’d stick by you no matter what, even if you do act like an outraged child when sick.

God sake do not ask him to get you ice cream when you’re sick, he will forbade you from eating that crap. You’re meant to be getting better, not worse.

He even makes you a nice warm soup amongst other foods to help you during your recovery process also.

Jason may seem strict in his methods in taking care of you but he means well and will apologise if he thinks he’s been a bit too much of a dick by sitting bedside and holding your hand, kissing it every so often.

‘I’m sorry if it seems like I’m being harsh chipmunk, I’m only trying to help.’ He’d say.

‘If you’re being sorry for being a dick, then it’s only fair that I say sorry for acting so childish when you’re only trying to help. And I really appreciate you for everything you’ve done for me.’ You’d reply as you both let out a chuckle before you allowed Jason to take care of you without any complaints to be made.

You get better by the end of the week and Jason spoils you by letting you have all the ice cream you could dream of, but please for his sake don’t eat it too fast and get brain freeze.

Dick:

Will let you eat ice cream because how can he say no to your sad, sick face.

Even when sick Dick spoils the hell out of you.

Does not make the situation any better in all honesty.

He’ll probably take more offence that you were sick than yourself as he takes your temperature and tutting.

‘38°?’ Dick says as he looks down at the thermometer and muttering under his breath, ‘Not good.’

You only look at him blankly before sniffling as you cling to your plush frog, unamused. ‘I hate you.’

He’d might even get Hayley to help ‘heal’ you by just letter her be her cutest self and not currently crushing your legs, seeing as how she’s not a little blue pup anymore. she’s yours and Dick’s baby however and you didn’t care because seeing her try to nurse you back to health with her licking never failed to put a smile on your face.

‘Thank you sweetheart Im beginning to feel much better.’ You say as Hayley continued aggressively licking your arms, hands and face.

If you were to tell dick you were cold/still cold, his immediate response was the cuddle you but when you stop him to remind him that your sick, he only shrugs and probably boasts that he’s got great immunity before cuddling you. (Lies utter lies)

Let’s be honest he probably ends up getting sick after you start to recover and demands for you to repay him for taking care of you.

dick is okay at making food but might mutter ‘this isn’t the way it looked when Alfred made it’ under his breath while making you some simple soup before consulting Hayley, who only whimpers and shies away from it.

‘Take out it is then.’ He’d say and tries to take credit for it once it comes, but you see through the bullshit but we’re too sick to say anything about it.

[yelenasdiary]

Sppoookkyy season request! I hope this sparks you some inspo or a eureka moment either way I love the way you write!!

Uhm. So Wanda/Natasha/Yelena is secretly vampire and decided to blend in the crowd but hey no worries! They are like not so into human blood and only drinks when necessary (gravely injured). However, it turns out hunters are also out there and they have an encounter, ending in a bloody fight but they manage to barely escape. Reader was on her way home when R saw someone laying on a sidewalk and thought it was over the top holloween gimmick! R then decided to come closer and was startled when she was suddenly on her back, someone on top of her, taking hostage their neck... R ended up nursing the vampire but they wouldn't want to part with R and decided to claim her as theirs.

I hope this is understandable! Hekhek

-👾💜

Eternity

Pairing: Vampire! Natasha Romanoff x GN! Reader

Summary: On your way home, you stumble across somebody injured, begging for help.

Angst

Warnings: Mentions of blood, Brief mentions of R’s depression, | 1.6K

AC: Thank you for sending this! I hope you enjoy! x 

October Special Masterlist 2024

A faint rustle and the crunch of leaves was all Natasha could hear as she hid in a tree above the hunters who had pierced her ice-cold skin. She watched as they checked in shrubs for any sign of her hiding, not once looking up at the tree line. Although tonight the red head was glad the moonlight was hidden by clouds. 

One arm wrapped around the thick trunk of the tree to keep her from falling, her other handheld the opened wound on her abdomen, they got her good. It took everything in her will power not to sink her teeth into the hunters, if she did, it would only give more reason for the people of Westview to fear her kind. 

“Craig, I think we lost it!” One of the hunters said in defeat. 

“Nah, I got it good, real good” Craig who was wearing a trucker’s hat replied. “It’s gotta be hiding somewhere, come on! Let’s keep pushing” he added to Natasha’s relief. She watched as the two hunters walked further away from her. She waited until she could no longer hear their voices before she carefully made her way back to the ground. 

With each step through the woods, the world blurred around her. The moon light guiding her to a quiet and lonely street as she greeted by the sights of streetlights. She felt the warmth of her blood slipping away, she cursed the hunter under her breath. The world blurred around her before her sight was black and her back hit the hard pavement of the sidewalk. 

Wrapped in a coat that matched your dog’s little coat, you turned the corner with her on a leash. A late-night stroll for the two of you after a long, busy day at work. Your home street was quiet, lit up pumpkins sat on neighbors porches followed by their Halloween decorations, it wasn’t unusual to see some of them going all out for the holiday. As you walked closer towards Anges’s house, you noticed something on the sidewalk. At first you chuckled lightly, “yeah, good idea Aggie, scaring the little ones with a fake dead body” you said to yourself, shaking your head.

As you got close you noticed the figures chest ever so slightly rising and falling, sending your unbothered feeling into great concern. You darted towards the figure, seeing a woman living on the ground with blood covering her left hand.

“Oh my god! Are you okay? Hello? Can you hear me?” You asked in a panic as you fell to your knees beside the unknown woman. She groaned lightly, pushing your hand away from touching her, “its okay, I’m here to help” you added before the woman’s complete stillness shattered and before you could move her eyes shot open. Her right hand taking your neck hostage as she pinned you to the ground in an almost supernatural flash. 

“Who are you?!” The woman demanded as fear filled your eyes. As you looked into her green eyes, you saw she was in more fear for her life than you were. “I’m Y/n, I.. I live three houses down; I can help you! Just please, don’t hurt me” you replied. Your poor dog barking over the top of your voice while her leash was still tangled around your wrist. 

With her body growing weaker and the pain becoming unbearable, you felt her grip on your neck begin to loosen. “I won’t hurt you” she rasped, finally letting go of your neck and moving off your waist. 

“You’re hurt, what happened?” You asked in curiosity while the woman tried her best to return to her feet, your dog still barking at the scene only adding to the red heads stress. “Yuki! Enough” you scolded. 

“Thank you” the woman with green eyes said as you got back on your feet. 

“You’re bleeding, please let me call somebody” you looked up at her, but she shook her head, “you said you live three houses down; do you have a first aid kit?” She asked. 

“Follow me” you instructed. 

You help the stranger to your house, allowing her to lay on your sofa while you fetch the first aid kit, a washcloth and a bow of warm water. Yuki now free from her leash sat on the floor besides the sofa, keeping close to the stranger she was unsure of. 

“This looks pretty bad, what happened?” You asked as you began to gently clean the wound from the blood surrounding it. 

“I just fell in the woods and a stick pierced me” she replied, not for a second did you believe her. “Well, it looks like you’ll need stitches” you said as you took a closer look at the wound. 

“I can’t go to the hospital” she informed you, wincing at the pain when you gently wiped a little blood too close to the opened wound. You would never do this for any stranger but something about the woman lying on your sofa told you that if you bandaged her up and sent her on her way, she might be in more danger. 

“You’re lucky I know how to stitch” you said as you ripped open a sterile gauze and applied some antiseptic to her wound. “Thank you” she complimented. 

“You’re welcome….” You paused, hinting for her to tell you her name. 

“Natasha”

“Natasha, it suits you” you smiled softly as you pressed the gauze against her wound. Natasha winced again, but she didn’t pull away.

----

The following days turned into a blur you nursed Natasha back to health. Making sure her wound wasn’t getting infected, you made her food which she would only pick at, you made sure she was warm and comfortable, but she was never warm. Small details about Natasha got you thinking late at night when you were in your own bed, wondering how she even got injured in the first place. 

You weren’t one to believe in witches’ tales but with recent town talk of two hunters claiming they encountered a real vampire only added to your suspicions. She was ice cold, her eyes piercing green, picking at her food, barely drinking anything you would provide her, but it was crazy to think you were nursing a vampire back to health. 

Although you had your concerns, you found yourself enjoying the small talk with her. She told her about her life, and you told her about yours. She saw the sadness in your eyes when you told her about your struggles with living alone and not knowing what more to life there was besides going to work, coming home and only having a small social life. No time for vacation, not enough money flow to build the dream house you have always dreamt about since a young child, you wish for a bigger life. 

As Natasha started to recover, you were hit with the thought of her leaving and how your house would soon become quiet once more, her green eyes never to be seen again, her laugh never to be heard. You thought you were crazy for feeling this form of attachment to the woman who still was somewhat a stranger in your home.

“Can I ask you something that maybe very invasive?” You asked. Natasha chuckled lightly, “depends on how invasive your question is” she replied. 

“Do you have somewhere to go? I mean, when you’re well…. do you have to go?” You asked, your eyes dropping to the glass of water on the coffee table in front of you. 

Natasha took a deep breath in, “you don’t want me around, trust me” she said. You looked up at her once more, “what if I do?” You replied. Nat shook her head, “I don’t think it would be wise for me to stay” 

“Why? Because you’re a vampire?” You asked, the words rushing out of your mouth without a second thought. Natasha’s eyes widened, “how d-did you know?” She questioned.

“You didn’t fall in the woods and get a stab wound like that from a stick, besides, I heard from talk in the town the other day. Some hunters boosting about encountering a vampire…at first I didn’t believe but you barely eat the food I make, you’re never warm and I’ve never seen anybody with eyes like yours” you explained. 

“You’re not scared?” Natasha wondered. 

“I think if you were to kill me…you would’ve already done that” 

Natasha smiled softly, “I wish I met you in pass life, not everybody is so calm and collected as you” 

You couldn’t help but chuckle, “I am not collected, look at my life…I’m like robot”

Natasha sat up slowly before she looked over at you once more, “I can give you eternity” she said softly. 

“W-what?”

“It’ll come at a cost but if you’re serious about what you’re thinking about, I can give you eternity. I can take you away from all this, you can do anything you wish, you’ll never have to feel like robot again” 

Her words took you by surprise, you looked over at Yuki who was peacefully sleeping in her bed on the floor. You were so tired of this stereotypical lifestyle, your parents no longer around, the friends you’ve made in Westview would surely miss you, but would it be so bad to finally break free and life a different life? Is it selfish to place your life into the hands of a woman you only met a couple of weeks ago? 

“This crazy but I really, really don’t want you to leave” you said, breaking the silence. 

“And I don’t want to go” Natasha said softly, gently taking your hand in hers. You ignored the coldness of her touch, feeling nothing but warmth just being around her. “I’ve claimed many things in my life, but this…if you choose to do this, know that I will protect you with everything I have” she adds. 

“Then I am yours” you said, feeling the unknown future rush through you. Natasha smiled softly, “this will only hurt for a moment” she whispered before gently pulling you closer.

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[ssahotchnerr]

hi!!!! I love your writing so much and I'm not sure if you're taking requests, but I'm in the hospital at the moment and it isn't the best weekend of my life!! thinking about if reader got injured and aaron got the phone call that she was in hospital?? thank u!!!

collisions

:( i'm so sorry to hear that oh my gosh, i hope you're alright, recover quickly, and can leave hopefully soon <33 cw; car accident, description of injuries - reader is mildly hurt, anxious aaron

what started as a calm workday, changed with one phone call.

you had been in a multi-car accident, a string of rear-ended collisions, the slick roads all to blame. an ice storm had rattled the area unexpectedly, coating all roadways and making all driving conditions hazardous to the extreme.

aaron had been in the roundtable room with the team, debriefing, when his phone began buzzing, the vibration lightly shaking the surface of the table. caller id read the name of the local hospital, resulting in all color leaving his face. he got up so rapidly a few sheets of paperwork wafted to the floor.

deep in his gut, he immediately knew it had to be in regards to you. the feeling was too intense to be anything else, and god he hoped his intuition was wrong.

but just his luck, it wasn't; he didn't receive much information during the call, just that they were contacting him as your emergency contact, and that there had been an accident with you stuck in the middle. the state of your injuries, he didn't know.

by the time the call ended, dave had trailed out behind in concern, following with the simple instruction to 'go.'

the drive frustratedly and understandably took longer, all cars proceeding with caution. the pace only heightened his nerves; his knuckles were white from how tightly he was gripping onto the steering wheel, and when stalled within traffic, his wrist rest atop the wheel, his thumb rubbing against his index finger in his self-soothing manner.

if that wasn't enough, the foot not occupied by the gas and brake tapped in place, as if it would somehow speed things along. even during his drive he witnessed several cars nearly slide off the road, felt his own wheels yearn to move to their own accord at times. and each time, he imagined you and how you must've felt. the fear that must've filled you.

you had to be okay.

the prolonged drive also allowed, in his usual self deprecating fashion, much time for him to blame himself; he should've called and insisted you stay home the moment he heard the hard ice pattering against his office windows. he should've driven you himself. he should've done something. anything.

finally aaron arrived at the hospital, mindlessly flashing his fbi credentials at the first desk he found and mentioning your name, and how he had to see you. if showing his badge actually contributed to anything, he wasn't quite sure, he displayed it in an urgent panic, but he was quickly ushered to where you had been recovering.

when you were finally in view, could he finally breathe.

"thank god," he exhaled aloud in relief. you were sitting upright, responsive, chatting quietly with the nurse who had been doting on you.

"aaron," your eyes lit up, his name leaving you in a sigh.

the nurse informed him you had escaped with a mild concussion, a few bruised, but not broken, ribs. as they relayed the details, aaron silently thanked himself he had taken your car to get a tune up before the winter months released their wrath. if he hadn't, the outcome could've been horribly, horribly different.

"sweetheart." he grabbed onto your hands once the nurse left to attend to another patient, bringing the warmth back to them. he could feel the prick of tears behind his eyes, "are you in much pain?"

"i'm fine my love. jus' shaken up." you answered him, nodding your head in further reassurance, in hopes to relieve the distressed expression plastered on his face. but you immediately regretted the subtle movement, wincing heavily as pain tweaked within your ribs.

"don't move too much." his hands shot out to cup your face, his touch extremely tender and gentle, thumbs brushing against your cheeks. he couldn't help but exhale again, "fuck, i'm so glad you're okay."

[lethalchiralium]

The Death of Peace of Mind | Happiness Series

a/n: i love u, have some escapism (also PLEASE roast the shit out of this like you’re in my creative writing class, thank u love u)

warnings: violence, blood

PREVIOUS <<|>> NEXT | SERIES MASTERLIST

There’s a stark difference in the snow on the ground in this forest than the snow back home in Maine. When you were little, you used to sit on the stoop of your parents’ house, bundled to the nines and your little hand holding fistfuls of powdery snow. You could look around and see saplings for miles, ready to be chopped and loaded onto a truck that would merrily lead you back to the main city - needles greener than the grass in summer, full of life and dusted with the white snow. Your dad would gently pet your head before sauntering down the steps, getting ready to head to the markets for the day. You waved, snow decorating your hand as you’d watch the old truck hobble down the driveway and disappear into the grown trees.

You used to find the snow beautiful, something to look forward to seeing every year so your mom could decorate for Christmas with the colorful lights you always liked.

All these memories seemed to cling like maggots to rotting flesh, only coming to surface when it finds a new wound to sink its teeth into.

This snow is bitter here, clinging like cigarette smoke to the jacket you snatched from the floor. It danced on your lashes, made its home in your hair, settled softly on your daughter’s head. Your stomach felt like lead, legs ready to give out at any second as you kept going as fast as you could. You used to be able to run efficiently in the snow, but now, you struggled. You ran and dodged low limbs, tried not to tumble down small hills as fear held a tight grasp on your throat.

Lloyd would wake up soon, he would see you gone and raise the alarm. You only had so little time to find some sort of shelter that wasn’t the decrepit cabin you were held in, you had to find a phone that wasn’t busted, you had to just get as far from that fuck as you could. You couldn’t even spend any energy on what almost happened thirty minutes earlier, couldn’t think of anything but hurting your kidnapper; the only strength you had was to make sure Mellie would live. You glanced down at her, her little brown eyes looking up at you with a weak glare that could send you to your knees at home. But this wasn’t home, this was miles from it, and you and your child were only a few hundred yards escaped from death’s door - not under your comforter at home, nursing her high fever. You were desperate for your husband at that moment, begging God with every second breath to bring him to you. He would know what to do, he would take your daughter away from this place.

Snow crackled underneath your feet as you kept going, the brunt of the wind hit your face like a train but you kept going. Your arms were taut around Mellie, keeping the oversized jacket around her whimpering frame. The sky was a light shade of blue, the trees danced beneath its breath, the only shelter you could find was down the mountain. You already felt like you’ve scale half of it, but you were far from close - you coming up to a sloped edge now, your feet slowed so you could peer over the edge. It was steep but you could slide down, there was another ledge, then another stretch of snow covered hills as you descended. You had no idea where you were, but you knew this had to be hell.

Tree after tree, boulder after iced over creek, your exhaustion was catching up but there was no way you would stop. There is no stop. There is no slowing down. There is only your daughter’s escape, even if means you don’t make it out.

Stop it. Winnie and Simon need you too.

What little path you had began to narrow, your fingers felt even colder than before as you came to a split in the road. You went right, knowing any trick you could play now wouldn’t work out because of the damn snow. Breathing harder every second, your vision seemed to fade in and out - Keep going.

The sound of your name being screamed at the top of Lloyd’s lungs felt like a gunshot to the chest.

Every muscle in your body seemed to roar to life, even with the snow slowing you down, you kept pushing on. Mellie whined into your collarbone, your hands burned. There was barely any indication of where the road was, you couldn’t follow the asshole’s car path because they would have been able to catch up quickly. The path was running out of terrain as another edge appeared, this one seemed like a steep drop off. You skidded to a stop, looking to a thick pine tree nearby, looking down at your daughter and making a quick decision to hide her. Ripping off your jacket, you bundled her up, and moved into the tree - digging out a small hole in the small heap of pine needles, you kissed Mellie’s face and sat her there.

There was no way out, you knew that. You would have to fight your way out - the thought clawed at your stomach the same way betrayal felt. Because you were here alone, the promise your husband made left shards of glass in your face and hands.

You will stand your ground if it meant Lloyd couldn’t have your daughter.

“Princess, you need t’sit.”

Simon pushed your frantic body towards the park bench, his guiding hand seemed too warm against your lower back. Sobs kept escaping your lips, even as you were trying desperately to silence them. “I don’t- I don’t know what’s- what’s- happening-“

“Sit.” Following his lead, you found yourself hyperventilating on a park bench after dark with your husband. He tore off his face mask, his hand cupping your cheek to make you look at him. “You feel m’hand, yeah?”

You nodded, a hiccup left your hips before another sob escaped too, your eyes closed as you tried to stop these random tears.

“No, you need to look at me, I can’t help you if you don’t look at me, love.” His voice was calm, a nudge to help you, you opened your eyes with a quickness - lashes fluttering to fight the salty tears. “Good girl. Tell me somethin’ about m’face.”

“Wha-What?”

“Do it.”

You sniffled, trying to take a deeper breath but your chest only seemed to constrict itself. More tears fell as you whispered, “You- You have pretty eyes.”

“Tell me something about m’clothes.”

A glance down, leather jacket, black t-shirt, blue jeans. “Leather jacket.”

“Good girl. How does my hand feel?”

Warm. Comforting. Like if you’d let go, he’d still be there, keeping you afloat. More tears fell. “Like home.”

“What do you hear?”

Dogs howling down the street, the brakes of the tram you two were trying to catch, Simon’s voice.

“You.”

“Good.” His other hand took one of yours, squeezing it. “Doin’ so well f’me. Can you take a deep breath now?”

You followed his command, a sob rattled around your ribcage as you exhaled.

“You can cry, baby, but you need to calm down. Gotta think straight before we get you home, yeah?”

You wondered how Simon would feel, seeing you like this. Back rested on the forest floor, heaving, coughing up blood as your knuckles felt singed by fire - if only it was fire, but it was from beating your father-in-law off of you. The fall down the steep hill onto the plateau hurt a lot more now than it did ten seconds ago, and the man now clambering to get on top of you felt like the bringer of death. Claws made of your bloodied hands, scraping them against his face as he gripped your neck - it seized, pulling up from the snow as you hit and clawed more at him, his hands remained steadfast. Air escaped your body, and no breath could be taken in - panic began to buzz throughout your body as anger fueled it.

Heavy hands that felt like paws, that felt like boulders, that felt like God abandoning you.

Not yet.

You know what to do.

A swift kick from your knee made the bastard wheeze, loosen his grip, and it left only a moment’s notice to grasp the opportunity. You slammed your fist into his nose, feeling the sickening crack before he leaned backwards, you bucked your hips before punching again. He went backwards. Again. He went backwards. Again. He’s on his back. Again. Again. He’s screaming. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again.

It hasn’t even been twenty minutes since you escaped with Mellie, and now you find yourself pumped full of adrenaline, beating your captor’s face in for even daring to try and take your child.

Your hands felt blood. You couldn’t tell if he was dead yet. Make sure he will be.

Three days you spent in that basement. Two hours you spent carefully laying a plan, and one moment to swing that broken bookshelf into your father-in-law’s skull. And you were choosing to ignore the beating you had received when protecting your baby, the beating both of you took as you tossed each other down a steep hill. Brawling like mountain lions - a mother protecting her cub, the other looking to devour you whole.

A scream of pain escaped your lungs, another punch to the bloody face. Another. Another. Another, until you couldn’t tell the man beneath you was the monster who fucked up your husband.

Another hard punch for Simon.

Another for Mellie.

And five more for yourself.

A laceration on your head began to throb as you could finally feel your hand, turning off of the beaten man and onto your back and into the bloodied snow. Facing the sky felt like freedom, the pain in your hand felt like the flames in your fireplace back home, your ringing ears felt like knives inside your skull - but your heart beat without fail, through the agony, through the rage and fear.

A cough escaped your chest, blood leaving with it as you turned onto your one hand and knees, looking up the steep hill which would lead you back to Mellie. The tree peaked over the crest of the ledge, your hands - through excruciating pain - gripped the mud, snow, and ice as you began to push yourself up.

“Melody, Melody Ivy,” Her name groaned from your broken voice, every handful of ice and push from your foot made your head throb more, your balance growing weaker with every push. “Mama’s comin’, Mama’s on her way, fuck.” Your whining eardrums couldn’t hear her, fear and panic still rampant in your veins, your breathing barely escaping your lips without a wheeze.

What would he do if he saw you now? The thought felt bitter, the anger leaving your throat in decibels, a few more feet and you would have to pull yourself up and over. Hike your foot up, pull yourself up with your broken hand.

He wouldn’t be here. A growl escaped you. He would be here already if he cared, if he knew. Does he know?

Does he know where you are? Does he think you’re safe at home, under your favorite blanket with Winnie asleep on your lap, your show playing on the TV? Does he think König and Roach are standing guard, Laswell talking on her phone at the table?

Does he truly believe that?

Do you?

You didn’t even notice that you had fallen further down the hill to the bottom, past Lloyd’s body, into a bed of snow and ice. The sky, grey like the ashes in your childhood home’s fireplace, blocked the sun and blue sky above. Your hands were numb, spine tingled with every breath, and your chest roared as it expanded. Maybe you lost your footing, or your hand slipped, or God just believed it was funny to let you fall farther from your child. You were going to die here, Mellie too, and it hurt. It blossomed like a rose, decaying your chest with every brush of a petal, the waves washing ashore and flooding your body with angry salt water. Your body would be found here, bones picked clean by mountain lions or foxes, and she would be safe, nestled beside the tree.

There was no peace here. No mornings in snowsuits on the porch, watching Christmas trees be hauled down the lane, squealing because of the fresh snow. No afternoons sitting by the fire with your daughters, watching an animated movie as they both napped on your lap. No evenings with your husband, talking about some meaningless memory as he brushed your hair cautiously. There was only the sky, the blood that came from your head, chest, back, and hand, and the cries of a mother who can’t do more than cry for her child.

[somanyratsinthewalls]

Heyy! I’m new here and I absolutely love your writings wksiwksjwjshe is your 300 event still open?

if yes I would love to req a cinnamon + poplar ! hehe thank you! (If it’s already closed then don’t mind me)

*HI sorry this took forever! But I hope you love it ;) Ace is such a filthy boy in this one, EYE certainly enjoyed it*

Pairing: Ace x Fem Reader

WC: 2200

Prompt: “Shh I know baby, I know it’s good. You’re doing so good for me…” 

TW: SEX, shameless flirting in public, Ace being kind of a pervert, reader is a bit older than young buck Ace, p in v sex, unprotected sex (don't) creampie (also don't) fingering, teasing, pet names, filthy language. the usual?

— — 

You sat at your desk in the medical ward of the ship, up to your ears in paperwork. Blood test results to log, supply order forms to go over, you had so much on your plate and it was eating away at you. The rest of the crew was in the galley drinking but you were stuck working. 

Suddenly the door to the med bay swings open and in waltzes the crew’s head doctor. 

“Ok little chicken, that’s enough work for tonight.” Marco smiles warmly at you as he approaches your desk. 

“Please stop calling me that." You sigh and rub your eyes. "And I still have more releases to sign off on, and the IV tubing we use for Dad is on backorder, so I have to decide if we go up a size or down a size and did you know-“ You ramble on and on while Marco rolls his eyes. 

“I’ll handle it. Go out and have a drink.” Marco eyes your tired face. “Gods know you need it, kiddo.” 

You sigh. You feign a smile as you rise from your desk chair, the joints in your back and knees popping from how long you had been sitting. 

“Was… was that your back?” Marco asks with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes. Shut up.” You say as you push your way out of the med bay. You follow the sounds of music and riotous laughter towards the galley and enter quietly. You slunk between the groups of pirates towards the center of the room and grab a beer from the barrel full of ice. You pull your cigarette lighter out of your pocket and use it to pop the cap off your beer. You stow the lighter back into your pocket. 

“Hey, y/n! Over here!” 

You turn around and see a somewhat intoxicated Ace waving you over to his table. He had that stupid, goofy grin on his face. You smiled back and headed in his direction. He was standing around a wooden table with Thatch, Izou and a few other Whitebeard pirates and nurses. 

“Jeez y/n you look like you’ve been up for a week.” Ace teases you. 

“I think I have, now that you mention it…” You say and take a sip of your beer. 

“Man I haven’t seen you this down before, y/n. What the hell is going on with you?” Izou asks. 

“Well, since you’ve asked! I’m exhausted. I’m bored. I’m stressed. I can’t tell if I want 5 more beers or to fall asleep on the floor! I am wildly overworked and under-fucked.” You finish your rant and slam your beer. 

“Anyone else need another one?” You ask to the now silent group of people that surrounded you at the table. You were met with mostly blank stares, shocked at your sudden outburst. You turn and head to grab a new beer. 

“I’ll come with you!” Ace is quick to join with a mischievous smirk on his lips. 

He follows you like a puppy as you head towards the beer. 

“You know I can help you with that, right?” Ace grabs your arm and pulls you to face him. 

You laugh. 

“I don’t really think Marco would trust you enough to run my blood tests for me, but thanks.” 

“No no, the other part. The being under-fucked part.” Ace smirks down at you. Again, you laugh. 

“Haha, oh yeah? What are you, like 23? Like you’d know what to do with it if you had a chance.” You smile playfully and wiggle out of his grip, finally retrieving another beer. Ace does the same and sidles close behind you on your way back to the table. Suddenly Ace’s breath is hot in your ear as he leans in to whisper something to you. 

“Well I’ve got an 8 inch cock that might change your mind on that…” You stop dead in your tracks and your eyes widen. 

“Wha-?”

Ace passes by you and goes to join the table again. “Only if you want, though! Come on, let’s have another drink!” Ace beckons you over like he hadn’t just whispered the most crude, filthy thing in your ear 30 seconds ago. 

Convincing yourself you had imagined it, you snap out of your trance and return to the table to drink. 

You enjoy a few more rounds of drinks and you notice with each beer, Ace slides his body closer and closer to yours. You could attribute this to the size of your party shrinking as people headed off to bed, but at this point he was basically pressing his side into yours, occasionally grazing his warm hand over your hip. 

His touch was fleeting, but hot… it made you crave more. You found yourself leaning into him and he pulled you closer in return. He felt you shudder. 

“Oh man, y/n, you must really be tired. Do you need help getting back to your room okay?” Ace looks down at you with a devious smirk.  You knew what he was really asking.. and you were far too quick to respond. 

“Yes, I think I’d like that, Ace.” You smile and he wraps his arm around your hip and pulls you away from the table. 

Ace is all but giggling as he brings you back to your room, pinching and squeezing your skin anywhere he could tease it. He stops at your door and looks at you expectantly. 

You laugh. 

“Would you like to come inside, Ace?” 

“Hell yeah!” Ace practically jumps into your room behind you and slams the door shut. 

From the instant the door is closed, Ace’s lips are on yours. You barely had time to react to the kiss before he started tugging at your clothes. You laugh and pull back from the kiss. 

“Haha slow down!  We have all night Ace… I’m not going anywhere.” You purr at him and stroke his cheek. What a sweet, eager little thing he was. 

Ace nuzzles himself into your neck and plants a wet kiss. 

“‘M’sorry, just hate seeing you like this…” Ace continued licking and biting at your neck. You whimper. “Gonna fix it… gonna make you feel so good, baby.” 

Your cunt clenched in anticipated of what he was about to do to your body. Ace pulls your dress over your head and tosses it to the floor. He distracts you with more kisses as he unclasps your bra and pulls it off of you. Ace kisses down to your stomach and gently pulls your panties down. You step out of them and realize you’re completely bare in front of your friend. 

You covered your breasts instinctively. Those doesn’t go unnoticed by Ace, who was coming up to meet your eye again. He pulls your arm gently away from your chest and smiles. 

“Aww are you shy, baby?” Ace coos at you. You blush so hard you think your face might be on fire. Why was he having this affect on you? He was a young blowhard at least 5 years your junior, and yet he ended up with all of the control in this situation…

“That’s ok, come here…” Ace gets on your bed and sits up with his back against the pillows and headboard. “Let me show you why you don’t need to be shy.” He smirks and holds out his arms to you. 

You lick your lips and climb into Ace’s waiting lap. He positions you with your back again his chest, sitting between his legs. This position reminded you how Ace was still fully clothed and you were completely naked. Something about being so vulnerable in front of him was intoxicating… 

“Spread your legs, sugar. Show me that cute pussy.” Ace whispers in your ear as he pulls your legs over his own, spreading them as far as they could go comfortably. 

“Ace…” You whimper quietly, trying to turn your head away. You were embarrassed at how aroused he had made you, all while barely touching you… but not nearly embarrassed enough to ask him to stop. 

Ace wastes no time before his hands are on your dripping sex. 

“Holy shit…” Ace glides a finger up and down your slit. “Look at how wet you are, pretty.” His one finger turns to two fingers as he collects more of your slick from your hole and brings it up to rub firm circles onto your clit. 

“Ace! Fuck!” You throw your head back, body feeling like it was filled with static electricity. He had you so worked up that every little touch felt like it was amplified by 100. 

“You’re so wet that I bet I could just slip my fingers in..” Ace smirks and swiftly plunges the two digits into your hole. You moan. “And I bet that if I do this…” Ace begins to firmly pull and tap his fingers into that delicious spot inside of your cunt. “… you’ll cum.” 

“Shit, fuck, Ace! O-oh my- Ah! ACE!” You cry out and explode all over Ace’s arm and the bed in front of you. 

“Looks like I was right, huh baby? That’s a good girl, give it all to me.” Ace playfully reacts as he rubs at your clit to prolong your orgasm. 

“Fuck… Ace…” You lay heaving on your bed in Ace’s arms, the spasms from your climax finally ceasing. 

You feel Ace smiling into your neck as he peppers it with sweet kisses. 

“I wouldn’t know what to do with it, huh???” He chuckles into your damp skin. 

“Shut up and fuck me already.” You roll your eyes. 

Ace gently moves you out from between his legs and he rises from the bed to remove his vest and shorts. You audibly gasp at the sight of his huge member springing free from its confines. 

“Jeez you weren’t kidding…” You say softly, eyes not leaving Ace’s cock in front of you. 

“I’m a pirate, baby, not a liar.” He flashes you that stupid grin again. “Now face down, ass up, sugar.” 

You quickly oblige, grabbing a pillow to cushion your face that was now stained with mascara. The first thing you feel is a warm hand sliding up your spine and massaging your skin, then you feel the prodding of Ace’s thick cock at your sopping wet entrance, the heavy mushroom tip barely breaching your hole. Ace dipped his tip teasingly in and out… 

“Ace…. please…” You whine as you push your hips back to entice him to fully enter you. 

“Okay, okay, I’ll give it to you, you don’t ever need to beg for me, pretty.” Ace plants both hands on your hips and pulls your ass flush against his pelvis, sinking his cock as deep as it will go into you. 

Strangled moans leave the both of you as he bottoms out. Ace pulls out slowly, looking down to admire the wet mess you’ve already left on his cock. He pushes back in and you moan again, squeezing him involuntarily. 

“Gods you were right… this tight little pussy is under-fucked.” Ace speeds up his thrusts and you gasp, the wind nearly knocked out of you. “Don’t worry baby, I’m gonna make sure that never happens to you again… gonna fuck you every day… make you feel so fucking good…” 

Ace was slamming into you at an animalistic pace and you felt a second orgasm creeping up on you. You could feel the droplets of sweat from Ace’s face splatter on your back, as well as the crazed, possessive grip on your hips almost certainly leaving bruises. You couldn’t form words, only broken sobs and shrieks as your lover drilled into you, dead set on making you cum again. 

Tears fell from your eyes against the pillow and you whined, so close to reaching your peak again. 

“Shh I know baby, I know it’s good. You’re doing so good for me…” Ace coos at you. “Cum on my cock and I’ll fill you up, ‘kay sugar?” Ace leans forward and presses his chest to you as he continues his brutal assault on your pussy. He reaches one hand from your hip down and around to rub at your clit. The stimulation sends you over the edge and your orgasm rips through your whole body. “Ace!” You scream out and lurch forward, no longer able to hold your torso up with your arms anymore. 

“Good fucking girl! Now I’m gonna make you mine…” Ace praises you. 

You try to mumble out “please” but you truly have no idea if you were saying anything coherent.

“Haaa, fuck!” Ace cries out and spills his load impossibly deep into your warm hole. You whimper as you feel rope after rope of Ace’s hot seed filling you. Ace rubs firm circles into your hips as he calms down from his release. 

Suddenly, Ace pulls out of you and flops back into your bed and pulls you to his chest. You nuzzle into his sweaty pecs as you throw a leg over his hips. Ace pulls the blanket over the two of you, briefly leaning upwards to make sure your whole body was covered and comfortable before settling back on the pillows. 

“So you were serious?” You ask quietly. 

“About what, baby?” Ace answers as he strokes your hair. 

“About fucking me every day?” You chuckle. 

“Mmhmm…” Ace kisses the top of your head. “Tomorrow. And the next day.. and the next day… and the next day… and the next… and…” 

You hear Ace start snoring and smile. 

xx 

[actually-safer-to-kiss]

grumpy!reader x sunshine!spencer

Ruffled Feathers

Summary: Spencer wants to go grocery shopping early while Reader prefers sleeping in.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Fluff

Content warnings: none

Word count: 1.1k

A/N: thank you for the request, love 🩵

“Let’s get the grocery shopping done early,” Spencer said at seven in the morning. “That way we have the rest of the day to spend at my place if we want," he said. The word “early” has a completely different meaning to you than to your peppy, early-bird boyfriend.

While you believe early is 9 am and anything before that should be considered unnatural, Spencer is always up before the sun. It’s pretty common to wake up to sunlight forcing your eyes to open while Spencer is in the living room on his second cup of coffee and rereading Tolstoy or Dickens. He never minds you sleeping in. He’ll even offer to make your coffee if he sees you peeling the covers off.

He offered you a cup this morning, and God did you take every drop. You got halfway through the second cup before Spencer was already itching to leave. Something else Spencer enjoys a lot is grocery shopping, eager like a puppy ready for the park. Luckily he offered to drive while you nursed on your second cup, shielding it from any hazardous bumps on the way.

You could admit your frustration with Spencer not giving you the time to wake up before heading out, but your silence throughout the drive says plenty. He’s familiar with it. It’s the silence that comes with five hours of sleep. He understands this is not a time to dabble in the produce section or the dairy aisle. He also understood you were ready to leave before even getting started, as you didn’t even try to change out of your pajamas.

That is one of the best things about having a profiler as a boyfriend. All the subtle cues and behavior changes he picks up on, and if he knows you well enough, he acts accordingly. So when he puts the car in the park, you feel him watching you take that last satisfying gulp of sugary liquid. Caffeine courses through your blood as you shakily put your travel mug between you in the cup holder. You both don’t speak a word when Spencer hands you a folded-up sheet of paper. You unfold it and read his scribbles: milk, cheese, ice cream, peanut butter, celery, sliced apples.

You look at Spencer. “There’s not much on mine.” Your voice is still groggy, but you clear it to sound more awake. It doesn’t work.

“I can take care of the rest.” He tells you, holding up his half (⅔ technically). “You can meet me at the checkout and we’ll be ready to head home.”

You nodded, mostly at the end of that sentence. Because crawling back into bed after a brief productive period has never sounded so heavenly. You were literally dressed for the occasion and suddenly eager to grocery shop, knowing this list is brief and the store is small. You’ll be done in minutes.

Upon entering the store, you and Spencer grab your respective shopping carts and split up. Spencer takes his cart and kicks on, his left foot perched onto the cart as he glides forward like a ballerina turned rogue from her box. You, however, patrol up and down, finding items in various orders. The brands you’re used to were in plenty. You even grabbed an extra jar of peanut butter for your secret (sometimes inebriated) snacking purposes.

Remembering said snacking ventures, you recall your favorite candy bar. You also recall how you’ve been low on stock at your place for weeks since they’re only sold at Spencer’s local store. The candy aisle is feet away at this point, so the decision is obvious. You charge toward it, with the brand and packaging in mind. You scan the shelves up and down, prominent brands obvious with saturated wrappers and bold lettering. At the end of the aisle, though, you learn the hard way that the candy bars, your candy bars, are out of stock.

Granted, it’s not a big deal. But it’s also a very big deal.

You try to drown out the deep sound of your disappointment. It strikes your soul, yet you push on, toward the self-checkout area. Spencer is already there, scanning items, and waving you over as if you didn’t already see him. You use your caffeine-coated might to push the cart along, past the forming line.

You give Spencer your items, per his request for extra points on his value card. You also let him bag and place them in the cart. Spencer nods and smiles as he reviews each item. The beep of the scanner is almost perfect with his efficiency and the look of small joys on his face is nearly enough to drown out your slightly exaggerated despair. Caffeine can help you behave the opposite, even though exhaustion is soon to follow.

You look back to find your cart empty, the other filled with eight bags. You both head to the exit and then to the car, each carrying four bags. The sun begins to blaze and the early summer heats up your fuzzy pajamas. The car is mere feet away as sweat breaks. Spencer, of course, cannot relate. Because every time you look over from one end of the parking lot to the other, he has this smirk on his face that you can't quite read.

You open Spencer's car's back door and put your bags in first. After shaking your arms from the burn of the weighted plastic bags left behind, you reach for the passenger door. Spencer, on the other hand (literally, he’s still holding bags, risking spillage), reaches out for your wrist. With your fingers wrapped around the handle, you look at your boyfriend with questioning eyes. He gives you one of the bags, leaving its own imprint on his skin. He says, "Take it," his smirk grows.

One eyebrow pricks up with a look of suspicion. All questions in your mind fall under the What Did You Do? Category. You take it anyway, with both hands as you let go of the door handle. “Do I ask?”

“Look at the bottom.”

You do as told, continuing to stare as you send your hand on a spelunking mission for secrets you’re not sure what to feel about. The matte finish with raised lettering screams out something very special. Your fingers brush against the sharp corners of the foil layer in the middle, and you count three of them: candy bars. Your favorite candy bars. You look up at Spencer. And as your skepticism melts into a soft pout, Spencer does the same. Is he mocking you? Yes. Does it soon morph into genuine pride at being the best boyfriend ever? Also yes.

And after your expression melts, your arms do too as they fall limp around Spencer’s waist. You hug him tight while burying your face in his chest.

[havin-fun-imagining-twd]

Onstage

What - it's nothing to panic about, Lori's secret pregnancy, Shane's changes for the worse, Sophia gone for over a week, and now a barn full of walkers. It's fine. No big deal, nothing is wrong, so you're gonna step onstage and act like it. On the bright side, Daryl isn't stuck in a bed anymore!

When - the morning after Keep this dog asleep. (the night where Glenn discovers the barn in Season 2)

Who - this is part of the Slowpoke Series, which is a canon compliant slow burn Reader x Daryl. You're also Shane's younger sibling

Pronouns - she/her

TWs - a few cusses, panic, bad screenshots

References - lots, y'all, want the Masterlist?

Length - longer bc I've been awol, I've been dreading posting again, friends, so thank you much for reading. Kind feedback is always welcome :)

“Goodness. You two slept together.”

“Wha—Carol!” you squeak, accidentally splashing some coffee on your hands while you’re at it, to which Carol apologizes, “Oops!”

Glenn and you fell asleep beside each other, by the fire pit. You two must have conked out while staring at the barn.

Brr, the sun hasn’t warmed the day yet, you’re like an ice-pop.

“Wh’appened?” Glenn mumbles, still half-asleep in Dale’s camp chair.

Carl, freshly freed from the house and now officially back to the tents, also wanted to know, “What was the joke?”

“Sorry, couldn’t resist,” Carol whispers in your ear and wipes the coffee off your hand with a tissue she had in her pocket.

That ship has sailed, Carol!

Lori smiles and shakes her head, and hands Glenn a coffee cup. “Carol was teasing them about having spent the night out here. Must’ve stayed up far too late having fun.”

“‘Fun,’” Glenn groans to himself, blindly nursing his coffee. You notice he winces and reaches for the back of his neck when he tries to bend it forward. Must’ve slept on it wrong.

“How late did you guys stay up?”

“I don’t even know, little man,” you answer Carl while reaching out for a hug. “But ‘far too late’ sure is correct.”

He returns your reach and hugs you back, tucking his head down across your neck like he used to when he was little. You press a kiss to his temple and hold him awhile longer, not wanting to let go first.

It’s good to have started the day on an up-note. You’re already on guard this morning. Less so about the genuine, bona-fide barn full of walkers on the property and moreso that Glenn won’t keep the secret long enough.

Which is backwards, but…the worry is that Shane will, um, and, and— oh God, and Carl can’t go near it! What are you gon—

“—Here, Maggie left these for you two.” Lori has returned and plunks down what resembles an Easter basket filled with peaches.

“Wait, should you be lifting heav—” Glenn cuts himself off, apparently having woken up a brain cell and remembering the pregnancy is still a secret.

You run onstage and speak up for Lori. “That’s how her arms stay so toned. Can you believe she hand-whipped the cream for the ambrosia?” Solid improv.

Lori seems to tamp down on whatever frustration she’s feeling. “It’s not heavy, Glenn.”

“Mom can lift so much, that puny basket of peaches is nothing,” Carl tells him, apparently thinking Glenn was being dumb.

Rattled, it takes a moment before Lori recalls what she was talking about. “Maggie also gave us a bucket filled with tomatoes along with another big bowl of eggs. We have to find a way to thank them. They’ve done so much.” She sighs. “Even last night, we cooked the meal, but they provided the food. Meat, even. All we contributed food-wise was the field green salad and the two cans of creamed corn.”

You’ve got to keep it to yourself that by not revealing the Greene’s massive secret about a barn full of walkers, you’re certainly giving them some kind of fucked up recompense.

And like you said last night, there are worse things to be bribed with than food. In fact, you have no immediate plans to do anything other than sit here, miserably tired, in T-Dog’s camp chair and stress-eat peaches — and stick close to Glenn lest he get the urge to open Pandora’s box about that barn.

“Carl, Miss Patricia hopefully mentioned how the barn is unstable? They won’t even go near it, and we are forbidden.” You swipe a peach and have at it. The juice dribbles down your hand and chin. Carl smirks. You snort; at least he’s seen you look grosser. So, in a very ladylike fashion, you shove the rest of it in your mouth in one bite and immediately swipe another. “There’s some kind of vermin problem, too, and you don’t want none of them diseases rats and the like carry. Keep away.”

Mid-chew, you realize that you just lied flawlessly by slipping in truth. You’re not big on lying. In fact, you hate it. You don’t do it, or, at least you think you don’t? Do you?

This and the weight of last night’s inward decision that you made sits heavy in your stomach, making the peach sink like a rock.

You’re going to leave, with your brother. Shane can’t stay here, not when the news of the baby and now the barn gets out. You’ll even go to Fort Benning despite all your misgivings. Anything to keep things from imploding here when those secrets get out. Not, um, not that you’ll stay away forever from the group, just until, um…

Well, if looks are any indication, Glenn’s also busy being miserably tired and stressed. He was the one to discover the barn’s secret, first off. And he’s not good with secrets, and now has three to contend with. The pregnancy, Shane losing his temper and physically hurting you. And now, the stupid, stupid, awful barn.

“Did your head flop down when you fell asleep, Glenn?”

“It must’ve, it’s so stiff!” he mutters. “I can’t have a stiff neck when the…”

Smart, he knows not to finish the sentence and instead resumes warily eyeing the barn. You’re grateful your neck is fine and dandy, you’re in no fit state to mess up your neck or shoulder again. For real, by the grace of God, you’d fallen asleep nestled in T-Dog’s camp chair and your neck stayed blessedly straight and untwisted.

“We search for Sophia in groups, it’s all good,” you cover for him. Carl is still next to you, so the fewer questions, the better.

Maybe it’s the lack of sleep, but you’re restless. Seeking something to busy your hands with, you think to yourself you know what? Your friend could use a massage. It’s the gentlemanly thing to do, considering you slept together (lol).

Shoving the rest of the second peach in your mouth, you consider that slurping the juice off your hand may be a mite untoward, so instead you…wipe it on the clothes you wore all day yesterday and fell asleep in…such a feminine, classy woman. Didn’t even brush your teeth last night.

Whatever, a neck and shoulder rub is the least you can do for a friend you may not see again. “Glenn, I can do you a massage,” you offer.

“Wait. Really?”

“’Course.” Let’s face it, you may not see him again after you leave. Maybe no one here, just look at the track record of losing peop — oh my gosh, crybaby much? Get your butt back onstage and act fine.

“Can you, with your arm still wrapped like that?” he checks regarding your modified sling.

“Sure can.”

“Dude, that would be, like,” Glenn sighs, then you hear Lori call for Carl, who gets up and goes to his mother. “Thank you, that would be awesome, it hurts really bad,” your friend accepts.

“Eh, it’s the least I could do, considering last night we did,” pause for dramatic effect, “sleep together.”

“What the h—”

“—Bro, I know," you drone. "That’s what Carol joked about a few minutes ago. Didn’t expect that joke outta her, right?”

“Slept together, now I get it,” he cracks up halfheartedly. But in an instant, his gaze gets drawn right back toward the barn and resettles into uneasy, blatant stare.

That rattles you. Suddenly, you become convinced he’s gonna spill the beans before the one week (at least one week!) trial. For a few moments, you feel breathless, as in you can’t inhale enough. That happened last night, too, you figured it was because of the cold air.

You cough, inhale extra deep. The sensation goes away. But now you’re starting to get mad. As you rise from the chair, you’re more than conscious of your inner kettle beginning to simmer. Not gonna lie, you sound snotty when you comment, “Glad to see they didn’t learn how to jump as high as a hayloft and find their way out yet.”

“Y/N.”

In lieu of any new comeback, you start on his neck. Immediately and likely without meaning to, he lets out a thankful groan. That warms you, and you remind yourself he’s worried for a good reason and that you love your friend.

And, strangely, then you think back to how you did this for Daryl, gave him a massage. How pleasant the closeness felt, how strange it made your stomach feel. How he’d silently cried but was vulnerable enough to ask you not to stop…

And with the jokes about you and Glenn, you’re feeling some unpleasantly conflicting emotions. Full disclosure, you’d had some hidden and very unwelcome hurt feelings when you found out about him and Maggie. Residual, you reckon, from when you’d two had a little fondness (lol Dale) for each other.

Really, you know it’s just that you’re lonely and things are stressful. More than stressful.

“Wanna kick the ball around later with the others, see if the girls can’t beat y’all this time?” Together, Jimmy and he have been an unbeatable team so far, and you three girls want to change that.

“Anything to make the pharmacy trip suck less.”

Man, you’d forgotten all about that. It’s supposed to feature none other than Glenn, Maggie, yourself, and maybe T-Dog. “That’s still on?”

Glenn shrugs. “I don’t remember. And I don’t want to go today, let’s do it tomorrow or Monday.”

“Fine by me. Naught dire we need yet.”

He unexpectedly exhales in pleasure when you must’ve hit a spot he needs worked out.“I haven’t gotten a massage since, like,” your friend sighs again, and he sounds weighed down when he continues. “Varsity baseball in high school. Appa was really good at shoulder rubs.”

“Oh.” A memory about his dad might will probably spark a whole lot of memories, and he’s still iffy about crying in front of people. “Want me to stop?”

“Heck no.”

“Are you cool with crying? Massages sometimes do that,” you hesitate.

“What do you mean?”

“I meant the act itself can make folk cry sometimes.” Especially if memories get brought up.

“Make ‘folk’ cry?” he teases. "You already used the word 'naught,' too, bumpkin."

You pause the massage to give him a very light shove. “Shut up, buttface.”

Breakfast is eggs again, you can smell them cooking. The Greenes have been very generous with eggs. And, of course, now extra-generous with the peaches and some tomatoes, apparently. Maybe the thrill of yellow squash or string beans is in the future, too.

Ooh, or dairy. Oh my gosh, or red meat! Jimmy mentioned they’ve made a ton of jerky what with their cattle.

“G’morning,” you hear Shane behind you.

“Heya.”

“Morning, Shane.”

The razzing is clear in his tone of voice, but try telling that to Glenn as your brother says, “Lookin’ cute, you two. Didn’t know this was a thing now, I thought that ship had sailed.”

Yeahhhhh, Glenn wriggles away from your hands quicker than you can whine, “Shaney!” who simply cracks up, “Just teasing.”

“I’ll tease your face,” you wish you weren’t snickering back. “And you know my heart belongs to darling Theodore,” you add in an exaggerated accent.

T-Dog, unfortunately, hears, and utters a soft “Da hell?” aaand you cackle even harder. Surely he knows the not-so-secret secret that you think he’s a catch? Too old for you, but, like. What a gem.

“Glenn, my apologies.” Shane winks. “It’s too easy to rile this one up. And Dog, don’t worry.”

“It’s cool,” Glenn answers so awkwardly.

You scrunch your lips at your brother in an effort not to smile. He’s acting like himself again, the real Shane. You don’t feel as if you’re looking at a stranger, you don’t feel the urge to stay on-guard or stay onstage. “Proud of yourself?”

He shrugs with a lazy grin. “It is real easy to rile you up.”

“Mmhm, well I’m fixing to escape to Fort Benning right now, lemme just wash up first.” You insert this little seed in hope it takes root. He was planning to go there before things changed.

He was planning to go without your input or foreknowledge, too, but he was doing what he thought was best for the group. For Lori and Rick.

Until he didn’t anymore, according to what he said to Lori.

That night, the same day Daryl had almost died, was something else.

The things he said to Lori echo in your head, the confident flirting while she was visibly unreceptive and shaken.

Then you recall the way he’s been “pragmatic” and almost irritated about the continuing search for Sophia.

Then the way he blew up at you, hurt you.

And finally, how your first reaction to finding out there was a barn filled with walkers a mere one minute trek from where your people are sleeping in tents was to insist that the secret must be kept from Shane at all costs. That the secret had to stay that way because of what would happen if Shane found out.

Maybe it’s from sleeping too close to the campfire or because it was so chilly last night, but the breathing trouble is back. It's fine, this happened last night, it ended up being fine.

You cough a few times to try and inhale more deeply and ease the tightness in your chest, but you feel strange and a little nauseous. Maybe you're coming down with something.

“Lemme take over here — aw, Glenn, hey, sit back on down,” Shane insists to your friend who just tried to escape. “Heard you slept on your neck wrong. That shit stinks, man. But,” he holds out his hands and wiggles his fingers. “I got so much practice with massages from this one’s migraines, I might should switch careers. C’mon then,” he says lightheartedly.

The unease you just wrestled with lessens. This is the real Shane, the confident, even cocky, but goodhearted one.

Huh, cool, your breathing feels a little better, too.

He looks at you and points with his thumb toward the house. “The uh, the little one, what’s the blonde girl’s name again?”

“Soph—oh! Um, sorry, y-you mean ‘Beth,’” you stammer, all the mirth from a moment ago zapped.

The look in your brother’s eyes changes from easygoing to dampened to cold.

He tries to sound nonchalant behind a thin veil of both defense and offense. “Yeah, the, uh, the teenager. She asked for you.”

“Okay. Thanks.” You’d be off like a shot if there wasn’t another potential time bomb to worry about.

Glenn.

To your friend, you assure in truth, “He does give a mighty solid massage.” But when you lean over enough for him to see your face, you can feel your eyes darken when you hold the finger to your lips and set your jaw.

And as you make toward the house with your coffee and another two peaches, you’re grappling with the fact that, in an effort to keep Glenn quiet so everything won’t blow to pieces, you’re behaving not unlike the very person that you’re trying to prevent from igniting the explosion in the first place.

Another worry is the way you so easily slipped in and out of being onstage.

You’ve always been one to insist on truth and honesty. It’s a badge of honor you wear with pride, and even Daryl, prickly grump Daryl, has mentioned it and appreciates that about you.

And yet, look at your conduct over the past week or so. You can certainly lie, and be believable at it. You don’t like that.

Ew, gross, you’re getting nauseous again.

As you near the porch, Beth’s soft, clear voice calls your name, and she exits the house to meet you. “I got somethin’ for you. Can you come upstairs?”

“Sure. Your dress is cute!” comes out automatically. You’re still dazed and stressed. Her sundress really is pretty, though. Briefly, you consider how it would be nice to feel feminine again.

She leads you up the stairs, and it strikes you how odd it is that you have to go upstairs for whatever she’s going to give you, right? Then, you worry that it’s to do with the barn.

And you’re right.

Or, at least, you think you are. Maggie is upstairs when Beth brings you there.

The tightness comes back, so you focus on your breathing and will your stomach to chill out. You're onstage, you need to perform.

“Y/N, hi!” Margaret says this a little overly chipper, even though her appearance suggests that she’s had about as much shut-eye as you, if not less. “Sleep okay?”

“A-About as well as you, I reckon,” you answer with a hint of humor and only a trace of a stress stutter. Buying time with a few more coughs, before you get too defensive, you play it off as if Beth does not know that you and Glenn know. “We stayed up far too late and ate way too many peaches,” you say the girl. Which is the truth, you aren’t lying! You aren't lyi — nope, don't you cry! Stay onstage, stay onstage, stay onstage—

—As it so happens, now is when you recall how you are currently carrying two peaches in your hand, so your cheeks heat. The urge to cry goes away, so, small win. “I ate way too many, at least.”

Beth giggles. “I love peaches, too. I had peach cobbler as my birthday cake two years ago. The ones we grow are so good!”

“Thank you for the basket of food, by the way, it was very kind.” Very kind bribery, please keep it up, we haven’t had this much available food in months, in fact, we’ll probably do anything you ask us if you let us stay here!

“There’s plenty more where the peaches came from. The season’s almost over, but we still have bushels left to pick, the hens haven’t slowed production yet, and we’re almost out of canning supplies we’ve done so many,” Maggie responds.

Beth is opening a big trash bag on her bed that looks like it’s filled with blankets, so Maggie takes the opportunity to lock eyes with you again. She mouths, “Thank you.”

For not saying anything? “She doesn’t know we know?” you mouth back.

She shakes her head.

You relax muscles you didn’t know you were tensing.

“Yay, I got it open without rippin' it!” Beth exclaims. “Y/N, Maggie and I had gathered up a bunch of clothes for charity, but that’s when things got, w-well,” she halts, unsure of how to describe the outbreaks. “The bad things happened, but, um, we, well, we still had all the donations bagged. Daddy and Shawn also…” She quiets at mentioning her deceased older brother and turns weepy.

Her big sister finishes for her. “Shawn donated clothes, too. And Mom.” She swallows. “There’s plenty to share with your group, is what she means.” Maggie nods her head at the bag on the bed, then to two others on the floor.

They're sharing...all of those?

You don’t get a chance to ask it because Beth is already answering. “When I saw how y’all looked, it was scary. The,” she starts, then stops. “Not that you were scary, I meant y’all must’ve been out there a long time. It’s scary to think about.”

“In your defense, I did look scary the first time you saw me.” Wild hair, sweat-drenched, sobbing, and covered in Carl’s and your own blood. Rough day.

But having been ‘out there,’ as Beth worded it, it’s not so scary when you’re with a group you trust. It even feels comforting to have them all. Which is when you consider how Shane and you will be back out there in a couple weeks, alone.

“Here.” Beth shyly points to the bag. “I wanted to offer for you to look through the bags first. If, if you want.”

The offer is (more) bribery to keep you quiet, which cools the warmth of the charity, but doesn't lessen the grateful tears you spill. Plus, yes, you all could use some fresh clothes, there’s only so much mending that can be done. And to be offered first dibs, even if it’s just to butter you up, is still being offered first dibs. “I’d love to take a look, thank you,” you say in earnest.

Beth combs through the bag and chats in her shy manner, handing you a barely-worn, calf-length dress that had been gift for Maggie, then a (pure wool?!) cardigan their mother had been giving away.

You find it hard to believe that she’s doing this as bribery, Beth doesn’t seem the sort to easily conceal things. She’s got an innocence that hits as genuine.

But, then again, you who hate dishonesty are apparently great at it. Who’s to say she’s not, too?

The breathlessness briefly comes back. You clear your throat and cough once.

Beth next, to your apprehension and then delight, has you try on the dress and cardigan (which shockingly fit). While retying the modified sling around your upper arm, Maggie keeps trying to catch your eye again in order to, you don’t know, communicate something via meaningful glance? But you don’t have the bandwidth for it, so return her look with a polite smile and shrug.

Her little sister then proceeds to gussy you up in a way reminiscent of how Amy did once at the quarry camp to see how Glenn would react. Gosh, was that only two-ish months ago, wasn’t it? Or has it been longer? It feels like longer.

Beth has manages a quick, respectable braided style for your hair, touches up your eyebrows for you, and even adds blush. She then claims that your hiking boots “look okay” with the ensemble and has you use the full length mirror in her closet to inspect the full results.

The dress is lovely, you have to admit. The neckline doesn’t dip too low bonus that it doesn’t show your bruise, the waist is defined, and it’s long enough past your knees to be comfortable. The length also helps lessen the lingering apprehension you have about showing natural (*cough cough unshaven*) legs.

You actually feel…pretty. Been a while.

It’s as if she knew you were yearning to feel girly again. If this is bribery, you welcome it. Worse ways of being bribed than with fresh food and a makeover from a genuinely sweet kid. And hey, since you have to be onstage so much, might as well dress nicely for the audience.

When you’re walking downstairs to bring your people the donations, Maggie murmurs in your ear, “Y/N, I didn’t put her up to any of this, it was all her.”

When you pull away from her, she's insistent. “It wasn’t her bein’ nice to keep you quiet. Remember, she doesn’t kn—”

“—Good mornin’, girls. What’s in the bags?” Patricia’s voice calls from the bottom of the stairwell.

“We had some clothes to donate since before Easter,” Beth answers. “I figured they could use ’em.”

“They certainly could. I’m glad I have plenty I brought from my house when we moved in.” You can see Miss Patricia in the hallway by the stairs, clearly wearing one of her late husband’s shirts over her dress. Her brows lift. “Seems you dolled your friend up some. You clean up nice, sweetpea!”

“Thank you, ma’am. I-I do feel like a lady again,” you allow, your cheeks again warming.

“Never stopped being one, as far as I’m concerned. Always kept your Ps and Qs,” she’s kind enough to maintain. “Oh, speaking of ladies, I don’t know how y’all are doing on girls’ supplies, but we should have enough to share while you’re still with us.”

“Margaret and I were gonna look for some more on the next drug store run tomorrow or Monday to make sure you’re well stocked.” Along with everything else on the list(s) that was forgotten when those two…got distracted.

Ugh, how different things would be if you’d gone along for that trip! None of this barn bullshit!

Again, you feel the need to cough to help you breathe better, so you cough twice and try clearing your throat.

“Uh-oh, sounds like cold and flu season is well on it’s way,” she muses. “Don’t let me keep you holding them bags all day, girls. It’ll be funny watchin’ your daddy react if one of them ends up dressed in his giveaways,” the woman comments wryly. “Now, I did intend to check on those stitches today, Y/N, so come see me later. Hersh is just finishing up with Daryl’s, in fact, then he’ll be all set to go, if you were wantin’ to see him out.”

Oh, right! Today is finally the day he’s leaving that room!

Carl, too, but he’s already out and has been wandering around outside as much as his energy and mom will allow (which isn’t very much yet).

Daryl, on the other hand, has been too dizzy and too ashamed to do much more than a trip around the perimeter of the house.

Carol and you cleaned his tent yesterday as a surprise. It was her idea, of course. She enlisted your help specifically because you twice mentioned not thinking his sweat smelled bad, which is weird, but, for real, it doesn’t smell bad to you. The cigarettes, on the other hand, ew.

“Are we not going today?” Maggie asks quietly about the postponed pharmacy trip.

With tact, you suggest, “We could all use some rest after stayin’ up so late.”

She peers into your eyes, then nods and adjusts her hold on the two bags in her hands.“That’s a good idea. I’m not up to it, either.”

Upon stepping back outside onto the front porch, Jimmy and Glenn are kicking the soccer ball around already. Glenn is keeping his neck taut as he and Jimmy go back and forth, but the pain must have lessened.

The irresistible urge you have to make light of everything seizes you, and you leap into matchmaker mode because, why not? You won’t be here much longer, and maybe Maggie and Glenn linking up will lead to the rest being permitted to stay. That’s what matters.

Oh, and, uh, because you love Glenn, and Maggie is kind…oh fuck, are you just a calculating, cold strategist?

The feeling that you’re running out of air and going to vomit returns, but you push yourself onstage and commit to the role. You have to keep your shit together.

“Ain’t he handsome when he plays? Good sportsmanship and confidence rolled into one.” You playfully hold a smile back when you glance at Maggie and giggle to hide your heavy breathing. “Also the shiny hair.”

“He does have great hair,” she softly agrees.

“Y/N, do you and Glenn like each other? I-I thought…” Beth’s face has paled.

Maybe that’s why you over-act when you exclaim, “Of course I like him, that’s why I’m such a great wingwoman for him.”

Margaret blushes. “Let’s get these bags to their camp.”

------------------------------

Him

------------------------------

“I can’t hunt?”

“You can do as you please,” the old man remarks. What, is he making fun of him? “But doing so while recovering from a concussion would be foolish, as would be heavy lifting or other strenuous activity, and that’s not considering your collarbone and ribs. I’m curious as to how you’d wield your weapon or bring back what you hunted, for one, if you would even make it off the property without keeling over.”

Daryl bites his tongue and keeps his words to himself. Well, fine! I can still bring that little girl back. She’s got legs, she’ll be able to walk on her own.

Hershel cleans up his stuff and stands. “Now, then, I’m sure you’re ready to finally see yourself out.”

“Damn straight,” is probably not the smartest response in front of the old man, what with the cuss word, but damn straight he is ready to get the hell out of there. Still, he remembers his manners. “Thanks for everythin’.” He even holds out his hand for a shake. Which is dumb because the guy’s hands are full.

Daryl…puts his hand back down and grabs the few things he had in there with him. Y/N once described the Dr. Farmer as ‘unreadable.’ Definitely is that.

Unreadable, Hershel drawls, “It’s good you’re on the mend,” and inclines his head toward the door. “After you.”

------------------------------

You

------------------------------

Dude, you had a panic attack.

It wasn’t too too bad, all things considered. Initially, you’d thought it was a mild asthma attack, but in hindsight, wow you were oblivious to all of the signs.

It started to happen when some of the group was going through the clothes, right after Maggie and you dropped them off and she left to do choring.

Lori was beside you, low-key beside herself trying to figure out how your people could “ever repay the family now?”

Next, T-Dog joked about the sizes being too small for him. “Ain’t sure what here I could fit that won’t result in a show for y’all.”

This is when Andrea murmured to Carol, “Reminds me how it’s been awhile.” The way Carol reacted clued you in that it might have been a sex joke. Especially given the way Andy next gave your brother a once-over as if you weren’t right there. You vividly recall licking your teeth and rolling your eyes.

Then Shane — and he did this without having seen Andrea do the once-over — nudged T-Dog in the ribs and began to unbutton his own top. “Worse things than a show these days, friend. And that there clean shirt is calling my name.” Naturally, he proceeded to swap garments right where he stood.

Per usual, Lori was more graceful than you. She ignored it as if he were her own brother acting like a frat boy, and merely continued to sift through one of the bags. She smiled upon finding something, tapped Carol on the shoulder, and handed it to her.

It’s been a week now since Shane's betrayal of her and Rick. Even you are still figuring out how to see him. The hopeful part is that he’s been leaving Lori alone. If his sights have indeed turned to Andrea, all the better.

Back to the moment, you next worried that what if he and Andrea got a little too close, did something foolish, and she ended up pregnant, too.

Not that Lori’s baby is Shane’s, the baby is Rick’s regardless, but...

The tight feeling returned in your chest.

It was in the midst of this that Dale complimented you. “Kiddo, you’re all gussied up! Any occasion?”

“Mmhm, all dressed up for the ‘show.’” The nausea was back, plus a fun new notion of being observed, as if everyone and anyone, seen or unseen, was staring you down.

Dale just nodded with raised brows, and you and he shared a look. Instead of tempering your fears, it piqued them. It wasn’t his fault, but Mr. Horvath’s expression started to mirror the way he stared into your eyes after catching Shane lose his temper and leave you with a bruise on your sternum.

The fears within you, the stress, the dread, all started roiling stronger and stronger. You cleared your throat, then coughed, but it didn’t help. You felt so restless and, oddly, cornered.

And so, not knowing where to look therefore looking in all directions, you happened to spy Glenn staring at the barn. Again.

The air felt too…thin? And then you noticed Lori examining the torso of one of the shirts in the bag as if testing it for stretchiness or room. You could see the shadows clouding her face right before she abruptly put the shirt down.

Then, there was Carol, holding up something that had clearly must have been Beth’s a few years ago, and it looked as if it would fit Sophia perfectly now.

It was just about then that your lungs simply couldn’t keep up.

“Kiddo?” sounded in your ear.

You may have panted something to do with “puffer,” referring to your largely unused inhaler. At any rate, instead of next going to the logical location of the RV to find the med bag, you made for the treeline. You didn’t want anyone near you, didn’t want anybody to see you, didn’t want a fuss, didn’t want to be touched, didn’t want anyone to even think about you, so you had to hide.

Panting, a numbness started to affect your fingers and spread to your torso and toes. You repeatedly coughed in an effort to break up whatever was making it hard to breathe.

Once you started coughing, it dominoed. Your stitches were tugging at the forceful coughs, and soon, you were hacking. The hacking led to retching, one, two, three times. Tears started to fall.

“Baby, here,” came from your right and a warm, delicate hand touched the small of your back. Lori. She pressed the inhaler into your hand. “I shook it up, it’s all ready.”

Bending forward slightly to open your airways, you tried to exhale enough so you could take the dose properly as you clasped the trigger.

One puff. Hold breath in.

Your pulse thudded in your ears.

Another puff. Hold breath in.

The relief that usually comes with the medication wasn’t as apparent as it normally would be. It helped somewhat, but.

You tried another dose.

More tears of frustration. You panted to her that you thought your were going to pass out. "F-Feels like m'gonna die," you may have also said.

The phantom sensation of your hand being covered in Amy's blood returned. You recall wiping it with the hem of your dress, and Lori taking your hands, preventing you from continuing to do so.

Lori calmly instructed you to, “Try this with me, honey,” and slowly breathed in through her nose. You copied as best you could.

She then slowly breathed out through her mouth. You copied as best you could.

Over and over she coached you until things started to ease.

You looked around you. Your new sweater was hanging off your elbows. Your pulse was still loudly thumping, but two doses of a corticosteroid will do that. In your escape, you’d made for the big rocks where you’d shared (sort of) a cigarette with Daryl. The stones felt nice and cool, and Lori’s gentle rubbing of her hand across your back was comforting.

“Been a while since you’ve needed the inhaler. ‘Decorative,’ you called it once,” she softly chatted. The sensation of not getting enough air wasn’t quite gone just then, but you felt pretty normal again.

“I reckon the cold and the smoke must’ve done me in,” you mumbled. Your throat was mildly sore after all the coughing. “It’s good it was mild.”

“Were you wheezing?”

“No, I…just couldn’t breathe enough or something.” You shrugged. “I don’t always wheeze when I need it.” Your nose was stuffy from crying.

She was thoughtful for a moment, and had begun to lightly scratch your back. “You and Glenn seem off this morning. I’ve seen you two tired before, but today you both seem…there’s something else going on, clearly. Did you two fight?”

“Not exactly.” It’s true. “We’re on the same page.” You weren't prepared to have to go onstage again, but just in case, you tried pulling yourself together.

“Was it about Maggie?”

You laughed genuinely. “Ha, not at all.”

Lori didn’t mirror your laughter or even smile in return. “Honey, I think you had a panic attack.”

That's ridiculous! was your initial reaction, which is why, at first, you protested. “Oh, it wasn’t that dramatic.”

“It looked different from where I was. But even still, it didn’t have to be or feel ‘dramatic’ to have been one. You know that.” The nonjudgemental straightforwardness in her voice, in her eyes, was enough to convince you that she could see straight into your heart and read what was there. “Y/N, is there something more going on?”

More than anything, at that moment, you didn’t want to lie to her.

But what could you do? Tell the truth, yes, 'the truth will out,' you know that. But you were convinced that telling the whole truth, right then, would be like lighting dynamite.

In your view, you would be exposing everyone to chaos and even violence, and you'd all seen too much of that already. And no, you couldn’t just tell one person because it never just stays with one person. Lori was/is not in any position to have more fear on her plate.

So what did you do?

You crawled back on that stage and you lied — by telling the truth.

“I’m worried he’ll talk.” Vague and a lie of omission, and maybe a little throwing your friend under the bus, but Lord have mercy on you, it was truthful.

Lori squeezed her eyes shut. “Me, too. Oh honey, I’m so scared!” she whispered, covering her mouth.

So scared of Shane, just like you are. “Rick won’t hold any of it against you. We all thought he was dead.”

She shook her head and stared at the ground.“But you saw how Shane behaved, you, you heard the things he said, Y/N,” she nearly hissed. “I don’t know who that man was, but it wasn’t Shane, just like when he had m—” then Lori cut off.

“When he had what?”

She shook her head again. “Seems Dale’s on his way over. He told me about what was going on so I could bring your medicine to you. He hadn't known what 'puffer' meant." A look of pure guilt. "And —oh, Y/N, I’m so sorry that you’re worrying yourself like this over my mistakes! It's not fair to you.”

“Your kid ain’t a mistake, it’s so good that they’re here,” you replied in total honesty. First time all day.

Maybe she’ll be honest with you and spill whatever Shane did that she’s not being upfront about. Whatever it is could surely have been described in a sentence. “What else did Shane do, Lore?” It can’t have been that bad, or could it?

All she did was shake her head once more. “Like you said, he hasn’t been himself.

‘Hasn’t been himself.’ Fine. You’ve got secrets, too, so there’s no way on earth that you can cast stones.

You stepped back onstage for hopefully the final time, and made yourself deliver the next lines. “That’s why we’re goin’ to Fort Benning.” Without you all. “Just him and me. Within two weeks, I hope?” The nausea still hadn’t gone away, and simply saying this brought it back.

Her brows sunk caution. “When was this decision made? I-I thought—”

“—I ain’t told him about it yet.” The bitter smile, you hadn’t been able to stifle. “Shouldn’t be hard to convince him, considering he was fixing to not so long ago.”

Lori’s apologetic tone wasn’t a put-on. “I’m so sorry he didn’t tell you. I had no idea you were left in the dark.”

That’s when some tightness came back to your chest, and your breathing turned faster again. “I know, Lore.”

She noticed. “Honey, hey,” she soothed, “breathe slowly, deeply." Her hand cupped your cheek. "His mistakes, his choices, his reactions are not your responsibility.”

“I know, b-but—”

“—And you don’t have to leave with him if you don't want to.”

“But wh—”

“—No buts.” Lori cupped your cheek, stood, and swiftly made toward Dale.

And here is where you hadn’t known she was going to be quite so straightforward with him.

In fact, you’d hoped she’d join you onstage and lie, too, but she behaved beyond reproach. “It was a panic attack, so please make sure to respect her privacy about it. I’ve got to check on the laundry.”

------------------------------

Him

------------------------------

Funny thing, he’s wearing the same clothes he had his accident in. He’s in the same stuff leaving that he had been when he got carried in there, except now they’re cleaned and mended.

It’s been good to be back outside, he prefers it. He can’t wrap his head around why some people can keep inside in front of a screen all day. You don’t get to hear or feel the wind indoors, can’t hear the birds and all that.

Now, he couldn’t say for sure, but stepping outside and knowing he didn’t have to go back in must feel at least half as good as getting freed from prison.

If prison was a nice-ass farmhouse without the risk of getting shanked or worse, obviously.

Merle would have some words if he heard Daryl say something like that out loud. Though, Merle was pretty settled when he was in lock-up. Fared fine.

His first view when he steps out into freedom is Glenn and the teenage boy kicking the ball around. Those two are straight into it and pay him no mind as he walks around them.

The rest of the group is around the picnic table, looks like they’re sorting laundry (?), therefore ain’t paying him no mind, either.

Phew.

This is good. He was wondering if Y/N was gonna parade him out or make it a big deal, but after hearing her and the other ladies talking in the hallway, she didn’t come back in. Works for him, he doesn’t like a crowd.

…But, like, where is she? He figured she’d be around, is all, but she ain’t by the table.

Ah, yeah, duh — she's probably still doing something with the girl that's about her age and her little sister. Still seems off Y/N and Glenn are only “five or six years younger” than him, but that’s what Y/N has said a few times.

The next thing he sees is Lori, who is swooping down the yard and toward the big rocks where he and T-Dog took a smoke break once. And where Y/N had her first try of a cigarette, too. Lori looks like a woman on a mission, damn. Dale is staring in the direction Lori is walking, those big-ass brows of his slanted downward. Wonder what that's about?

Over the sound of a few leftover end-of-season cicadas, he hears the normal drone of crickets, light talking from the group, the thunk of the ball getting kicked, a very loud crow, some cows mooing, somebody coughing, birds doing their thing, chickens clucking, the wind blowing. Mmm, good stuff. Being inside and hearing it just don’t sound as good as being right out in it.

Then, “Daryl!” comes from his left, and he sees Carol walking to him. She’s a good woman.

And now the memory of her kissing him on the cheek is making his cheeks heat up as quick as she steps toward him.

“I’ll carry those for you,” she quietly insists about his small pile of clothes. He lets her.

She’s been very, um, attentive. Been having most of her meals with him, babying him as much as he’d allow, and all-in-all has been treating him extra after he had his accident.

There are more coughing sounds that he almost pegs as being Y/N’s, but when he looks back in the direction of the noise, there’s no one, just Lori off on her walk, and she wasn't coughing.

“We moved your tent closer to the rest of us, so you would be closer to where we could help you.”

Closer. Great.

Daryl wanted nothing less, but a kind gesture is a kind gesture, so he mans up and acts proper, grunting, “Thank you.” It’s not like they went and messed with his stuff, they just moved the tent, and for a real kind reason.

Glenn rears and kicks, sending the ball soaring. Damn, he's good.

“Now, it may smell and look a little different, but all of your things are still there.”

“Huh?” What’d she mean?

“You deserved a nice, clean place to go back to,” Carol explains. “Y/N and I tidied your tent.”

…

...

…they what?

He gets the weirdest image of himself as being onstage and forgetting whatever it was he was supposed to say next, leaving him standing there like a mouthbreather in front of the audience. And he kinda wants to cuss the audience out.

His first idea after learning Carol and Y/N was: What the hell, y’all been messing with my stuff?? What gives y'all the right?

But, come on, even he had it in him to keep his mouth shut. They’d taken the time and effort to clean up his shit and it was probably as nice as when Carol had worked her magic in the RV. That's damned decent, in fact.

So, Daryl does not act like a jackass, and instead, remembers his lines and thanks Carol again.

“It was no trouble. How about I bring you some more breakfast once you’re settled in?” she quickly offers. See? Very attentive. And he didn’t do shit to have earned it, which made it more uncomfortable.

Aw shit, his cheeks feel all warm again. First around Y/N, now Carol? Maybe there is something to this whole concussion bullshit.

Or, maybe Carol done kissed you on the cheek and said you were a good man and that you did right by her little girl as much as a father should and that’s the best possible thing somebody could be told.

“Do you want some more coffee, too?”

I wanna to be left alone, lady. “Nah, m’great. Thank you.”

------------------------------

You

------------------------------

“Last night seemed to be an indication summer was officially over. But today,” Dale blows through his lips, “Well, we can already tell it’ll be a warm one.”

“Did we hit the first day of fall, yet? I forgot what date it is today.”

“No, that’s on the 21st. We’ve got some time.”

“Oh, wait!” you squeak (ouch, your throat is still sore from coughing). “Ain’t it the Holy Days for you still?” Rosh Hoshanah was sometime last week, but that one got sort of messed up because of everything that’s been going on.

Oh man, it was the day after Daryl got into his accident, wasn’t it?

Dale’s cordial expression falters. “Yes, it was last week.”

“Yom Kippur is soon then, right?”

“It’s on the 18th this year, yes. Two days away.”

There’s this very insistent raven that’s been cawing away. Or is that a crow? You can’t tell the difference. You can tell that you’ve bummed Dale out, however. “I’ve bummed you out.”

Smiling sadly, he concedes, “Jewish holidays are usually lonely ones in mixed company. And now, especially with it being the holiest time of the year, after everything…” He lifts his shoulders.

“I’ll do the fasting with you so you won’t be alone!” Ow, stop raising your voice so high. “Is it no food or drink at all on that day, or is water okay?”

A happier smile. “No food or drink — barring serious health concerns, of course, in which case, one is required to not fast.”

“No water must suck! When my lot do fasting, water don’t count.”

He nods his head once. “It’s all part of the atonement. It’s considered a blessing for us to fast for it.”

“And the feast after it is fun,” you sigh with a grin. You’ll enlist Carol and Lori to see about making him a yummy fast-breaking meal for the day.

This is what you needed. Dale didn’t press you regarding the panic attack, and has simply been keeping you company by the big rocks. You’ve haven’t had to go back onstage while he’s been sitting with you. You’d probably be content to stay here a good, long time if you didn’t have to use the toilet something major.

“Did you see if there was a pair of suspenders in the bags so you and Mr. Greene can match?”

“Is this your way of saying you’re feeling well enough to head back, or that you need privacy?”

“It’s my way of sayin’ I gotta go potty real bad.” You stand. “Suspenders are pretty cool, you can party like it’s 1899.”

“I actually quite like how suspenders look,” he chuckles, stretching and getting to his feet.

“Mm, they remind me of the Old West, I love ’em.”

Dale and you walk back until reaching the side of the farmhouse, whereupon you excuse yourself to head to the treeline and do your business.

------------------------------

Him

------------------------------

As soon as the heat starts to sink in, he unbuttons his shirt halfway and kicks his shoes off. Getting the socks off without hurting himself takes some effort, but it’s worth it. His stuff is so squeaky clean and fresh, he wants to avoid sweating the place up too quick.

His old pillowcase is gone, probably scrapped for dishrags seeing as it was pretty worn. In its place is a flower-covered one with soft, thick cotton fabric. There's some phrase about a 'woman's touch' that must apply here. Or, if Merle were here, prime Darylina ammo. Joke's on him, the pillowcase is soft as hell.

And being in there might seem boring, but it's 10 times better than being stuck in a damn bed and listening to music for days on end. Just cloud-watching through his tent window is fun enough for him.

In fact, it’s rad! He’s so psyched to not be in that room anymore!

Cloud watching, playing with his bolts, farting if he's gotta; he's content as can be. Seriously, he’s in such a good mood right now.

But as luck would have it, by the time he’s decided to see how easily a bolt can poke a hole through the mesh window (the answer is very easily, and it’s real satisfying) none other than Andrea herself appears at his tent door. The chick who shot him.

Now, she’s pretty as a picture and then some, but he doesn’t want his belly showing in front of her. If he’d been paying attention and heard her making her way to him, he would’ve buttoned up.

So, he tries out the same tactic as last night, when Carol walked in on him shirtless; maybe by not closing his shirt, she wouldn’t think about it? Or…fuck it, just about everybody has seen some part of him uncovered in the past week. At least there ain’t no scars on this side.

All he’s got to do is make like he’s onstage and that it doesn’t bother him having his literal nipples on display.

“Hey.” Andrea steps into his tent, looking like she is about to eat crow.

She hands him a book. He accepts the maybe peace-offering.

“It’s not that great, but…” she trails off, breathes out, and looks as shamefaced as can be.

Y/N, Carol, and T-Dog all mentioned she’s been kicking her own ass for shooting him. Granted, he’s still a little pissed, and, yeah, real thankful that she’s a shit shot, but — she was trying to protect the group, right? Ain’t even her fault he got stuck in that damn bed. The concussion, split side, and broken ribs did that for him.

He figures he’s gotta make it clear that she’s off the hook without making her feel worse for being let off the hook. And, he thinks he knows just the way to break the tension. It’d got the librarian at his high school to laugh the first time he made the remark, which is probably why he was usually allowed to eat in there during lunch if he asked.

Now, he knows reading is still on the no-go list, don’t worry, Y/N, but he casually holds the book up and flips through the pages.

He’s gotta, it’s the setup.

It’s good that Andrea ain’t said nothing yet, because it’s the perfect opportunity for him to pretend to be dead-serious when he complains, “What, no pictures?”

The joke does the trick. Andrea smiles and relaxes.

“I’m so sorry. I feel like shit,” she starts to go on, but he puts a stop to it.

Tucking the book aside as he settles down onto the pillow, he cuts in, “You and me both.”

“I don’t expect you to forgive me, but, if there’s anything I can do, I—”

He cuts in one more time, “—You were trying to protect the group. We’re good.” He means it.

But, ya know, just because things are chill doesn’t mean he can’t bust her balls a little, right? “But hey,” he stops her as she’s leaving. “Shoot me again, you best pray I’m dead.”

------------------------------

You

------------------------------

“It went great! Better than I ever expected.” Andrea takes a seat beside you on the log. Judging by the look of serenity on her face, it appears that the monkey she’s had on her back for the past week is finally gone.

“Good, m’glad.” You knew it would be fine, but Andrea was so nervous.

“And I have to say, I can see the appeal now.”

“What appeal?”

“Daryl was,” she thinks on the right word and picks: “Charming.”

Ah. You see what she’s trying to do. “Well, go tell him that, then,” you suggest, cool as a cucumber. She and Dale thought you and he had a romantic thing going on. Lol, nah.

“And he was funny!” she goes on.

You sip your tea. “Mm, he can be.”

“Not angry, or, or nasty.” She closes her eyes and breathes out a sigh of relief. “I was so worried about how it was going be.”

You tilt your head in partial agreement. He can be a dick.

Your job for the rest of the day, so Papa Dale done told you, is to be chill (yes, he used the word ‘chill’ and it was adorable). It’s your only responsibility today, seeing as he joined you when you went to check the highway spot for Sophia. She hasn’t found it, it’s untouched. Again.

So now, your job = keep chill.

“Are you helping with target practice later?”

Oh, right, and there’s that. You suppose you could continue helping Beth with drawing her weapon smoothly, keep drilling her never, ever forget to switch the safety back and forth.

But…okay: maybe today, that isn’t your job. Maybe you need a rest from being onstage. “I think I’m gonna sit today out.”

“Is everything okay?”

“I just need a day,” you answer in too high a pitch.

Andy doesn’t inquire further. “How’s the little fuzzball?” she instead asks.

“Still sleeping,” you coo. The sluggish little chick you’d scooped up while quickly sprinkling feed-corn in order to feel useful is your insurance for keeping chill. Can’t not keep chill with a chick asleep in your lap.

“It must feel nice and safe wrapped up like that.”

“Mm.” The chick is nestled in a dishtowel, half its body also covered by your new cardigan.

“Y/N, have you not gone to visit him yet?”

“Not yet. He’d appreciate some time to himself, I reckon, after a week bein’ stuck in there and visitors and checkups at all hours.”

Glenn’s off doing farm chores with Jimmy, so he’s being kept busy and won’t be a concern. As for you, you’ve got your sleepy chick and are content to stay here on the log. You ate lunch, yet another peach (you’re up to six), just finished the leftover raspberries, and are now washing it all down with some fresh mint tea you made in honor of one of your best friends. She’d make her own mint tea and would call it ‘wild mint’ tea because it sounded exotic.

When Dale mentioned today’s date, you remembered it was her birthday. She was the most confident girl you’d ever met, and a sweetheart to boot. You really hope she’s alive.

Andrea chuckles to herself. “I gave him that terrible book to keep him occupied.”

Book?? To Daryl? But the concussion! “A book?”

“I brought him The Case of the Missing Man,” she shares with a grin. “He can join the survivor’s club of those who’ve read it — Y/N, is something wrong?”

“Oh, um, nah, it’s all good, uh,” you are fumbling so hard right now. Cool, you’re feeling lightheaded again, cool cool.

It’s all cool. There’s no fire. Stay chill. “I’m gonna pop over and make sure he ain’t cracked into it yet, he’s, it’s, it’s not safe yet. C-Concussion and all.” Listen to you, smooth like butter.

“Oh shit.”

“Andy, don’t sweat. Even if he did start on it, like,” and you pause, because, “I don’t actually know what can go wrong, I didn’t ask Miss Patricia, but I’m sure it ain’t nothing serious!” You cup the (awoken and now loudly peeping) chick between your hands as you book it (pun intended?) to Daryl’s tent.

------------------------------

Him

------------------------------

For Y/N to glide over wearing a pretty dress, hair all fancy, and holding some little bird was not something he put on his bingo sheet.

“Hiya, Daryl.”

It takes him a second. “Hey.” He ain't never seen her in a dress.

And with that little bird, he gets the image in his head of her bursting into song and the farm animals and forest critters doing a musical number with her.

He’ll *ahem* keep that to himself...

“I hope you’re enjoyin’ your new freedom! Mi—”

“—Who’s the little guy?” he had to ask first.

“It's a chick.”

Clearly. “Why?”

“It’s cute.”

She ain’t wrong. “…Can I see?”

“Yeah, it's adorable!”

He begins to get up, but she steps over faster than he can stand. She kneels beside his cot and, delicately, transfers the wrapped chick into his hands. Carefully, he unwraps the washcloth around it and slips his hand underneath it so sits on his palm with its teeny legs dangling through his fingers. It’s peeping like it’s getting paid for it, holy shit it’s so fucking cute.

“I came here wonderin’ if I might I borrow the, uh, the book Andrea just lent you?”

Ha, called it! The second Y/N found out he had contraband, she came to the rescue.

The chick quiets down, appearing to relax in his hand. His hand must be good and warm for it.

Maybe it’s because he’s in a good mood, but he smiles like a dipshit for a few moments before saying anything. “Nah, I wouldn’t dream of checking it out ’til you said it was fine.”

“Oh ha-ha,” she play-mocks, assuming he wasn’t being serious.

Eh, okay, maybe he was sorta razzing her, too. But he wants to come out on the other side of this whole concussion bullshit on the up, and if reading is still off-limits, it’s still off limits. He’s not gonna full-on disregard somebody who gives a shit.

“How’d ya end up dressed like that?” is his second question while he pets the chick lightly along its head using the feathers on his bolt.

“I wear this, like, all the time.”

“Oh right, yeah, you do,” he sarcastically responds. He tries to reach with his left arm to pick up the book under his cot, but gets a sharp twinge and surrenders that he can’t do that move yet.

Y/N snorts at the sarcasm and tells him straight, “The Greenes had some giveaways, so Beth gave me this outfit. Oh, thank you,” she says when he instead points in the direction of the book. She picks it up and hugs it to herself. “I do believe Carol put a few things aside for you to try on, too.”

“’Kay.”

Y/N looks pretty.

It’s nothing new, obviously her face is nice, but it's the whole blushing thing that keeps happening to Daryl's face that's annoying. Seems he's started blushing like a belle over all the damn women in camp these days. That really was some smack to the head he got.

He’s imagining himself as being back onstage again, forgetting his lines. He can make something up on the spot: “How you gonna search in that?”

“Ain’t like my ankles are tied together. Women have always been able to move, play, do manual labor of all sorts in dresses, corsets, stays, stockin’s, you name it,” she serves back with just enough fire that his belly did one of those good flippy-floppys. “That reminds me, Nervous Nelly came back! Did any of us tell you? She’s fine as can be, I fed her half a peach yesterday!”

Some of them baby hairs around her face are coming out of the braids. Her skin's got a sheen to it. And did she put pink stuff on her cheeks or something? Or is that because she was moving around a lot and it’s gotten warm out? Because her lips don’t look like there’s nothing on them but they’re nice and —

“—Dare, you okay?”

“Yeah. Tired.”

“You must be.” Why is she frowning? “You looked like you’d just got hypnotized or — you sure you feel normal?”

“M’fine, I just spaced out.”

She’s gonna have him do a thing, isn’t she? “Follow my finger for a little, please?” Ah-ha, see?

Pointer finger extended, he goes along with it for the 10 or so seconds it takes for the slight crease between her eyebrows to relax.

“Please stick out your tongue for me?” is her next request and, uh, why?

Well, he goes ahead and does it for her anyway. The hook ’em horns he makes at the same time are a sure sign he’s in a good-ass mood.

Y/N lets herself smile, then elaborates: “If it came out tilted, it’s a sign of stroke.”

Stroke? That’s a little much.“C’mon, you’re worried I had a stroke?”

She nods once. Her chest expands big as if she were inhaling really deep. “A smoker, extended bed rest, head trauma,” she quietly counts.

Is he hearing things, or does her breathing sound a little too fast?

“Can you point your toes three times?”

He point his toes three times, and yes, her breathing is a little too fast.

“Now please lift both arms parallel to the bed.”

He lifts both arms. The baby chicken is sleeping now and doesn’t wake with the motion.

“Okay,” Y/N whispers to herself.

“Tell me you’re not stressing out about nothin’.”

She blinks a few times and deadpans, “I would never.”

“Here,” he holds the chick near her face. “Get zen like this pipsqueak.”

“But you ain’t ‘nothing’ and you are at an elevated stroke risk.”

He’s only got the one word for her: “Zen.” The hovering motion he made with the chick was a fun touch, the little thing didn’t even mind.

Her expression suggests she’s trying to not smile, and, in a move he doesn’t anticipate, she leans forward to rub her nose on its beak. Her lips brush against his fingertips when she does, and his train of thought derails.

Next thing, her hands are overlapping his as she gently takes the chick back and re-wraps it in the washcloth. “’Lil buddy you’re fine, you’re fine,” she coos. “I’ll grab you the hand sanitizer and leave you to some peace, alright man?” she addresses to Daryl, who's still a little distracted, so a grunt and a chin tilt is how he acknowledges this.

Merle would be laughing his ass off right now, goddamn. ‘Sweet lil virgin Darylina’ sounds about what he’d be cackling about.

Y/N flips open the cap with her thumb and squirts the hand stuff onto his palm. Smells like lemons.

So, he didn’t have that stuff before, meaning she’d likely been the one to put it in there when she’d cleaned his tent with Carol. “Hey, um, thanks for the surprise.” Damn, he’s awkward. Smells way better in here.”

“Carol is so wanting to help you in any way she can. I was in it just to see you end up with that pretty floral pillowcase. I had to stop her from hangin' the matching curtains,” she snickers, then waves him goodbye and, boom, leaves.

So…how long until his heartbeat and head stop racing?

------------------------------

You

------------------------------

Yet another stage performance today. You had to act like you weren’t distracted by how boyishly charming Daryl looked lounging there with his shirt unbuttoned to his hecking waist, good Moses. But like, the way he snuggled the chick, and how your legit lips bumped into his fingers?? It was an accident! Ohh, but how he'd noticed your panicking so was all soothing and stuff...

Dude, and you were trying to sit like a dainty lady the whole time, too, what a poser.

Still, you think you were convincing in your latest stage performance. Oscar-worthy. Golden Globe. Emmy. Tony. Somebody hook you up with your EGOT.

Oh, and that little jab at his new pillowcase, aw yes, that was top tier friendzoning!

Or — oh, it wasn’t interpreted as flirting, right? No way did you intend that! And, hold up, there's no way he'd even care. It's Daryl.

Eh, you've earned a B- so far at being chill. You've got to get that grade up.

So, you are going to go pick fruit, alone, and you’re going to stuff your face because the show is over, you’re off stage for the rest of the day!

------------------------------------------

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MILESTONES✩༶‧˚

GENRE + T/W: sfw, fluff. suggestive comments. WORD COUNT: 6.0k words. TAGS: satoru gojo x fem!oc, dadtobe!gojo, pregnant!oc, established couple. a lil' jealous!oc.

SYNOPSIS: a compilation of short stories about the stages of pregnancy with oc gojo girlfriend and satoru. AUTHOR'S NOTE: please make sure to read 'accidents' before milestones. i couldn't have you guys miss out on oc gojo girlfriend and satoru's pregnancy journey. it was so fun to write this. a lot of research went into the baby gojo chronicles, i honestly think my fbi agent thinks i'm pregnant. REMINDER: if you want to imagine yourself in oc gojo girlfriend's character descriptions instead, please do!

8 weeks: the first pre-natal appointment

it has been two weeks since you and satoru decided that you were going to keep the baby. this week was your first pre-natal appointment to "meet" baby gojo. you couldn't tell who was more nervous, you or satoru.

during your appointment, satoru sat in the exam room as the nurse drew your blood to perform tests and to confirm the pregnancy. the nurse also performed a pap smear, which freaked satoru out after he saw what a speculum looked like. he said it looked like a 'torture chamber tool' and you wholeheartedly agreed with him.

you exchanged soft smiles with satoru multiple times throughout your appointment. satoru was engrossed with the entire process. his curiousness was adorable in your eyes as he asked your nurse questions about all the procedures and tests she was performing. about an hour later after receiving the results of your blood tests, your doctor entered the room.

“well, first things first, congratulations on your pregnancy (y/n)! your blood test came back positive with hcg.” your doctor began, “now let’s talk about some upcoming lifestyle changes you'll have to make.”

“wait, when do we get to see the baby?” satoru interrupted. you glared at him, dark green eyes telling him ‘shut up, satoru’.

“we’ll perform the ultrasound after this, satoru.” your doctor chimed. “(y/n), i want you to start taking a pre-natal. stop eating raw fish, deli meats, and eat thoroughly cooked meats for now.”

you blinked twice. that meant no sushi for you. your heart sank a little. satoru noticed the disappointment shift in your mood. he felt a little guilty.

"so that's why you had me cook your steak well-done..." satoru whispered to himself. you scoffed at his sudden realization from two weeks ago. (read ‘accidents’ here)

“do you or satoru have any pre-existing medical conditions in either families?”

“no. but he might be pre-diabetic by the time he’s 40.” you snorted.

satoru chuckled and reported back, “there’s nothing on my side of the family to note.”

“that’s great to hear. just be aware of gestational diabetes, (y/n). i know you love your chocolate ice cream so watch your intake.” your doctor typed some notes in your patient profile, “your due date is looking close to october 14th. any other questions?”

“can the baby come earlier?” satoru quickly asked.

your doctor smiled at the both of you, “i wouldn’t necessary call it early, but babies are considered full term at 37 weeks. it would be good for the baby to be born around or after that time.”

“uhm, do you think i’ll be able to give birth vaginally?” you asked next. your sister-in-law had to have c-sections, so that worried you. her recovery was a journey for her and honestly, it scared you. but you were willing to do whatever it takes to make sure baby gojo arrived safely.

“as long as there aren’t any complications, of course. we can plan on that. we'll just have to monitor how your pregnancy is going.” your doctor picked up on yours and satoru’s quiet and awkward social queues, "and yes, you can still have sex while you're pregnant.

"oh, thank god." satoru sighed in relief as you smacked him with the back of your hand. he was so embarrassing.

"please, just ignore him." you looked at your doctor, cheeks cherry red.

she laughed and asked the most important question of the day, “are you guys ready to meet your baby?”

you nodded your head and giggled, “yes. i think satoru’s more excited than i am. he won't shut up about it.”

“i’ve been waiting two weeks for this moment.” satoru said with a sheepish smile, his hand scratching the back of his fresh undercut. his blue eyes peeking through from his sunglasses.

“okay, let’s get started then.” your doctor announced while snapping on her sterile gloves. “we’ll be performing a transabdominal ultrasound today, nothing painful.”

she squeezed a handful of gel to apply to your belly. you jumped in your seat.

“are you okay?” satoru asked, concerned at your sudden movement.

you reassured him, “yeah, the gel is just cold.”

your doctor laughed in amusement and started to rub the wand around your abdomen. you heard a fast thumping noise.

“is that the heartbeat?” you wondered, looking at the black and white screen. satoru smiled from ear-to-ear as he cupped his cheek in his right hand, his left hand squeezing yours. hearing his baby’s heartbeat might take the cake for one of his favorite sounds in the world, next to your laugh.

your doctor reported back, “yup. a healthy 138 bpm. i’m gonna take some pictures now…”

you saw a tiny circle in the middle of the monitor as your doctor clicked away on her computer mouse.

“is that the baby?” satoru asked, squinting at the monitor.

“yes. you see the little image that looks like a bean?” she clicked again, “it’s about half an inch… that’s your baby.”

“it’s so cute. how tiny. a baby bean…” you gushed. you turned to look at satoru. he was itching his eyes.

“satoru gojo, are you crying?” you asked in disbelief.

he quickly defended himself, avoiding all eye contact with you. “no! something just got in my eye.”

he was such a liar. his infinity would never allow anything to touch his precious six eyes.

your doctor laughed at the sweet moment between the two of you. you watched the love of your life stare at the black and white screen in amazement. your heart felt like it was going to burst watching him. you wanted to hold him tightly and never let go.

12 weeks: surprise! we’re pregnant!

it was so hard for you and satoru to keep your pregnancy a secret for the past 6 weeks. the only two people who knew you were pregnant were shoko and megumi.

your doctor had advised you to wait until the end of your first trimester to announce your pregnancy because of the risk of miscarriage. once you made it past the first trimester, you thought about how you were going to tell everyone. of course, you and satoru wanted it to be a surprise. an imaginary lightbulb lit above your head.

“babe, i have an idea.” you said excitedly, grabbing satoru’s arm as he was looking through your office drawers for something sweet to snack on.

“hmmm. what is it, sweetheart?” he asked as he unwrapped a piece of chocolate. you always kept a stash of satoru's favorite chocolates in your desk for him because he loved to hide in your office and avoid his sensei duties.

“you know how we usually take a group picture with the faculty, students, and sister school every year? let's tell principal yaga to schedule it early this year.”

“oh, i like where this is going.” satoru laughed. he read your mind. you high-fived him. he gave you a quick peck on the cheek. couples’ telepathy was really a thing.

*********************************

“and why do we have to be here?” maki complained as she folded her arms. she wanted to train, not take a silly picture.

“come on, maki! it’s tradition to get a picture of all the students and faculty. it’s just that we’re taking the picture earlier than usual this year.” panda said as he patted her back.

“even okkotsu came back from his training to be in the picture. my sister flew in just to be in it too.” megumi said as he watched yuta interact with the students from kyoto. tsumiki was attached to your hip. megumi already knew the real reason why the picture was scheduled so early in the school year and why tsumiki was asked to be in the picture.

“alright! everyone looks great.” yuji cheered as he walked to his assigned spot for the group picture.

principal yaga gathered everyone, “please make your way to the field and get into your assigned spots. satoru will be pressing the button for the camera since he can teleport to his spot quickly.”

you nervously watched as all the students and jujutsu high faculty made their way to their spots, getting ready for the picture.

“okay everyone!” satoru shouted as he prepared himself to teleport next to you and megumi, “i’m pressing the timer!”

satoru appeared by your side as the 10 second timer ticked. satoru sneakily pressed record instead taking of a picture. “everyone say ‘(y/n)-sensei’s pregnant’!”

everyone stopped to look at you and satoru in confusion.

“what?”

“what did he say?”

“huh?!”

“(y/n)-sensei… is pregnant?!”

“wait what?”

“holy shit, (y/n)-sensei is pregnant!”

after a few seconds of questioning, everyone realized what had just happened. you had just announced your pregnancy.

in that moment, you were tackled by tsumiki, megumi, yuji, nobara, and yuta as they cheered around you in a group hug. ijichi, akari, principal yaga, nanami, ino, mei, utahime and shoko were all congratulating satoru. they took turns speaking with the both of you, giving you well wishes on a safe and healthy pregnancy.

“congrats, (y/n)-sensei.” maki said with a soft smile, embarrassed she complained about being here. she wouldn’t have wanted to miss this.

panda added, “yes, congratulations! we’re excited to see you and satoru become parents.”

“salmon, salmon!” toge congratulated you in his own words.

“thanks everyone. if you guys aren’t busy, we’re going to have a celebratory dinner tonight at splendid sushi. satoru’s treat.” you winked.

“hey! i heard that!” satoru shouted at you from across the field as he grinned. both you and satoru were thrilled to see everyone’s excitement on the news of baby gojo.

*********************************

“are you nervous to tell my brother you knocked up his little sister?” you teased satoru. you kissed his cheek as he brushed the loose strands of black hair behind your ear.

“nah, i’m sure he wants nieces and nephews for his kids. plus, it was an accident.” he joked as he drummed his fingers on the restaurant table. you and satoru people-watched through the restaurant window, waiting for touya and his wife. (a/n: yeah, touya is married with 2 kids now. his wife’s name is hana. a non-sorcerer. maybe i'll write a wedding fic.)

you smiled as you saw your brother walk into the restaurant, holding the door open for hana. touya’s black hair and golden-yellow eyes beamed when he saw you satoru.

“satoru! how have you been, bro?!” touya greeted his self-proclaimed brother, pulling him in for a bro hug.

“i can’t believe he hugged satoru first.” you looked at hana in disbelief as she giggled, hugging you instead.

“they really are bestfriends now.” hana realized as she sat across from you.

satoru sat back down in his seat next to you, touya sitting across from him. “glad you guys could have lunch with us. it’s been awhile.”

“we have a gift for you guys! a souvenir from our last trip.” you lied to your brother and sister-in-law. you pushed a card and white box towards them.

“open it. it’s special, made especially for you.” satoru urged, touya and hana taking the card to open first.

“what do you get a brother who already has everything?” touya read out loud. hana curiously reading along with him. satoru placed his hand on your thigh. the both of you were grinning from ear-to-ear watching the two open the box. they pulled out a beige baby onesie.

touya read the text on the onesie, “how about the title uncle and auntie…?”

after putting 2+2 together, touya hid his face with his hands, both him and hana were so happy for you and satoru. your eyes started to water watching them. a tearful laugh came out of you.

“congratulations, you two. my baby sis is having a baby...” touya said as he got up to embrace you.

you hugged him tighter, “thanks, touya…” you softly said. the warmth of your brother's love and support making you extremely emotional. these pregnancy hormones were out. of. control.

18 weeks: an important question

"aren't you curious to what the gender is?" shoko asked you and satoru. you asked shoko to join you two for lunch today because you had an important question to ask the amber-eyed doctor in regards to your unborn child.

you took a bite of your chicken katsu before answering, "of course we are. but we decided not to find out because we want it to be a surprise."

“what do you want it to be? a boy or girl?”

“it doesn’t matter. as long as baby gojo is healthy.” satoru stereotypically said as he stretched his arm to rest over your shoulder. he secretly wanted a girl.

you added, “we raised megumi and tsumiki. we already experienced the best of both worlds. so i’m not picky.”

“i guess i’m just being selfish because i want to know the gender.” shoko laughed as she took a sip of her mimosa.

“oh! shoko, we have a present for you.” you said as you put down your chopsticks. you turned to satoru and he grabbed another white box with a card attached do it, similar to the one you gave touya and hana.

“it better be the gender of your baby.” she laughed as she took the present from satoru.

“it’s something even better.” satoru said with his signature shit-eating grin.

shoko opened the card, reading it out loud, “i need an extra pair of hands to help me learn and grow… i know that yours will be the best because mommy and daddy told me so…?” she looked at the card, confused.

you asked her clearly while trying not to laugh, “shoko, will you be baby gojo’s godmother?”

shoko stared at both you and satoru after she realized what you had just asked of her. she started to chuckle as she got out of her seat to hug you. “of course, i will. hopefully your baby won’t grow up to be a little shit like satoru.” she said as she punched the white-haired sorcerer in the arm, satoru completely letting her bypass his infinity to do so.

“there’s another gift in there.” satoru added, pointing at the giant glass.

shoko picked up the pint glass and read the etching, “you drink too much. you smoke too much. and you cheated on your medical exam. we can’t think of anyone more suitable to be baby gojo’s godmother.”

shoko laughed, “okay, this might have been better than finding out the gender of your baby.”

26 weeks: baby gojo’s first (external) kick

megumi came home this weekend to spend time with you, satoru, and tsumiki. normally, he would be spending his free time exploring japan with nobara and yuji, but since you were pregnant and tsumiki was back for her semester break from her study abroad program, he wanted to spend his free time with his family.

you were in the kitchen with tsumiki making dinner while satoru and megumi sat around the living room with his demon dogs, shiro and kuro. catoru was lounging in their cat scratch post and your spirit birds were out on the patio enjoying the weather. you didn’t realize how zoo-like your home was until now... and that wasn't even including all of megumi's shikigami either.

while chopping vegetables, tsumiki updated you on her high school adventures abroad. ever since she started at e.f. academy, she has been non-stop on-the-go with extracurricular activities. she told you about her latest projects, how the weather was in california, about all the friends she made, and even the boy she had a small crush on. (read 'wherever you are' here)

on the couch, megumi spoke with satoru about his shikigami and how he’s been able to tame a majority of them now. this was the first time in awhile those two haven’t bickered in your presence, and it was a sight to behold.

you rested your hands on your belly as you leaned your back against the kitchen counter, listening to your sweet teenager talk about how cute her crush was. you reminisced about your time in high school, how you thought satoru was a complete asshole when you first met him, and how his good looks and horrible personality made up for it. if your 18 year old self could see you now, she wouldn’t believe the sight. (read 'love at first fight' here)

you felt a little tap against your hands. “huh?” you said out loud, realizing what you just felt on your hands.

“(y/n)? are you okay?” tsumiki asked as she put down the chopping knife. satoru and megumi turned around from the couch, all the attention was on you.

“i think baby gojo just kicked my hand.” you announced. only you were able to feel baby gojo kick internally for the past couple weeks, but now, you thought that satoru and the kids would be able to actually feel the kicks from the outside too.

“hurry, come over here!” you said frantically, hoping baby gojo would kick again. satoru dramatically teleported beside you as megumi hopped over the couch ledge to race over to the kitchen, kuro and shiro following him.

you took all three of their hands and placed it on your belly where you thought baby gojo was. the demon dogs sniffed around you, their tails wagging happily. you pursed your lips, waiting for another kick. you felt kuro and shiro licking your hands.

and there it was. another gentle kick from baby gojo.

“i felt it!” tsumiki cheered as she jumped around the kitchen. her bright smile lighting up the room.

satoru hugged you from behind. you both smiled while watching tsumiki and megumi. megumi looked at his hand, and then back at your stomach.

“did you feel it, megumi?” you asked him with a smile.

“yeah, i did.” he said softly. “that was pretty cool.”

“what about you, daddy?” you grinned as you asked satoru.

megumi gagged at satoru’s new title, “gross. i’m leaving.”

you and satoru watched as your moody teenager made his way back to the couch, tsumiki’s attention back on chopping vegetables. satoru’s arms were still wrapped around you, his face nuzzled in the crook of your neck. baby gojo kicked once more.

“i think baby gojo is saying ‘let go of us so mommy can finish cooking’.” you giggled as you turned around to face the white haired sorcerer. you caressed his cheek with your palm. he snuck two kisses on your neck.

“fine… but i expect some alone time later.” he winked at you before kissing the palm of your hand.

you laughed, “sorry, babe, the kids are home this weekend, plus you get me all to yourself next week when we go to mexico for our baby moon.”

30 weeks: a first time parents' class

"babe, get ready. i signed us up for a class."

"what kind of class? it better not be another ‘how to have sex while pregnant’ class." you rolled your eyes at the ridiculous class that satoru signed you up for at the beginning of your pregnancy. you sighed, your belly weighing you down on your very comfortable white couch that you would probably need satoru's help getting out of.

he grinned at you as he grabbed your purse and your shoes. "a first time parents class."

your doctor recommended that you and satoru waited until your third trimester to take a 'first time parent' class. the class would teach new parents about the different kinds of births, pain management strategies, what to do if and when your water breaks, how to time contractions, postpartum care, caring for the baby, and baby first aid.

“do we have to go?” you asked, “i’m tired.” feigning exhaustion as you put the back of your hand over your eyes and forehead.

“of course we have to go!” satoru exclaimed as he sat down next to you. he was always so excited whenever it came to anything related to baby gojo. he slipped on your white sneakers for you, swiftly tying your shoe laces bunny ear style as you sat up on your elbows. you caught yourself smiling at him. he was so doting. you could definitely get used to this.

satoru studied you. you weren't wearing any makeup today, but you had the radiant "pregnancy glow" that everyone talked about. you wore a beige dress under a white crop t-shirt that hugged your belly tightly. “you look beautiful, so no need to change or do your makeup.”

“you just don’t want to be late.” you laughed. this was the first time that satoru gojo was on time for anything.

*********************************

satoru teleported you both to the hospital in tokyo that you go to for your all your doctor appointments. apparently the hospital was hosting the class he signed up for. there were many pregnant women with their significant others, friends, mothers, and mother-in-laws sitting around the small auditorium.

as you entered the room, you heard gasps and whispers about satoru.

“wow! what a good looking guy!”

“he’s a total hottie!”

“that guy is gonna be a dilf for sure!”

“do you see the cutie with the white hair and blue eyes?!”

“where should we sit?” satoru asked as he held your hand. you looped your free arm around his bicep covetously, staking claim to your man as if your very pregnant belly didn't do so already.

“don’t pretend like you don’t hear all the women in this room talking about you.” you hissed at him as you sat down in a seat closer to the front of the auditorium. because this happened everywhere you went with satoru, normally it wouldn't bug you, but for some reason it did today.

“somebody’s a green eyed monster today.” he sang with a smug smile. it was his favorite analogy to use when you were jealous because your green eyes were so fitting. he sat down next to you, draping his left arm around your shoulder, his right elbow perched on the arm rest. after over a decade of being with you, he was unphased by comments from other women. he ate it all up in high school, but satoru gojo became a changed man once he met you.

“am not.” you said under your breath. you stayed quiet for a moment. “babe, i just think it’s funny how—”

satoru's left ear was saved as your 'i think it's funny how' rant was interrupted by the presenter, “good afternoon! and welcome to the first time parents class!”

even though you were jealous and didn’t like how all the other women in the auditorium were drooling over satoru, you couldn’t stay mad. throughout the years, satoru’s beautiful blue eyes have never strayed and he never made you feel unwanted, even when you argued or when you were being difficult and stubborn. he was never bothered by your jealously. you were the only person he chased after since the day he met you at jujutsu high.

throughout the class, satoru took notes on his phone and asked questions during the q&a. it was hard to stay mad at a man as dedicated and involved as satoru gojo. you decided to just ignore the women in the class, however, that didn’t mean that you wouldn’t cling to satoru when the class ends.

*********************************

“so, what’d you think about the class?” satoru asked as he placed your go-to order of ice cream in front of you. he sat across from you as you glared at his sweet, handsome, smug face.

“it was fine. we learned a lot of information, don’t you think?” you deferred as you scooped a spoonful of ice cream into your mouth.

“yeah, and i learned that you still get jealous til’ this day.” satoru poked fun at you. “remember the first time i took you shopping in shibuya? you were soooo jealous of all the girls talking about me and you weren’t even my girlfriend at the time.” he laughed at the memory. (read ‘love at first fight’ here)

you quipped back, “satoru, everyone knows that you’re the one who’s obsessed with me.”

“true,” he agreed while taking a bite of your ice cream, “but it’s nice to see that side of you every once in awhile. what’s my baby gonna do when she’s not my number one anymore?” he mocked in a playful tone, shooting a bright toothy smile at you.

your emerald green eyes pierced his sapphire blue eyes. “what do you mean by that?”

“baby gojo is gonna be my number one.” satoru said nonchalantly, licking caramel off your spoon.

you took your ice cream away from him. holding the cup closer to you instead of putting it in the middle of the table to share.

satoru chastised you, “that’s not nice, sweetheart.”

“you’re insufferable, babe.” you rolled your eyes at him. “first, you let women drool all over you in front of me, then you tell me that i’m not your number one anymore. what’s next? you don’t love me either?”

“there you go with the theatrics.” satoru sighed, folding his arms. he wouldn't expect anything less from his life partner.

“i learned from the best teacher, i think his name was satoru gojo.” you winked at him.

"it's a good thing i love you." satoru said as he leaned over the table to kiss you on the lips. he tasted just like caramel.

32 weeks: nesting

"this fucking crib is going to be the death of me." satoru muttered under his breath as he struggled putting together the 'smart' crib that he bought. as soon as satoru found out you were pregnant, he spent a whole month researching cribs to decide which one he was going to buy for baby gojo. he decided on the most expensive one, thinking that it would be the best. rich people logic. this crib was called a 'snoo'.

"you didn't have to get such a high tech crib, babe." you said as you sat on the bed folding warm, freshly washed baby clothes and baby bedding for the snoo. you admired how cute and small the onesies were. because you and satoru didn't know the gender of your baby, you bought a lot of neutral colored clothing like beiges, tans, browns, and whites.

"my baby is going to have the best everything." satoru boasted. of course, baby gojo was going to be spoiled. they had you and satoru gojo as their parents.

during the past couple of weeks, you and satoru had bought a handful of important things that new parents would need for a newborn baby such as a crib, stroller, car seat, changing table dresser, and a comfortable lounging chair for your bedroom to put next to baby gojo's crib for the late night feeds.

satoru insisted that everything would be 'nuna' branded. the employee at his favorite department store convinced him after they mentioned that nuna was the "lamborghini of baby strollers and car seats." the matching stroller and car seat system was well over $1,000, you couldn't argue with satoru about how much he was spending because it would be hypocritical of you and your spending habits. so you let him get what he wanted.

after hours of setting up the snoo, putting together the baby stroller, installing the car seat, and building the dresser, satoru sighed, "what a long day." he crawled under the covers to meet you in bed, the back of his hand covering his face in exhaustion.

“it’s a good thing you could just use blue to move the lounge chair from the front door to the bedroom. you probably would've broke your back.” you teased him, knowing satoru gojo doesn’t do manual labor.

“the one easy part about today.” he complained.

while satoru took on his fatherly projects, you were able to deep clean the apartment, put baby clothes and diapers into the newly built dresser, add the clean bedding to the snoo, and re-organize all the drawers in the apartment. you were in the nesting stage of your pregnancy.

you turned to face him, your pregnancy pillow creating a divide between you and the exhausted sorcerer. he flattened your pregnancy pillow with his arm as you took his hand to lace your fingers with.

“you could’ve hired someone to build the snoo and the dresser, satoru.” you said to him, knowing that he normally would’ve.

“yeah, i know, but this is for my baby. i want to make sure everything is perfect.”

your heart melted at the fact that satoru was giving it his all to be involved. deep down, he wanted to be a good father and you could see that. you were proud of him.

"congrats, daddy. you just spent the day nesting with me." you smiled. you knew satoru secretly adored his new title.

the white haired sorcerer laughed, “what the hell is nesting? are we birds?”

“nesting is when couples get their home ready for the baby, satoru.”

“oh yeah? spending hours organizing drawers is nesting? because there’s nothing baby gojo will hate more than the junk drawer we have in the kitchen.” satoru teased.

you kissed the back of your teeth in annoyance, “you have been saying for years that you’d clean out the junk drawer. i found crayons in there from when megumi was in elementary school. he's a high schooler now. it only took me getting knocked up for it to finally be clean.”

you turned your body away from satoru. he moved your pregnancy pillow so he could cling to you (and so that he could be the big spoon).

“i’m just kidding, babe.” he whispered in your ear, kissing the back of your shoulder blade with his soft lips.

“uh huh. go to sleep, satoru.” you replied back to him, attempting to shut your eyes.

“so feisty…” satoru mumbled, still peppering soft kisses along your shoulder blade.

37 weeks: full term

"well... i can give birth at any time now." you said as you read your 'what to expect' app.

satoru placed his free hand on your stomach as he joined you on the white fluffy couch in your living room. you moved satoru's hand to where baby gojo was, using his hand to press firmly into your stomach.

he quickly pulled his hand away from you, afraid that he hurt you and baby gojo, "doesn't that hurt your stomach when you press that hard?" he asked.

"babe, no. give me your hand back. you'll be able to feel baby gojo's feet." you said, reaching for his hand that he reluctantly gave back to you. he leaned over to see what the hard feeling in your stomach was.

"that's baby gojo's feet?" he asked, amazed.

"yeah, baby gojo is literally killing me right now though." you said as you shifted uncomfortably. baby gojo liked to sleep in this position, making you lay on your left side more often.

satoru frowned, he knew you were uncomfortable now more than ever. "i'm sorry, babe."

you squinted at him, "what are you apologizing for?"

"for getting you pregnant."

you couldn’t tell if he was joking or not, so you nuzzled your head on his chest. he pulled you closer to him, "don't apologize for that. apologize if i'm not able to get an epidural or something." you snickered as you looked up at him, "ready to read week 37?"

satoru nodded and kissed the top of your head as you laid against him.

"baby gojo is as big as a canary melon. estimating 19 inches, and 6 pounds. at 37 weeks, you're 9 months pregnant with the end in sight." you read out loud.

satoru took the phone from you to read his part, "at a glance, if baby gojo was born this week, they'd still be early term. baby gojo is practicing for their grand entrance by inhaling and exhaling amniotic fluid, blinking, and turning from side to side. baby gojo can grab onto things now. baby gojo is likely to be sucking their thumb a lot these days in preparation for feeding sessions."

"it says babies grow about a pound a week. the average fetus weighs about 6 pounds. and that boys are likely to be heavier than girls." you read, "since it's a little crowded in your uterus now, baby gojo may not be kicking as much. instead, they're probably stretching, rolling and wiggling." you laughed because baby gojo was still kicking strong, sometimes it was painful, stopping you in your tracks in the middle of the day.

satoru blue-eyes widened as he read the next paragraph, "here's an interesting fact. at birth, baby gojo's head, which is still growing, will be about the same circumference as their chest."

"i pray to god that baby gojo doesn't have your big head or my vagina is toast." you joked.

satoru glared at you, shaking his head while chuckling. he went back to read through some of the pregnancy symptoms. he noticed that you experienced a majority of the symptoms on the list: the pelvic pain, leg cramps, pregnancy brain, and insomnia.

because you were of small stature, you started experiencing more pressure on your pelvis as the weeks went by. sometimes satoru would hold up your belly for you with his infinity whenever you were close by, and you were thankful for such a helpful cursed technique.

before bed, satoru would feed you bananas and massage your legs to help with the leg cramps. with your breasts and stomach as big as they've ever been, you finally got your stretch marks. for the majority of your pregnancy you were stretch mark-free, they didn't appear until the third trimester. satoru liked to call them your 'tiger stripes' when he would help you apply stretch mark creams and oils to your body. him helping you apply those creams and oils was a form of intimacy you didn't know you needed during this time. satoru always knew how to make you feel confident again.

your pregnancy brain caused you to be a little forgetful, so the acrylic whiteboard in the kitchen was your bestfriend. you left little reminders on the board for yourself, satoru, and megumi throughout your pregnancy.

lastly, it was hard for you to sleep now that you were in the home stretch of your pregnancy. every sleeping position was uncomfortable, and you had to wake up multiple times a night to use the bathroom. you never got a consistent amount of sleep.

even though being pregnant was uncomfortable, you experienced some of the best memories with satoru this year: your trip to mexico gifted from touya, your surprise pregnancy announcement, asking shoko to be baby gojo’s godmother, and all the special intimate moments with satoru. your unborn baby was already so loved by everyone. you couldn't have asked for a better accidental pregnancy.

you and satoru laid on the couch together all afternoon, enjoying each other's presence in this chaotic life for jujutsu sorcerers. catoru purred and slept next to you two on the chaise, your spirit birds perched on their stands as they watched over the apartment. you dozed in and out of sleep throughout the day as sleep was rare for you lately.

you felt satoru's warm hand on your belly again, you held his hand and lifted your head, emerald greens looking towards him.

"babe, i have a serious question." you said softly.

raising your hand to kiss your knuckles, he asked you curiously, "and what's your serious question?"

"are you ready to be a dilf?" you laughed.

"are you ready to be a milf?" he asked you back, chuckling, "cause you are definitely a milf, babe."

you smiled at satoru as he continued to plant soft kisses on your hand, "yeah, i'm ready to evict baby gojo."

little did you and satoru know, baby gojo would break your water next week to make their dramatic entrance into the world. yours and satoru's lives would be forever altered.

satoru and oc gojo girlfriend go on a baby moon from week 27, read the bonus chapter, ‘baby moon’ here.

or are you ready to meet baby gojo? read the next chapter, ‘hello baby’ here.

© 2023 ASDFGHJKLMALS — ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE, OR REPOST MY WORK.

DIVIDERS PROVIDED BY @/ANLIAN-AISHANG

[luke-hughes43]

so during preseason, at a practice will falls and hits his head pretty hard. he clears concussion protocols and everything but his head is killing him. and with mack not being able to drive yet, they are kinda trapped at the rink.

mack pulls out his phone and calls dani, "dani, are you busy right now?"

"no why?"

"if i called you an uber to the rink, do you think you could drive us home? will hit his head during practice pretty hard and can't drive." mack explains. dani instantly says, "oh my god is he ok?"

"he's fine, he doesn't have a concussion but the training staff told him he can't drive. and he is adamant about not leaving his car here. can you just come to the rink?" mack says as he's ordering the uber for dani. dani says, "yea i'm calling an uber right now."

"already done. will be there in 3 minutes. your literally a life saver dani." mack says to his best friend's girlfriend that's also his roommate. dani brushes him off and arrives to the rink 30 minutes later. she walks in and immediately asks, "where's will?"

"training room. laying down." mack says and shows dani where he is. when dani sees him, he's laying down with his eyes closed and an eye pack on his head. she says quietly, "hey babe. you feeling ok?"

he just nods and reaches a hand out to her. she instantly laces her fingers with his and squeezes softly. she says quietly, "lets get you home will. and to bed."

"ok." he practically whispers.

he sits up feeling dizzy and stumbles when he stands. dani holds him up and says, "yea you're in no condition to drive babe. come on handsome. time to go home."

he slowly follows her out to the car. mack trailing behind just in case. she gets will settled in the front before grabbing the keys form mack and getting in the drivers seat. she starts the car and asks, "do you want music or is that too much?"

"too much." he mumbles shielding his eyes from the sun.

she nods and just drives off towards their apartment. mack is quietly talking to dani about stuff with allie, dani pretending she doesn't already know, and will trying not to vomit. will says, "mack, please stop talking. you're making it worse."

mack mumbles a soft, "sorry."

will cracks the window for some air and doesn't even realize they are home until dani opens his door. she helps him out and up to their apartment. she gets will in bed and he grabs her hand as she goes to walk away, mumbling a quiet, "stay. please."

"i will babe. i'm just gonna get you some water and tylonel ok?"

he ndos and she ventures into the kitchen to grab it for him. mack is digging through the fridge for something to eat. he asks, "how is he?"

"out of it. how hard did he hit his head?"

"hard. he was battling for a puck and his skate got caught and he fell back hitting his head on the ice. he immediately went off after that and didn't return."

"he'll be fine. he just needs to sleep it off i think. clearing protocols is good. i'm gonna head back with him, i'm thinking tonight is a take out night. let me know what you want later." dani says. mack nods and she heads back to her room to find will trying to stay awake.

she climbs in bed with him and he immediately cuddles into her. laying his head on her chest. she smiles and starts running her fingers through his soft curly hair. she says quietly, "get some rest will. you'll feel better."

"thank you for coming to get us baby."

"always. now rest will. i love you and i'll be here when you get up." she kisses the top of his head and he cracks a small smile. he mumbles back, "love you too dani."

he quickly falls asleep and when he wakes up hours later, he feels so much better. dani asks, "how's the head?"

"a lot better. thank you though, seriously. for getting us." will says presses a soft and loving kiss to dani's lips. she smiles, "always will."

they move to the living room while they decide on dinner and mack asks, "how you feeling smitty?"

"a lot better, had a great nurse." will says winking at dani. dani blushes and mack gags. he says, "gross. is this some weird kink thing you have smitty?"

"not everything is about sex mack." dani says sharply.

mack rolls his eyes, "with will, it definitely is."

"and for your information mack, it's not a kink thing. my girlfriend is just hot."

mack rolls his eyes and they start talking about dinner. will pulls dani tight into his side and kisses her head. grateful for her help and her taking care of him.

[strawberrysnoopy]

ACT ONE: The Photo-shoot, Part Two

prologue, part one

warnings: basic stuff (infidelity, mentions of sex and masturbation, ada slander, yadda, yadda), i also don't know how an er really works so..., brief mention of disordered eating habits but not an eating disorder (if that makes sense), foreshadowing (in the same chapter), almost sex but not yet sugar, blah blah, blah. I also can't write fight scenes so whatever. Also I promise that this will be the last dinner party esque scene in a while lol.

tags: @heylesamis, @sweetserial, @iloveyousomuch1989, @galactict3a, @m1sery-busin3ss, @ssulfurr, @julia13123, @nic-stars, @stillhavingdaddyissues, @greywardensaywhat thank you anons for your submissions and helping motivate me to continue this series!

Leon sat beside you in the emergency room, holding up an ice pack to his eye. You hated that out of all things to be concerned about right now, you were staring at his thick biceps and his veiny forearms like some cheap whore. The nurses who saw the both of you come in had looked at Leon first, so you were justified in staring. At least a little. "How's the eye?" You asked, reaching over and pulling the ice pack back a little so you could see the damage. A few capillaries in his eye had burst open, making his eye look all bloody and gross. The beginnings of a dark bruise were beginning to form. "Hurts. But nothing I haven't felt before." True, he was a government agent assigned to save the world over and over again: so this might be just a blip in his entire career. You nod, patting his arm and settling back into your seat beside him. Tonight hadn't been what you anticipated at all. You just wanted a cozy dinner with Leon and your husband to ease his loneliness. He was cooped up in his house and you knew he would neglect to feed himself. Leon wouldn't really consider himself a lonely man. He had friends to bide his time with when Ada was gone doing a mission. Your husband was one of those people, and of course, by instinct: the invite of friendship was gracefully extended to you. However, Leon would really hate to admit that you're the better in maintaining the friendship than your husband ever was. You were the one to start inviting him over for dinner when Ada was gone because you knew he'd probably put some half-assed attempt in feeding himself everyday. Not that he didn't know how to cook (he was quite an excellent one, in fact), he felt that it was kind of pointless if you ate when there wasn't someone to share the meal with.

Tonight was one of those nights for him. You texted him earlier this afternoon, offering him dinner and the company of friends. He could practically hear your soft voice from over the phone: the kindness you radiated with your mere presence lighting him up like the Fourth of July. Of course he had to accept your invitation, it's not like he had plans: other than sitting in his boxers, drinking and stare at the ceiling while he laid in bed. You were rather quick to trot over to the door when Leon came knocking. There was a stupid grin plastered on your face and with the way your eyes looked at him with a bright, glimmering shine glazing over them. "Leon!" You squeal, capturing him into your arms and swaying him back and forth. A low and rumbly chuckle escaped his throat while he hugged you, arms finding their home around your waist. Your husband's off somewhere in the house, if you had to guess accurately: by the fridge, contemplating how plastered he was planning on getting tonight in the shortest amount of time. Perhaps he'd go a little slower tonight, but you don't have much hope in him with the fact Leon's there. It might encourage him. Who knows.

"I appreciate you having me over tonight. So nice of you to make sure I'm never lonely." Among other things. But he's not squealing too soon. Your eyes longingly rake over his body, and god, the gall of this man to not appear in your life sooner and sweep you off of your feet. Noticing he's wearing something different, he smiles at you and pinches your cheek, muttering the same nickname he always called you.

Silly Girl.

God, fuck this man to the highest degree, you curse to yourself. And his attire?! Oh fuck him. You tried not to notice his attire. It was that of a somewhat dorky husband. Perhaps that’s what attracted Ada, perhaps that’s what made her hate him so much. Regardless, you loved the somewhat silly outfit on him of a gray sweatshirt he’s had since police academy, the lip of his boxers visible from above his jeans if he stretched his arms up (maybe bless your eyes and existence with the token appearance of his happy trail), and some semi-baggy jeans with his beat up shoes. He was a handsome man, and he seemed to know it. Yet, he still had enough a heart to be humble. Dinner was served quickly, everyone taking their seats at the table. Leon had praised you on your cooking skills with words (and a hand patting your thigh under the table. Hot.) The conversation was light-hearted, cheerful, but most of all, refreshing. The table had even gotten to the topic of firsts: obviously dancing over the first time any one of you had sex but you had a sneaky feeling your tipsy turning drunk husband would bring it up. "So, who was your first kiss, Leon?" You asked, taking a bite of the braised rib on your plate (that you worked your ass off on, might we add) while your head slowly turned over to meet his gaze. "Some girl in like...4th grade. She kissed me first. I don't even remember her name." You laugh, jokingly raising your hand to signal you were the same. "Anyone after that?" Leon shakes his head. "Just some college girls and Ada." The table falls silent, the sound of forks scraping against the plate and quiet chewing beginning to get on your nerves due to the fact nobody was speaking. "And after that?" Your husband chimes in and you realize you would rather just have the sounds of chewing and forks scraping than having him say something stupid. Leon shakes his head, assuming whatever your husband was trying to imply was a joke, but you knew better and you had a feeling he knew better as well. "Oh, come on, Leon. You're telling me you haven't at least kissed another woman after marrying Ada." He fights back an eye roll. You laugh. "Can't say I have." "No? Seriously. That's what makes relationship so healthy. Just a once in a while business trip where you're drowning in pussy." Your mouth dried. Blink and you'd miss it, Leon's cool facade cracks and shatters, a scowl overtaking his face. "Well. I'll have to think about that sometime." You look at him, noticing that he was threatening to say something. Something ballsy. Something that might, quite literally, have your soaked panties flung across the room. The look in your eyes was daring him to say it. The fucked part of you wanted to hear it.

"What if someone fucked your wife? Would it be any different?" And just like that, you're on fire. Of course you found it hot. Because his best friend, who is not supposed to have any romantic feelings towards his friend's wife mind you, was actually standing up for you. "The fuck you just say to me?" Leon gets up from his seat with a death glare that could kill any man but oh lord, you? You're fucking living for this. "You heard me. What if I fucked your wife? Would it be any different?" Your eyes widen, head snapping over to Leon. Oh, he wanted to fuck you? He wanted to fuck you? Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy shit! Within minutes, your husband tackles Leon and tries punching him but if you think he's winning this fight, you are sorely mistaken. Leon was a government agent and in seconds, he's on top of Ezra beating the lights out of him. After the shock (let's be honest here, giddiness) passes, you pull Leon off of your husband, mumbling to him to calm down. You were surprised when he had apologized and asked to take your husband to the emergency room.

Leon sat beside you in the emergency room, holding up an ice pack to his eye. You hated that out of all things to be concerned about right now, you were staring at his thick biceps and his veiny forearms like some cheap whore. The nurses who saw the both of you come in had looked at Leon first, so you were justified in staring. At least a little.

"How's the eye?" You asked, reaching over and pulling the ice pack back a little so you could see the damage. A few capillaries in his eye had burst open, making his eye look all bloody and gross. The beginnings of a dark bruise were beginning to form.

"Hurts. But nothing I haven't felt before." True, he was a government agent assigned to save the world over and over again: so this might be just a blip in his entire career. You nod, patting his arm and settling back into your seat beside him. Tonight hadn't been what you anticipated at all. You just wanted a cozy dinner with Leon and your husband to ease his loneliness. He was cooped up in his house and you knew he would neglect to feed himself. "I'm sorry." He murmured to you, referencing the least important elephant in the room. "About him...cheating on you. If it's any consolation, I'm sure he's not—" You interrupt him.

"He is. It's nothing I don't already know." He nodded, finally taking your hand in his own and running his calloused thumb across the soft and vastly explored top half of your hand. Your husband cheated on you. Something you had dreaded for so long when you first met him but now the fact was spoken into the air just felt like...relief. Like you didn't have to play the guessing game anymore. You weren't acting in a role of a dumb, clueless housewife bobbling around with her mouth and legs open if your husband so chose to have mercy on your needs and finally have mediocre sex with you. "And I also want to apologize for what I said. About fucking you. I wouldn't actually do that to you, yeah? I was just pissed he said that stuff to you." You both know it's bullshit. You both know he wants to fuck. You both know he sleeps with Ada wishing it was you. You pat his arm. "It's okay." A nurse arrives into the waiting room, clipboard totted on her side and a much too relieved poker face gracing her features. "Your husband is alright. We admitted him for a few days to monitor his status, make sure nothing odd pops up. Just needed a few stitches and painkillers so he should be fine." The both of you took that as a cue to take off for the night. Although Leon had been wondering if you'd even visit him in the hospital after the whole cheating confession thing, probably not. Getting up from your seats, Leon takes you by the hand and walks you out to your car. The night air was a soothing chill against your skin, the warmth of Leon's palm bursting through the layers of cold your body temperature had managed to build up. "If you ever decide to....y'know...divorce him. You can always stay with us for a bit while you get back on your feet." His hand rubbed up and down your arm, soothing you like you had lost something very special to you. Which you had: your husband. But that was long ago and the admission was a long time coming: the band-aid had been ripped off of your skin and the pain had subsided. "Thank you." You whisper. He nods. His eyes flicker down to your lips, hand moving from the side of your cold arm to your cheek. His thumb caresses your bottom lip and moving dangerously close to the inside of your mouth. In his eyes, they're zoned out, almost like he's reminiscing of Ada. But you're not Ada. You're you. And that's what has him writhing with lustful agony. But the problem was that there was still a woman he was betrothed to and as much as he hated it, he had a duty to be loyal to her. He hadn't ever broken that loyalty to her and he's not starting anytime soon. With a sigh, he pulls away from you. "I'll see you around, yeah?" He doesn't even let you respond before he awkwardly pats your arm and leaves you alone in the hospital parking lot, leaving you wanting for more. "...Bye." You mumble, getting into your own car to drive home. But on the ride home, Leon's left you wondering. Wondering what would happen if he had just thrown caution to the wind and kissed you. But he was right. You were both married. The most tragic thing of all being that it's not to each-other.

[edelfan]

“I hate you! I don't ever wanna see your face again!”

Over 1 year later…

“Pete, I know you just got back, but that's no excuse to leave your mess all over the house.”

Having just come home from work, Ice had to bypass Mav’s jacket and horrendous cowboy boots in the middle of the hallway, an empty beer bottle and crumbs of chips leading him to the other man lounging on the couch.

“But you still love me.”

Mav was tiredly smiling up at him, making Ice shake his head fondly.

“Sometimes I wonder why. Even Bradley wasn't-”

Groaning frustratingly, Ice pulled his ringing cell phone out of his pocket, frowning at the unknown number on the display.

“Ignore it…”

“You know I can't… Kazansky, hello?”

“Hello, my name is Gracie Bushman. I’m a nurse at St. Joseph’s Rehabilitation and Care Center in Maryland. Am I speaking to Rear Admiral Thomas Kazansky?”

“Speaking. How may I help you, ma’am?”

“I was referred to you because I’m looking for someone called ‘Mav’ or ‘Maverick’? Also someone possibly nicknamed ‘Ice’?”

“Maverick, Commander Pete Mitchell, is my… wingman from my active days as a naval aviator. That's his callsign, mine was Iceman. But why-?”

“I think you need to come to Maryland as soon as possible.”

~~~

“Thank you for coming so fast.”

Mav and Ice had taken the first flight to Washington, their minds still reeling with what they had heard, now following Gracie through the hallways of the rehab center.

“No problem at all. So, this patient…”

“He had been admitted to hospital as a John Doe after being involved in a car accident. There had been nothing on him to identify him. He had suffered severed head injuries, leaving him in a coma and a vegetative state for several weeks before he was transferred here. He’s been with us for over three months when he slowly started showing signs of awareness. A few weeks ago he started to mumble words, but they didn't make any sense to us at first. But he seemed persistent, so I started researching…”

“And that's how you found us.”

Pete’s voice was barely audible when they finally stopped in front of a door.

“Yeah. Now, before going in, you need to know that he sustained severe scarring in the accident as well. It might take him a while to focus on you. Whatever happens, try not to stress him too much.”

Mav and Ice could only nod as Gracie knocked on the door.

“Hey, honey, you got some visitors today…”

The young man in the bed didn't look up at first. He was pale and thin, red scars all over his face, but there was no doubt…

“Oh my God, Bradley…”

They couldn't hold themselves back anymore. Soon enough Mav was almost crawling onto the bed, wrapping Bradley into his arms as Ice grabbed his boney hands and didn't let go.

“Oh baby goose…”

Very slowly Bradley’s eyes started to take them in and suddenly a loud sob ripped through him. Floods of tears were running down his cheeks.

“Da… Pop…”

There was no single dry eye in the room at this moment.

“Yeah, baby, we’re here… we’re here.”