#but it's less noticeable bc she isn't talking

[zachdanielswhisky]

really interested to know if this is a consistent issue with other places doing this skit, or if it's just at volo's, but the way beach bear just shuts down here is kinda funny lmao

(skit following Retro Medley/Young At Heart, recorded 9/30 and 10/12 respectively!)

[vxsellie]

OMGOMGOMGOMGOMG AND THEN WITH THE AMOUNT OF MAKEUP READER SPENT HOURS CHOOSING SHE DOES ELLIE'S MAKEUP :3333

Iloveyawritingdidisaidthat

summary. ellie williams x hyper-femme!reader headcannons notes. ok so i may or may not have lost your initial req???? dont ask how that happened bc i literally have no idea. tumblr fucking disintegrates my asks sometimes & now ur first one is fucking gone?? i have some good news tho! i took a ss so i can still write exactly what u wanted, but i just can't reply to it normally & have to instead respond to this one :((( warnings. foul language, kissing, idk?? there's basically no warnings, this is literally tooth-rotting fluff

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪┆despite your opposing tastes, ellie fucking adores you. she literally couldn't care less for what clothes you wear or how you present yourself. she loves you and thats that, nothing else matters.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪┆what she can't stand, however, is fucking shopping.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪┆the crowds of people, the smell of perfumes, the sound of crinkling bags, the feel of so many eyes. oh how she hates it.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪┆but the moment you enter the mall and she watches you face light up, her own personal misery is made worth it. every ounce of loathing in her body vanishes, leaving her with only adoration and love for the excited girl beside her.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪┆you're unafraid to spend hours in one store, making sure to sift through each and every article of clothing the store has to offer. your eyes are bright, your hands moving fluidly. it's almost alluring to simply watch you in your natural habitat.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪┆ellie stands over your shoulder, arms crossed as she watches you. as you sidestep to another rack of clothes, your mouth is moving at a shocking speed, speaking about something completely fucking random. and if ellie's being completely honest, she hasn't processed a single word.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪┆"how d'you think this would look?" you ask, spinning on your heel to face ellie. you're holding a top in front of your torso, peering down at yourself as you struggle to envision yourself wearing it.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪┆"uh, i dunno," she replies, giving a nonchalant shrug as she averts her eyes.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪┆you groan at her lack of interest, tossing the shirt over your folded arm and mentally reminding yourself to try it on before you leave.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪┆as you two continue to float about the shop, you take notice to ellie's misery. you've been talking about cheese for the past ten minutes just to see if she'd say something. and, just as you'd suspected, she didn't. she simply nodded and hummed along just as she'd been doing all day.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪┆suddenly, your gaze lands on something that you're sure will get her attention. in an attempt at subtlty, you direct her over there, moving around as casually as possible as to prevent her noticing what you're heading toward.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪┆"what about this then?" you ask, grabbing another shirt. you hold it in front of yourself. she hums, raising a brow as she looks you up and down. her eyes suddenly widen at the sight.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪┆"please buy it." she begs. her wide eyes are still pinned to the shirt in your hands as she utters a second, "please?"

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪┆you giggle at her desperation, "okay. i'll buy the shirt if you promise me something."

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪┆"anything."

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪┆"i want you to promise me that you'll be less boring." you tell her with a pointed expression. "for the rest of the day."

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪┆"what? i haven't been boring!" she's quick to defend herself, face controrted with offence, showing her sincerity in her belief of innocence.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪┆"yes you have! you haven't been listening to me at all!" you exclaim before crossing your arms with a pout. "you look confounded."

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪┆see, you and ellie have been together for four years. you know her and she knows you. and you both know that this isn't an actual argument. it's just a small moment of bickering between you. however, despite the lack of seriousity to the discussion, your emotions are still just as real as they would be if you were actually arguing.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪┆ellies face drops. she didn't mean to make you feel unheard or anything of that sort. she grabs you hand, tracing gentle circles along the hills of your knuckles. she gives you an apologetic glance. "i'm sorry baby, it's—" she frowns, "i don't enjoy this the way you do."

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪┆"i know," you sigh. you adjust your hands so that the pad of your thumb is fumbling with her forefinger. you trace the small scar there, a tiny cut in the bed of her nail that you've memorized the placement of. "i just love shopping, and i love you. and i love being with you. i just— i wish you liked it as much as i do because i have tons of fun shopping with you, even if you hate it. simply being in your company makes me happy, els."

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪┆she frowns, brows furrowing as she thinks. when an idea strikes her, she gives you a mischevious smirk. "how about this." she points at the bundled shirt on your arm. the one she begged you to buy only moments prior to this. "i'll buy that dinosaur shirt for you. but you have to wear it for the rest of the day. if you do that, i promise to do whatever you want me to. i'll even go in the perfume store."

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪┆you glance down at the shirt. it's black and frayed and absolutely not your style. it looks like something you'd find in a dumpster — hence the reason ellie had begged you to buy it. she knew it wasn't something you'd never wear. and, on top of that, there's a design in the center depicting a skeleton of a dinosaur smoking a cigarette with sunglasses.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪┆ellie watches you with an amused expression, interested to hear your reply. finally, you look up at her with a smirk, "deal."

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪┆the rest of the day is spent in mirth. you tried on your clothes and ellie accompanied you in the dressing room, zipping your shirt for you and commenting on which ones she liked. then, when you put on the dinosaur shirt, she had to cover her mouth to stop herself from bursting out with laughter.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪┆your usually bright and feminine style was now tainted by ellie's stupid dino shirt. but the sight of her wide smile was enough to make you leave the dressing room with it under your arm.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪┆then, as promised, ellie paid. you thanked her endlessly, swinging her hand as you two exited the store. with your hands still intertwined, she dragged you off into the bathroom and made you put on the dinosaur shirt. you egressed the girls' bathroom with a pout on your lips; an amused smirk on ellie's.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪┆after that, you went to the food court and got smoothies. this time, you refused to let ellie pay (she ended up doing it anyway behind your back).

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪┆smoothies in hand, you made your way toward the perfume store — ellie's least favorite.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪┆all week, you'd been complaining about how you'd ran out of yor favorite perfume and had to use your backup. ellie reassured you that you still smelt great, but you felt no consolation from her words. so, when you dragged her to the mall, she knew you were bound to drag her to the perfume store as well. she's been (very verbally) dreading it all day.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪┆"oh my gosh!" you squealed upon entering the store. ellie wrinkled her nose at the scent, her expression instantly turning sour. you rolled your eyes, grabbing her hand and dragging her over to a specific shelf. "ellie, look! they have my favorite!"

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪┆"perfect. grab it and we can leave." she grumbled.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪┆at the sound of her complaining, an idea popped into your head. a cruel one, yes, but an idea nonetheless. ellie quickly noticed the look on your face, her entire demeanor sagging with trepidation for what you're about to say.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪┆"actually, els, i heard they just revieced a ton of new autumn scents." you said, running your hand down her arm innocently. "would you be the best girlfriend ever and help me choose a second perfume?"

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪┆she glared at you, "a second? you already have fifty!"

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪┆"what was our deal, baby?" you remind her, tugging down at the hem of your shirt to draw her attention to the hippie dino she forced you into.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪┆with a frown, she agrees to your conditions. you nearly jump with excitement, grabbing her hand as you pull her over to the newly-stocked autumn shelves. you take time to sniff every single one, shoving the bottle into ellie's nose right after. she coughs and hacks dramatically each time, causing some other shoppers to glance in your direction.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪┆eventually, the you narrow the choices down to two scents that you like the most. ellie gave you her opinion a few times, but mostly prefers to just smile and nod befrore choking back a gag at the strong smell of the store,

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪┆"damn it, i don't know which one to pick. this one is more sweet and isn't as strong. but that one is more tangy and stronger." you mutter to yourself, holding a bottle in each hand as you glance between the both of them alternately. ellie watches with an unreadable expression as you struggle to pick. with a pitiful frown, you turn to ellie for help. she roll her eyes, but ends up pointing to the one in your left hand. you scowl at her "oh you're just saying that because it's less strong."

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪┆"well, yes, that plays a factor." she admits. "but i also like that scent more, eucalyptus is nice at this time of year. plus, the sweetness suits you better than the tang."

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪┆you stare at her with a soft smile, pupils blown. you stand on your tip toes and press a kiss to her lips. "thanks, els. it means a lot to me that you put effort into your decision."

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪┆she kisses you back, pulling you flush against her. she's needy and passionate. you giggle against her, having to pry yourself from her arms to get away from her personified desire. she frowns but lets you go, once again insisting to pay when the two of you reach the counter. this time you manage to pay without her tricking you.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪┆the next store is the makeup shop. she helps you pick out the right foundation, having memorized everything about you down to your exact skin tone. she picks out the correct one within seconds — something that would have taken you half an hour to find. she then picks out your lipstick, begging you to buy the brightest red imaginable as she claims it'd be funny.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪┆after that, you go to the jewlery store, purchasing a new pair of earrings and a few bracelets. the lady who worked there was super sweet, aiding you with your pick when you were trying to decide between two options.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪┆"got you something," ellie whispers into her ear as the two of you exit the shop. you give her a curious look, wondering what she's gotten up to this time. ellie reaches behind her back to reveal a bag from the jewlery store. you raise a brow at this. she pulls a necklace from inside, a pink diamond pendant at the center. you've been dying for a necklace like this for weeks. you hadn't even realized ellie knew about your yearning for one. "d'you like it?"

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪┆"like it?" you ask. "baby, i love it!"

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪┆you turn around and she clasps it on for you, her fingers grazing your the skin on the back of your neck. your hairs stand on end at the feel of her touch, suddenly longing for more of her.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪┆the rest of the day, you can't peel your eyes away from your new necklace. you toy with it while shopping and you admire it whenever you pass a window or mirror or literally anything reflective. ellie smiles to herself every time she catches you doing this, proud of herself for having picked it out for you.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪┆she had bribed that worker lady into talking to you while she picked it out and bought it, distracting you from ellie for a few minutes. you were so caught up in the stranger's kindness that you hadn't even realized.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪┆when you two get home, ellie collapses down onto the couch, her eyes instantly sinking shut at the feel of the cushion swallowing her whole.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪┆you allow her a few minutes to relax, rushing about your shared apartment as you add your newly purchased belongings to your closet, bathroom, jewlery box, and makeup bag. all the while, you can't help but find yourself enjoying the stupid dino shirt. it's comfy and reminds you of ellie's love for you.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪┆"els!" you call out from the bathroom while you're adding your new tube of mascara to your bag. in a matter of seconds ellie is in the bathroom with you, asking what's wrong. you peck her cheek before pushing her down onto the closed toilet seat.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪┆she's confused at first, eyes wide. but then you turn to face her with your makeup in your hands and she instantly grimaces. "oh god no."

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪┆"please, baby?" you plead, giving her your best puppy dog eyes.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪┆she rolls her own, deciding to just give in. after the long day she's had, why not just continue to give you what you want? plus, after all she's been through, she ought to admit shopping isn't that bad. you were right. it's fun to simply be in the company of someone you love.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪┆you kneel in front of her, wide smile on your face. you decide to only do a few small things — eyeliner, mascara, lipstick, and a bit of blush.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪┆the eyeliner takes for fucking ever because ellie has no idea how to stop moving. not to mention, she squeezes her eyes every time you get too close for comfort, which causes the eyeliner to smudge and rub away. after a horrifyingly long amount of time spent on perfecting the liner, you finally move on to mascara.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪┆you order her to open her eye and look up while you cake the makeup on. she does as she's told, opening them as you instruct. she's almost proud of herself until she ends up blinking every time the mascara touches her lashes.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪┆"oh my god, ellie," you say through laughter, on the verge of giving up.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪┆"don't laugh at me!" she exclaims. "i feel stupid enough as is."

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪┆"no you look beautiful, baby." you assure her, lenaing forward to give her a tiny kiss on her lips. "it's just funny because i know how strong you are. to watch someone so utterly fearless flinching at a mascara brush is fucking hilarious."

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪┆"okay yeah, that's pretty funny."

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪┆when you finally manage to get the mascara on her (yes it's all around her eyes and on her eyelids), you move on to add lipstick. the moment you pop open the lid, she's grinning at you.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪┆"what're you so giddy about?" you ask her with an amused expression.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪┆"what? nothing." she says, turning away from you with a genuine frown.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪┆when the realization hits you that ellie is actually excited to put on lipstick, you decide not to tease her. you know how much ellie struggles with femininity, uncomfortable in dresses and therefore feeling inferior in her own body.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪┆she doesn't want to wear dresses. not necessarily. it's just the fact that she'd grown up wearing baggy clothes and being bullied for looking like a boy. sometimes she doesn't feel like she could ever fit in with girls or relate to them on any level despite being one herself.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪┆it's a dauntingly complex relationship she has with her girlhood, but you're always sure to be sensitive around the topic.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪┆she opens her mouth and you rub the lipstick along her lips. she blinks a few times, her eyes still feeling uncomfy with the feel of the heavy mascara and restricting eyeliner.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪┆you stare at her mouth for longer than you'd care to admit, admiring the plush pink to the skin. the moment you finish, she's rubbing her lips together the way she'd watched you do so many times in the mornings when getting ready. you watch her with a small smile, enamored by everything to do with her.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪┆"you're so pretty, ellie." you say. "i'm really lucky to have you, y'know that?"

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪┆"i'm luckier."

⊹ ࣪ ˖𐙚 perm. taglist. @luvsturniolo @xlovla @kasqnxx @ilovewomenfr @zzombiegirl @elliessweetheart

[ashwhowrites]

So I had this idea, that Dustin had two older sisters who are twins. Steve didn’t notice anything while at high school he doesn’t know. So one day he comes into work and asks Robin, “did you know about the Henderson twins? And why is one dating Eddie The Freak Munson?” Dustin starts trying to get Steve to date his other sister. Steve agrees reluctantly but doesn’t expect the sister to be hot and dislike him, bc of high school. He has work to do.

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting🫶🏻

Date my sister

Steve was popular in high school, which meant everyone knew him but he knew no one outside his friend group. He started to notice people once he graduated and realized being popular hurt you more in the long run. Which is why his friends are Robin and freshmen.

Steve walked into work, a sigh on his lips as he clocked in. Robin had been bouncing on her feet all morning waiting for him to arrive. She had new information and she loved talking to Steve. He was a talker like her, so he didn't get annoyed with her last words.

"Did you know Dustin has twin sisters? Around our age, and one of them is dating Eddie Munson!" Robin lived for gossip and Steve was a sucker for it.

"Holy shit, no way," Steve scoffed, "I've known that kid for years and never heard about them."

"Yeah! They graduated with you, you never noticed them?" Robin asked.

"Well no, but I didn't look outside my friend group. But still! How could Dustin never say anything? And why have I been using my gas when he had two sisters to drive his ass around." Steve knew he had to talk to Dustin the next time he saw him.

~~~

Dustin was on Steve's tail before he could confront Dustin.

"Please! Ever since Eddie has been around, Y/N has gotten more lonely. Which means she's getting a temper and being moody. I think you would like her, just ask her out." Dustin pleaded. He needed his house to be less angsty and more fun.

"Dustin, I don't know. No offense, but a girl version of you doesn't sound like my type."

"I've seen girls you've asked out. You are desperate enough to ask anyone." Dustin argued back, a bored look on his face.

"Shut up," Steve groaned

~

Steve knocked on Henderson's door, then moved his hands to his back pockets. He waited for the door to open, thinking of how to ask Y/N out when he'd never seen her before. He promised Dustin to give it a shot, but one shot.

He looked as the door opened, and his jaw dropped.

"Dustin isn't here," she said, already closing the door. But Steve shoved his foot in, hissing as she kept closing it.

"I'm here for Y/N," he said, a sigh of relief when she opened the door again. A suspicious look in her eyes.

"Why?" she asked

Steve wasn't sure which twin he was talking to, but he prayed it was Y/N. Because she was beautiful, and Steve could already feel that he needed her. She wore casual clothes to relax at home, her legs on display. Steve couldn't help but check her out, his eyes leading him up her tank top and back to her face.

"Y/N, WHO'S AT THE DOOR?"

Steve smiled as his prayers were answered.

"STEVE" she yelled back. A good enough answer for her mom as she went silent.

"I want to ask you out on a date," Steve admitted. He stood terrified under her heated eyes.

"Oh really?" She asked, her arms crossed with a scoff. "Why's that? You obviously had no idea it was me when I opened the door. You had no clue who I was in high school, so why are you randomly interested?"

Steve had no idea if lying or telling the truth was best, but he went with the truth.

"Dustin wanted me to ask you out and at f-"

"Yeah, I don't need the charity date." She cut him off as she slammed the door shut.

Well, he asked and that's all he promised Dustin.

~~~

"YOU IDIOT! I THOUGHT YOU WERE GOOD AT TALKING TO GIRLS" Dustin yelled as he raced into the video store.

Robin immediately laughed with a scoff, "Who ever said that?"

"One of you at a time please!" Steve begged, moving his eyes to the younger and pissed-off boy.

"She asked why I was suddenly asking her out and I wasn't going to lie. She'd see right through it. I figured she'd be less pissed off. It was like the second she saw me, she hated me." Steve explained.

"Well, she's pissed! I had to listen to twenty minutes of her bitching me out on the way to school and when she picked me up. Turns out she hates you, dude! Being an asshole in high school really impacted some people." Dustin explained

"Yeah, I learned that. But I asked her out and she said no. So my job is done." Steve said, holding his hands in surrender.

"Then you need to make her like you!" Dustin argued

"Why?" Steve asked, his hands on the counter as he leaned over to stare at him.

"She'll never admit it, but she's lonely. She needs someone, and well I trust you to not hurt her" Dustin shrugged

"But she hates me, why would she change her mind?" Steve asked

"Show her the new you. The changed Steve. Sweep her off of her feet. Do whatever dumb stuff you do to make girls like you." Dustin explained.

"I'll try," Steve sighed. Because honestly, he hadn't stopped thinking about her.

~~~

The next time he saw her, she was bringing Dustin to the video store. He didn't notice he was fixing his hair until Robin poked fun at him. He shrugged her off and walked to open the door. Dustin gave him a sly thumbs up.

"Welcome in," Steve greeted

"Since when do you open doors for customers?" Y/N asked, but walking through the opened door.

"I don't, just you," he said, smirking as he walked behind her cutting Dustin off.

"Oh right, now trying to win me over?" Y/N asked, smiling over her shoulder.

"Let me know if it ever starts working," he said with a wink. She hated herself for watching him walk away.

~

Y/N was relaxing in her front yard. A book opened as she felt the warm breeze through her hair.

"Hello, gorgeous," Steve said as he walked up to her. She could feel the sun being blocked by his body, making her look up.

Steve had his hands in his pockets, smiling down at her with those pink lips. She cursed at herself for wanting to smile back.

"How can I help you?" she asked, shielding her eyes with her hand.

"Dustin wants to go to the arcade, you wanna come?" He asked, "promise you won't be the third wheel." He scrunched down, his knees bent as now he was closer to her eye level.

She inhaled his cologne and hated how she loved the smell of it. It was easier to hate him when he wasn't right next to her.

"I'll pass," she said with as much sass as she could. Trying to keep up her unbothered attitude. She went back to her book, ignoring the burn she felt from his eyes.

"Maybe next time," he said, standing up as Dustin walked out.

~

"Dustin please go with me?" Y/N begged. Her favorite band was in town and she really wanted to go. Her sister had a date with Eddie and she refused to ditch. None of her friends liked the band, and she didn't want to go alone.

"I already have plans with Mike, but you know who is free tonight?" Dustin hinted as he wiggled his eyebrows.

"Absolutely not," Y/N said, shaking her head. She knew what he was going to say, and she could not be alone with Steve. It was getting harder to keep up her act when being with him broke it all down. She can't imagine being alone with him, she's pretty sure she would fall for him. And she couldn't. She needed to be strong.

"Here's his number. Just call him," Dustin said. He went out the door and left Steve's number behind.

She stared at the digits until they began to move.

"Fuck me," she sighed to herself. She punched in the numbers and listened as it rang.

"Steve," she froze as she heard his voice on the line. She took a deep breath and reminded herself it was just a boy.

"Hey Steve, it's Y/N," she said. She could hear him starting to move, and a lot of commotion.

Steve hissed out as he stubbed his toe against his bed, trying to ignore the pain as he rushed to the other side of his room. He was already stripping out of his PJs.

"Oh hey!" he said through heavy breaths, "what's up?" His voice cracked and he smacked himself in the face.

"Look you weren't my first choice so don't think this means anything. But, would you like to go to a concert with me?" She asked, closing her eyes. A part of her already regretted asking.

"Um yeah, when is it? I can take off work." He asked, he could feel his heart racing so fast.

"In like two hours," she said

Steve looked at his watch. "Shit, um yes! I need to rearrange some things but I'll be at your place in an hour."

And with that, he hung up.

After an hour, Y/N was finishing getting ready. She finished her lipstick as Steve knocked on the door. She smiled at her reflection and began walking towards the front door. She smoothed out her shirt and jeans before she opened it.

Once it was open, Steve came into view. He stood there in a blue short sleeve and dark jeans. And a beautiful bouquet of roses.

"Wow," Steve said, rubbing his chin as he took her in. "You're always gorgeous, but wow."

"Thank you," she said as she felt her face burn. "You look very nice too."

"Thank you, these are for you." He said as he handed over the flowers. She reached forward to grab them, shivering as his touch sent electricity through her.

"Thank you, Steve. But you know this isn't a date." She clarified.

"I know, but still felt like I shouldn't show up empty-handed."

~

They arrived at the small bar, Steve was a gentleman as he opened her car door and the bar door. She hated how sweet he was. He grabbed her a drink and they moved through the crowd.

"Ready?" she asked, a playful smile on her face as she stood in the middle of the pit.

"For what?" he yelled into her ear, shocked when her hand slipped into his. He felt his face burn as he looked down to see their hands interlocked.

"TO GET TO THE FRONT," she yelled. Steve went to say something but then she began pushing through the crowd. He gripped her hand tighter as she made her way to the front, he kept apologizing to everyone.

He felt like it was wrong but once they made it to the very front of the stage, he was amazed by the stage.

"Oh wow, I've never been front row before," he said. He was hoping she wouldn't remember that they were holding hands.

"It's the best way to experience a concert. I've seen them every time they come to town and refuse to not be front row." Steve loved the way her eyes lit up as she talked about it. And how her body softly moved to the music that played throughout the bar's speakers.

"I haven't experienced many concerts. Always too loud for me," Steve laughed, taking a sip of his cold drink.

"Oh, if you don't like them, you didn't have to say yes," Y/N said, feeling a tad guilty for dragging him into something he didn't enjoy.

"Are you kidding? No way in the world I would say no to you asking me out," he said, a charming smile on his face.

I asked you to join me! Not ask you out," she said, but her smile was playful. It seemed like she was warming up to him.

He was in awe of her smile, but then the lights went dark and everyone screamed. They stared at each other as the stage lit up, not looking away until the band began to play. She turned to look at the stage, and he kept his eyes on hers.

She let go of his hand to clap. Jumping as the band performed. Steve had never seen her so loose and fun, not that he had much time to be with her. He was happy to be here in the moment, and so happy Robin took his shift.

The rest of the show went amazing. Steve danced to every song with her, holding his drink, and keeping eyes on everyone around her. It seemed her drink broke down some walls as she moved until her body was pressed against Steve's. He tried to keep his calm as her ass pressed against his jeans. He placed his free hand on her hip, the other one holding his unfinished drink. Their bodies moved together to the live music, he felt like his head was in the clouds as he inhaled her perfume and shampoo.

He could feel himself getting slightly turned on, chugging the rest of his drink and tossing it to the floor. The drink made his body hot, and her body felt hot when he placed both hands on her hips. He started dancing against her, she turned around and hooked her arms around his neck.

"ENJOYING THE BAND?" She yelled into his ear, her lips ghosting over his ear.

"I'M ENJOYING SOMETHING ELSE," he yelled into her ear, pulling away. His face was inches away from hers, he was getting lost in her eyes and didn't notice he was leaning in.

Her heart sped up as she looked into his deep brown eyes, she looked down at his lips as he leaned in. She softly played with the end of his hair near his neck as she closed the space between them.

Steve was slightly stunned as she kissed him, but kissed her back. His hands moved up to the bottom of her back as he deepened the kiss. The sound of the band and cheering fans faded as she felt his tongue slip inside her mouth. She tangled her hand in his hair, yanking it. She bit down on his lip and used her grip on his hair to pull him away. He stared in awe as she yanked his bottom lip and then released it.

"GOODNIGHT EVERYBODY!"

The band left the stage, and the crowd began to break apart. But they stood tangled together.

"Do you kiss like that to everyone you ask to join you?" Steve joked

"I don't, just you," she said, leaning in and kissing him again.

Steve owed Dustin big time.

[symp4nat]

"Even Aphrodite envies you."

clarisse la rue x fem!reader

authors note: post 10 pm cry write guys i need to pee, this is a vent fic. also, headcanon that you call clarisse "risse" pronouned Reese bc awwwwwww

summary - you talk about ur body negatively

warnings - talk about body image, over excercizing, not eating/skipping meals, descriptions of body, flashbacks, itty bitty mentions of praying to not greek gods

Thud.

I wasn't enough.

Thwap.

"You need to work out, you're getting too big, and you're only 14," my mother said. I gulped and sat down. "Can we just... pray," I asked. "You need to fix it, usually, girls your age are body conscious.... haven't you seen [friend's name]? That was such a transformation," my dad said.

Thump.

"She lost so much weight, Y/N/N, why don't you do the same? Most people will do things when they see their friends are doing it," my mother said.

Thomp. My mother put her hand on my shoulder-

I went to punch the person who put their hand on me. They caught my hand and I sighed as I saw it was my girlfriend. Clarisse grabbed both of my hands and rubbed my knuckles. "How about we take a break, hm?"

I shook my head. I had to do this.

"Please, no more boxing for the day, you've been overworking yourself," she continued. "Risse, I'm fine.. I've got this," I reassured her.

"Just please, you've been boxing for at least two hours, maybe take a break, okay," she squeezed my hands and walked off. I sighed and went to the archery range.

I grabbed a fairly sized bow and then a set of arrows. I began to shoot around, not necessarily being good at it.

Thwip.

"Y/n, why'd you get new clothes, your old ones were cute," my friends exclaimed. I shrugged. "No need for old clothes..."

Thwap.

"Why don't we all go for a run, some of us need it," my friends said. I looked down and said, "We aren't all wearing tennis shoes."

Shhhk!

They never necessarily spoke much about my own weight, but they all weighed less than me and called themselves fat. They all were skinny or at least average.

"Y/n/n? Please, go rest, I bet you're tired," Clarisse sighed as she noticed me at the archery range. "I'm fine," I defended. "Go get some lunch, or I'll get some for you," she said. I shook my head. "I got it. Thanks, babe," I said.

-

"C'mon, angel, wanna sit on my lap, maybe take a nap," Clarisse asked. I laughed and shook my head, "You rhymed. And, no, it's... alright.."

Clarisse's eyes became sympathetic. "Baby, is it because this," she asked as you placed her hands on what she called my "love handles" and my hip dips. I looked down and shrugged.

"Baby, that isn't a big deal, you're truly beautiful... do- do you not believe me," Clarisse asked. She pulled me onto her lap and I looked down at my hands. "Hey, eyes on me," she said.

My eyes darted back up to hers and she said, "Would you like to know something really cool?" I nodded and she continued, "I think.. no- I know... That even Aphrodite would be jealous of your beauty."

My eyes began to fill with tears as I buried my head into her neck. "I love you, I don't deserve you," I said as tears stained her shirt. "I love you most, and yes you do, okay? You absolutely do, pretty girl," she said gently to me as her hands relaxed on my hips.

She leaned back on the bed and pulled me back so I could lay on top of her. "I doubt you wanna talk about it later... but how about we nap for now? And just... please... never... over exercise or over work yourself, angel," I nodded as she spoke and closed my eyes. There wasn't anything I could have done to have just to have someone as caring and supporting her.

[ellieslaces]

NOTHING’S GONNA HURT YOU, BABY.

featuring: leon kennedy x fem!agent!reader x ashley graham

synopsis: ashley graham's biggest weakness is attractive people, especially kind, attractive people. she was not expecting to be saved by two of the hottest, kindest people she'd ever met, much less to end up crushing on the both of them

content warnings: harsh language; mentions of violence; tension; lots of flirtatious banter; ashley shooting her shot for an entire fic basically; mentions of reader being bisexual; light smut; kissing (f!f & f!m); one bed trope; forced proximity; no real smut bc idk how to write a threesome :(

notes: takes place on the way back from Spain (technically post RE4R); one bed-ish trope (r&leon share a bed, and a room with ashley); ashley is sort of confused about her sexuality; semi-established relationship (r&leon); really more of a sibling dynamic between ashley and leon (it sounds weird, but its balanced in the actual fic, i promise)

word count: 6.13k (i’m so sorry)

chloe talks: was this entirely inspired by @postersofleon ? yeah, i read this post a week or so ago and i'm losin' sleep over it. so full credits to @postersofleon for the plot! luv their lil' drabble :) also, sorry this isn't more of a threesome fic. if it were a triple female threesome, i could work with that, but add a dick into it, i'm clueless. anyways, enjoy ashley fumbling for this whole fic (luv her, i just can't help embarrassing her shes so cute). also, please appreciate this, i wrote around 80% of this while i was supposed to be studying for an exam. that’s on adhd and procrastination :)

now playing: Nohings Gonna Hurt You Baby; Cigarettes After Sex

It is entirely possible that blondes were, indeed, your weakness. Sure, over the years, you'd come to realize there was something especially alluring about lighter hair - possibly the way it reminded you of the sun, or how each strand looked like spun gold. Although, what seemed to seal your fate was the ever dangerous pairing of blonde hair and blue eyes. Oh, how alluring and damning was the color of icy blue coupled with silvery, silken strands.

For a time, you believed your weakness was encompassed only within your field partner, Leon S. Kennedy. God, how handsome was that agent. Not only handsome, but brave, and kind - awkwardly so, but it really is the principle of the thing. It was painstakingly obvious to everyone, other than Leon it seemed, that you were completely and forlornly in love with him. It seemed you were equally as blind to the evidence that Leon Kennedy was also miserably in love with you.

But the one person who noticed it upon first glance was Ashley Graham. Not only for the clear obviousness of the situation, but because the feeling was entirely, and unfortunately mutual. And it was this girl who also awoke the realization within you that Leon was not the only blonde-haired, blue-eyed person you found enticing.

Though, you were not the only one in this clandestine triad who had an impending weakness for certain types of people. No, you were not, Ashley had an Achilles heel for graciously kind people. Not just kind, but attractive. Not in a shallow or superficial way, but to say more that a person would catch her eye. She had no pre-existing physical type - no particular hair color, eye color, or even height preference. Just that they be kind. And much to the First Daughter's dismay, you were both horribly kind. In your own respective ways, of course.

Leon — as aforementioned — was awkwardly kind, despite how well he meant. He never knew exactly how to word his concern, or how to come about comforting someone. It was usually said in simple phrases such as “you okay?” or in way of one of many snarky comments he had stored in the deep recesses of his mind. Ashley thought he was funny; sometimes.

You, on the other hand, were painfully sweet to her. Always reassuring her that she was okay, and you were going to keep her safe. Field medic, that’s how Leon explained your role in her rescue. You were there to keep her and Leon healthy and in one piece, which you were startlingly good at. Any bruise or cut she procured was immediately treated by your sweet disposition and skilled hands. She liked how gentle you were with her.

So yes, Leon was kind in an awkward manner, and you were kind in a practical sense. And that devastating combination was her inevitable downfall.

From the moment you and Leon found her in that church, she knew she was fucked. Because, how could people look that good while doing the sort of jobs you had? There was no way, no way she would ever be able to form coherent sentences around you two. But, somehow, by some miracle, she got on with you both quite well. Despite the obvious moments of third-wheel-ism because you and Leon were so close.

There where multiple reoccurring occasions where Ashley suspected the pair of you may be together. Or at least fucking on the side. Because no two people who are just partners have that dynamic. The constant tension, the way Leon could be protective or even overbearing sometimes. The way you would rush to his side to patch up his wounds — no matter how small and minuscule they were — after a fight. Sometimes, despite how endearing it could be, Ashley was annoyed. Sure, you two had known each other for an extended period of time and had just met Ashley that day. But, it became so aggravating when you would consult each other without the inclusion of Ashley.

Many times you would apologize to her, expressing how sorry you were for leaving her out of conversations or hypothetical battle plans. It wasn’t that either of you thought she was stupid or couldn’t handle it. No, it was more along the lines that you were used to it just being the two of you. There was rarely ever a third party involved — other than Hunnigan chatting away in your ear pieces of course — in these types of situations.

Ashely was smitten, to put it lightly. She’d made several attempts to quote-unquote ‘shoot her shot’ with Leon. Little comments of how brave he was, how thankful she was for his saving her. Even calling him her ‘hero’ on one occasion or another. His name had posted permanent residence in her vocabulary it seemed.

However, her means of flattery with you was completely different. She was a little more bold with you, seeing as you were more of an open person than Leon was. She partook in the cliche, yet never failing flirtatious mannerisms — simple touches, giggling at your jokes, or simply sticking to your side in dangerous situations. It wasn’t that you didn’t notice, no, you just turned a conscious blind eye to it all. Ashley was a college girl, a sorority girl, a privileged girl. She was probably used to using flattery to get what she wanted, to gain the attention she so desperately thrived on.

Though as your time in the hostile Spanish village went on, you came to realize that it wasn’t superficial, Ashley’s flattery toward you and your field partner. Absolutely not, far from it. You realized after Leon had carried her to Luis’ laboratory and you managed to get the machine working to expel the parasite from her body, that Ashley was totally and completely smitten with the pair of you. She was attached in the worst way. And that would be your inevitable downfall.

Leon was consciously blind to it. Your partner — no matter his selfless tendencies and his awkwardly kind nature — was melancholic. He had a firm belief he was predestined to be miserable. That there was always another shoe waiting to drop. He didn’t deserve happiness, peace, love, a good life. So, he ignored it. He ignored how Ashley was equally as taken with him as she was with you. He didn’t bring it up, he didn’t even act like he noticed. Oh, but you did.

You saw the attachment so clearly by the time the three of you had managed to escape the crumbling island via Ada Wong’s gifted jet ski that Ashely was so attached to the pair of you. She’d offered positions on her own personal detail to you, claiming she could put a word in with her father. Denials were made, kind smiles and the shaking of heads. Too kind of an offer and you liked your jobs, is what you’d told her. That wasn’t at all what you were thinking though.

Post a Hunnigan meltdown over your earpieces, the three of you were told to stay the night in a shabby, rundown little local hotel in a larger town a couple dozen miles south of the village. Still in Spain, still tired, still craving a warm shower. One room, two beds. Great, one of you was stuck sleeping with someone. Ashely offered for one of you to have a bed to yourself, she’d sleep with the other. Not a great idea. You and Leon — having spent many awkward and difficult missions together, so this was not strange to either one of you — decided on giving Ashley a bed to herself and taking the other together

If you’d been alone, oh how your lovestruck little heart would have burst. Sharing a bed with Leon Kennedy, the object of your affection. The sole performer in your wildest — and wettest — dreams. But you weren’t alone. Ashley was in the room, a matter of feet away, in her own double sized bed.

If she hadn’t been — to be vulgar and completely honest — nothing would have stopped you from fucking him then and there. The tension between the pair of you had been growing thicker since your arrival in Spain. It was thick, painfully so, and also horrifically obvious not only to you, but yet again, to Ashley. For the longer stretch of the mission, she’d expected a grand confession at any moment. A breakdown caused by a dangerous situation that ensued a moment of emotional and even physical vulnerability. But, to her dismay and yours, that never happened. Because, above all things, Leon was professional for a lack of a better word. He wasn’t going to allow his emotions to jeopardize the mission.

And so no breakdown of emotional distress and vulnerability played out. No confession of hearts bleeding for the other were cried out. Part of you was glad it hadn’t happened that way. But the larger part of your soul which was dedicated to Leon had wished it had. You longed for the day he realized he needed you too. But, to maintain professionalism and dignity, neither of you made such admissions.

Warm showers were taken in rotation in the tiny excuse for a bathroom. The shower was small and permanently stained with grime, but really was clean as the owner swore. The shower head was one of the older ones from the seventies that made the water come out in a dribble, then a forceful rainfall that hurt your back. The toiletries provided by the hotel were small and cheap, but you were clean. That’s all that mattered.

Sans dried blood and grime, you sat on Ashley’s bed, cross legged as you patched up each one of her injuries. Ashley had been the first to shower, after a fifteen minute debate with the two of you over who should go first. She had a few bandages and exposed scrapes that needed to be re-cleaned. So, with gentle hands you did so as Leon took use of his turn to shower.

“Looks good, no signs of infection so far. But, like I said before, I can’t tell too much without the right equipment.” You reassured Ashely as you finished patching up a cut on her arm and began to put your first aid kit back together.

“Thanks,” Ashley nodded, inspecting her scrape riddled skin. Small bruises and surface cuts were beginning to make their appearance, telltale signs of the brutality the three of you had endured in that village.

“Let me know if you feel feverish or see any swelling. That could mean infection.” You offered, being kind but stern.

“‘Kay,” the girl nodded, smiling up at you as you let out a sigh, leaning back on your hands on the bed.

You looked at her, smiling softly as your head tilted to the side a little. “Need me to kiss it better?”

At this, Ashley’s eyes went wide, her cheeks dusted with pink. You felt a little bad then, you just tried to ease the tension. “S’okay, Ashley. I was just playing.” You laughed, your tone lighthearted as you placed a gentle hand on her knee with an equally gentle smile.

It seemed the touch was worst than the comment. Ashley’s entire face went aflame, her eyes wide, and large as she stared at you. An uneasy ache settled in your chest, uncertainty lingering in the air as your smile faded. The initial shock between the pair of you didn’t last long as the door to the bathroom swung open.

“Jesus, you could’ve left me some hot water.” Leon grumbled as he stepped out into the room, lips downturned and brows etched in an annoyed frown.

The three of you were now paused as Leon’s eyes fell on you and Ashely — or more-so on the hand that rested on Ashley’s knee. Reality seemed to snap into place all at once for you, yanking your hand back and standing up.

“Let me check you out.” You mumbled, clearing your throat as you picked up the first aid kit and took residence on your own bed.

“No, I’m fine. Check on Ashley,” Leon shook his head, damp blond strands sticking to his forehead.

“Already did. Just finished. Your turn, whether you like it or not.” You stated, your tone final as you looked up at Leon, brows raised.

The agent let out a huff of agitation, grumbling something indiscernible as he sat down on the bed beside you. You began to gently inspect Leon's wounds- some small, others more intense. Despite his prior hesitation to be taken care of, he was stoic about it all. He sat still, unmoving, silent as you worked to disinfect and cover each wound with fresh bandages. The silence in the room was loud, startlingly uncomfortable as you patched Leon up.

A quick glance over at Ashley as you finished bandaging a deep cut that you'd quickly stitched up on the field showed her wide eyes. Wide baby blue focused on the way your fingers gently worked, how graceful and careful they were again the alabaster tone of Leon's skin.

"Doing okay over there, blondie?” Leon inquired, a small smirk playing on his face as he spotted Ashley's startling gaze on the wounds decorating his skin. He had mistook her fascination of your hands as nervousness of his wounds. But you knew. You could tell what her gaze meant.

"Oh, yeah. M'fine." Ashley recovered very quickly, to your surprise. Well, maybe it wasn't just your hands that had her enraptured, Leon was sitting on the bed, shirtless.

"Alright, hero-boy, all better." You smiled at Leon as you patted his bicep - earning a small, almost inaudible grumble from him - and moving to close your medical kit. You stood, tucking away in your pack and let out a sigh. "’Kay, l for one, am fucking exhausted."

“Yeah, me too,” Ashely murmured, an aura of discomfort still radiating from her. She offered a kind, if not awkward smile to the pair of you before settling into the bed, pulling the overs over her shoulders. “G’night.”

“‘Night,” you smiled, shuffling over to the bed you and Leon were sharing. You sat down on the edge, eyes trained on the back of Ashley’s head — the blonde hair, how it shimmered against the dim light of the single lamp in the room. You felt almost as if you weren’t really there.

“Need me to check you?” Leon asked, snapping you back to reality. You jolted a bit, looking at him from over your shoulder.

“Oh, nah, I’m okay.” You shook your head, clearing your throat as you settled into the bed, flicking off the lamp.

“Okay,” Leon shrugged, getting into the bed too, still in just a pair of pants. Everyone was in the barest of clothing. You in a tank top and underwear — Ashely in the same. It was all you had. All your clothes were soiled with dirt, and grime, and blood.

Thinking of nothing in particular, you laid there, staring up at the ceiling of the dark room. The walls creaked every once in a while, odd drafts filtered in from cracks in the ceiling or from the window. It was too quiet. And it stayed that way for a long while.

“Everything okay with Ashley?” Leon asked, his voice quiet, as not to wake the subject of conversation.

“Yeah, everything’s fine.” You mumbled back, turning your head. He, too, was on his back. Both of you too afraid to face each other in bed, seeming too personal. “Why?”

“Just making sure.” His response was quiet, a little too nonchalant, as if he’d forced it to be casual. “It was awkward earlier.”

“Earlier?” You decided to play dumb, despite knowing that Leon wouldn’t believe it. He was well aware you knew what he was talking about. The touch. How Ashley had frozen when you’d touched her leg.

“Whatever, play stupid.” He scoffed with a half smile — a knowing smile. The bastard. “Just saying, she seems attached to you.”

“Oh, and she’s not with you, her hero?” You bit back with a hint of humor. Your voices were still low, hoping Ashely was asleep — or she couldn’t hear you if she wasn’t.

Leon laughed quietly, a rough scoff sound that echoed in your ears. You smiled at little at that sound. “Whatever you say,”

You frowned, gaining the confidence to shuffle onto your side, facing him as you contemplated what that simple, yet heavy ‘whatever’ meant. “What do you mean, whatever?”

Leon sighed, rolling onto his side to face you too. His eyes, still so blue even in the darkness of the motel room, bore into yours. It seemed he didn’t carry the same awkward feeling about this topic as you did. Or, maybe he did and he just hid it exceptionally well. But knowing him, that didn’t seem right.

“She’s just attached to you. Always at your side, or chatting your ear off. And what the hell was with that earlier?” He continued, brows furrowed in their eternal frown.

“I was patching her up. Making sure none of her cuts were infected.” You half shrugged, trying to play it off as something simple, even though it was so complex.

“She looked like she wanted to kiss you or something.”

“Oh, my God,” you rolled your eyes, trying to push away the way your chest tightened at the though. “You’re so fucking dramatic. She wasn’t gonna kiss me.”

“Okay,” Leon shrugged, his tone final and casually dismissive. Like he was finished talking about it. Like he didn’t believe you but didn’t want to say so.

“She was not going to kiss me.” You pushed, voice quiet yet firm. Your own brows were pulled into a frown, like what he’d said was offensive.

But it wasn’t. Kissing Ashley wasn’t a bad thought. It wasn’t as if you’d never kissed another girl before. The first time you had was in the training program for USSTRATCOM, your training partner who made you realize that all girls don’t look at other girls that way. She was the first, others followed.

Ashley was pretty, very pretty. Tall, pretty lips, and the blonde hair, blue eye thing, of course. Kissing her wouldn’t be so bad, really. It would probably be very nice. But nothing like kissing Leon, though.

“Okay.” Leon said again, shifting to lay on his back again, letting his eyes close. The finality of it all aggravated you. So, you asked him a question maybe you shouldn’t have.

“What if she did?” You asked, eyes narrowed and trained on him. A smile bloomed on your face at the way his eyes opened, his brows furrowing deeper at your question.

“What about it? It’s not my business.” Leon grumbled. But the tone he used made it wound like it was very much his business.

“M’kay.” You nodded, quietly celebrating to the way you’d seemed to have stumped him, surprised him.

For a moment, he didn’t respond. He stared at the ceiling, and you stared at him. It was deadly quiet, the rhythmic sound of Ashley’s breathing the sole sound in the room.

“Did you want her to?” Leon asked, mumbling quietly. His eyes stayed on the ceiling, as if he were afraid to look you in the eye when you answered. Afraid you had an answer he wouldn’t like.

“I dunno.” You admitted, honestly. You didn’t know, truly you didn’t. Kissing Ashely wouldn’t be so bad, but you hardly knew the girl. Not to mention her heavy attachment to you. It could get worse if she kissed you.

Leon nodded, not sure of how to answer your admission. He laid there, your eyes on him as you laid on your side. You wished so desperately for him to kiss you, or hold you, or do something. It was painful, the thought that he didn’t feel the same.

“Would that bother you?” You dared to ask, voice so low it was almost inaudible as you spoke.

Leon was still quiet for a long moment, maybe considering whether to answer seriously or with his usual dry humor. The latter won. “Not something I’d wanna walk in on.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “Why? Because we’re girls?”

“Because she’d be kissing you.” He responding, saying it lightly, like the meaning of that simple sentence wasn’t the heaviest thing you’d ever heard.

Your mind did circles, your heart raced. Did he mean that because you were his partner? Or did he mean it out of jealousy. God, you hoped it was jealousy.

“What do you mean by that?” You questioned, voice apprehensive and unsure.

Leon shrugged, a soft, unintelligible grunt falling from his lips. He didn’t look over at you, his eyes still trained on the ceiling. The nagging feeling that was ever present in your chest worsened. The silence was deafening, painful. Then, finally, he spoke.

“It’d just be weird. It’s Ashely, it’d be weird.” He mumbled, like even he didn’t believe his own answer.

Leon’s words befuddled you, made you frown in contemplation. “Because it’s Ashley? What you mean by that?”

“I mean it’s Ashley. It’d be weird.” He repeated, not clarifying at all. This annoyed you.

Eyes narrowed, lips in a line, you scoffed. “Thanks for the explanation.”

“Anytime,” Leon clipped back playfully. But you were in no playful mood.

You huffed, Leon picking up on your attitude as you sat up in bed. “Seriously, what’d you mean by that?”

Leon let out a scoff of his own, rolling his eyes as he looked over at you. “I mean it’s just a weird thought. You and Ashley. We, we just met her, okay?”

“Oh,” you nodded, wishing you hadn’t jumped to your own conclusions internally. You’d thought he meant it was weird because she wasn’t him. Or maybe that he wanted to kiss you. Not such a simple and obvious answer.

“Yeah,” he nodded, letting out a small sigh to stifle a yawn. “Look, can we get some sleep now? Kinda have a long trip home tomorrow.”

“Yeah. Yeah, sorry.” You mumbled, lying back down on your back, eyes on the cracked ceiling once again.

It was quiet again, the discomfort of silence present once more as Ashley slept in the bed next to yours, and Leon tired to sleep beside you. Your mind buzzed with a thousand variations of the same question: why did Leon actually care so damn much?

“Go to sleep. You think too loud.” Leon grumbled, shifting to lay on his side, back facing you.

“At least some of us think,” you quipped quietly, earning a scoff of a laugh from him before he went silent for the final time that night.

Of course Leon woke up at dawn. The asscrack of fucking dawn. And it wasn’t like he was quiet either. Shuffling of his feet as he stumbled to the bathroom, the sink creaking on. You tried so hard to stay asleep, but your stupid internal alarm clock was ringing too. Oh to be in D.C. where it was still dark.

“C’mon, get up. We need to get moving.” Leon said, his voice somewhat gentle as he rested a hand on your shoulder once he’d emerged from the bathroom, fully changed.

“I’m up. You’re loud.” You mumbled, voice muffled as you pressed your face into the pillow.

“Jesus,” Leon whispered under his breath. “Even Ashely’s up.”

“Good for her,” you nestled deeper into the pillow, hearing a second set of footsteps head toward the bathroom. Less than five short seconds later, Leon yanked the covers from your body, sending a muffled yelp from your lips.

“Up, we need to move.” Leon said again, giving your leg a small shake as you grumbled on about a lack of sleep. His gentleness was gone now, replaced by urgency.

Technically, you were still on ‘enemy grounds’. You weren’t safe until you were back on U.S. soil, and even then there carried a risk with Ashley in tow.

So, with more sour encouragement from Leon, you got up and changed into your now dry clothes. Once Ashely used up her turn in the bathroom, you took yours. And not long after, the three of you were heading back toward the lobby of the shabby motel.

You managed to convince Leon to stick around for an extra thirty minutes for a shitty cooked breakfast in the sad excuse for a dining room where the motel offered complimentary breakfast.

Once full of frozen scrambled eggs, stale toast, and really bad coffee, the three of you were on the move once more. It was tricky, getting home like this. Hunnigan had promised that of you made it to a certain location a few miles north of the motel, there would be a chopper waiting to pick you up. Hunnigan hadn’t failed you yet, so you didn’t doubt her.

“How much further?” Ashley asked, her brows creased, forehead already glistening with sweat as the three of you walked through the winding streets of a small village as you had been for the past few hours.

“Not too much. Tired?” You asked, slowing your steps to walk alongside the girl.

She nodded, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand. Sympathy panged in your chest — Ashley wasn’t built for this like you and Leon were. The two of you had trained for exhausting situations such as these, she had not. You frowned.

“Need some water?” You asked gently, holding out a canteen from your belt. Ashley nodded vigorously, taking the canteen and drinking deeply.

You motioned to Leon to stop for a moment, he frowned, but did nonetheless. You stood with Ashley as she drank, taking a break before going back to drinking the water.

“Thanks,” she smiled, handing the canteen back to you — now half empty. “Sorry, I drank a lot.”

“That’s okay. Can’t have you passing out on us now, can we?” You smiled, taking a sip yourself before latching it back on your belt.

Leon, noticing that Ashely was finished with her break, began walking again. You and Ashely followed, keeping a small bit of distance between you and Leon.

“Hey, I um, I overheard you and Leon talking last night. Not everything, but some of it.” Ashley confessed, her voice a bit hesitant.

“Oh, that so? What’d you hear exactly?” You asked casually, worry springing in your chest.

“Just, I’m sorry because I know you guys have a like, groove or whatever. And I mess it up and I make it weird.”

You frowned for a moment, thinking about her words. Then it hit you — she didn’t hear about the kissing discussion, just the last bit about her being new to the trio.

“Oh, Ashely. You don’t make anything weird. Leon and I… we weren’t talking about you making things weird.” You promised, lips curved downward as you and Ashley walked behind Leon.

“Then why’d Leon say that?” Ashely asked, the insecurity obvious in her voice.

You hesitated, unsure whether or not to say it to her face. That he’d thought you two were going to kiss. After a moment of consideration — and seeing Ashely’s sad, curious eyes — you decided to just say it. Consequences be damned.

“Because he thought you were going to try to kiss me. When he came out of the bathroom last night.” You explained gently, shrugging as if it weren’t a big deal. When it kind of was.

The girl was quiet for a long moment, her brows creased, lips turned downward. She swallowed, looking back at you from where she’d been staring at her feet. “And he meant it’d be weird if I did kiss you?”

“Yeah, that’s what he meant. Not because we’re girls,” you were quick to interject your previous statement. “But because it’s just… that you and I don’t really know each other that well.”

Ashley nodded, walking beside you as you followed Leon along the uneven stone paths. Every once in a while, he’d glance backward to make sure you weren’t lingering behind or somehow gotten lost.

“Okay,” one simple word carried such finality. It shook you — Ashley was uncomfortable.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel weird. I just wanted to be honest.” You tried to explain gently but firmly. You didn’t want her to think you were strange.

“You didn’t make me feel weird.” Ashely shook her head, eyes squinting in the mid-afternoon sun as she looked over at you.

You smiled a little, relieved you hadn’t put her off or made her uncomfortable. That really was the last thing you wanted. “Good,”

The three of you continued to walk along, and a little further up, you demanded a break. Leon huffed, claiming you didn’t have time for a break. But the sun was warm and you were quickly running out of water.

So, you stopped for a quick fifteen minutes before setting off again. Leon was walking much quicker than before — dead set on getting to the extraction point before sundown. Which was very much possible as you were a mere four miles away.

There was a chopper waiting, just as Hunnigan had promised. God, you’d mentally decided to name your first born after her, so thankful to finally leave Spain and sit your ass down.

You sat beside Leon in the back compartment of the chopper, all three of you sporting massive headsets to protect your ears. You chatted away with the pilot — a friend of Hunnigan’s named Danny who was funny, and reminded you of the late Mike who died in pursuit of getting you and Leon out of trouble in the village.

With the promise of a good meal and actual hot showers, Danny flew the three of you home. You were busy looking outside the chopper when Leon nudged your knee with his, earning a slightly venomous glare from you before he pointed to Ashley. Who was dead asleep across from you.

The ride back to D.C. was long, around six hours. Most of which were spent talking with Danny or falling asleep, slumped against Leon’s shoulder. Around twenty minutes before you were set to land — you and Leon had been previously discussing what you were doing first, eating, sleeping, or showering — you shook Ashley awake.

The poor thing was groggy and half asleep as you all filed off the chopper and bid goodbye to Danny — whom you’d made a promise to meet up with and have drinks in honor of Mike at his favorite bar he’d mentioned before he tragically died.

A government issued SUV waited for you, instructing the three of you to pile into the back so you could be taken straight to the President, then to testing. Which you put up a damn good fight. Who the fuck cared about testing? You were hungry and tired and dehydrated as hell. Leon shut you up quick though, despite not being happy about the arrangement himself.

Unfortunately, the car ride was around a half an hour. The driver — not as intimidating had he’d first appeared — flicked between radio stations ntil he landed on one he knew was Ahsley’s favorite. (Apparently he’d been the one to drive Ashely to college, so he knew what music she liked).

Much to Ashely’s dismay and deathly embarrassment, the fucking Backstreet Boys were playing. The driver turned it up, also having the knowledge that this particular track was one of Ashley’s favorites.

Unfortunately, you knew the lyrics too. You mumbled along with them, Leon biting back a smile at how ridiculous his own field partner could be.

“You like the Backstreet Boys?” Ashely asked, her cheeks a bit warm as you bopped your head to the beat and hummed along.

“Nah, but don’t be embarrassed.” You shook your head, smiling at the girl who was sitting between you and Leon.

“Music is music, blondie.” Leon agreed, nodding his head with your positive attitude. He looked back over Ashely’s head at you, trying hard not to smile at your antics. God, you could be so stupidly immature sometimes.

“Oh,” Ashley mumbled, slinking down further in her seat as the driver made the final turn and parked the SUV.

Leon exited first, then Ashley, and you to follow up the rear. You and Leon were armed, still charged with protecting Ashely, no matter the fact that you were indeed on U.S. soil again, and at the White House. The President didn’t greet you outside to your surprise, but you were ushered immediately to his office.

There he was reunited with his daughter, the emotional moment making you have to quietly clear your throat because it even choked you up to see Ashley so happy to see her father again.

You and Leon were thanked profusely, promised your compensation and the highest of honors and awards. To which you didn’t really want (except the money, fuck, you wanted the money), but you knew better than to even try to deny.

With that, you and Leon were quickly dismissed, told you were being led to government testing to be sure you really were clear of the parasites. You gave Ashley a quick goodbye smile and hug, Leon giving her a pat on the shoulder, telling her to behave herself.

She looked so unsure, so strange standing in the Oval Office, clothes grimy and blood stained, hair mussed as she watched you and Leon being escorted from the room.

The First Daughter felt a strange sort of emptiness in her chest then, watching you leave. Her brows furrowed as her father spoke incessantly to her about how worried he’d been and how much he missed her. You were agents, assigned to bring her home and leave. No more, no less. So why was she so devastated to see you go?

Of course, you felt a little sad to leave the girl behind. Despite spending only around forty-eight hours with Ashley, you found yourself realizing you’d miss her. Her smile and her comments and her laugh. The way she always asked if you were alright when you should have been doing so to her. How she tried her hardest to defend you and Leon, despite her chronic helplessness.

These things were not spoken to Leon though as you two walked out of the White House together, followed by guards back to the SUV you’d arrived in. But, even though you didn’t say it, you knew Leon felt it too. Somehow, in forty-eight short hours, Ashley had left a mark on you. The both of you. And you missed her already.

“Wait!” You stopped in your tracks, you and Leon almost simultaneously looking over your shoulder to see Ashley running out of the White House after you. She was panting, trying to catch up.

She ran to Leon first, wrapping her arms around his neck, taking the agent by such surprise it made him stumble backwards a bit. Leon wasn’t much of a hugger, you knew this personally. But, despite the action being hesitant and awkward, he hugged her back.

After a few moments — which you knew in your bones were long for Leon — he gave her a quick pat on the back. Ashely took the motion in stride and unlinked herself, smiling at him.

Then, she turned to you. Of course, you expected a hug as well, and you got one. She wrapped her arms around your neck too, you wrapped your arms around her middle, hugging her back with no hesitation. But what you hadn’t expected, was for her to lean back and press a kiss to your lips.

You paused, frozen, eyes wide as Ashley kissed you. What the fuck? She wasn’t a bad kisser, actually. You felt a little bad, not kissing her back as Ashley pulled away, letting go of you and taking a step back. You sort of wished you had kissed her back. But, as the girl stood there, she held no contempt for the fact that you hadn’t. She knew she’d taken you by complete surprise.

“Thank you, both of you. I know I already said it, but thank you for saving my life. It, it means a lot.” Ashely said, her lips — which had been as soft as you thought they were — curved in a sweet smile. Baby blue eyes darted between you and Leon.

Leon who was as shocked as you that Ashley had kissed you with such little hesitation. He was still recovering as well.

Ashely said no more, just offering one last wide smile before turning around and walking away. Her guard — which had followed her outside, running behind her — escorted her. She didn’t even look back, didn’t get a second look at the still shocked look on your face.

“Holy fuck,” you said finally, looking away from Ashley’s retreating figure to look at Leon. He was shocked as well, brows raised as he blinked for a moment.

“Yep, that was weird.” Leon mumbled, nodding as if in affirmation. He said no more, turning around and walking to the SUV, leaving you in momentary silence.

You blinked yourself back to the present, realizing Leon’s comment. You frowned, turning and quickly walking to the SUV as well. “So I didn’t just have a dehydration induced hallucination? She actually kissed me?”

“She actually kissed you,” Leon nodded as he buckled in the SUV, you climbing in and sitting beside him. The car started and rolled out of the parking lot.

“Oh my God.” You said, brows raised, shaking your head. You were unsure of what else there really was to say. You were at a total loss for words.

“Fucking weird.” Leon shook his head, whispering again.

This caused you to look over at him, brows raised. “Why? Because we’re girls?” You brought up your challenge from the previous night, knowing full well you’d get the same damn response.

“No, because it's you.”

You frowned deeper, lips downturned. Oh, you liked a good fucking challenge. “You think I’m like, un-kissable, or something, Kennedy?”

Leon rolled his eyes, exhaustion obviously catching up to him. He looked tired — physically and mentally. “I didn’t say that. It’s just weird.”

“See, that’s not an explanation. Just like it wasn’t last night.” You chided, eyes narrowed.

“Christ,” Leon mumbled under his breath as shook his head, clearly regretting ever speaking in the last five minutes. “It’s just weird to see my partner being kissed like that.”

You took this as your chance, a grin forming on your lips. “By another girl? Or just in general?”

“General.” Leon responded, obviously not caring of how bored it sounded.

“Jealous or something?” You challenged further, lips pulled in a shit-eating grin.

Oh you’d gotten him there. You could tell by the way Leon’s shoulders tensed and his too casual expression that he was, indeed, sickeningly jealous. An idea — stupid, one that may ruin your dynamic — popped into your head.

You turned your body to face Leon in the backseat, grinning as he frowned at your sudden closeness. With no hesitation or moment for him to react, you leaned forward and kissed him. Square on the mouth. It must be a thing for blondes to have really soft lips.

Leon didn’t say a word, didn’t pull back, didn’t move. He just let you kiss him. Which was strange in and of itself. You placed a hand on his cheek, him a hand on the back of your neck. Eureka, he’d wanted to kiss you all along. Fuck yes, that’s all you could think.

Leon was a decent kisser too, a really good kisser actually. You scooched a little closer, allowing him to hold you by the back of your neck, your body relaxed against his as if it were natural to do so.

Was this what Ashely was feeling when she’d kissed you? Absolute elation and joy? You didn’t let yourself wonder too much, getting swept up in the fact that you were kissing Leon. His hand was gentle yet firm on the back of your neck, your hand on his cheek drifting down to rest against his chest. This moment, God you wished it could last forever.

Which unfortunately, it didn’t. You heard someone clear their throat, the driver looking at you through the rear view mirror. You pulled back, cheeks a little warm. You must look like some sort of girl. Someone who got around maybe. First the First Daughter had kissed you, now you were verging on making out with your field partner in the backseat of a government vehicle.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, pulling away from Leon and sitting back on the seat.

Leon scoffed to himself, letting his hand fall from where it’d been resting on the back of your neck. “You’re stupid,”

“Excuse me?” You let out a small laugh. You’d kissed him and he was calling you stupid? What the hell?

“I can’t believe it took you that long to realize.” Leon shook his head, making you roll your eyes. He’d been jealous the whole time. So the comment of how weird it’d been that Ashley would kiss you — and actually had — was exactly what you thought. Huh, you were some amateur detective.

“Shut up,” you smiled, mumbling as you crossed your arms over your chest, sinking into the seat.

“Nope.” Leon shook his head, making you smile wider.

Maybe these tests wouldn’t be so bad, now that you had two kisses to think on. One you could only ever remember, and one you could receive a million more of once all this was over.

how you can help Palestine! 🇵🇸

[maximotts]

i feel like cowboy wanda would be so gentle the first few times she has sex with you bc she’s worried she’ll hurt you and scare you off but eventually she loses control a bit and manhandles you into position and when she pins you down, you moan and then the most DEVILISH smile spreads across her face

Ooo okay okay it's interesting you brought this up because I've been thinking about their first encounter a bit lately! We'll ignore that this turned into a whole fic, okay? I love them sm Also this isn't really edited because it was supposed to be a short answer and now it's uhm.. not short, so forgive any typos

18+ only please . wc: 2.7k . cw: first meeting hookup, drinking, dirty talk, oral, fingering, v light spanking, lap sits, possessiveness, Wanda being smitten, the pickup truck sex a lot of y'all have been asking me about that I said was coming, morning after with Wanda because she's as proper as she is filthy

Basically right now I have their first time more as a hookup where bunny is new to town and goes out to a bar one night to maybe make friends and see the environment, but then she meets Wanda and her group of friends who are all more than welcoming and you're having a great time hanging out with them.

But your eyes keep drifting to Wanda. Of course Wanda notices and, being the smooth talker she is, starts flirting with the new girl. She buys you as many drinks as you want which, end up being stronger than you're used to, but your nerves keep you ordering more. When she finally slips an arm around you, cornering you in the booth you'd only just plopped yourself into, you're more than ready for Wanda to kiss you— and kiss you she does.

You're shy by nature, never having made out with anyone in a bar, much less with a girl you'd only known for a few hours, but Wanda's thumb brushing over your cheek while she bites down on your bottom lip has you forgetting everything you're used to which admittedly, isn't much. Somehow she's pulled your thighs over her own, toying with the stretchy hem of the form-fitting skirt you'd decided to wear last minute. When she touches a particularly sensitive spot, you shiver and Wanda chuckles, "You cold, darlin'? Pretty as your arms are, I'll let you borrow my jacket if it'd help."

And so the night goes on with Wanda's thick denim jacket slung over your shoulders, her arm around your waist wherever the two of you walk. Normally you'd hate the presumptive way the cowgirl was handling you, as if she owned you already, but you'd be damned if you didn't admit you wanted her to stake her claim. So, in your slightly inebriated state, you took a leap, "Wands, I'm sleepy..."

Which catches her attention immediately. "Well now," Wanda pulls you close then, fingers carefully treading the line between caressing your hip and groping your ass; it would be the first time she whispers in your ear, but it'll never stop being insanely hot. "I hope you're telling me because you're going to let me take you home. I'd be real sad leaving tonight without you."

You wish your giggle of a reply didn't sound so girlish and naïve, but in hindsight, you had no idea the sheer intensity you were in for. "Only if you promise to behave yourself."

—

She's driven about halfway back to her house before she has to pull over; technically it was her land, pulled over to the side of the winding road and turning her truck engine off. "I know I promised to take you home, I still will, but I can't take another second not having my hands on you."

It takes you back a little; all you'd been doing was scratching over her jeans while you stared at the woman driving, but you weren't going to argue with her. "I don't really-"

"I've wanted you on my lap since I laid eyes on you. Get over here." Thankfully she doesn't have to convince you any farther, holding back a groan as you straddled her legs, skirt riding up inch by inch. It was a tight squeeze with you between her and the steering wheel, but Wanda hardly noticed once you started kissing her. This time was impossibly hotter, Wanda's tongue taking control of the kiss before moving on to shamelessly leave marks along your jaw and neck.

And Wanda is too good at getting your clothes out of the way, leaving you topless with record speed, squeezing at your breasts roughly while you struggled just to keep up with her mouth. "What if someone sees..."

The brunette only starts toying with your nipples, relishing in the way it got you rolling your hips. "It's pitch dark, silly girl. I can barely see you out here, don't worry your pretty little head."

You lost the last bit of your restraint the moment Wanda passed her fingertips over your underwear. They were thin lace, chosen by design so as not to show under your skirt, but they drove Wanda wild. She pushed them aside to slide her fingers along where you were already warm and sensitive, hips stuttering as she stroked over your clit. "O-Oh.."

"Look at you, already wet and needy. Were you like this all night? That why I caught you squeezing your thighs together so often?" You shook your head, trying to deny it, but you weren't even fooling yourself.

Wanda's had you rocking in place for hours by this point; you thought sure you'd been subtle and being called out for your behavior found your head ducking into the crook of Wanda's shoulder to avoid her knowing gaze. "Aww, it's okay! It'll be our little secret, promise..."

Wanda discovered night one what a responsive person you were, delighting in the vice grip you held on the back of her seat while she rolled your nipple in time with her other hand on your sensitive bud. You rocked against her hands as best you could, fighting to keep pace, but hopefully not finish so easily— it'd just been so long and you needed this much more than expected.

The next morning, you'd blame the alcohol. "Wanda please, I- I need.."

"What do you need, sweetheart, wanna cum? Make a mess in my truck after I barely got started with you?" You were nodding so hard your neck hurt, moaning quietly as you felt your body reach its peak; the first of many that night. Ears ringing and thoughts so pleasantly fuzzy, you couldn't recall a time you'd felt more free, in an old pickup truck or otherwise.

"Ooh, aren't you just a masterpiece..." The brunette took her time letting you down, pointer and middle fingers wandering until they just barely pushed into you: less than an inch, but unendingly torturous. "Sounds like I was able to make you feel better, least a little bit."

Tired hips tried every which way to sink onto Wanda's long fingers, the same ones you'd felt on you over your clothes back in the bar and had lists of naughty places you wanted her to put them. But each time, your lover avoids delving anywhere past shallow. "You're being mean, just fuck me."

"Mean? After I let you cum as early as you wanted? You don't know what mean looks like on me. Don't think you want to," A succession of wet slaps echoed in the truck's cabin, the silence of everything around you both amplifying the sound of Wanda lightly hitting your sensitive cunt and your resulting whimpers.

"Told you so. Now, bend over and stay still while I get a proper look like the obedient girl I know you are," Manhandling you over the length of her seats shouldn't have been as easy as it was after the long night out, but Wanda was strong and you never fought her while she pushed your arms to the passenger car door and spread your bent knees apart.

If you were begging her to fuck you out loud, you wouldn't be surprised, wishing so hard that if Wanda still refused to give you exactly what you wanted, she'd at least use her fingers, tongue, anything to fill where you currently felt so empty. "Please- I need more-"

Your thighs shake as she licks over your puffy folds, mumbling the most depraved things about you, your taste, your warmth, leaving you with the most intoxicating combination of feeling both used and adored. "You just keep dripping into my mouth, baby, it's impossible to keep you clean..."

"Can't help it, sorry," But your words aren't matching your actions, not when you kept searching out Wanda's tongue each time she flicked at your clit, pitifully rolling over the rough surface whenever she flattened it out.

You'd long since fogged up the windows, smudging the fog as your overheated cheek met the cold glass; each time you managed to open your eyes you remember exactly where you are, woods rustling in the middle of the night. "W-Wanda! 'm close again, please please...!"

"Mean girls wouldn't let you have two orgasms back to back, no matter how pretty." Wanda likes to believe she actually thought about whether or not to give you what you wanted, but in reality she knew she would leave you wanting the second you turned bratty. Sure it was a risk, not knowing how you'd react, but it was well worth the test to see if you had a chance of handling her past a quick night's distraction. "Straighten up, we're only a few minutes from home."

"That's not fair—"

But Wanda was already pushing you upright again, haphazardly fixing your dress, going so far as to buckle your seatbelt as if it'd keep you from your uncomfortable wiggling. "My car my rules! Like I said, we're not far."

Wanda expected you to pout and huff the whole way, worried in the back of her mind you wouldn't let her lay another hand on you after her denial, but she was pleasantly surprised. Somewhere shortly after she pulled back onto the road, you'd taken her hand; first just to play with her fingers, innocent fidgeting at best, but before she knew it, her digits were engulfed in sinfully wet warmth.

Her fingers in your mouth made the pair of you dizzy, hands holding her wrist as you pumped her digits in and out, tongue swirling over the tips and grinning once Wanda's neutral expression cracked, lips parting in a low groan. "Do mean girls let the good ones suck the strap they've been feeling near them all night or do they only get to play with their hands?"

"Depends on if they show them how bad they want it." Wanda could only look your way for seconds at a time, the visual of your half-lidded gaze trained on her jeans while you so obviously used your imagination to envision some other scenario, muffling your own needy sounds as you forced her fingers to the back of your throat... she'd underestimated the new girl.

Whether it was any lingering alcohol talking or whatever boldness Wanda unlocked that night, something urged you to continue goading her, making a show of spreading your legs and slipping her wet fingers to your sex before closing them once more, slowly grinding her shaking digits to sate yourself for that last tiny stretch of road to the farmhouse. "Bad enough to turn your hand into a toy for as long as you let me."

Wanda made that final turn up her driveway, parking her truck fast as she could with only one hand, "You're lucky I didn't crash just now, you little devil, can't wait to get you inside."

"Lead the way, since we're playing by your rules and all." As soon as she got her hand back, Wanda practically dragged you from her vehicle and for as many hours as you spent awake in her home, you couldn't remember a single detail of any room she brought you through that night.

—

When you wake up, it's to a dimly lit bedroom, curtains drawn so only a sliver of late morning sun peeked through. Your body ached, but it wasn't from the drinking, taut muscles and lethargic thoughts bringing back bits and pieces of everything you got up to the second Wanda got you past the front door.

The same Wanda whose bed you assumed you were currently sprawled out in. Doubt crept in as you realized you're alone, fretting over if you should've fallen asleep there or not. You were deciding whether it'd be more awkward to sneak out and go back to town on foot or to search out Wanda and ask if she'd mind driving you back to your place when you heard a single knock on the door. "Can I come in?"

Your brow furrowed, "It's your room, of course you can come in." Wanda cracked the door slowly, the back of her loose flannel shirt greeting you first before she turned around, a small tray in her hands. "Sorry for crashing."

"Never said you were unwelcome, I'm sorry for letting you wake up in a strange place by yourself... and for not leaving you at least a shirt, my bad." Your arms hastily bundled the blankets to cover your chest, your nakedness pointed out to you, but Wanda laughed, setting the tray down before heading for her dresser. "Don't worry, darlin, I love the view just as much in the daylight."

"What a reassuring hostess I have," Pulling the t-shirt she tossed you over your head, the delightful scents coming from the tray down the bed now catching your attention. On it was a short stack of pancakes, bacon, orange juice, strawberries... the biggest breakfast you'd seen since you'd come to town. "Did you make that?"

Wanda nodded and slid the food closer to you before sitting on the edge of her mattress, "I don't typically make this much food, but I had to get up early to make some rounds in the barn and I figured I owed you a hearty breakfast after such a nice night."

There was something so endearing to how she explained her actions, rambling on to offset her nerves, No one had even gone to such lengths to make your morning so comfortable after a single hookup, but this set the bar high for anyone else who tried. Not that you'd ever have to worry about another first night, but neither of you knew that yet.

For now Wanda scrambled to find the right way to show genuine interest in the girl she'd brought home and fucked every which way until they passed out and you amusedly ate your special pancakes while watching Wanda try, her fumbling charming you more than she'd ever imagine.

Eventually you put her out of her misery, putting down your utensils to sit up on your knees and stretch over to plant a quick kiss on her soft lips. "I really appreciate it and I'm not even a bit mad with how I woke up, but it's very sweet of you to care, Wands."

"Oh good because I'd really like to see you again sometime, if you're up for it." It would be a rare thing to see Wanda so continuously shy, but she was uncharacteristically smitten and she wanted to get to know you before the rest of the small town came for their changes too.

You hummed as you popped a strawberry into your mouth, licking your fingers in a way that painfully reminded Wanda of the previous night, "How's today?"

"Today?" The farmgirl ran a hand through her long hair, cocking her head to the side much like a lost puppy.

"Yeah, today. If you wouldn't mind me following along." With each minute that ticked past, the less you wanted to leave, much preferring a Sunday spent with Wanda than in your flat full of moving boxes.

Her eyes lit up, smile brighter than the sun, “Can’t complain about a beautiful girl all to myself all day!" Wanda was practically buzzing with everything she wanted to show you, from the chicken coops to the haylofts, but she forced herself to keep her cool.. on the surface at least. "Finish up breakfast and I'll find you some kind of pants."

"But I'm so cozy right here without them." Maneuvering over the last bits of food on your plate meant you more fell into Wanda's lap than sat on it, but she caught you nonetheless, tugging you down for the proper kiss she'd been waiting to share with you since early morning light. "Come back to bed with me?"

After the long sleep your energy was renewed, finally able to take Wanda into all your senses again, the taste of her lips, the subtle earthy smell from the work she'd already done that day, her strong hands settling confidently on your upper thighs... getting dressed was the last thing on either of your minds. "Wouldn't be much of a hostess if I didn't let my guest do as she pleased."

In the end, the pair of you might've set the world record for longest date from Sunday morning to when Wanda finally dropped a reluctant you back into town Wednesday afternoon.

[weirdmorefics]

benedict with a younger sister who he catches at one of the parties he goes to talking to a man who has less than innocent intentions with her and she’s oblivious and just thought it would be a fun place to drink bcs that’s what she’d heard when was out at the park earlier that day

A/N- Sorry for it taking a while I really am starting to believe in the fanfiction curse. I also made up the seedy guy who had unhonorable intentions in this story just an FYI.

Readers Pronouns- She/Her

TW- Sexism

Word Count- 1,653

Summary- Benedict goes to a local gathering of artists and happens to find his darling younger sister enjoying the company of some of Benedict's unsavory friends.

Unhonorable Intentions

I am a rake. I take no shame in this fact. I am allowed to be a free spirit it is my birthright as the second-born son. No obligations no responsibility. I would loathe to be in Anthony's shoes. Though Y/n seems to have made it her mission for me to walk in his shoes tonight. What is she even doing in a place like this? Last I knew she preferred literature over the arts. Yet she hangs on a man's arm as he explains his next work. in progress that he is sure will be his Magnus opus. I glare at them hopefully sister notices my gaze burning into her side so I can continue my night as if nothing happened. However, when I glare at them I realize who the man she is talking to is and now I know there is no way I can continue my night. Unfortunately said man felt my gaze instead of Y/n and smiled and pulled her forcefully along with him.

"Bridgerton! It's grand to see you! We've missed you at the club!" Alexander shakes my hand roughly and I return it with an insincere smile. "Saw you eyeing my new muse, I regret to inform you I don't share." God, I want to gag as I know what he does with his so-called muses. Y/n smiles at being called his muse she does love it when I draw her but this man does not have honorable intentions. He and I have very different definitions of what a muse is. My idea of a muse is someone who inspires you to create, Alexander's idea of a muse is a woman to sleep with and then abandon.

I straighten back to assert my taller posture over the man, "And I regret to inform you your so-called muse is my darling baby sister." I look down at her with demanding eyes, "I do say it is time we get back to Mother. Isn't Y/n?"

She looks taken aback by my tone, "What do you mean? I just got here."

Alexanders' grin increases tenfold, "A Bridgeton! Benedict I had no idea you were hiding such a beauty to yourself! If I was her brother I'd never let her out of the house either." This man is truly revolting the artist community here is unfortunately very small and I have to find a way to remain civil.

Y/n smiles, "So you know Alexander? That's too bad really I was hoping to learn some different art techniques from him to impart to you! I had no idea you knew such a famous artist!"

I grit my teeth, "Famous now Alexander are we?"

This flusters him for a moment but he recovers quickly, "Aren't all artists famous in a different sort of way?"

I want to laugh at such an absurd response… sadly Y/n is far too naive for her own good.

"I agree wholeheartedly! Benedict is the most famous artist in our family! I'm quite jealous of his talent I must admit! It makes sense he would be at such a regal event filled with so much talent. To be truthful I overheard this soiree would have fabulous drinks on this morning's promenade and couldn't resist," she gushes over my talents and breaks my heart for not being more present in my siblings' lives.

Anthony just seemed to have it all handled, Daphne was married off, Eloise could certainly hold her own ground, Francessa was so busy with her studies, and Mother had Gregory and Hycanith under control. Even though Y/n is Eloise's twin she couldn't be any more different she believes the best in everyone and is too quick to forgive in my opinion and Alexander is taking advantage of that and I will not let that stand.

I smile down at Y/n, "Y/n you downplay your own talents no need to associate with a man whose talents consist of preying on women through false pretenses."

Her eyes widen to the size of quarters, "Benedict you can not make such outrageous claims!"

I pretend to not know exactly what she is talking about, "You mean your talents? Your poetry talent is outrageous and that's not a claim it's just a fact."

She blushes at the compliment but for some asinine reason still wants to defend Alexander. Though it seemed her brain could not keep up with the unusual compliment from me and the unflattering words I spoke about Alexander she just stuttered unintelligible anger, shock, and joy all marking her face. Alexander on the other hand was just fuming red.

"First you insult me Bridgerton then you demean poetry as a genre by encouraging a woman to write it." he snarls.

I have never seen Y/n turn so quickly and before anyone in the room knows what's happening a resounding slap is heard over all the chatter and everyone turns to the noise. Alexander's eye is twitching and a red welt in the shape of my sister's hand is forming on his face. He glares at her with murderous eyes but she holds her head high I have never seen her this determined and it makes me wonder what else I missed while she was growing up and I was galavanting around with men like Alexander.

She points an angry finger at him like Mother would when she would scold us, "Gentleman like yourself actually I wouldn't even call men like you gentleman but that's beside the point. Men like you say women are too emotional to do anything but care for the home. Poetry is all about emotion it's supposed to make you feel something like the art you make, or apparently don't make from what I just learned from Benedict's side comment. I would also like to remind you who is in charge of our country or rather what sex they are?"

All eyes are on us and Alexander looks like he might strangle Y/n with his two hands if the vein bulging out of his forehead is any indicator.

"Oh and by the way when I complimented your line work on your latest piece I was lying it was shit but you know how men can be so emotional I didn't want to hurt your feelings," she fake pouted. This is definitely not the young sister I once knew she may still be naive but she has now learned to use her talent with words as a knife.

Alexander's arm shoots to roughly grab her but I am quick to block, "I'm Alexander but we must be going. It was so nice talking to you as always. I would definitely take my dear sister's words under advisement to spend more time working on your line art." I then pull him very closely into my body and if anyone hadn't seen the previous incident they would have thought it was just two chaps hugging. I whisper, "Less time with lines of ladies and coke you might find yourself able to make straight lines. And if I ever hear you laid a hand on my sister I will kill you myself." I roughly release him and he scrambles backwards ungracefully as all eyes on him.

I link arms with Y/n, "Come on we must really be going now."

Once we make it outside away from prying eyes she quickly bursts into sobs, "Gods what have I done! I was just so angry he'd judge me just based on my sex. God, what if Lady Whistledown writes about me!" She starts pacing with her hands on her forehead and this is the Y/n I am all too familiar with, " Oh God what if Mama reads it! What if I ruin the Bridgerton name? Anthony will never forgive me!"

I clap and quickly gain her attention back, "You certainly won't be the first Bridgerton featured in Lady Whistledown and I am certain you will not be the last."

"Not helping!' She shouts back.

"No one will be mad you stood your ground… in fact, I am quite proud of you."

Her eyes study me, "Are you serious? I just slapped your friend in a soiree full of your peers."

"Anthony was more of an acquaintance," I add.

She rolls her eyes, "That is not the point!"

I sigh, "Yes, I am proud. You defended your honor and didn't need my help to do so. Though I am sure any of your brothers would be there in a heartbeat to defend it including me."

She smiles, "You're proud of me."

"I am not saying it again," I state.

she starts to repeat you're proud of me in a sing-songy voice.

"My pride in you is diminishing and my worry is growing. I think I will be around more often seems like Anthony isn't keeping a watchful enough eye on you if he let you go to a seedy event like this."

She tilts her head, "But you were at the event?"

"Exactly I only attend seedy events, though it appears now I must reform. Think of me has your second Anthony," maybe having responsibilities won't be so bad if I get to see Y/n chew out more men like Alexander.

She groans, "I don't want another Anthony how will I ever do anything fun."

"That's the point Y/n," I smile.

She groans, "I hope Lady Whistledown writes you into the story and makes you sound dreadful."

"As long as she writes how daring and smart my younger sister is we will be on good terms," I smile as she groans again at her failed attempt to get under my skin.

"Thank you, I guess," she responds.

I may be late in helping my siblings but at least they all still have some more growing to do and I plan to be there for all of it.

[jerreeeeeee]

i don't think taako's voice is really all that high most of the time. it's higher than justin's normal voice a little, but idk, the defining quality of it isn't its pitch to me, there's something else that i don't really have the words for. but anyway i do notice that his voice gets lower and less exaggerated when he's being serious. which is interesting bc it sort of implies that the usual "taako voice" is something he puts on.

i don't really think of taako as a habitual performer. his charisma modifier is a -1, he's not this ultra smooth charming actor, and although he does tend to hide behind humor and is slow to build connections, he's also very frank with what he's about and what he wants. he goes on an entire tirade about wanting to talk about his feelings (he's multidimensional!), he never acts embarrassed or hesitant about big moments of vulnerability and caring for others (arms outstretched, "i'm not going fucking anywhere," admitting a deep fear to kravitz on their first date, spilling his tragic backstory to angus, not to mention several serious moments with lup) (and not all of these can be chalked up to "forgotten connections," either. he does have a foundation of growth with magnus and merle, even forgotten, and his conversations with lup are of course all with memories intact, but he does not have that with kravitz and angus). he's just slow to reveal all of his hidden depths, because of (understandable) trust issues. but all in all he's not nearly as closed off as i think fandom tends to portray him (which is not to say he's open, either), nor is he someone who wears a lot of masks and obscures himself. i don't think he hides his "true self."

sizzle it up was successful because of his intelligence, not his charisma. he's a natural teacher who's knowledgeable and passionate, and that was what made the show great, not his personality or performance (though i don't think those were bad. just not the primary appeal of the show. the only fan we see is ren, and she loved sizzle it up because it inspired her and taught her to cook, not because she thought taako was awesome or whatever). bc that's the thing, he's not a performer, but he is extremely adaptable. so when he's set up with a stagecoach and a show lined up, sure, he'll have a TV persona, he'll learn to be charming, he'll learn to be showy, when he's on stage. when he gets famous, he learns to like being famous, but i don't think it was really a dream of his before then. or at least not in the way people think of it. i don't think he ever wanted to be a celebrity as much as a celebrity chef or celebrity wizard. he doesn't care if people think he's pretty. he doesn't want people to adore him (before the voidfish, anyway. afterwards is a different story. there's a void where love used to be that he's desperate to fill, and adoration almost feels like it works). really what he wants is for people to appreciate his skill and intelligence and depth (and he's also very afraid of actually displaying those things. he's multidimensional).

but most of the time, when he's not literally performing for an audience, i just don't think he's putting on a show, desperate for people to like him and think he's charming. he'll do what he needs to do, say what he needs to say, be who he needs to be in any given circumstance, with strangers and antagonists, but he also drops the act when it's not necessary. or at least his performance is subtler. he performs stupidity, he performs nonchalance, he makes efforts to be funny (because he is always funny, but that's something you have to work for and always be thinking about, even when the humor is dry), he carefully does just enough to be useful, but not enough to raise expectations. he's very aware of how other people view him, but he's also perfectly okay with people thinking negatively about him—as long as they're the negative traits he wants people to see. but, he only does all those things in the beginning of the show; after a little while with magnus and merle, after a little while with the bob, he drops the act. so i guess that's the difference to me. he's adaptable out of necessity, it doesn't bleed into his entire life. i don't even really think i'd qualify it as a performance. it's more of an invisibility. he's not performing charisma to get people to like him, he's trying to lay low. but then when he actually wants people to like him, he's himself, fairly unapologetically. with the people who matter, lup, magnus and merle, kravitz, the other bob members, the other ipre crew, he's pretty comfortable with himself.

one last interesting point is that while he doesn’t seem to hesitate when it comes to actions, he does shy away from verbal displays of affection, trust, vulnerability. and the best two scenes to show that play out almost exactly the same: lup’s best day ever dinner, and dropping his disguise self with kravitz. in each, taako does something meaningful for both npcs, who then verbalize their affection for him, which taako immediately deflects with a joke.

taako drops his disguise spell for kravitz, totally honest with him, (although… i don’t tend to think the beauty sacrifice was as meaningful to taako as fandom tends to portray, i think most of his vanity is an exaggeration he intentionally cultivates, but still, it’s a vulnerable moment, he clearly cares what kravitz thinks), and kravitz tells him he loves him. to which taako replies with a joke. he does not return the words.

taako doesn’t hesitate to construct the best day ever for lup, never even questions why she’d ask. he puts it all together, cooks for her, shows her he knows her, he loves her—and then when she bears her heart to him, tells him he is her heart, all he says is, “i know,” and pulls out a bottle of vodka. of course lup knows he loves her, the whole day was an elaborate demonstration of it, but he doesn’t say anything. to be fair, it’s not exactly a typical interaction between them, taako is textually scared shitless, lup did just tell him she’s going to turn herself into an undead abomination, so he’s not exactly at his best here. but anyway.

i don’t really have anything to add to this observation, it’s just very consistent and interesting to me. taako is fairly comfortable with grand gestures, but sidesteps around words. which ties in perfectly with his identity as a chef, to me. cooking is an action, work, intention, cooking for people is an act of love, an act of connection, an act of caring, and taako’s character doesn’t fit the bill for that—except, he kinda really does.

[hollowed-theory-hall]

hello 🤗

As your point about hinny, is Ginny actually so -called 'safe girl' for Harry? Like he knows her and don't need to know smbd else, they have some shared experiences (Chamber of Secrets and fighting Voldemort in general), she's cute and knows how to defend herself, so Harry can't worry, etc

I've always wondered how Ginny even agrees to this kind of relationship where Harry doesn't tell her anything, bc of their interaction in canon I don't see any reason to see them in a more or less healthy relationship after the war, especially if Harry becomes an Auror. maybe Ginny is like Molly in this way, clearly more than she can think for herself, and so is Hermione - they both listen to her as an authoritative woman and accepted her advices

Hello 👋

I think Ginny doesn't see their relationship the way it is. She idolized Harry as someone he very clearly isn't:

“But you’ve been too busy saving the Wizarding world,” said Ginny, half laughing. “Well . . . I can’t say I’m surprised. I knew this would happen in the end. I knew you wouldn’t be happy unless you were hunting Voldemort. Maybe that’s why I like you so much.”

(HBP)

I mean, the things she loves about him are just not true about him at all. She is in love with a person who doesn't exist. And honestly, I don't know if love is the right word. I'd even call it an obsession:

“I never really gave up on you,” she [Ginny] said. “Not really. I always hoped. . . . Hermione told me to get on with life, maybe go out with some other people, relax a bit around you, because I never used to be able to talk if you were in the room, remember? And she thought you might take a bit more notice if I was a bit more — myself.”

(HBP)

She is so fixated on being with Harry that she changes her own behavior around him so he would like her better. I also mentioned here how I think her interest in Quidditch is relatively new. That she started playing for Harry to like her better. (I mean, she only started showing interest in the sport during book 5, there were no hints of it before that).

Ron describes how upset she after Harry broke up with her, none of which she was willing to show Harry:

“You ditched her. What are you doing now, messing her around,” “I’m not messing her around,” said Harry, as Hermione caught up with them. “Ron—” But Ron held up a hand to silence her. “She was really cut up when you ended it—” “So was I. You know why I stopped it, and it wasn’t because I wanted to.”

(DH)

But that 'so was I', was he? Was he really 'cut up' over it? He didn't think about her until he saw her again, and Aunt Muriel was the one who had to mention Ginny's dress had a very low cut, Harry didn't notice:

“Yes, my tiara sets off the whole thing nicely,” said Auntie Muriel in a rather carrying whisper. “But I must say, Ginevra’s dress is far too low cut.” Ginny glanced around, grinning, winked at Harry, then quickly faced the front again.

(DH)

That aforementioned faked "toughness" is also one of the only things Harry actively mentions liking about Ginny:

He chanced a glance at her. She was not tearful; that was one of the many wonderful things about Ginny, she was rarely weepy. He had sometimes thought that having six brothers must have toughened her up

(DH)

Now, I actually think this behavior is very different from what we see from Molly. While I'm not the biggest Molly fan, I do have to defend her here. Because she may be a housewife, but she's wearing the pants in her and Arthur's relationship. Molly and Arthur have a very different relationship than Ginny and Harry. With them, I believe they know each other well and love each other for who they are. And yes, they argue, but the undercurrent is a love that's always there. Molly wouldn't just accept anything Arthur decided to dish (not that he would) at her and we clearly see she gets mad at him over various things, from getting muggle stitches to enchanting a car to having a fistfight at a bookstore. She doesn't just agree with everything he says/does the way Ginny does.

Hermione, too, is not someone I see willing to deal with Ron keeping secrets from her. I mean, she sent birds to attack him when he made out with Lavender when they weren't together yet, I don't see her as the kind of wife that'll be chill with not being told the important things. I mean, it's not that you have to tell your partner everything, but the expectation is that of trust and understanding, something that Harry and Ginny don't seem to have.

With Harry and Ginny, Harry sees Ginny as a 'safe girl' on whom Harry can have a crush. For Ginny, Harry is her childhood hero crush she's been obsessed with for years. She changed her personality to date him, she dated other guys to get his attention, and once she got him she did everything, accepted everything from him with no argument because she didn't want to lose him and was insecure in their relationship.

To me, this doesn't seem healthy at all, but that's what it seems like.

How jealous Ginny is, not even letting Harry go with Cho to see Ravenclaw's statue in book 7. How annoyed she got when Harry for a second mentioned Fleur is pretty in passing. Again indicates how insecure Ginny is in this relationship, she doesn't trust Harry to stay with her and she is willing to turn her entire life around if it means being with Harry Potter whom she thinks she loves.

This is how Ginny's character reads to me, which is one of the reasons I really don't like her. I don't see her as incredibly brave or badass, I feel she is wearing a facade of the badass girl she thinks Harry wants while beneath she's an insecure, emotional mess who is desperately trying to keep from crying cause she thinks Harry would hate her if she cried.

And I don't think Harry knows this is what the relationship is. I don't think he realized Ginny was trying so hard to fit the 'safe girl' image he projected on her so he wouldn't leave her. I think he misses all her effort and thinks it's just who she is — which is exactly what Ginny is trying to accomplish.

But Ginny doesn't fully realize this is what she's doing. I think, in her mind, she is trying to be a girl "worthy" of the Harry Potter image she has in her head. She doesn't see him as who he is, but as some Chosen One savior of the wizarding world Harry never wanted to be. So she puts all his actions in this context: "It's fine cause he's saving us," or "he's the hero so it's fine," it's not about Harry as a person to her. And she's trying so hard to be who she thinks the girlfriend of the Boy-Who-Lived should be.

So to your question of why Ginny deals with it? Well, she convinced herself she has to be with Harry (or, at least, the image she has of him). She wrapped up herself so much in that fixation that she was willing to deal with anything from him if it meant being with him. Except for him looking at another girl for even a second.

I mean, if she's willing to change her entire personality and date guys she doesn't like to get Harry and be someone she thinks is "worthy" of him, what's dealing with a few secrets to help save the world compared to that?

(It could've been really funny if Harry did end up with Luna who Ginny didn't consider a threat. But this is just me with my "if I had to ship Harry with a girl it'll always be Luna" agenda)

[deepseasmetro]

actually i have to talk about this scene now bc i just noticed something ive never noticed before

when jasper first shows up, she grabs lapis in a really similar way to the first time we seem them fuse, when she coerces her into fusing:

however, in alone at sea, she immediately turns this into her kneeling before lapis. initially this can be read as her attempting to be less intimidating and convince lapis to fuse with her without coercion, but she's still gripping tightly onto lapis' hand

jasper is an abusive person. and she's somebody who fundamentally cannot conceive of a relationship between two people that is not built on a fundamental power imbalance. so when she's trying to convince lapis to fuse with her, she puts herself physically beneath lapis, in a position most often associated with begging and reverance.

however, again - despite this, she remains firmly making unwanted physical contact with lapis (refusing to fully give up control of the situation), and the moment lapis is hesitating and steven begins to attempt to interfere, she not only stands back up (again placing herself above lapis), she physically intimidates her by backing her into a wall, where lapis is clearly visibly distressed and frightened

she continues to insist she's changed for the better, and tries to basically say that their relationship was equally fulfilling and positive for both parties, but she is still attempting to physically intimidate lapis and scare her into agreeing

obviously this scene isn't exactly subtle in the way it's portraying jasper and lapis' relationship but it's interesting and neat to see the more subtle ways they emphasize this dynamic through their body language and the storyboarding

[skzdreamz]

if requests are still open ... wealthy man BC with a not-so-secret breeding/preg kink, a little obsessive/possessive personality, raising his eyebrow in ire, slightly clenching his jaw because (female character) lost a little bit of weight -- she thought he'd find her more attractive if she were skinnier -- and now has less of a belly pouch (i.e., that very womanly tell-tale of having a uterus lols). His grip around her hips tighten, stares down hard at her, "this body isn't your's to tweak with. it's mine." his hand hovers over where her little pouch used to be, "it's mine to fill."

Sorry it took so long, I tried to include every element of your request, but I also wanted to keep my own style of writing so I hope this was what you expected and I hope it was worth the wait! <3

Feedback is always more than welcome!

Check out my other stories here!

~

All mine

pairing: dom!Chan x fem!reader warnings: pet names, cussing, possessive Chan, choking, breeding kink, mentions of weight loss word count: 1.8K+

~

Chan is a hardworking man. having his own company means a lot of business trips and a lot of nights spending in your shared bed alone. you admire the passion he has for his work, but you still miss him every time he has to go out of the country for his work.

he just got back from a bsuiness trip. you haven't seen each other for a couple of weeks and you really missed him. so when he finally came back from his trip, you jumped into his arms. he drops his bags as soon as he sees you and greets you with open arms and a wide smile.

"I missed you so much baby girl" he places his hands on your ass for support. you can't help but giggle as he gives your ass a soft squeeze. you rest you chin on his shoulder and hum "I missed you too, these past few weeks have been very hard". you give him a passionate kiss. "I know baby, I know. but I'm here now and I won't be leaving for a couple of months for now" he says as he breaks the kiss.

as he unpacks his stuff and washes up you prepared dinner. you made his favourite dish to celebrate him having a good trip and coming home safely. you plate your food and wait for him to return so you can talk about the past few weeks and what you’ve been up to. you can’t help but notice how good he looks. even though he had a tiring trip, he just looks so good and every inch of your body is craving him more and more.

after dinner he insists on washing the dishes and guides you upstairs so you can finally wash up. you step under the shower and as soon as the warm water hits your back you whimper. you didn’t realize your body craved him as much as it did, but feeling the warmth of the fog around you makes you think about how much you’ve actually missed being in Chan’s arms.

you step out of the shower and put on some lingerie you bought for him as a little present. you put on a robe and look at yourself in the mirror, content with the way you look. you see him scrolling on his phone when you walk into the living room. his eyes immediately start scanning your whole body. he’s too curious to know what’s hiding under that robe, even though he has seen your body over a hundred times. he puts his phone down and walks over to you, kissing you passionately. you break the kiss and intertwine your hands in his, leading him to your shared bedroom.

you haven't really been intimate before he left for his trip, because he was so busy preparing for everything. seeing him again makes you crave him even more than before, but something inside you made you anxious. you were afraid he didn't love you as much as he did before. you began to overthink every single thing about your body during his time away and came to the conclusion that you had to lose some weight in order to keep up with his standards. so you did.

you push him onto the bed and as soon as you drop your robe, his smile fades. you mistook his expression for lust, but as soon as you try to kiss him he stops you. your heart drops to your stomach as you feel the insecurities washing over you again. did he really not love me anymore? does he think I look ugly like this? was I supposed to lose more weight? all these questions are popping up in your head and you try to scan his face for more answers.

"what is this?" he clenches his jaw looking annoyed. his voice is deeper than you've ever heard and you don't know if you should be turned on or scared. "I asked you a question didn't it?" he grabs your face and brings it closer to his. "who told you to do this?" he lets go of your face harshly and stands up. his breath fanning over your face making you shiver.

"I- I don't know what you mean Chan" you whimper. he lets out a sarcastic chuckle, he grabs your hips and stares at you. "now tell me why you thought it was a good idea to lose this" he says as he rubs his fingers over your now smaller belly pouch. you let out a shaky breath you didn't even realize you were holding and you close your eyes. his fingers are dancing around your belly and his free hand cups your face. "look at me and tell me baby girl.. what was the reason?"

you feel your voice giving up on you, but you still manage to say something. although it comes out more as a whisper. "I thought you'd like me better this way" you look down at your feet and fumble with your fingers. you feel Chan grabbing your chin. he still has that angry look on his face. "what made you think that was a good idea?"

you feel tears forming in your eyes. you couldn't help the tear running down your cheek and you immediately see his eyes soften at the sight. "no no baby don't cry, it's okay" he wraps his strong arms around you and rubs your back in order for you to calm down. "I just thought you would think of me as beautiful. we haven't been intimate for god knows how long and I figured it was because you didn't find me attractive anymore" you sniffle.

he pushes your body off of him and you see he has that stern look on his face again. "I will always find you attractive. you're the most beautiful person I've ever laid my eyes on. I know we haven't been intimate for a long time. I was busy and didn't realise I was neglecting you, but I'll make it up to you" he cups your face with both hands and kisses you passionately. the passionate kiss soon turns into a heavy make out session. he backs you up and pushes you down onto the bed. lust evident in his eyes again. the soft Chan he was 2 minutes ago, disappeared completely.

"I guess I'll have to remind you that this body is not yours to tweak with. it's mine" he growls as he starts leaving love bites all over your neck and cleavage. you moan at the intense biting and you can't help but squirm under his touch. his mouth travels down your body and he stops right at your belly pouch. "this.." he says as he grabs the flesh "this is mine and you can't just take anything that's mine".

he hooks his fingers in your panties and slides them down your legs. he unclasps your bra and throws it on the floor with your panties. he blows some air on your wet cunt and you gasp at the sudden cold air hitting your heat. he grins before licking a thick stripe in between your folds, tasting all of you. you try to close your legs around his head but he stops you just in time and holds your legs open with his strong arms. he gives a harsh suck on your clit to warn you.

pleasure is overtaking you and you can't help but try to close your legs. he slaps your thigh, warning you again to not play these games with him. you know you shouldn’t test his limits. especially not when you made him mad about thinking you were not good enough for him. but his tongue is working magic on your clit and you can’t control your body anymore.

before you know it your thighs are on both sides of his head. you only notice once you don't feel his tongue on your cunt anymore, making you whine at the loss of contact. "wasn't one warning enough?" he flips you on your stomach. "ass up baby girl, you're in for a ride" he quickly takes off his clothes and rubs his tip through your folds to collect some of your wetness. he then shoves his shaft in you completely without a warning. he doesn't let you adjust and picks up his pace immediately.

his cock is stretching you out deliciously and he's hitting your sweet spot with every thrust. his hips are snapping into yours at a delicious angle making you a moaning mess. his cock is making you see stars and you feel a knot forming in the pit of your stomach. you know that you won’t last any longer if he keeps thrusting into you like that.

he seems to notice by the way you’re clenching around his cock. he pulls out just before you could reach your climax and you felt like crying for losing your orgasm. he turns you around again so you’re now laying on your back. “I want to see that pretty face of yours while I fuck some sense into you”

he inserts his cock again, this time taking it slower than before. his cock sliding between your walls and the wet sound of your mixed juices could make you cum right away. he softly strokes your face with the back of his hand before sliding down and wrapping his hand around your neck. he applies a bit of pressure on the sides of your neck making you feel lightheaded. the lack of oxygen makes the pleasure unbearable and you’re practically screaming by now.

“I love those pretty sounds you’re making for me baby girl” he groans. he feels you clenching around his cock even harder. “you like that? keep clenching like that and I’ll spill my seed into you” his moans becoming more high pitched as your cunts clenches at every filthy sentence he breaths into your ear. “yeah? want me to breed you? fuck I want to breed you” the only response you can give are moans and whimpers.

he sits up, now leaning on his heels as he keeps fucking you. “Ch-Chan.. I’m close” you whimper. he keeps up a steady pace as you fall apart beneath him. he fucks you through your orgasm and you feel his thrusts getting sloppier. “Fuck y/n I’m close” he rubs his hands over your belly. “I want to breed you so badly” he falls forward breathing into your ear. “gonna.. fuck.. gonna give you my babies” he says as he sucks your sweet spot beneath your ear. “yes Chan, give it to me, I want all of you” you whisper back.

he pushes his hand between your bodies and on your stomach before spilling his seed deep inside of you. he comes with a low grunt and lets his body fall onto yours completely. after finally getting his breathing back to normal he pushes himself off of your body and places his hand on your belly while still having his cock inside.

“this is mine to fill. you are mine”

~

taglist: @softyoogi @felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna @sillyrabbit76

[bhaalsdeepbat]

Little Wyll/Karlach/Astarion things

Astarion introducing people all, "This is my girlfriend, Karlach. This is her boyfriend, Wyll." gives him a little narrow eyed look, but Wyll is just like...buddy, my star, you were literally sleeping on my chest last night wtf are you on today.

UGH AND THEN the sun, moon, and stars embroidery. IMAGINE OK. Imagine that being for these three. Karlach and Wyll are the light of his day, and he is their light in the darkness of night. He makes a matching one for Wyll while the three are in Avernus together, but time feels less pressing as it did before. It feels like they suddenly have ALL the time in the world, despite Wyll and Karlach still being mortals. The end to their finite time is just not suddenly there on the horizon, waiting to cruelly separate them when they've had so little time together.

Karlach giving Ulder a piece of her mind and having Astarion drag her off bc he can tell Wyll does NOT want this confrontation happening. She's overheated, he can't even touch her bare skin without getting singed, and Wyll just is like. so struck by the fact that she cares so much about him that she refuses to let Ulder act like he didn't abandon his son. It wouldn't be anything bad, but it would be scathing, and end with how happy she is that Ulder and Wyll have been reunited bc Wyll's a REALLY great guy and if you abandon him like that again you'll be talking to me (and she pauses when she feels Astarion poke her to give her a look, and she can just read it) AND fangs

Astarion just crosses his arms and tries to look menacing...which, to his credit, the red eyes and teeth are creepy af, but mostly he just looks bitchy and like he might eat Ulder.

wyll practicing his dancing and inviting them both one night to dance around the campfire. Astarion sits off to the side, content to watch them. Karlach likes to dance, but not in the way Wyll does, so it's awkward at first, then after a few times where her big feet stomp on his toes, he decides to follow her lead instead. He's never danced like that before, but enjoyed every second of it. Before the evening ends, Astarion allows him one single dance just so he can show Karlach what he had been practicing. None of them talk about Astarion dancing with Wyll again. It's a treasured memory, but the two know that's a barred teasing topic (they bust his balls a lot and he just. begrudgingly accepts it, but some topics they KNOW to avoid)

wyll feeling suffocated by mizora one night and just. he's calm as hell, but Astarion notices him sulking first (I hc our resident vamp as the most perceptive at the camp bc of all i think he was doing for Caz). He tries to talk to wyll, but astarion isn't good at not bristling and it's one of those times where wyll just. he's being scathing. he's meeting astarion at astarion's petty level, and astarion is downright impressed.

he's like ????? like he's not even mad. he's just all "who knew the famed blade of frontiers had this nasty side" and he's smirking and it isn't a sexual comment at all but it accidentally does. and him being impressed rather than bristling is what leads to Astarion being the one to be like "ok now that we've had our dick measuring contest, just tell me wtf is going on"

Every time Mizora shows up, Astarion starts running his mouth like an attack chihuahua. Insults, barks, bared teeth, he does NOT like her. Karlach joins him, they play off each other a lot, actually. Like Karlach IS the attack dog, which makes Astarion feel a little more ballsy when he's mouthing off bc he knows any fight he cause WILL be ended with his beautiful gf knocking their ass out.

Wyll spends that night just. completely distraught. he can't even be with karlach and astarion, he asks for time alone to deal with his thoughts, and they respect it. Astarion keeps an eye from a distance, but he and Karlach allow him the space until he's ready for them, then they both move in to comfort him.

Karlach is great at hugs. She holds him and it's so comforting that Wyll finds himself believing it when Astarion is PROMISING that they'll figure it out. Astarion isn't soft in this moment, he certainly isn't kind while comforting Wyll, but he's genuine. Wyll knows Astarion means it when he promises that him and Karlach will be at Wyll's side to help him fight his battles, because like it or not, his battles are theirs to fight as well.

They'd go after Cazador first after Astarion is nearly (or successfully is) kidnapped. Karlach is PISSED, she's raging, ready to burn down the entire palace just to smoke Caz out. Wyll, equally angry, but actually comes up with a really, really good idea. Like he sits everyone down, goes through the battle plan, and Astarion is just so silent the entire time bc he cannot believe these two would rally so hard around him.

This is the point where every time someone is the least bit mean to Wyll, it is ON SIGHT for Astarion. Before, he'd butt in if someone crossed a line he felt shouldn't be crossed, or if it was Ulder or Mizora, but now it's ANYONE. Only he gets to insult his beloved Wyllyam.

Karlach on the docks, saying her goodbyes, holding her heart, her eyes welling with tears as she sees Wyll and Astarion look at her with just. the amount of grief in their eyes. She can't take it. it's the first chip in her resolve that allows them to swoop in and convince her to keep going.

Wyll moves first. Tells her she doesn't have to be alone, she'll have him AND astarion to watch her back. this isn't a convo any of them have had. astarion and wyll both know she'd rather die than go to avernus, but wyll KNOWS Astarion would go there in a heartbeat, and vise versa. they just know each other very very well at this point

So, Wyll is talking to her, Astarion is hiding under his cloak AND Wyll's bc the sun is threatening to burn him alive, but he can't leave Karlach alone. His own skin is cracking with the threat of turning to ash. Wyll holds onto Karlachs' hands, stares into her scared eyes, and she can SEE that he means the promise he makes to her. He will NOT let her be alone in Avernus, if she chooses to return.

Astarion, despite trying to hide from his own imminent death, gives his points. they're quick, not as nicely said as when he has a one on one with her bc he's also trying not to die, but he's more worried about her than he is himself.

Karlach, assured that the two men who vowed to love her to her dying breath, agrees to go to Avernus with them. They have one hell of a bloody time together. It's one of the best chapters in their life stories, after they get Karlach's heart fixed and they're all able to leave Avernus.

All three of them finally free of the bonds of servitude, they're able to explore the world. They're free to go where they wish, free to love who they wish, and free to finally choose their own paths and futures, though their choices will always involve being together.

[queer-overwatch]

heyy <3 i was wondering if you could do HC's of either Venture or Sojourn with a GN s/o who has a lot of medical scarring all over their body? (basically comforting them 'bout them) :)

thank youuuuuu

I totally yoinked this one bc I HAVE SCARS AND I FEEL BAD ABT THEM SOMETIMES TOO!!! Which is completely stupid bc scars are so cool in my opinion- anyway! Here's some headcanons for ya anon! <3 -Frisk

Venture and Sojourn comforting reader with scars!

⸙❯────「♅」────❮⸙

Sojourn!

Out of everyone she understands your experiences the most

Whenever you're feeling bad about your scarring, she thinks of what she'd want to hear and would use that to comfort you

She can't really get scars anymore, at least not in the most common areas, but she'll try and paint a few onto her legs and arms to match you!

if you want to share stories about how you got them, she's more than happy to listen

If you're okay with it, whenever you two are cuddling or are just close to each other she'll trace over them with her hands

Finds them fascinating in a bit of a morbid way, though she 100% keeps those thoughts to herself

Will be the most casual person ever about it, to her it isn't a big deal. If it doesn't matter to you, then she couldn't care less

She loves you, and that includes your body

Venture!

══════ஜ▲ஜ══════

Scars? Huh? What-?

They would literally never notice if you hadn't told them-

way too busy staring into your eyes lovingly like a huge dork 24/7 for it to register in their head

They have probably noticed but forgot 2 seconds later

They are way more open about how cool they think scarring is! If you're okay with them complimenting or asking about your scars, oh boy you better expect to be thrown into a story time

They have some too! Like their tooth! And they have a bunch on their hands thanks to their drill

They never had any negative connections to scars so they're plenty open to conversations about 'em!

Would probably absentmindedly talk about their own since in the back of their head its like "Oh my god my partner had scarring too! That's so awesome! Story time!"

If you're insecure about your scars then they become the biggest sweetheart ever

If you don't like talking about them then that's fine! All you gotta do is ask and bam, its gone from their brain in 2-3 business days

If you ever come to them and talk about how you don't like your scars, after asking for permission of course, they will kiss the ever loving hell out of every single little mark on your body (if you let them, of course)

also absolutely adores your body, no matter what you think's "wrong" with it

[ahamkara-apologist]

yeah the destint fandom ignores everyone who isn't like. one of the Main Few Guys. there's so few fics with ANY of the women it's insane. how is there literally no failsafe content out there. hardly a lick of savathun. ikora and Eris get a Little Bit. six hundred quintillion crow fics though

Yeah, I fuckin noticed!! Literally everything is either Crow or Cayde, and while I know this is because the fandom scene is typically dominated by straight women, hence the notorious effect of Ignore/Sideline Female Characters, I'm still baffled by just how bad it is now that I've actually found a series that has female characters good enough for them to become my blorbos (a rarity). Like, Cayde and Crow are fandom bait, I'm aware, but really?? We have entire expansions and seasons revolving around characters like Eramis, Eris, and Savathun, but there's still fucking nothing with them?? Or, in Eris's case, only for the purpose of Drifteris, where the fans often shoehorn hetero stereotypes onto them both bc they 'fix each other' and openly use racist slurs for Drifter because they think its funny?? As someone who enjoys fandom because I love to pick apart stories and characters and analyze them under a microscope, this is just fucking agonizing. And honestly, I wouldn't even put Ikora in the mix because Ikora/Eris is still extremely niche and half the time people can't even talk about them without throwing Drifter into the mix as well

For me personally, I feel like it sucks even more in Destiny because this is a series that has female characters that actually feel like...well, strong, interesting, compelling characters. Like, this is entirely bias talking here, but Eramis's story arc of a mellow, loving mother becoming the bitter, angry, cutthroat pirate/politician/ruler she is now is a much more interesting personal arc compared to Cayde's, as Cayde's major narrative impact was defined more by how he influenced others and what his absence did to the narrative than who he actually was as a person (sorry Cayde fans, I'm not trying to diss your boy, more pointing out the different character uses here). She's also unique in that she's the one recurring major antagonist we've had who is truly morally grey and working for the good of her people rather than selfishly, but the only time people ever talk about her, its to complain about her and how she's apparently doing all of these crimes that she either a.) never did (attempted genocide against humanity- ????), b.) had no choice in doing (rasputin's death), c.) war crimes (she's got less on her record than what the vanguard did), or d.) she's a hypocrite (she's aware. its a facade. her angry melodrama is a facade guys. YOU'RE FALLING FOR HER MASK).

Like I get that the curse of enjoying morally grey characters is that nobody ever understands them properly and that her being a woman factors into this mess, but the total lack of content makes this even worse somehow. She's not an insignificant character and yet- nothing. It's a fucking travesty honestly and it frustrates me to no end

[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 silly.

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 f—”

“—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. Ugh, 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.”

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.”

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 all 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.

Ooo, your breathing feels a little better, too. Cool!

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.

Oh, 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 so much more time has passed.

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 whispers insistently, “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’ll 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 betrayal to her and Rick. Even you’re 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, then you imagined 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 by unseen persons.

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 and you felt 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 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.

Things started to ease. 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.”

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." And —oh, Y/N, I’m so sorry that you’re worrying yourself like this over my mistake! 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 can you 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 TV 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 of 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 her 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, very 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 it wasn’t her doing the 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 cleaned up 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 guilty as hell.

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.

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…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 realized 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?? “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.” Never seen her in a dress, is all. 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. He carefully 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.

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 with 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 things 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 ad-lib. “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. Then the way he snuggled the chick, how your legit lips bumped into his fingers?? He noticed your panicking and was all soothing and shit? Dude, and you were trying to sit like a dainty lady the whole time, too, what a poser.

Still, you think you were convincing. 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, no way he'd even care. It's Daryl.

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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[zegrasdrysdale]

can we now have a fic when the test says positive? <33

[ plus sign ] j. drysdale

paring : Jamie Drysdale x fem!reader

summary : (Y/N) surprises Jamie with a present that will change his life after he gets home from a game

warning(s) : mentions of sex but no actual sex, pregnancy

author’s note : i am really just fueling the baby fever i have had for days at this point. self indulging i guess. anyway, enjoy :) (this isn't a second part to "not our time" btw bc this request came in after i posted that)

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She noticed the first red flag that morning when she and Jamie were fooling around before he left for his game. He gave her breast a light squeeze and it hurt when it usually feels good. She blamed it on the fact that she was probably about to start her period.

That's when she noticed the unopened box of tampons in the cabinet under the sink when she went to pee after they were done in bed.

Her stomach dropped when she did quick math and realized that she hasn't had her period for nearly two months. She needed to go to the store as soon as possible and get some pregnancy tests.

Which has all led up to (Y/N) sitting on the floor against the door as she waits for the results of the two pregnancy tests on the counter next to the sink. Her phone counts down beside her and the closer the time gets to zero, the bigger the knot grows in her stomach.

Yes, she wants a baby. She loves kids. Every time she sees her nieces and nephews, she can't wait to have her own.

She doesn't want to give Jamie a baby he might not even want right now. He's still trying to prove himself as a top defenseman on the Ducks after injuries have sidelined him for months and he may not want the extra stress of having a child.

They haven't even really talked about having kids because it's been less than a year since they went from a friends-with-benefits thing to an actual relationship. She loves him, but she doesn't want to trap him with something he may not even want or need at the moment.

The alarm on her phone goes off after five minutes. She wanted to give the tests enough time for clear results, just in case.

With a shaky sigh, (Y/N) pushes herself up off the ground. She shuts her eyes and gnaws on her lower lip, unsure of what she wants.

She doesn't know which result she'll be happier with. A lot comes with either result.

If it's positive, their lives are going to change. Even if Jamie doesn't want anything to do with the baby, she won't get rid of it. She can't. She'd feel so guilty.

If it's negative, she'll probably be devastated. Maybe she and Jamie aren't ready for a baby but she'll still love them with everything in her. She's in love with the baby and she doesn't even know if she's actually pregnant yet or not.

To rip the bandage off, she opens her eyes and looks immediately at the tests in front of her as she exhales.

'+' stares her in the face.

Twice. There are four lines between both tests on the counter.

A gasp falls from her lips and her hand flies up to her mouth. Her free hand picks up one of the tests to get a closer look at it.

It's positive. They're both positive. There's no doubt about it with how dark those lines are on those tests.

She's going to have a baby. Tears fill her eyes as soon as the realization hits her and a quiet sob passes her lips. A part of her and Jamie is growing in her belly right now.

Her hand falls down to her belly and rubs it a few times. Her face hurts and she realizes that she has the biggest smile on her lips, and probably has since she saw the result of the test.

Jamie. He doesn't even know that she had all those realizations that prompted her to get tests in the first place. He has no idea that she even bought the tests.

Quickly, she throws on her Ducks jersey and a Ducks hockey beanie. She wasn't going to go to the game because of how bad she felt but she wants Jamie to know as soon as possible. This is a piece of him. They made this baby together.

She throws one of the positive tests in a little gift bag to act like it's a gift before she gets in the Uber she called. (Y/N) doesn't trust herself to drive a car with how badly her hands are shaking.

There is two hours before the game starts so Jamie is probably in the gym with the rest of the guys to get their pregame workout in. All the staff looks at her with a confused look on their face as she makes her way to the team gym.

The security guard stops her from walking in. "Sorry, miss," he says. "No one is allowed in the gym while the team is in there. Can I get someone for you?"

"Can you just tell Jamie Drysdale to meet me in the team lounge area so I can give something to him?" she requests. "If it's not too much trouble. Tell him his girlfriend is looking for him."

He nods and heads into the gym. (Y/N) spins on her heels and heads down the hallway to the team lounge room.

It smells like men in the room. She quickly comes to the conclusion that the family lounge room smells so much better. At least it doesn't smell like twenty plus sweaty men.

She paces for a second before the door opens and a very sweaty Jamie walks into the room. "Baby, hey," Jamie greets her. "What's going on? Is everything okay? You've never interrupted the team workout before."

(Y/N) holds out the little gift bag. "I have something for you," she tells him. "Um, it can't wait or I would've waited until after the game. It'll be worth it, I think."

Hesitantly, Jamie reaches out and takes it. She watches as he pulls it open. She's super nervous about the reaction that Jamie will have as soon as he sees what it's the bag.

At first, he looks confused. Then he reaches into the bag and pulls out the positive test. He squints at it then his eyes widen. He looks up at her and asks, "You're pregnant?"

"Yeah," she breathes out. "After this morning, I went out and bought a few tests because it normally doesn't hurt when you squeeze my boob. Then I realized it's been over two months since I last had a period so-"

She's cut off by Jamie pulling her into his arms and picking her up. "We're going to have a baby," he says. Happiness and excitement is in his voice. He doesn't sound angry or worried. "We're really going to have a baby."

A laugh passes her lips and she wraps her arms around his neck. He puts her down softly and she looks up at him. "Now you see why it couldn't wait," she comments. "I was really excited to tell you because they're a part of you too."

The happiness on Jamie's very sweaty face brings tears to her eyes. "Oh my God, (Y/N)," Jamie laughs as he cups her jaw. "You don't have to cry. I'm so happy. I'm ecstatic, baby. I can't wait to meet them. I'm going to love the shit out of this baby because they're a part of you."

(Y/N) laughs and Jamie dries the tears that have rolled down her cheeks. "I love you, Jamie," she tells him. "I can't wait to raise this baby with you. You're going to be the best father."

"They better come to every game with you as soon as they come out of you," Jamie says. "I want to brag to all my teammates that I have the cutest baby in the world."

She smiles and hugs Jamie. He wraps his arms around her for a quick second before he sinks down to his knees. He glances up at (Y/N) for a second and whispers to her belly, "Hi in there. This is your daddy. I can't wait to meet you. Your mom is the most amazing woman in the world and she's going to rock at being a mommy."

Her fingers run through his disgustingly sweaty hair. "Can we celebrate when we go home?" she asks. "After you have had a shower because your hair is disgusting, baby."

"Sorry, sorry," he laughs as he gets off his knees. "I'm just excited. I can't wait." There are voices in the hallway, which means the team is done in the gym. "I have to go get ready but I'll see you during the warm ups, right?" He leans down and pecks her lips,

"Absolutely," she replies. "Go score me a goal tonight."

"One for both of you."

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yourusername

liked by anaheimducks, trevorzegras and 20,392 others

yourusername baby girl drysdale coming in spring 2024 ♡

view all 3,287 comments

masonmctavish23 i'm gonna be an aunt !

tterry19 i don't think that's how that works bud masonmctavish23 oh well

anaheimducks We can't wait to meet baby girl Drysdale!

yourusername <3

trevorzegras oh i am so going to be the uncle that brings your daughter ice cream when you tell me no. that baby is going to be so spoiled

jamie.drysdale going to be the best mama <3

yourusername gonna be the best daddy. baby girl is so lucky to have you as her dad

leocarlssoon looks like there's another rookie joining us this year

nhl Congratulations Jamie and (Y/N)!

frank_vatrano this secret was getting so hard to hold. congratulations tho

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