Chapter Text
Chapter One:
Moving in and Meeting
______________________
The shutters were hideous.
Whoever decided to put brown shutters on a white brick house seriously needed their head examined. That’s what (Y/N) thought, at least.
The more she stared at them, the more she hated them. (Y/N) looked at the house before her, shielding her eyes from the harsh afternoon glare. Sweat dripped down the base of her neck, soaking the collar of her tank top. The sun was relentless for the end of July. She’d only heard how hot the summers in Alabasta County could be, but now she truly knew. It was unlike anything she had ever encountered back home in Loguetown.
Well, what used to be home.
Exactly one week ago (Y/N) packed up her life and left the place she’d known for twenty-five years.
A ruined engagement, a cheating scandal, and the loss of someone you considered a sister would be enough to drive anyone out of town. Hell, out of the country.
As tempting as it was to make that kind of move, (Y/N) was satisfied with the distance she’d managed to put between her and the fallout of it all. Alabasta County was both a random and calculated destination. It was far enough away from hometown gossip but close enough to be near family.
It was drastic. Spur the moment. (Y/N) would admit that much.
But who could blame her?
Some of the people back home called her crazy. Told her she was overreacting.
Maybe she was.
But really, what was the proper reaction to finding out the man you loved for four years, the man you were going to marry and start a life with, not only cheated on you but got his side piece pregnant?
Slashing tires and spending the night in jail for disturbing the peace only scratched the surface of what felt right.
The morning after, Nami paid her bail like the good sister-in-law she was. And once (Y/N) was jail-broke that, Nami helped her find a place to go, even contacting one of her exes to help find home listings in Alabasta.
Vivi truly was a saint. She had taken care of everything to the point where when (Y/N) arrived, all she had to do was sign the dotted line on the deed and viola . It was a whirlwind of a process. The last few days felt like more than a blur. Yet, nothing was more freeing than crossing the Loguetown city limit and getting the hell out of dodge.
Now, (Y/N) was here. Baking in the hellish sun, staring at ugly ass shutters on her new house. She’d moved in less than forty-eight hours ago, and the last thing she wanted to do was major renovations, but the eyesore had to go. The best thing she could do for herself was make this house a home as soon as possible.
****
An hour and a trip to the nearest hardware store later, (Y/N) was back where she started, only now she had two gallons of blue paint in hand—or its proper swatch name, "SUPER Aquamarine.” It was an impulsive choice, all thanks to the store salesman who overzealously said it matched his hair.
As skeptical as she was leaving the store, anything was better than her current shutter color. However, looking at it now after two coats of paint, it did go quite nicely with the white brick. The color really livened the place up and made it happier.
God knows she could use some happiness.
(Y/N) stepped back from where she was working and looked at the house, taking it in. It was a quaint little place—one story, two bedrooms, two bathrooms, a decent-sized yard, sparse neighbors, and most importantly, a porch she could put a swing on. Just enough space for her. Somewhere she could start over and make her own.
An immense feeling of accomplishment settled in her chest. She was proud of herself for so many reasons. Being brave, not allowing her happiness to be dictated by a man who didn't care about her, and overall doing what was best for herself.
As good as (Y/N) felt, she couldn’t do a victory lap just yet. She still had two more windows on the front of the house to paint. Wiping the sweat from her brow, she made a mental deal with herself: paint one more and then take a break.
An ice-cold glass of water and air conditioning had her name written all over it once she was done.
(Y/N) retrieved her paintbrush and went back to work with haste.
It wasn’t long until her focus was thrown. Cutting through the white static noises of the neighborhood was a panicked whine that immediately garnered her attention. (Y/N) set down her brush and walked around the porch toward the noise, trying to pinpoint exactly where it was coming from. It was faint, sporadic.
What she saw when she rounded the corner was mortifying—there in the yard was a calico cat with what looked to be a baby bunny pinned beneath its paws.
From there, chaos ensued.
“Hey!” (Y/N) yelled, charging toward the cat. “Stop!”
She must’ve sounded like a mad woman, but she didn’t know what else to do. Screw Mother Nature and all the survival of the fittest crap. As far as she was concerned, baby animals should be protected by default.
If it were a rat or something creepy-crawly, she would’ve just thanked the cat for its services and went on about her business.
But no, it was a freakin bunny.
As soon as she approached, the calico swooped the bunny up in its mouth and bolted for the first crack leading underneath her porch.
“Hey, stupid cat! No!”
(Y/N) didn’t know if the bunny was alive or dead. She really hoped it wasn't the latter. The mangled corpse of a tiny fluffy floof was not at all the housewarming gift she wanted.
She quickly trailed the cat, bending down to peek under the porch. Fortunately, there was side paneling that could be removed that allowed her to get under there if she ever needed to—and right now, she really wished she didn’t need to. Dropping to her knees, she removed the paneling to free her path and get eyes on the whiskery assailant. The grass was dry and itchy to the touch, stray rocks dug into her knees, and every brush of movement along her skin made her worry that something creepy was actually crawling around.
She quickly spotted the stupid cat. Good news, it had released the bunny from its mouth, for now at least. Bad news, they were both far out of reach, and the bunny was cornered and unmoving.
Please don’t be dead. Please don’t be dead.
Feline eyes stared back at (Y/N) almost mockingly. The cat meowed. Then yawned. It pawed at the bunny, stopped, and looked back in her direction. It was most definitely mocking her.
(Y/N) had thought it impossible to have beef, for lack of a better word, with an animal—much less a cat—yet here she was. At this point, she didn’t care whether the bunny was alive or not; out of pure spite, she refused to let the cat have it.
Again, screw Mother Nature.
Realistically, regarding the food chain, she outranked the cat, and she was about to let it know that. The first step in potentially saving Bunny 101 was to get rid of Garfield’s murderous cousin. Needing to move fast, she grabbed a few small rocks that were within reach and scooted into the opening. The overwhelming smell of damp dirt filled her nose and seeped into her clothes as she flopped on her stomach.
The urge to immediately crawl back out went off like a siren in her head. It took a good fifteen seconds to talk herself down and stay put, no matter how many things were buzzing and slinking around her. The quicker she moved, the quicker she could get out and never ever get back under the porch.
(Y/N) She rotated one of the smaller rocks between her fingers, readying to throw it. Tossing anything from this angle would be hard and awkward enough, but it didn’t help that her aim wasn’t the greatest to begin with. Besides, as mad as she was at the cat, she didn’t want to hurt it.
Taking a deep breath, she chucked the rock, completely missing the cat, not even close to it. The cat looked completely unbothered. So unbothered that it sat back on its hind legs and slumped to the side, lying down.
“Are you flipping kidding me?” (Y/N) grumbled.
The last straw was the lazy meow that came from the cat like it had the time in the world to watch her act a fool while it waited for its dinner. (Y/N) threw three more rocks in succession. One of them landed right in front of the cat, causing it to jump up. It looked as if the cat would grab the bunny and run again. “Don’t even think about it, you stupid cat!!”
She threw one more, whizzing it right past the cat’s head. The proximity to hitting the cat made (Y/N’s) stomach clench, but it was just what she needed to finally get the cat to retreat. The Calico tore out from under the porch in a flash, dashing for the opposite end, away from (Y/N) and her potentially catastrophic target practice.
“Hell yes!” She cheered, triumphant. “Sorry, kitty cat, but you were a pain in my ass, so I had to be one in yours.”
Step one was complete.
Yet, her victory was short-lived. She still had to get the bunny out somehow.
Logically, all she had to do was scoot about five feet forward, grab it, and then get out. The only problem was she didn’t know if she could crawl backward while holding the bunny and not hurt it or herself. The space underneath the porch wasn’t big. She barely fit, lying flat on her stomach, propped up on her elbows. One wrong move, and she’d knock her head off. As fun as a concussion sounded to really top off the day, she’d have to pass.
With the bunny still in her sight, (Y/N) carefully crawled out from the porch. Her clothes were covered in mud, sweat, and grime. Her yellow tank top was more than ruined. She smoothed her hair back from her face, no doubt leaving dirt behind everywhere her coated fingers moved. Sitting back on her heels, she looked around the yard, scouring until her eyes landed on what she needed.
(Y/N) took one last glance at where the bunny lay, surveyed the yard just to be sure the cat was no longer around, then stood and bounded for the stairs of the porch. Beside the front door was an empty paint pan she hadn’t used due to the hole perforating the side. She had almost thrown it away hours earlier, but now she was thankful she hadn’t. It wasn’t perfect, but it would get the job done. She quickly returned to her previous uncomfortable position amongst the damp and dark. Pushing the tray in first, she scooted back into the opening and let her eyes adjust to the darkness. In an instant, her heart dropped. The bunny was gone.
She crawled further, searching frantically. “No. No. No.” She stopped just shy of where she knew the bunny was last.
The cat must’ve come back when she was getting the paint pan. She knew she shouldn't have left— should've just saved it while she had the chance.
Dammit .
She'd be lying if she said she didn't want to cry at that moment. It was a dumb reason, sure, but she felt defeated nonetheless. Stupid good-for-nothing, baby bunny-killing cat.
If she wasn't a dog person before, she sure was now. Cats were most definitely temperamental jerks. Menaces to society. Of course, her opinion could be swayed should a cat take care of something menacing, but today was not that day. Today, cats sucked.
Just as (Y/N) was about to fall back, the slightest movement caught her attention. The bunny was now almost on the other side of the porch, slowly hobbling.
“Ah!!! You’re alive!”
(Y/N) scrambled forward, reaching well into the middle of her porch. The thought of being under there was no longer bothersome, in the forefront of her mind. Her goal was well within reach, and she would get it this time.
Yet, every stride (Y/N) made, the bunny did the same. At this rate, it would slip out of the other side of the paneling, which wasn't necessarily a problem, except for the fact that she had already crawled this far to rescue it.
“Hey you,” She called out, slightly winded. “Stop moving. I didn't do all of this just for you to rescue yourself!” The bunny stopped as if it actually understood her.
Yeah, that's what I thought. Finally, within reach of the little fluff ball, (Y/N) scooped it up in her hands as carefully as she could and gently placed it in the paint pan. The bunny's fur was wet to the touch, making her cringe; in the dim lighting, she couldn't tell whether it was saliva or blood... She prayed it was cat spit.
With the bunny safe and in tow, she made it to the other side, quickly pushing the side paneling out and creating a much-needed exit.
(Y/N) scooted the pan out first and then followed suit. She had never been more happy to feel the sun beating down on her. It was like coming up for fresh air. Literally .
Rising up onto her hands and knees, she moved the pan closer and looked the bunny over. It was tiny. It couldn't be more than a couple of weeks old. Her bunny knowledge was minimal—basically nonexistent, but she knew it was young, considering its fur was still sparse and seemed as if it had only just opened its eyes.
“Hey, little guy,” (Y/N) cooed, stroking the top of the bunny's head lightly. “You look okay, I think. No noticeable bites taken out of you, at least.” Her earlier fear of blood-soaked fur turned out to actually be cat spit.
“I don't know a thing about taking care of you, but surely Google will be mighty helpful. What do you say? Do you wanna stay with me, Bugs?” The bunny nuzzled into her hand like it was giving her its approval.
“Tell me you're not seriously going to name a rabbit Bugs—like Bugs Bunny." A voice bellowed above her, amused. "Come on, you gotta be more creative than that!”
(Y/N) froze.
She hadn't noticed anyone approach, but sure enough, someone had seen her… Sitting in the grass… Covered in dirt…Talking to an animal.
Yup, I'm going to be known as the crazy neighbor. Maybe It's not too late to move again.
Reluctantly, (Y/N) allowed her gaze to travel upward—from scuffed black leather boots and cargo shorts, to an open button-up revealing a more than toned torso, all the way up to the sweetest brown eyes.
Starstruck. Bumfuzzled. Perplexed. Words had escaped her. It was beyond cliché to say that this was the prettiest man she'd ever seen, but call her every one in the book because this man was something else.
The man stared down at her, brow quirked, confusion evident on his face.
God, she must have been gaping like a fish out of water. Did he say something? I don't even know what he said. What did he—
Meow.
It was like nails on a chalkboard. Grating. Sliding. Gnawing away at (Y/N’s) nerves and causing her to shudder.
She only just noticed the Calico perched on the man’s shoulder.
“Stupid cat!”
“I'm sorry, what?” The man asked.
(Y/N) hoisted herself up, bringing the pan with her. She cradled it close to her chest, arms protectively caging the bunny inside and shielding it from the unwanted spectator. “That stupid cat! Is it yours?"
“Striker isn't the sharpest tool in the shed, but he can be quite mischevious when he wants to be.” He grinned, scratching the cat’s chin.
Oh... He has dimples.
( Y/N) shook her head, clearing it of unnecessary, intrusive thoughts. “Well, you need to keep that thing on a leash or something,” She huffed, trying to keep the agitation in her voice and not cringe at how dumb she sounded.
The man laughed. Hard. He doubled over, clutching his side and displacing the cat from its perch. “You want me to put a cat on a leash?” Striker found a new home between the man’s legs, weaving between them, flitting his tail back and forth.
(Y/N) glared at the cat. Smug little bastard. The man was right, though. It was stupid. But in her defense, she wasn't thinking clearly. It was hot. He was hot. Wires were being crossed—completely not her fault.
“Whatever, just keep that thing out of my yard.” (Y/N) dismissed, looking for the quickest escape route into her house.
“Ma’am, I'm sorry. Is there a problem here?”
There was a southern edge to his voice when he spoke like that—emphasizing all the right syllables to the point where agitation was slipping, and attraction was taking over in (Y/N’s) mind.
“Yes.” (Y/N) held her resolve; pretty privilege wouldn't prevail today. “Your killer cat is the problem,” She motioned to said homicidal feline at his feet.
The man was fighting laughter as he pointed to the pan. “I'm guessing it has something to do with lil’ Bugs Bunny here?”
When he said it like that, the name sounded super cliché. Oh, well. She wasn't changing it now.
“Yes. He tried to kill Bugs.”
“I see,” He nodded. “So, he was hunting?”
It was her turn to nod. “Sure, I guess?”
“So, you're mad at my cat for hunting?” He said slowly, articulating his words like he was worried she’d misunderstand him. “What cats do by nature and instinct.”
(Y/N) blinked at the man. The stupidly hot, attractive man with the stupid, murderous cat. Her face was on fire and had nothing to do with the sweltering sun starting to fall in the sky.
“Look, dude, I don't need you to make me sound any more ridiculous than I already feel.”
The man stuck his hands up in mock surrender. “I'm not trying to do anything of the sort. I'm just trying to understand your side of things and defend my client to the best of my abilities,” He quipped.
(Y/N) couldn’t help but roll her eyes. “What are you? A lawyer?”
“Firefighter, actually,” The man stated proudly. “Which is why I came barreling out my front door when I heard yelling.” He looked her up and down, not lingering anywhere in particular before meeting her gaze again, his lips curling up enough to cause a dimple to pop out. “So imagine my surprise when I see a pretty little lady running around the yard like a chicken with her head cut off.”
Pretty? He thinks I’m pretty?
Stop. Focus.
“You-you seen all of that ?” She cringed. Ten minutes ago, she didn’t care how unhinged or ridiculous she may have looked to the handful of potential bystanders who could’ve seen her running amok in the yard. Yet, standing in front of a man whose smile was enough to make her toes curl in her shoes and whose eyes were reminiscent of a molten pool of chocolate—she most certainly cared.
“Most of it.” The man smirked like he could see it in his head on replay. “Wasn't sure what you were chasing, but when you emerged with good ole Bugs—I connected the dots.”
“Right.” (Y/N) nodded, brushing her bangs from her face, sticky with even more sweat, leaving a smudge of dirt behind from her fingertips. “Well, now that we have that settled, I'm gonna go.” She readjusted the pan in her arms and turned to leave, hoping at least some of her dignity remained intact.
“Wait!” He called out, gently grasping the crook of her elbow and stopping her. “Let me help you.”
(Y/N’s) heart thundered in her ears. The man’s touch was like lightning on her skin, zipping down her spine and electrifying her core. “Help me?” She asked, eyeing his hand, wondering how a touch could be both soft and calloused.
“With Bugs.” Following her gaze, he quickly released her and pointed to the paint pan, stuttering in his movement. “Believe it or not, I used to have a pet rabbit.”
“Used to?” She snarked playfully, somehow finding it in herself to joke with this man instead of turning into a puddle at his feet. “Let me guess, Striker ate it?”
The man’s eyes crinkled, amusement breaking through his features despite his effort to look slighted. “Ha ha, very funny,” He mocked.
Gosh, he’s cute. And She was hopeless.
(Y/N) decided then her inner turmoil wouldn’t subside unless she were far away from this man—well, far as one could be as neighbors.
Of all the people she could’ve had right next door, it just had to be a very attractive man not wearing a wedding ring, who seemed sweet and was trying to be helpful. She didn’t know whether to consider herself lucky or cursed regarding the cards she’d been dealt—that verdict remained up for debate. She'd be fine if the man stayed on his side of the property line. Surely, his rugged charm couldn’t play mind games on her from afar. The last thing she needed to do was gawk over a man she had just met. She moved to Alabasta to escape her man-troubles, not add to them.
“Look, as nice as that sounds, I really don't need any help, so thanks, but no thanks.”
The man eyed her, completely unconvinced. “Are you sure you don’t need help?”
“Positive.” She reaffirmed, more confident than she felt.
“Do you even know what bunnies eat?”
There was an obvious answer. One on the tip of her tongue, threatening to slip out. The only thing holding it back was what little pride she had left—self-preservation working overtime not to let herself look like an idiot again.
She knew better, she really did.
Don’t say it.
Don’t say it.
“Carrots.”
Y/N) looked up at the man, wondering if he had heard her since he didn’t respond. Her reply was almost inaudible for a reason. She instantly regretted all her life decisions when she saw the smug, shit-eating grin spread across the man’s face.
“Oh, Sweetheart, you need me."
Him looking at her like she was stupid would’ve been better than the slight endearment in his eyes now.
“I don't need you—” (Y/N) began, offended.
“Bugs needs me.” He clutched his hands over his heart dramatically—his unbuttoned shirt opened even more with the expanse of muscles, a tiny sliver of black ink peeked out beneath one of the sleeves, the contrast on his tan skin utterly distracting. “Do it for your new little bunny friend.” .
“ So fine...—I MEAN THAT’S FINE.” (Y/N) wished she had never crawled out from under the porch in that moment. ”Great. You can help! With Bugs Bunny. The bunny. Sure!” The words tumbled from her mouth like word vomit. Mortified. Absolutely mortified. How could she be so…so… UGH .
The man was just being nice and neighborly. Nothing more than trying to help her out. He was a gentleman, obviously raised right—probably by a strong woman. A detail she couldn’t possibly know for sure, but it was an appealing attribute to add to the tally in her head nonetheless. It wasn’t his fault that she found him undeniably attractive—that his basic manners and attentiveness were enough to make her swoon like a lunatic.
“Great! I knew you'd come around!” He smiled, dimples on full display as he clapped his hands together. “Let me run over to my shop and grab a few things."
(Y/N) followed his gaze toward a decent-sized building in his backyard, partially obscured from view by her own house.
"You can go get cleaned up or do whatever you need to. It’ll take me a minute to find everything.”
“How do you know I don’t always run around like this? Maybe I don’t need to clean up, thank you very much.”
“Well, there’s nothing necessarily wrong with that.” He grinned. “I'm just saying the twigs in your hair may get a little uncomfortable after a while.”
“Oh,” She stammered, simultaneously feeling all the color drain out of her face.
“I mean, if it’s any consolation, I think you’re beautiful twigs and all.” He leaned forward, towering over her, stealing all the air from her lungs, and gingerly plucked one of the twigs from her hair—careful not to pull it. ”Not many people can rock the mud-streaked look ya know?”
The color violently rushed back into her cheeks. “Go get your stuff,” (Y/N) shook her head, dismissing him and her flusteredness. “Knock on the front door when you come back. I might let you in.”
“Will do, Sweetheart.” The man drawled, and then he was gone, trailing across the yard with an undeniable swagger in his step.
It wasn’t until he disappeared from view into his backyard that (Y/N) realized she had been staring. She averted her gaze to the little bunny hunkered down in her arms.
“Bugs, I’m so screwed.”
______________________